#fortunately no. he has been put back down on ground level | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

itsbeeble · 11 months ago

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LET LOOSE

SUMMARY: Younghoon has hated you since the day he met you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

GENRE: smut, fluff, angst, crack

PAIRING: Kim Younghoon x afab!reader (ft. eric)

WC: 5.3K

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: Swearing, public sex, floor sex, academic rivals that everyone knows secretly want to fuck, enemies to lovers, missionary (that's a first wow), sexual references, mentions of alcohol, insults (not sexual), arguments, pining, mentions of killing someone as a joke, dry humping for like two seconds, making out, mentions of marking, mentions of oral, guys i think this is the least slutty fic I've written for this series, y/n is stuck in a perpetual state of denial, let me know if I missed anything but i think that's it

A/N: Everyone allow me to introduce Doll's less-slutty cousin!! I can't believe we're over halfway through this collab omg. I'm really glad people are loving this and I hope you guys have been catching the easter eggs me and Fawn have been throwing into our fics 😏

If anyone asked you what you thought of when you thought of local star student, heartthrob, and frat boy Kim Younghoon, you would scoff and cross your arms over your chest.

“I hate him,” you would say, your lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed until they were practically touching. “I hope his house burns to the fucking ground.”

One would think this was a gross overreaction, that you probably held a grudge over something stupid, or that he killed your dog or maybe he copied off your essay but made it seem like you were the one who plagiarized. And oh, how that would’ve been much simpler.

The true story, however, goes all the way back—

“Thinking about me again?” A hand cracks down on the desk in front of you, your mind and body jerking back to reality.

There he is, you think to yourself, the bane of my fucking existence. Your teeth are already grinding together, your grip tightening around the pencil you’d been using to write your notes and all he’s doing is standing there with a stupid fucking smirk.

“Why would I be thinking of you?” You bite out and Younghoon places a hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“Ouch, sweetheart.” Your body stiffens and your face contorts with disgust at the nickname.

“Don’t call me that, douchebag.” Younghoon sighs dramatically, dropping down to be at eye level with you.

“So cruel to me,” a pout, and then he’s smirking again. “What if I was into that, sweetheart?”

You might throw up.

“What do you want?” you groan, noting how other students have begun to flood out of the lecture hall while you’re putting your things away. Younghoon shrugs, rising to his feet at the same time as you. Had you been a weaker woman, his height would’ve had your knees wobbling and your panties hitting the ground but, fortunately, you were a strong woman. Some of your friends couldn’t relate to that despite your very clear and very much valid hatred for him.

“I just wanted to see what you were up to,” he shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking back onto his heels. “Considering that we’re now partners for this assignment.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, your eyes widen, and your cheeks are fighting between going pale and burning bright as a tomato.

“What are you— what do you mean we’re partners?” You echo, and his smirk only widens. Your shoulder bashes into his arm while you make your way to the front of the lecture hall where the list of partners is posted. He trails behind you, long legs making it easy to keep pace despite how impossibly fast you seem to walk.

“Aren’t you so excited?” He sounds too excited about this, and you have to physically stop yourself from grabbing him by the neck and choking him where he stands. “We get to work together for the whole semester!”

“I still don’t see how this is a problem,” Dawon tells you her tongue running over her lip as she watches you pace the length of your dorm suite’s lounge area. “Isn’t he, like, super hot? And smart?”

Your lip curls into a sneer and you whip your body around to look at her.

“He is not hot,” your voice has raised in pitch, your arms waving frantically. “He’s— he’s stupid and— and annoying, and he doesn’t know how to shut up, and his face— oh his face is just so— so—”

“Kissable?” Suyeon offers when she makes her way over with a steaming mug of tea.

“I think rideable is a better word,” Dawon grins at the way your jaw drops at the two of them.

“He does have a very rideable—”

“Okay, enough!” You snap, your face beginning to burn bright red in anger.

“Ooh she’s blushing!” Suyeon giggles and your face only burns brighter.

“You both are insufferable,” you throw yourself back onto the couch, your head turned toward the ceiling. “Kim Younghoon is annoying, stuck up, and his face is not kissable or rideable.”

“So you’re saying you’ve thought about it before?” Suyeon presses and you roll your eyes.

“Hell no. Why would I think about that?”

“Because he’s your mortal enemy and everyone ends up fucking their mortal enemy at some point.”

“Plus he’s a yummy, scrumptious, daddy cupcake.”

“Ugh, so true Dawon.” Suyeon squeezes your roommate’s hand, the two of them grinning deviously at each other.

“That’s— did you just call him— No, that’s not the point. The point is, that’s not true!” You lift your head, eyes wide with horror. “That only happens in books!”

“Not just books,” Suyeon raises her mug to her lips with a hint of a smirk on her face. “Didn’t you hear about the KAT and TBZ presidents?”

“Oh my god, Eric told me about that!” Dawon gasps. “Apparently they—”

“I don’t need to know the details of their sex lives.” You interrupt again. “God, you two are just…”

“Don’t you just love us?” Dawon winks at you, and you wrinkle your nose in distaste.

“Let’s not go that far.” Her lips twist, and the three of you go quiet for a moment.

“Why do you even hate him?”

Ah, there it is. The same question everyone had been asking since the day you started at this school.

Why do you hate Kim Younghoon?

“It’s complicated,” you tell them what you always say. You tell them that it’s nothing they should be concerned about. He knows what he did.

“Then uncomplicate it.” Suyeon is much softer than Dawon, her eyes furrowed but not with the mild irritation Dawon has. It’s more…concern than anything else, and for a moment you think about telling them. Think about dropping your petty act, let them know exactly what about Younghoon bothers you so much.

You open your mouth, and the two girls in front of you lean forward expectantly, practically on the edge of the tiny couch that had been squeezed into the suite.

“I can’t.”

“That isn’t going to work, sweetheart.” Younghoon says, waltzing up to you after your failed attempt to talk your professor into letting you change partners or work alone. Your shoulders are slumped in defeat, something that Younghoon seems to laugh at. “You’re stuck with me.”

“I really hate you, Kim Younghoon.” You lift your head, wanting so desperately to glare at him but you can only find the strength to stare blankly. He kisses his teeth, eyebrows furrowing.

“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?”

“Who cares? It’s true.”

You want to scream. You want to throw your body onto the ground and throw a tantrum, to cry and whine, to kick and punch the air—anything to get out of this situation.

“All this because I got a better grade than you in one class in high school.” Younghoon shakes his head, his hair falling into his face and obscuring his eyes partially. Your heart thuds against your ribcage (because of the memory, obviously).

“You really think that’s the only reason I hate you?” Hint: he’s right for once. Would you ever tell him that? No. As far as he knows, you have endless reasons to hate him. As long as he lives, that list will grow. In fact, it would be better if he knew that you’d be pissed if he died before you because that means he tried to escape one last competition, but you’d hate it even more if he died after you because that means he would win one last time.

“That’s all I can think of,” he shrugs and you kiss your teeth.

“Disappointing me again, douchebag.” He scoffs at that.

“Of course I am. When am I not upsetting you about some bullshit?”

Oddly, this time you don’t answer him. At least you don’t give him an answer to that question.

“Listen, Kim Younghoon,” you place a hand on your hip, shifting your weight to lean mostly on one leg. He leans toward you a bit, slightly angling his head as if trying to hear you better. “You’re the most annoying, egotistical, snobbish boy I’ve ever met. You always have this, like, need to be better than me— than everyone.”

Younghoon inhales, his eyebrows knitting together and his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. You can see the irritation in his gaze, can see him fighting the urge to snap at you and it has your stomach churning. When he finally responds, it’s not exactly what you expected. You thought he would snap back at you, tell you to go fuck yourself, to call you the same insults you just called him.

He doesn’t.

“Meet me in the library at 4 o’clock.” Your head jerks back, your nose wrinkling with confusion.

“Excuse me?” Younghoon just smiles coyly, already turning away from you.

“Don’t you wanna get this project done so you don’t have to deal with me?” He can practically see the wheels turning in your brain, contemplating all your options.

“I mean yeah, but how do you know if I’m even free—”

“You’re always at the cafe at the same time as me,” Younghoon glances down at you, stepping to the side as he pushes open the door of the lecture hall. You say nothing as you push by him. “I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with me, sweetheart.”

“That’s not— I would never— how—” You sputter, stumbling over your words and waving your hands in the air while you try to come up with something to say. Something to deny. Younghoon begins to smile again, coy and near-mocking.

“I don’t hear you actively denying anything.” His eyes widen and he bends forward, lowering his face to be near yours. Your cheeks are heating up, your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Words. You need words. Why is nothing coming out?

“Shut the hell up, douchebag.” He laughs and your stomach churns again. Is he laughing at you?

“I’ll see you at 4, sweetheart.” Younghoon starts to reach his hand toward you as he leans up, but thinks better of it and drops it back to his side.

“Yeah, sure,” you scoff and turn your back to him.

Fucking prick.

“You have got to be kidding me,” You toss a stack of papers onto the table you’re sitting at, glaring at the notes Younghoon wrote on the whiteboard. He’d rented a study room for a few hours, giving you time to start working.

Or, at least, try to start working. You had made no promises about not trying to kill him and making it so neither of you could get any work done. Although, you had thought about running him over with your car so that you would have an excuse to work on this alone.

The blinds over the door had been shut, blocking anyone from looking in and potentially seeing you try to kill a man. Lucky for you.

“What’s so wrong with what I wrote?” He squints at the board and you push yourself out of the old, creaky chair you’d been sitting in.

“It’s contradictory!” You complain, reaching around him for the eraser. He grabs your hand before you can do anything, turning on you with a scathing glare.

“It’s not, though!”

His grip tightens on your wrist when you pull it away. You narrow your eyes, but he doesn’t waver at all. There’s heat behind his gaze, heat that makes you nervous. You know he won’t hurt you, that’s not who he is. The heat though…that makes you nervous. It’s the same heat you’d felt several times in the past few weeks.

“Let me go, Kim Younghoon.” He leans his head toward yours and your throat begins to close, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Not until you tell me why it’s contradictory!” He snaps. You swear your ears start to ring, your vision closing in until all you can see is Younghoon.

“It’s— why does it matter so much to you?” His grip finally loosens and you rip away from him with a huff.

“Because you’re putting down my work! Again!” He flings his hands into the air and you bite your tongue. “Why do you hate me so much?”

A lump in your throat, tears in your eyes, and Younghoon drops your hand. He looks defeated, his shoulders slumping and his lips set into a deep frown.

“I just,” Younghoon sits in his chair, the old wood creaking under his weight. You stand in the middle of the study room, hands by your sides and your eyes flicking around nervously. Your posture is so tense compared to his, your eyes flitting around anxiously. “I’m tired of this shit. Not knowing what the fuck I did wrong. You never give me a reason and, at first, I was fine with it. I liked the casual rivalry. But now I’m just…it’s been four years, and I still don’t know what I did.”

“Choi Yuna.” It comes out fast, the name of your ex-best friend. So fast that Younghoon doesn’t catch it, he just stares at you with a look of pure confusion.

“What?”

You say her name slower this time, tugging at the edge of your shirt. “Choi Yuna, you dated her from freshman year until late sophomore year.”

“Okay, yeah,” he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “What does she have to do with this?”

Your cheeks are burning, and you know he can see it. See how flustered you are.

“She was my best friend.” You bite on your tongue, trying to find the right words.

“I know,” he said, and you purse your lips. “She talked about you all the time.”

“That’s funny,” you scoff, a spark of anger returning to your tone and to your facial features. “Considering she’s the reason I hated you for so long.”

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” Younghoon huffs, rubbing at his eyes with his palms. You can tell he’s frustrated, so you speak quicker.

“She— she knew that I liked you.” His eyes snap up, wide and bulging. “She knew that I wanted to ask you out in freshman year, so she made sure to get there first. I— at first I thought that you knew that’s why she did it.”

“You thought that I knew your best friend wanted—” Younghoon huffs and rises to his feet.

“Just—” You hold up your hands as he begins to step toward you, slowly backing you into the wall. “Just let me talk. I thought you knew, yes. She told me that you asked her out first and that she just— she just agreed. So yeah, I started to hate you. I started arguing with you and every answer you gave in class because I was just so…angry at— at everything, at myself.”

Your back is against the wall now, and you’re slowly curling in on yourself as Younghoon gets closer.

“And…?” he cocks an eyebrow and your swallow thickly.

“By the time I realized that it was all her….at that point it was just easier to keep hating you. To keep everything at bay.”

“Everything?” He echoes and had you been looking at his face instead of his chest, you would’ve seen the smirk you’d always claimed to hate plastered onto his face.

“Yes,” you groan and lift your head. Your breathing hitches in your throat, your body pushing even closer to the wall when you finally see just how close Younghoon is to you.

Just a few inches from your face is his own, his eyes dancing from your eyes to your lips. His breathing is, compared to yours, slow and even. Inhale, hold, exhale. You can see his chest rising and falling with the rhythm.

“Why—” you clear your throat. “Why are you so close to me, Younghoon?”

“No legal name this time?” He murmurs, one of his hands coming up to rest on the wall beside your head. His head dips down and now his lips are brushing against yours, every breath you take mixing with his. “What happened?”

“I just— you’re a little close to me.” Your hand presses on his chest, but it's as if you aren’t even trying to push him away. “We— we probably shouldn’t.”

Younghoon kisses his teeth, shaking his head at your suggestion. Arguably, it’s a wise choice, but right now he has you exactly where he wants you. If he lets you leave now, who’s to say you won’t pack your bags and take a one-way flight to Brazil?

“I’ve been waiting,” he says and you squeeze the hand on his chest into a fist. “For three years for you to get your head out of your ass. I’m not letting you go now that I have you.”

“Have me?” Your tone shifts into one of challenge rather than the nervous air you’d surrounded yourself with. “If anything, I have you, Kim Younghoon.”

You yank him to you by his shirt, reaching up on your tip toes to place a firm kiss on his plush lips. You hear a groan rumbling in his throat, the hand not on the wall wrapping around your waist and squeezing tightly. Your lips mesh together, but it isn’t messy. It’s slow, calculated just like every move either of you had made against each other. Every argument, every challenge. The build-up. It all led to this, and you’re not letting him go this time. He’s yours and Choi Yuna can’t take him this time.

With a new fervor, both of your hands come to lace into his thick strands of black hair, effectively trapping his lips against yours. He drops the hand that was on the wall, both hands now on your waist and sipping under the loose fabric of your shirt. You gasp at the cold feeling of his hands on your skin, and he takes that opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth. It’s experimental, the way his tongue caresses yours, pushing gently and letting you suck at the warm muscle. He listens to the pretty little whimper you let out when he does the same thing in return and a shiver runs down his spine. His hand slides up the back of your shirt, emerging from the collar and lacing into the strands of your hair.

Air. You had to come up for air. You needed to breathe. Your lungs are aching, but fuck his lips are addicting. They’re soft, and warm, and they feel so good against yours.

Your knees cave slightly, your mind going fuzzy and Younghoon rips away from you to steady your body, his knee shoved between your legs to help keep you upright.

“Sweetheart,” his tone is lighthearted, but you know he’s scolding you. “You need to learn to breathe. I’m not leaving just because you need some air.”

A pretty little whine escapes you, but Younghoon is quick to realize that it’s not because you can’t find the words to respond to him. Well, if you think about it, that kind of was the reason.

Your hips are rolling down on his knee, your hands gripping his shoulder for dear life as you ride his thigh. Your head is rolled to the side, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to find the right pace and the right amount of pleasure to ease your arousal. Younghoon’s jaw drops, and he feels his dick twitch in his pants at the sight of you trying so desperately to relieve yourself on him. Unfortunately for you, he notes, your jeans seem to be in the way of you achieving your pleasure.

“Sweetheart,” he coos but his voice is shaky and he thanks god that you’re too far gone to notice. “Look at you, trying so hard to get yourself off.”

You whine, and his breathing hitches when you try to ride him even harder.

“Is it not enough?” He presses and your eyes fly open with the quick nod of your head. But then you shake it, and his heart clenches at the confused furrow of your brow.

“‘S not!” You whine. “Need more, Hoonie.”

He smiles when you reach one of your hands down, undoing the button of your jeans and trying desperately to shove them down as far as they can physically go without interrupting your ministrations. To your dismay, they barely get anywhere before Younghoon has to set you down and starts to tug them down your legs gently.

You never thought you would enjoy watching a man get down on his knees for you, never thought you could have this much of a reaction to it. Younghoon though…the sight of him looking up at you through his lashes, the nearly pathetic look in his eyes when he sees just how soaked your panties are— it’s enough to have you practically crumbling to the ground, your lips crashing against his again and forcing him back to lay on the ground.

His hands are everywhere— your hair, your hips, your ass, anywhere he can reach. He squeezes the soft flesh of your ass when your lips trail down his neck, sucking little marks into the skin and pulling groans and quiet whimpers from his throat.

Your hands run under his shirt, and he weakly tries to help you push it over his head to be tossed somewhere else. You shush him, a playful look in your eye as you place a finger on his lips.

“Gotta be quiet now,” you unbutton his jeans, slowly dragging them and his boxers down and he lifts his hips to help you slide them down to his knees. He doesn’t bother with your shirt but makes quick work of your bra and shoves it up. You’re sliding your panties down your legs when he shoves his hands under your shirt, squeezing and tugging at the soft mounds of flesh on your chest. A quiet moan at the feeling of him tugging at your nipples, and his hands falter momentarily when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he teases and you scoff while lining him up with your sopping wet pussy. You know he’s big, both of you do, but you’d never admit that to his face. Never admit that you’re nervous about taking it all in, nervous that you won’t be able to take him at all.

“As if your little dick could possibly hurt me—” your voice catches and he watches with strained amusement as you begin to sink down on him. Your walls are tight around him, practically squeezing the life out of his poor cock while you try so desperately to keep sliding down on him. Younghoon pulls his hands out of your shirt, sliding them down to your hips and gently rubbing them as a means to ease your discomfort.

“What were you saying about my little dick?” Younghoon sneers and you have to fight back the whine that threatens to slip out of you. He’s just over halfway in when you force yourself to give up, the stretch beginning to be too much for you to handle. “I could’ve prepped you, y’know? Made this easier for us both.”

You can only lower your head onto his shoulder, biting harshly into the skin while he flips you around and pushes your legs up toward your chest.

“Hold these here, sweetheart.” You do as he says, gasping sharply when he begins to sink into you.

“Fuck, Younghoon!”

“Shhh,” he kisses you gently while continuing to press into you, using the width of his shoulders to gently spread your legs a bit further apart. “‘M almost there, I promise.”

“‘S too much,” you whimper, a tear slipping out of your eye and dripping onto the carpeted floor below you. “‘S too much, Hoonie.”

“I know sweetheart,” he coos and looks down at where the two of you are connected. He fights the sudden urge to cum when he sees the fluttering of your walls, sees them clenching around him, and trying to force him out. “I’m almost there.”

Another whine from you and he quickly slides the last three inches into you, clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the scream you release. He stays still for a moment, listening to the sound of you sniffling, and turns his head briefly to look at the door. A shadow passes by and he exhales quietly.

“And you were worried about me being too loud. Who’s the one with a hand over her mouth, hm?” You can’t don’t respond and Younghoon pulls out entirely, leaving just the tip inside of you, and when you whine and let go of one of your legs to reach out for him, he sinks into you in one harsh thrust.

The moan you let out behind Younghoon’s hand is guttural, and your back arches off the floor. His thrusts are rapid, yet he doesn’t falter in pattern. He sinks deep inside of you, punching into you so deep that you swear he’s going to hit your cervix. He lets his hand drop from your mouth listening to the way you try to hold back your noises. Every whine, every whimper and moan and cry, you try so hard for him.

“Such a good girl,” he coos. “Keeping quiet and letting me fuck her real good.” His voice is so quiet, the words practically hissed into your ear and it’s so hot that your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Your grip on your legs loosens and then your hands drop them entirely, letting them fall onto his sturdy shoulders. He watches as both of your hands disappear under your shirt and he feels a pang of irritation as you begin to play with your nipples. They draw sharper noises out of you, higher in pitch and slightly louder. Although, Younghoon can’t complain when the combined pleasure has your cunt fluttering around him and fresh waves of arousal washing through you to make it easier for him to fuck in and out of you.

“Hoon,” your whine is loud. Too loud. “So close, please!”

Younghoon hushes you again, his hand running up the side of your leg and squeezing at the flesh of your thigh.

“I know, sweetheart,” he tells you. “You gotta be quiet f’ me. Gotta be quiet so nobody walks in, okay?”

“I can’t.” You sob out and Younghoon pushes himself closer to you, practically folding you in half so he can kiss you. You open up immediately, whining and letting him slide his tongue in for you to suck on.

Younghoon’s hips begin to stutter, his body shaking against yours, but you’re closer. Your body spasms, and you nip at his tongue to keep him close to you while you cum. Younghoon grunts at the combined feeling of your bites and the clenching of your walls around his length. It’s all a bit too much and it only takes a few more thrusts before he’s shuddering and collapsing against you, spilling ropes of white hot cum inside of you.

He can feel the combination of his and your cum beginning to squeeze out of you around the tight fit of his dick inside of you, but he doesn’t have the strength to pull out of you just yet. You’ve stopped biting at him, your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth slowly sucking at the warm muscle he continues to provide you.

Your body is sore, your thighs aching and likely bruised when you walk into your dorm a few hours later. You hadn’t gotten any work done after that, spending the rest of the time making out in a chair and grinding on each other like some damn horny teenagers. You know you’re a disaster, but you’re more than content with that knowing that Younghoon looks the same (if not worse).

When the door clicks shut, it’s dark in the suite and you silently thank god that Dawon and Suyeon are asle—

“Where the fuck have you been?”

The lights flick on to reveal your two friends at the counter in the suite’s living area. Dawon looks furious, but Suyeon looks like she just wants to go to be. You grimace, dropping your bag off your shoulder and onto the ground next to you.

“Out.” Your voice is hoarse and you grimace. You imagine your throat is a little bit bruised from…things.

“Doing what.” Dawon snaps.

“Or who, judging by the looks of you.” Suyeon clicks her tongue and rises from the couch. “Look at you! It looks like someone tried to eat you!”

Dawon squints at you, and you turn your gaze to the floor.

“You fucked him, didn’t you?” She inquires, but you both already know the answer.

“Who?” Suyeon frowns. “Who did she fuck?”

Your nose wrinkles, and you turn to her with a look that says I think you know. Suyeon tilts her head, her eyebrows knitting together in thought.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. OH— OH MY GOD—”

The Tau Beta Zeta frat house isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. At least not party-wise. The moment you and your friends walk in, you’re engulfed in noise, drunk partygoers, and scattered members of the frat. In one corner you can see what looks like two members of the frat making out with their girlfriends. Haknyeon and Changmin, Dawon said, Too bad they couldn’t find a private space. Damn exhibitionists. A smile quirks on your lips just slightly. Oh, if only she knew the truth.

You barely acknowledge her, however, scanning the room for Younghoon.

“Eric!” You grab the passing boy by the arm and he jerks to a stop, nearly spilling the contents of two cups.

“Yo!” He grins at you, and you can just faintly see the crinkle of his eyes under the red baseball cap of his. “What’s up?”

“Have you seen Younghoon?” Eric purses his lips in thought.

“You aren’t gonna kill him, right?” You laugh and so does he.

“No, not anymore. Or…I might if he doesn’t show up soon—”

“BOO!” Someone’s hands wrap around your waist lifting you off the ground and spinning you as you scream for him to put you down. Eric slips away, casting his eyes behind him to watch you and Younghoon as he approaches a girl in the corner.

“Kim Younghoon!” You snap, swatting him upside the head. Your boyfriend smirks at you, bending down to try and give you a kiss that you block. “Don’t kiss me, you douche! That wasn’t funny!”

“It was kinda funny,” he laughs, swooping in to give a kiss that you choose not to block this time. It’s deep and slow, and he tilts his head to get a better taste of you when you bring your hand to the back of his neck.

“Mmm, I think I like it when you don’t hate me.” He murmurs when he pulls back, grinning wickedly when you place a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Do you now?”

“Mhm.”

“Shouldn’t have scared me then.” You scowl, turning away from him and beginning to stalk away. He scrambles after you, frantically trying to keep up despite the crowd.

“Where are you going?” He whines, grasping at your fingertips. You turn your head, a coy smile playing on your lips.

“We gotta let loose, don’t we? We’re a little tense right now.”

A puddle of drool is practically forming in Younghoon’s mouth and he’s suddenly in front of you, moving with a renewed fervor.

When the door of the third bedroom on the right of the third floor shuts and clicks locked, nobody questions it. Not the thumping, nor the loud grunts and moans.

When someone needs to let loose, people know better than to interrupt. Especially when it’s Younghoon and his former-crush-turned-enemy-turned-girlfriend.

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amymaleneart · 6 months ago

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"The Mail Service Trilogy."

Here's part three of the trilogy of @missterious-figure Wine and Feathers AU! Was going to do some sort of feather-care, but than I thought of something better. (*tiny evil laughter*)

Enjoy!

You walk down the long private hallway of the casino, trying your best to carry the oversized package addressed to Eclipse without dropping it. Thankfully it’s not heavy, but it sure is a little cumbersome.

You would have already opened the package to remove its contents, as it was a part of your job to screen everything that comes in for the stars. Except the way your manager had pretty much busted into your office and tossed the package on your desk. Then demanded you to take it to the “prissy oversized drama-king” right away, didn’t give you much of an opportunity to make sure it was safe. Even though he did assure you that it is all safe and okay, he continues to yell and barates the most seeked after peacock about how he has been hounding him about this particular package. Then he starts yelling at you about how the mailroom wasn’t doing their job and should have taken it to you in the first place, even though you have nothing to do with it.

It seems ever since you got promoted to becoming their main handler, the manager seems to take any opportunity to express his frustrations and anger out on you whenever they do something he doesn’t approve of. Often when no one else is around.

You wipe away your incoming tears onto your shoulders as you try your best to shake off the underserved berating. But there isn’t anything you can do to change that you guess. As far as you know, there’s no one else higher than your boss besides the owner, and you know he doesn’t come here that often to be on any kind of name basis with you. You also know that HR is friends with your boss, so best to just leave–“Omph!”

While lost in your thoughts, you failed to realize someone was in front of you as you collided into them. Fortunately you didn’t drop the package, but instead started to fall backwards towards the ground. You already accepted your fate of getting a nasty headache from hitting your head onto the ground. Yet somehow you find you’re half suspended in the air as you feel then see a large bronze leather glove cradles the small of your back. You follow up the well muscular arm until you are face to black and hot pink face of the giant peacock harpy known as Eclipse.

He purrs as his amber eyes drinks you up like you are his favorite cocktail. “Careful now, my darling little gloaming star. You could have hurt your precious self and then someone would need to take care of you.” He leans in closer, “Although, I would be more than happy to take care of you anytime, my dear little handler.”

That’s when Eclipse notices how puffy and watery your eyes are, his demeanor changes from his overly flirtatious self to one of concern. Of course you don’t notice this because you are still reeling in from being flustered.

“I-I-I…” you swallow, “I-I have a p-package for yoooooou!?” You nearly screech out the last word as he tosses you over his shoulder, like you were fresh kill, causing you to drop the large box. “Eclipse!” You gasp as you try to hold onto his back without pulling at any of his orange feathers. “Wha-what are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer as he bends down to pick up the box with his free hand, then continues down the hallway towards your original destination, his private dressing room.

As you enter, you cry, “E-eclipse, please. P-put me d-down.”

“In a moment, my sweet little honeysuckle.” He tosses the package into his room as he turns around to shut and locks his door. You’re not sure you like where this is going. You know him to be the biggest flirt between the three of them, but you never thought he would outright kidnap you! Next he flungs you off his shoulder into his open arms, holding you up high so you are face-level with his oranges, reds and pinks feather-framed face. You found yourself squirming in his gentle embrace, having a hard time looking at his adorable face.

“Are you already?” he asks, his tenor-like voice entering into your soul like a pleasant evening breeze.

“I-I am f-fine,” you say, still refusing to look at him. The last thing you want is for him to worry about you.

He hums as he continues to observe you. You do recall that the name he had as a chick was “the watcher” and has developed these skills to the point you have no doubt he saw through your obvious lie.

“I-I was instructed by the manager to bring you this,” you say as you point at the package. “He…umm…said you really…(“Give that giant, overpriced feather duster his dumb package! I am getting really sick and tired of his cocky attitude, thinking he owns the damn place.)…need it as soon as it arrives.”

Another hum leaves his mouth as his lips turn into a half-frown, like he smells a dirty rat. He gently sets you down as if you were made of porcelain. “I’m sorry, sweet thing. If I had known he was going to give you such trouble, I would have practiced more patience if it would mean to save you from his wrath.”

You quickly look up at him, panic showing through your voice as you say, “No! No, it’s okay. He didn’t do anything—” A gloved finger was placed on your lips, instantly silently you. You stand there as you feel your face heat up in a bright blush that you’re surprised it doesn’t burn your skin.

Satisfy, Eclipse turns his attention to the partially battered package. He picks it up to remove the tape to take out its contents. He pulls out a large, rectangular piece of soft fabric that you quickly realized must be a king-sized blanket. Your eyes widen as you see the bronze color shimmer against the lights in the room. The large harpy takes two of the corners of the blanket into his hands to open up to reveal an amazing custom design of reds, hot pinks, blues, purples and bronze peacock feathers printed into the fabric. It was almost like someone tried to take his tail feathers to enchant it into this blanket.

“I had asked the manager to help me order this. Even used my own earnings though tips from the rich patrons to pay for this. But it seems I should have gone to someone more…tolerable, for help.”

Next thing you know, you are in complete darkness as Eclipse tosses the blanket on top of you. Before you could say any sort of sound, you feel large hands grab and spin you around until you are tightly wrapped up into a comfortable human burrito.

Oh My Stars! This is sooooo Soft!

Eclipse pulls down the blanket to reveal your star-struck face, causing him to laugh at how adorable you must look to him now.

“*hehehe* I knew you would look beautiful in my colors.” Eclipse proceeds to pick you up, bridal-style, and walks over to his Mayan hammock he has hanging on one side of the room. Carefully and elegantly, he turns and falls into the hanging breathable weave like he has done a million times before.

“E-eclipse? I-I really c-an’t–”

“Shhhhhhhhh. Don’t worry. You have enough time for a little break, my hardworking pheasant.”

He holds you close in his arms, ready to protect you from any danger that might come your way.

Part One: Done in an ask - Part Two: Over Here- Part Three: Here

#winged dca #harpy au #sun and moon fnaf #sundrop and moondrop #dca fandom #fnaf daycare attendant #harpy dca #harpy eclipse #winged au #wine and feathers au #dca fanfic #amymaleneart writing

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geekedoutbunny · 1 year ago

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Husband! Sun Wukong x Wife! Reader Ch 1.

CH. 2

You can be any celestial being/animal you want to be.

Paring: Sun Wukong x Reader

Rating: Rated M

Warning: In this story, you will read the following - Slice of Life, Mention of Death, attempted suicide, Past Cheating, Present Cheating, Triangle, Friendship, depression, anxiety, romance, angst, fluff, action, thriller, and drama.

MASTER LIST | NSFW CONTENT

Flower Fruit Mountain was always such a beautiful place to live, you've been here for as long as you can remember, you hummed a little tune as you whipped up some cake mix, the peach color cream was smooth and creamy and you nodded happily at the sight. You happily pulled over the greased-up cake pan and you dumped the cake mixture into it. A small monkey landed on your shoulder and you chuckled at its cuteness. "Give me time, little one." You said as you scraped out the rest of the mixture and put what you could gather into the pan. The little monkey bounced on your shoulder happily as you raised the spatula into the air allowing it to climb up your arm so it could grab the spatula. You watched as it licked off the residue on the spatula before it hopped away. You smiled sweetly at it as you walked to the center of the room with the bowl and you placed it down.

You walked away and almost immediately the bowl was swarmed with little monkeys. You happily hummed as you walked back to the pan-filled mixture, you opened the oven and placed it carefully inside on a rack before you closed it. You looked up at the clock and you nodded your head giving it an hour to cook and bake. You sighed as you walked over to the stone fruit tree. You always found the view beautiful, the sunlight pouring in, the waterfall in the background, the rainbow, and the beautiful peach tree. It was your favorite place to relax and it was fortunate that this was also your husband's favorite place to be as well. You looked up a little further above the tree and there you saw him, floating on his cloud eating a peach.

His arms were behind his head as he chewed the last bits of his peach he seemed lost in thought as he stared off into the distance, he's been more in his thoughts lately these days, he always has been but he's been more prone to it as of late. It reminds you of your younger days with him. You walked a bit closer to the tree before you gently kicked off the ground, floating up to his cloud, you looked down at him for a moment, just taking in his handsome features before you chuckled softly. "You're doing it again." You said. He swallowed his mouth full before he looked over at you a small smile on his face. "I'm not doing anything." He said teasingly. You smiled as you placed your hand gently on his arm. "Tàiyáng... You're spacing out again... Wanna talk about it?" You asked him cautiously.

He tensed up some, a worrisome look on his face as he grated his teeth in thought, he looked away from you for a moment before he looked back at you. Your patient stares and comforting rubs on his arm seemed to relax him some. He sighed before he sat up, your hands moved from his arm as they instead rested on the soft cloud. He stared down at his lap for a moment, his eyes bouncing as he weighed his options. When you were younger, this used to bother you. It made you feel like there was no trust between you, how he'd close himself off from you, never wanting to tell you what was on his mind... It was the root cause of many fights, almost break-ups, and terrible mistakes, but now that you're older, you've gotten to learn him on a deeper level. You've grown to love him for all his flaws, and you've learned to deal with the ups and downs of Sun Wukong.

He looked over at you, a desperate gleam in his eyes, you stared at him worriedly as you placed a hand on his shoulder. "Tàiyáng? What's wrong?... What's happened?" You asked slight panic in your voice as you spoke. He sighed as he reached for your hands, his thumbs gently rubbing the back of your hands as he looked down at them. "Táozi" He gently said. You looked at him in questioning worry, but you didn't try to rush him. It took him a moment before he looked back up at you once more his golden eyes bouncing between yours. "It's about Lady Bone Demon." He said. Your eyes harden into a serious stare. "Tell me, Tàiyáng." You said.

Sun Wukong lay on the mattress, the sun had long sat beyond the horizon, Flower Fruit Moutain was dark yet still just as beautiful. It was your idea to add a bedroom for you and Sun Wukong to sleep in. The clutter that would've been within Flower Fruit Mountain was very organized by you. Shelves upon shelves held all of the artifacts that he's collected over the centuries. It was like a real home, a kitchen, a living room, a bedroom, and even a bathroom. He would honestly be a wreck without you. He sighed as he rubbed his hand gently up and down your arm that was dropped over his chest, his other arm acting as your pillow as it also held you close to him. He was grateful for you, more than he'd ever admit to it, but he knew you knew. He could see it in the way you stare at him, the way you cook, clean, and laugh, he could see it.

He pulled his hand away from your arm he racked his hand down his face as he gave another more tired sigh. "I gotta warn MK." He muttered as he plucked some fur from his head and he tossed it making a clone of himself. His clone looked down at him with a questioning gaze before he looked at you and back at him. Sun Wukong sighed as he stared up at his clone. "Don't patronize me, okay... I'm just trying to do the right thing for once." He said, years of regret pooling in his thoughts. His clone continued to stare at him in question before he also sighed. Sun Wukong rolled his eyes at the clone. "Don't give me that sass, you know how important MK is to me... to us." He said as he looked down at you. The clone looked at you as well, his stare softening as he looked at your sleeping face.

Sun Wukong looked back at his clone. "If not for me, then at least do it for her." He said. The clone's eyes bounced as he weighed his options and he sighed, a determined stare replacing the uncertainty before he nodded and zoomed off on the cloud. Sun Wukong stared at the high ceiling of their home before he closed his eyes, with a crease in his brow he dozed off. When he awoke he was flooded with the memories of the clone and he smiled as he released a sigh of relief. He looked over at you, only to see that you weren't in bed. He looked around the room for any sign of you, but the smell of breakfast cooking ceased his worries. He lay back for a while before he sighed and he got on up ready to start his day.

He walked into the kitchen, a tired yawn leaving him as he walked into the aroma of your cooking. He wore nothing but a yellow robe, some dark blue pants, and a red shirt, his slippers a pretty blue. "Morning Táozi." He said sleep laced in his voice. "Good morning, Tàiyáng." You said a happy tune in your voice. The cake you made yesterday evening never got touched, as it was forgotten by the stresses or Sun Wukong's worries. "Good morning, Monkey King." Came MK's muffled voice. Sun's relaxed expression turned to that of shock as he looked over towards the table. There he saw MK stuffing his face with the cake from last night and some lemon tea. "Mmm, Mrs. Monkey King's wife, your cooking is always the best." He said. His eyes shone cutely.

You smiled at him kindly as you walked over with the picture of tea, you poured him more before you patted his head. "Why thank you, MK, but you can just call me Mrs. Wukong." You said with a chuckle. He looked up at you for a moment before he rubbed his chin in thought. "Hmmmmm, okay, plus I guess it is shorter than saying Mrs. Monkey King's Wife." He said before he went back to eating. A gust of wind shot through the room and you rolled your eyes when you looked up and saw Sun Wukong wearing a sheepish smile now dressed in his usual 'Monkey King Outfit'. "HEY-HEY!! MK!!! I uh... Didn't know that you'd be here... Ahem, SO!! What brings ya here bud!?" He asked taking MK's oblivious nature as his chance to seem as 'normal' as possible. MK looked up from his plate his cheeks puffed from the big bite of cake he just took.

He stared at Sun Wukong blankly for a moment before his eyes widened and he began to wave his arms around frantically as he tried to explain why he was here. Sun stared at him with an arched brow while you sighed as you shook your head. You picked up his cup and put it to his lips luckily he got the memo and he grabbed the cup and began gulping down the tea. He gasped loudly as he slammed the cup down and he stood up his hands flat on the table as he shouted. "YOU CAME TO ME LAST NIGHT AND YOU TOLD ME ABOUT THE LA-!!" He was cut off by Sun Wukong suddenly slapping his hand over his mouth he stared at MK with a stressed and annoyed stare, but before he could do anything else you cleared your throat making him look up at you along with MK.

You leaned on one leg while you placed your hand on your stuck-out hip, an unimpressed look on your face as you stared at him. He smiled at you sheepishly. "Umm... I- Uh... Came to tell me last night... That uh... I forgot my... MY LANTURN!!!" He shouted as his eyes brightened and he sent you an 'innocent' smile. MK's brow arched in confusion but he couldn't speak as his mouth was still covered. You stared at him, not buying what he was saying. He broke out into a cold sweat as his smile became more forced. "Is that so?" You slowly asked. He nodded his head. "Yup!! Now if you'll excuse us, dear... I have to up MK's training, time to teach him the thing." He said as he scooped MK up. MK was struggling to reach down for his leftover cake and tea but at the mention of learning a new technique his eyes shined and he shot his arms up in victory as he cheered with a muffled shout. "SEE!! MK's Ready to learn!! Isn't that right MK?" He asked the boy.

MK excitedly nodded his head his eyes shined in excitement while Sun's shined in hope. They both stared at you, ready to be dismissed. You stared at Sun Wukong for a hot moment before you rolled your eyes and you waved him off. He didn't linger around for long as he shot off with MK to their 'training grounds.' You honestly weren't upset that Sun Wukong lied to you, he was a terrible liar so it didn't bother you, but you knew he had done something behind your back and it involved MK. You were a patient woman, you knew how to wait, because Sun always told you what he was doing, even if it did take me a whole week at times he always filled you in. Until that time comes, you'll continue to do your usual tasks and will continue on with life like nothing was amidst.

Sun Wukong ran out to the cliff where he and MK usually trained, he looked around checking for you to see if you were lingering, and when he didn't he sighed in relief as he placed MK down firmly on his feet. MK stared up at him with bright eyes full of excitement, he slightly bounced on the ball of his feet. Sun Wukong stared down at him with a guilty stare. "What are we gonna learn today Monkey King!?" He excitedly asked. Sun Wukong looked off from him as he rubbed the back of his neck. MK excitedly ranted as he bounced around on the cliff side, running around in circles as he did cartwheels and other types of acrobatic moves. "Kid." Sun said, his voice heavy with guilt. MK ignored him too deep into his excitement. "Kid, listen... I uh." He said, trying to break the news to MK but he was so excited and Sun was determined to get him to calm down, he quickly grabbed MK with his tail, making him stop moving so that he could focus on him.

"I won't be teaching you anything new today, kid... I'm sorry." He said as he looked down at MK. MK's excited smile broke and his smile dropped. "H-huh?" He asked. Sun sighed as he placed MK down on the ground, his tail loosening around him. MK scratched his head in confusion. "Bu-but, you told Mrs. Wukong that we were going to train." He said trying to understand. Another wince left Sun at the mention of him lying to you, he stared down at MK with guilt. "Listen, kid... I want to talk about what my Clone told you last night... about the Lady Bone Demon." He said. Trying to get straight to the topic at hand so that his guilt would stop eating at him. MK's sad face turned into a serious stare. "Yeah, what was up about that? I thought we defeated the Lady Bone Demon for good." He said Sun frowned as he crossed his arms. "I know, but her seal has been acting up lately, I've been getting sparks of it all week, it's not getting stronger but it is cause for concern." He explained.

MK stared at him in worry. "Then, we gotta warn everyone else!! We gotta tell them!!" He said as he summoned the staff he was quick to try and stab it into the ground so that he could shoot off but Sun snatched up the pole just in time making MK dangle from the pole by his hands. "Wait, we can't just go around and tell everyone what's happening." He said. MK shook his head in shock as he stared at Sun Wukong. "WHAT!? WHY NOT!?" He shouted in confusion. Sun Wukong sighed as he stared at MK with a serious stare. "Listen to me, MK, you have a good heart, and never change that. But I'm going to need you to work with me on this one, okay?" He said. MK stared at him with a worried stare of uncertainty. "MK, do you trust me?" He asked, urgency in his voice. MK's eyes bounced between Sun's and he nodded after a moment. Sun Wukong smiled some at MK's answer. He lowered the pole, allowing MK to stand on the ground again.

"Good, now I know it's hard for you to keep stuff like this from your friends, but we don't need them trying to find a way to stop Lady Bone Demon while she's still sealed." He said. MK arched a brow. "Why not? Wouldn't it be more quicker and safer?" He asked. Sun Wukong shook his head. "Unfortunately no, but you'd think that wouldn't you?" He said, agreeing with MK's logic. MK shrugged before he nodded. "Yeah." He said. Sun Wukong stared at him for a moment before he sighed. "Well, as much as I want to do it your way, we can't." He said. "Why not?" MK asked. Sun stared at the ground for a bit before he looked at MK. "Because if they try to attack while she's still sealed, they'll do nothing but weaken the seal, making her stronger and us more unprepared." He explained. MK stared up at him in worry. "Then... what do we do, Monkey King?" He asked.

Sun Wukong looked past him and out towards the rising sun, he stepped past him walking to the cliff's edge as he stared out into the orange glow. "We wait, we train and then we attack to protect." He said. MK stared at him for a moment. Sun turned towards him, his golden eyes shining in determination as he looked back at MK. "Once we've gotten a good read, then we'll tell everyone, I promise." He said. This caused MK to smile at him as his own eyes shined in determination too. "RIGHT!!" He shouted.

You stood in the room that was full of artifacts, your eyes trained on a wooden vase with a flower carved into the base of it. above it had two letters carved into the wood. M x (Your Initial). You sighed as you stared at the letters, memories from a faraway time flooded your thoughts. You walked away from the vase going back to what you were doing before you saw the old vase. M that was carved into the wood glowed a purple aura before it went back to normal.

MASTER LIST | NSFW CONTENT

#lmk x y/n #lmk fanfiction #lmk x reader #lmk #lmk sun wukong #lmk sun wukong x reader #lmk sun wukong x y/n #sun wukong x reader #sun wukong lmk #sun wukong lego monkie kid #sun wukong x y/n #monkey king #lego monkie kid

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animeloverskylarmoon · 9 months ago

Text

Mayuri Kurotsuchi (Bleach) -Oneshot

You weren't certain how you got so unlucky. Ichigo always told you that this captain was a psycho. You should have taken it more seriously. Because when you discovered your abilities, the Head captain assured you that they would be able to help to avoid another breakdown like you had in the world of the living.

Splitting a building in half.

You were scared. Terrified that you would hurt someone. You'd gotten lucky that the structure was abandoned, but the next time you wouldn't be as fortunate. So here you were, in the soul society, hiding.

"I just need to make it to Rukia, then she can open that freaking portal and get me out of here."

You had one meeting with Mayuri Kurotsuchi and that was enough. He went on a tangent about all the experiments he wanted to conduct and it became clear that he had no interest in helping you hone your skills.

"There she is Nemu."

You flinched from your spot behind the wall. You weren't even offered a chance to run.

"W-Wait!!"

"Knock her out."

With a swift tap to the back of your head, your vision faded.

"Such bothersome creatures, humans."

You were laying on the table and Mayuri moved closer, holding the needle.

"Master, if you'd explained to her that we were actually trying to help she might have been more willing."

Mayuri just grinned.

"Everything I do has a purpose. Powers such as hers are typically more prominent when she's in fear. I was merely checking to see if I could urge a fraction of that energy. I was right. You saw it didn't you?"

Nemu nods.

"Yes master, her reiatsu is quite raw. Humans in the world of the living are quite unique."

"Indeed they are. I will enjoy this."

He pressed the needle into your skin, watching the liquid slide beneath your skin as he stepped away.

"Now we wait until she wakes up. You're dismissed."

"Yes master." Nemu bowed, walking away.

Mayuri's gaze moved back to your form. You shifted against the table, and his eyes narrowed.

"Is she waking already?"

You should have been asleep for at least another hour, especially with what he'd just administered into your bloodstream. He placed the needle down, moving closer. Your eyes opened lazily, and Mayuri just folded his arms.

"How unusual, you're already awake."

It took a moment for you to gather your bearings, but when you did, your eyes shot open. You jolted upright.

"What the hell did you-"

Your statement dropped at the end, and your body disappeared. Mayuri grinned, and you staggered when you reappeared a distance away, eyes shaking in shock. You straightened, and Mayuri just watched you proudly. Your eyes drifted to your hands.

"W-What just happened..."

"I believe I fixed your problem."

You just stared at him. Because although he'd literally kidnapped you and possibly slipped some crazy evil genius serum in your veins, you couldn't deny that something felt different. It all felt lighter, like you'd dropped some heavy weight.

"Would you like to learn more?"

His grin was wide, because you knew he could see your eagerness to understand what happened. He would no doubt put you through some crazy trails, but your curiosity was brimming. You needed to know.

"I do."

Exactly what he wanted to hear.

~Four Months Later~

"WHAT THE HELL MAYURI!!"

You were being chased by a hollow and Mayuri just watched.

"I told you that your reiatsu was growing. You should never let your guard down."

"NO SHIT!!"

You spun around, clenching your fist. When it jumped at you, your legs grounded and you fired a punch. The base of your hand connected with its mask and the shockwave of energy caved the hollow's mask in, sending a rush of wind that batted against the trees present. The hollow disintegrated almost instantly as the wind began to level out.

You huffed.

"Impressive, your spiritual pressure has grown quite a lot. Your abilities are still very sloppy, but there is always room for improvement."

A vein popped on your head at the statement.

"I'LL SHOW YOU SLOPPY!!"

This was nothing new.

Mayuri made you his little lap dog. Always testing out his crazy theories on you. The first time you mastered flash step, he'd failed to tell you that you were close to the Kuchiki clan's residence. So when you landed in Byakuya's koi pond and killed some of his precious fish, it's safe to say that you'd spent that night in the fourth squad barracks getting healed by Hanataro.

He was a menace to society. An effortless genius, but a bastard. After your outburst, you'd left and headed to hang out with Nemu and her little association. She was having tea with some of the other female reapers.

"Then he says that I'm sloppy, do you believe that!!"

Okay, so maybe you just came to vent.

Rangiku laughs.

"That does sound like him."

You sighed heavily.

"I just wish he'd help me without it always turning into me ending up with a dozen bruises. Is that too much to ask?"

" I understand you might be skeptical, but Master must have faith in your abilities."

You snort.

"Like if, he just enjoys having me around to mess with." You grumbled.

Nemu wore a smile.

"Master has never taken interest in anyone who wasn't on some level important. Especially humans. In his eyes, there is worth. It may not seem like it, and he will never say it, but to him, you matter."

The statement was not what you were expecting.

You didn't want to talk about it further, so you grabbed a cup of tea and downed it like alcohol as Yachiru cheered in the background.

As you were making your way back after hours of venting, her words still wouldn't leave you.

That's why when you headed to his barracks, it was just a distraction. Your trips to the soul society were usually you hanging out with Mayuri and ending up in some kind of crazy situation.

Although that was the truth, you could have walked away at any time. You didn't have to keep coming back.

"So why do I.."

You couldn't answer the question.

"He will never say it, but to him, you matter."

You blushed as the words played back.

"I-IT'S NOT LIKE I LIKE HIM OR ANYTHING!!"

"Quit your yelling."

The nonchalant voice was expected. You hadn't even realized that you walked into his personal lab.

The blue haired male standing before you was not who you expected to see.

"W-WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!!!"

"Would you seize the yelling."

His voice sounds agitated and you just pointed dumbly, because you knew that voice.

"M-M-Mayuri!!"

He ran a hand through his hair, disinterested.

"Who else would it be? Do you think I would let some stranger into my personal space to exploit my discoveries? I'd quicker dissect them."

A creepy smile grew on his face and you sweatdropped.

"Yep, that's definitely him."

It took you a moment to realize his hair was dripping, as if he just came out of the shower. He was moving around the room casually, yet you still kept your distance.

This was weird.

Your silence must have finally drawn his attention, because he turned to you, and your face heated up.

"Why are you suddenly so quiet?"

"N-No reason!!"

You waved frantically.

He didn't seem to buy that. With one step, he was standing right in front of you.

Mayuri leaned slightly to match your height, wearing that know it all grin.

"Did you fall in love with this face?"

"T-THAT'S RIDICULOUS!!"

His stupid smirk didn't leave, and all you wanted to do at that moment was punch him if nothing but to stop your embarrassment. His hand slid behind your neck, and you meant to question it, but his lips were suddenly pressed to your own, and all you could do was gape like a fish. His sapphire tresses tickled your forehead, and you couldn't help but take in the scent of his wash. It was almost intoxicating.

His tongue drifted over your lips teasingly and you couldn't stop the sound that escaped. Mayuri pulled back, tauntingly. Enjoying the dazed look in your eyes.

"You're transparent, (Y/N)."

You swallowed. Because during the entirety of your partnership, he'd never called you by your name. Nor has he ever looked at you like that.

"Nemu was right.."

It seems you've gained the attention of this crazy genius. You weren't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

#mayuri kurotsuchi #bleach #humor #abilities #care #fluff #feelings #nemu kurotsuchi #mayuri x reader #experiements #trust #cute #gotei13

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yakuzacanons · 11 months ago

Note

Hi,

is it possible to have more Daigo headcanons please? Maybe his wedding day/ dating ones

Thanks

Hello howdy, I already did a dating headcanons post including some NSFW stuff here BUT I can do some wedding day ones for sure! Have a good one sweet anon.

Being the Tojo Clain Chairman, it was kind of expected by literally everyone that he would have a pretty big and elaborate wedding. It's a big deal for a lot more people than just him and you.

The wedding planning process alone is quite complex. Depending on where you're from culturally or religiously, it's likely the two of you will need to have two weddings to support both aspects of your life as much as possible. Fortunately, Daigo is open to that. He also thankfully can afford it.

Daigo's always been a pretty sharp dresser, even if only by habit from work, so you don't have to worry about him. He likely already knows a tailor anyways. He fully trusts you to pick out whatever you want. In fact, he secretly hopes to never even catch a glimpse of it before the wedding day because he wants it to be a surprise for him to see when you walk down the aisle.

Despite his lack of dating experience, he takes to the whole wedding planning thing pretty well! Maybe it's just some managerial instincts kicking in, but you can rely on him to put in equal effort as you.

Having said that, it's important to note that he does have specific strengths and that's where his effort will be. He's good with logistics so things like the guest list and seating arrangements are best left to him. Besides, he'd be the one who'd know best as to who needs inviting and who needs to sit by who.

Chances are he knows a good caterer but he will consult with you on the menu. The cake is a whole different issue though, he's not exactly sure what he wants. He's most fond of coffee cakes, especially tiramisu, but he won't push for that. He'll let you lead at cake testings, just pick out a selection of ones you like and have him take a bite of each. He'll either nod and give a thumbs up or just shake his head rapidly and move on.

The planning on top of work does take a toll so he will be sleeping a LOT heavier than normal or just seem more tired in general. He is, however, insanely content to be doing all this with you so he's smiling through it all.

Day of the wedding is a different story. The man is hands sweaty moms spaghetti out here. The whole clan is kind of chaos, not in a bad or disoragnized way but it is noticably hectic. Despite the venue's vast size, every corner is alive with activity, all the way from the back where food and chairs are being ferried inside to the front where Tojo men are manning the gates.

Of course, Daigo has his most trusted guard as his groomsmen. Saejima, thankfully, is level headed as always and keeping Daigo grounded. Majima's kind of nervous just by proxy; it's a big deal! Kiryu is, naturally, the best man, which moves him to tears but he's trying to keep it together.

The guests start arriving and are signed in and seated. It's quite an impressive procession out front with all the cars forming a line outside the front gate. There's a palpable shift in the air from "this thing is going to happen" to "this thing is about to happen". Daigo's gone fully silent at this point, practically contemplative.

Despite all his nervousness, the event goes off without a hitch. It's a dazzling affair, not in an over the top or decadent sense but more of in an elegant way that feels right for someone like Daigo. Even Majima is seems moved, almost seriously so.

#majima megaphone moment #yakuza #yakuza headcanons #yakuza imagines #ryu ga gotoku #ryu ga gotoku headcanons #ryu ga gotoku imagines #goro majima #majima goro #daigo dojima #saejima taiga #kiryu kazuma #kazuma kiryu #dojima daigo

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lavender-bundle-blithe · 3 months ago

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I Died and Reincarnated as a Tiger Prince?! | Demo

Byakko sheathes her katana and finally lets out a breath.

“My, such bloodshed.” She glances over her shoulder as the royal doctor walks into the building. “Bandits, I presume?”

“Mostly. But others… They seem like sorcerers and mages.”

“Magic users? In this environment?”

The building they were asked to investigate looked abandoned on the outside with cracks and ivy along with boarded up windows. But inside, it looked like some sort of infirmary.

“If anything, I was thinking of something with more materials for sorcery.” The doctor murmurs, walking over to a table with several vials of organic material and potions.

“Yosano-sama, I will continue searching the building for any leftovers.” Byakko announced, already seeing herself off.

Yosano watches her and sighs fondly, shaking her head. “It feels like a lifetime ago, and yet you still act the same.” She turns her attention back to the books and studies and drafts strewn about the table.

She wasn’t familiar with sorcery and anything magic-based, even though she herself has the highest level of healing magic, one that could save someone from the brink of death. But they already have a mage in the royal administration, one that she was familiar with. And yet she doesn’t recognize any of these drafts. She picks up one of the papers, frowning.

“What was even done here-” Yosano’s voice stuttered when her eyes continued scanning further the pages. Resurrection? Supplements? Dosages, very low chance… Her hands trembled slightly as she looked back at the various vials on the shelves.

Just what has been dealt here?

“Yosano-sama.”

She turns around at the sound of Byakko’s voice. “Byakko, we might have to return here another day. Something-”

Yosano cuts herself off at the sight of what was curled up in the other’s arms. A child, a little boy with abnormal platinum blonde hair like the moon and motionless white tiger ears and tail, his wrists and ankles bruised. Half-human children tend to have these features of theirs move when asleep. Yosano looks down at the papers in hand.

“Yosano-sama,” She turns her attention back to the royal captain, seeing the hint of anger in her slight glare. “He was found in the middle of a sorcerer’s circle, chained down.”

“What?!”

“Shh.”

Yosano stops herself from the sudden outburst, seeing the child’s tiger ears tremble slightly from the loud echo. She glances at the papers in hand. “Something’s not right…” she whispers under her breath.

“It’s best we return to the castle and report that we took care of the problem, but that it leads to something more.” Byakko said, already making her way to the door and Yosano quickly puts the papers down and follows behind. “No wonder your brother said for you to come with me. He likely foresaw this, that fortune teller.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” sighs Yosano, thinking back to the conversation earlier today of Ranpo practically pushing Yosano over to Byakko just before she left the castle grounds. She sighs heavily and looks at the building they just left.

Yosano observes the other for a long moment, noticing the woman’s normally dilated sharp pupils being bigger and rounder as she gazes down at the boy in her arms. I never took her to be quite the mother. Yosano smiles at the thought. But it suits her.

“Seems like you have adopted a cub or your own, hm?” Yosano inquires.

Byakko simply glances at her from over her shoulder before turning back when the child suddenly shifts in her arms.

— — —

All Atsushi could remember was abrupt, shocking pain. Then the sense of floating. For a moment, he thought that he had died, which was the likely ending. The pain was unbearable compared to what the orphanage usually inflicted on him. This one was done by someone not of staff, but… a terrifying man of pure white hair and voidless red eyes. Truly, he did think he died, no doubt about it.

But that didn’t explain him suddenly… waking up again.

He was being carried, his head propped on a shoulder, eyes blarily staring up at an unfamiliar abandoned building with overgrown ivy. He suddenly felt a hand rest carefully on his head and someone came into view.

“Oh, you’re awake. How are you feeling?” the woman asks, magenta eyes looking at him.

Atsushi stares for a second before grumbling in pain, squeezing his eyes. “Everything hurts…”

“Where, by chance?”

“Head… my back… my hands and legs, too.” He opens his eyes again to see the other frowning slightly.

“What do you remember last?” she asks.

“I…” He swallows roughly and just shakes his head, burying his face into the shoulder. “I don’t remember…” Suddenly, something foreign on the side of his head shifts, and his eyes shoot wide open in panic but then a hand rests against his back.

“Shhh…” a deep ethereal voice hushes gently, and it calms Atsushi almost instantly even though his grip was still vice. “Things might feel different, but right now you are still hurt,” the voice continues gently. “It’s best we leave before it gets dark. By then, you will be treated by the royal family.”

Atsushi blinks owlishly. “R-Royal… family?”

The doctor hums silently, looking at him. “Seems like your memory has been affected a lot… What do you remember by chance?” she asks as they came to a wagon and the one holding him carefully set him down and pulled their cerulean blue shoulder cape to wrap around him.

Atsushi frowns and ducks his head only to go rigid at the sight of black stripes on his arms and legs along with his nails sharp like a cat’s. Before he could panic further, hands gently held him and he looked up to meet sharp yellow eyes, just like a tiger’s. “Do you remember your name? Age?” she asks.

Atsushi stares at her for a moment before quietly nodding his head. “N-Nakajima Atsushi… And I think I’m 14…?”

“14?” The doctor echoes, eyebrows furrowed.

“I think so,” he nods.

The two women glanced at each other before the doctor stepped next to the other. “I’m Yosano Akiko. And this is Kemono Byakko,” she introduces themselves to him. Atsushi blinks before nodding his head back.

“Now,” Yosano stands up and walks inside the building.

“Yosano-sam—” Byakko began.

“Just going to do something.”

They watched as the doctor disappeared inside, and after a bit of crashing sounds that made Atsushi wince at the sudden volume in his ears, Yosano walks out with something in her hands.

“Yosano-sama…” Byakko warns slightly.

“Oh, don't worry. Yosano waves a hand. “Just made sure we grabbed everything.” Atsushi stares before squinting in slight confusion.

“But you don’t have anything but those papers,” he points out.

“Quite! But that’s for later.” Turning to Byakko, “I’ll explain once we get back to the castle.” Byakko frowns before sighing quietly and looks back at Atsushi, gently petting his head before her eyes lowered. He stares back in confusion before gasping when she suddenly rests her hands gingerly on his bruised wrists, and a gentle blue-iridescent light covers the bruises. Atsushi watches in awe as the aching faded and the bruises completely vanished as she pulled away to do the ones at her ankles.

“Let’s get you home,” Byakko whispers, gazing at Atsushi earnestly before moving to the front to begin moving the wagon. Yosano pulls herself up on the wagon with Atsushi just as it begins moving and she looks off into the distance at the building.

“What else do you remember, by chance?” she asks.

Atsushi stares before looking down slightly, ignoring the stripes and claws for now. And besides his name and an idea of his age…

“Pain.” he answered.

“Pain?”

“But I should be used to pain…”

Yosano looks at the other before resting a hand on his head. “Feel anything different, then?” she asks.

Atsushi nods and looks around. “Everything is louder and brighter, and something’s moving on my back…”

Yosano hums carefully. “Do you know anything about half-humans?” Atsushi looks at her in confusion. Smiling, “Half-humans are humans, yes, but they are a bit different in appearance.”

“Like what?”

“Additional or replaced features compared to a human,” she explains. “There can be many kinds of half-humans, so a subspecies.”

“So… a different race?” Atsushi asks, feeling himself get tired.

“That’s right. But the most common of half-humans are humans with animal-like features. Be it cats, wolves, squirrels even.”

Atsushi yawns and slumps down, curling into a ball. “Am… I one of them?”

Yosano gazes down at him. “Yes. A white tiger. Surprisingly, we’ve only heard of such beings in stories as a lineage of legendary and brave warriors.”

Atsushi blinks slowly, the information having not been able to process fully. “Do… Do they get treated nicely?” he asks, eyes slipping closed.

Yosano simply smiles and rests her eyes as well. “They are treated as equal as anyone would want to be treated.”

The sun had just begun to lower to the horizon below the mountain their kingdom was set on as they came to the castle grounds. Wasting no time, Byakko unleads the horse from the wagon and lets the stablehands take care of them, and pulls the wagon to where the others were.

“Phew,” Yosano sighs as she steps off. “A single day of travel, the most I’ve been out for a long time.” she murmurs. Byakko nods as she rounded the wagon and carefully scoops Atsushi up, now bundled up in her cape and sleeping soundly. Her gaze softened slightly to see the child’s ears flick in his sleep.

“Now how do we explain to the royal family that you suddenly picked up a child of your own?” Yosano hums as they make their way to the doors.

“His Highness would understand,” responds Byakko and Yosano hums, smiling quietly.

“That he would,” she agrees.

Byakko felt a shift in her arms and looked down as ametrine sunset eyes fluttered open, taking in everything slowly. “Feeling better?” she asks quietly.

Atsushi hummed quietly, letting his eyes rest closed for a while longer as he rested against her. “It’s numb, but it’s uncomfortable. Feels weird…”

“It would be,” hums Byakko. She glances at Yosano who nods. “Hungry, by chance?”

It takes Atsushi a moment to realize he was starving. Thankfully, his stomach growling was enough of an answer for them.

“The chefs are likely preparing dinner as we speak…” Yosano murmurs. “Byakko, take Atsushi to the infirmary, the private room. It’d be best if we don't have the others bother him until further notice. I’ll go and retrieve some food that one who hasn’t eaten as of late can stomach.”

Byakko nods and makes her way down the hallway, parting ways with her. Atsushi watches Yosano vanish behind the corner before looking around once more.

“Where are we?” he asks quietly.

“The royal castle,” responds the woman.

A beat.

“Do you and Yosano-sama work here…?”

“Yes, but Yosano is a part of the family. But she's more devoted to his medical work than the usual duties compared to her brothers,” she explains. “I’m the royal captain guard. But I wish to be your mother, as well.”

Atsushi stares at her for a moment. “My… mother?” he echoes.

“Yes,” she nods her head. “Would you mind?”

Atsushi was quiet, thinking about it.

Back at the orphanage, there was never a set parental figure amongst the children. The most he’s seen was the oldest residence protecting the younger ones, which usually led to them being kicked out right then and there. Of course, none of them protected him. He was more trouble than what was worth.

But in books, he had an idea of what a happy family would be, and what the relationship between parent and child should be. It was nothing compared to the orphanage.

Atsushi looks up at Byakko. She seems nice… And she helped me, too. “Will that be okay…?” he asks, still hesitating.

“I am not a part of the royal family, even though they took me in all the same. I am but their royal captain guard. I don’t think they would mind me returning with a child of my own, one in need of help.” she responds.

Atsushi stares at her before humming quietly, resting his head on his shoulder. Byakko freezes up slightly before relaxing quietly, resting her head against his as they continue towards the infirmary.

(A/N: This is all but randomness I spewed out a day or two ago, and let me tell you my brain juices are running dry. But I still wanted to play around with the idea, so have this as a demo. Unsatisfied but satisfied enough to at least place it down here. The one I would make might follow the same outline but with a few changes in the worldbuilding [I'm bad when it comes to that] but everything is mostly the same!)

#lavender fics #I Died and Reincarnated as a Tiger Prince | AU #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd atsushi #bsd byakko #bsd beast beneath the moonlight #bsd yosano

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ghostlyyraccoon · 1 year ago

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Rational Chapter 2 (Kavetham Hanahaki AU)

Warning: graphic depictions of violence, blood, injury, explicit content

Ship: Kaveh/Alhaitham

Chapter: 2/2 Chapter 1

Summary:

Have you heard what they’ve been saying about the Academiya’s Scribe? Rumour has it he’s come down with a lung disease of the most curious kind! The whole House of Daena has witnessed him coughing up leaves and petals like crazy! Apparently, it’s been going on for several weeks, yet the Scribe refused to go see a doctor until his health took a sudden turn for the worse. Yesterday, he was found unconscious at his desk! Fortunately, the General Mahamatra and Light of Kshahrewar were closeby and able to bring him to the Bimarstan before anything worse could happen.

“I am not expected to be back at work until next week,” Alhaitham declared as he crossed the room, sitting down on the divan. For most, It would look like nothing more than a comfortable stroll, while for those more familiar with the Scribe, it would be hard to miss how much care he had to put into sitting down. “Nahida has strictly forbidden me from entering the House of Daena before I'm feeling better again. Apparently, it’s not enough for her that my assailants have been caught already.” Carefully, Alhaitham pulled his legs up, crossing them one over the other. “Well, you certainly won’t catch me complaining about the paid leave. Perhaps my time-out will finally be reason enough to look for an actual replacement for the Grand Sage.”

Kaveh followed him into the room, a packet of bandages in one hand, a jar of ointment in the other. He set both down before putting his hands on his hips, his gaze fixed on Alhaitham’s relaxed form.

“Contrary to you, Lesser Lord Kusanali has common sense and knows that some situations cannot be solved by brute strength alone. Let it taper off and then you’ll be free to do as you please.”

“It would please me to be indefinitely removed from the Grand Sage’s position,” Alhaitham replied drily.

Kaveh tutted his tongue. “Speaking of which, most people in Sumeru would kill to be in your shoes. Yet all you do is complain.” With a sigh, he sat down on the ground. As he continued to speak, he picked up the jar again, starting to unscrew the lid to check how much of the medicine was left inside. “People wouldn’t respect you as much if they knew how you act when you’re out of sight,” he mumbled.

Slowly, Alhaitham uncrossed his legs and leaned down. Within his reach was a book he’d abandoned on the ground several weeks ago. Luckily, Kaveh must have missed it the last time he cleaned up the living room.

He picked it up and blew off the dust that had settled on the cover. “It's too much of a hassle, really. It’s beyond me why anyone would choose this job out of their own free will.”

The jar was still halfway full, so Kaveh set it aside. “You know, most would see it as an honour,” he insisted. “I certainly would see it as such.”

“Well, I think we’ve established time and time again that I'm quite different from other people. All this job got me is unwanted attention, more work hours and a knife in the gut.”

Caught off guard, Kaveh almost dropped the lid. “Good grief, Alhaitham!” His voice caught in his throat. “I don't even know what to say to that.”

Without looking up, Alhaitham opened the book; he had dog-eared it the last time he read it. “That would be a first.”

“You-!” Kaveh took a deep breath to collect himself. “You're incorrigible. Now stop trying to distract me, I need to take a look at your wound.”

Slowly, Alhaitham peered over the edge of his book. “Don’t trouble yourself. I can do it by myself just fine.”

In spite of Alhaitham’s words, Kaveh refused to move. He simply waved the jar of ointment in front of his roommate’s face and raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me if I don't trust your levels of self-care after the stunt you just pulled. The multiple stunts you pulled, actually.” The expression on his face was determined. “Take your shirt off, I am going to check your wound.”

“You're acting like this is some form of punishment.” Alhaitham said. “Which would pose the question: Is it supposed to be my punishment or is it maybe yours after all?”

Kaveh watched him as he turned the page, a perfect picture of nonchalance. Using one hand, he pulled up his shirt, his gaze never straying from the page as he somehow managed to undress himself with almost no reading time lost .

With his eyes trained on the intricate letters, it felt easier to breathe. “There you go. Now stop talking nonsense and let’s just get this over with.”

While his eyes were still trained on one of the pages, his mind was somewhere else entirely. Internally, he braced himself for what was to come. Perhaps it would be easier to stick it out if Kaveh's fingers weren't already ghosting over his abdomen, the touch of his fingertips light like a feather.

“Considering how you chose to play down a near-lethal stab wound you’d more than deserve a little punishment. It kills me that you're probably enjoying this. It's abnormal. If I were stuck inside for weeks it’d drive me crazy.”

“Abnormal? I think I've heard that one before. You have got to try harder if you're aiming to be innovative.”

“You-!” For a moment, Kaveh mulled it over. “Lunatic! You're a lunatic.”

Alhaitham let out a low hum. “That one isn't new either, Kaveh.”

Kaveh threw his hands up in an annoyed manner. “Fine, I give up! People talk about you far too often,” he grumbled.

“And you don't count yourself among those people?”

Carefully, Kaveh took off the bandages, observing the scar with a clinical gaze. “I live with you. I have every reason to complain.”

“I believe Cyno and Tighnari would like to disagree.”

“Oh come on now, don’t act as if you never whine about me.”

“Not to them I don’t.”

“Which implies that you do talk about me, just not with them! Stop acting so high and mighty, Alhaitham. Remind me again which one of us got stabbed in a suspicious alleyway?” Kaveh put the used bandages away and mustered Alhaitham’s wound. Carefully, he let his fingertip run along the pink scar tissue and Alhaitham shivered.

When he received no answer, he kept on talking regardless. “Maybe this is your new strategy to keep me from working.”

“By getting stabbed?” Alhaitham tried his best to keep his breathing calm. “Next time I'll try to keep your timely restrictions in mind before getting assaulted.” Kaveh’s fingers, skilled and spindly as they were, were sending shivers down his spine. Alhaitham felt that sense of guilt he’d grown accustomed to bubble up again. These touches were not his to enjoy. Even more so, it would be unfair to Kaveh, an overstepping of boundaries, if he were to close his eyes and relish in the skinship. Growing up, Alhaitham had so little physical affection, now the mere thought of it was wish and fear alike. Perhaps he was the one being submitted to torture after all.

Kaveh's movements gradually slowed down until they came to a halt. When he started to speak again, his tone was nonchalant.

“Don’t act as if you have no idea what I’m talking about.” For a second, he seemed hesitant, his expression somewhat abashed. Then he cleared his throat, his fist raised to cover his mouth. “So,” he started, “there's something I’ve been meaning to ask you, and I believe you owe me one.” He busied himself with reapplying the ointment, the bandages remaining clean and unused on the table as the wound was already healed enough to leave them off entirely.

Deep down, Alhaitham knew this statement to be true, so he hummed in silent agreement. Distantly, he was aware of how pliant he was being, and partially, he knew to blame his illness for it. Perhaps he was also simply too tired to keep on fighting with Kaveh, especially when he knew there wasn't anything substantial to argue about. How much sense was there to arguments just for the sake of arguing when time was running through his fingers like sand?

Quietly, Kaveh screwed the lid of the ointment shut and placed it on the ground. The sound it made upon meeting the wooden planks rang through their living room with a dull thudding.

“Your illness,” Kaveh began, “why didn't you say anything when you found out? Tighnari, Cyno and I, would we not have supported you?”

The question didn't come as a surprise to him. After all, Kaveh was the one who had found him in his office back then, bloody and weak.

Alhaitham had enough sense to know that an apology was long overdue. Still, how much would an apology be worth if the worst was yet to come? How could he smooth things over when he knew for a fact that he would continue to hurt him? Even though Kaveh didn’t consider him much of a friend, much less so a lover, he'd be foolish to assume his death would be received with insignificance.

Alhaitham had already made his arrangements.The liyuean funeral director he had contacted had sworn him her utmost secrecy. Everything had been dealt with in advance. Kaveh would inherit the house and he most certainly wouldn't be too happy about it.

When Alhaitham first found out about his illness, acceptance had come faster than he’d expected. With the first petal lying in the palm of his hand, his heart beating fast, he'd thought to himself that time had been more than patient with him. It had been a thing of inevitability. Had their relationship been more clear-cut, perhaps he would have felt more guilt about his own transgression. After all, isn't friendship a mutual agreement to stay within the expected perimeters of the relationship?

It was an open secret that Alhaitham tolerated most people. Kaveh however, he accepted, with all his flaws and difficulties. His feelings had always been a race against time and finally, fate had caught up with him.

For Kaveh, the issue of Alhaitham's illness still remained unexplained. A part of him desperately wanted to talk about it, wanted to see how much he could tell without Kaveh catching wind of what truly happened back then.

Foolish as he was, he decided to indulge him. Perhaps his sickness had finally worn him down and made him weary with the way it always had him aching in one way or the other. If it wasn’t his body that was in anguish, then his heart felt more than compelled to do so in its stead.

“I found out quite some time before Cyno and you figured it out,” he admitted. “Six months.”

Kaveh’s eyes widened and his fingers that had been playing with his shirt's collar stilled. “Six months?! And you didn't-”

“I was undecided,” Alhaitham cut in.

Quietly, Kaveh sat down next to him on the divan, his face bathed in disbelief, his nose pale. “And you never even thought to confess? You never thought to confide in us?”

“I considered the repercussions and concluded that it would be pointless to tell. Why bother burdening them with the weight of my misplaced feelings?”

“That is wrong on so many levels, I don't even know where to start.”

Alhaitham turned his gaze towards Kaveh. “Then pray tell, if someone you didn't like confessed to you that they love you so much they're willing to die for it, what would you do? Let them down in kind when rejections of any kind could cause deadly harm? Or would you attempt to return the feelings and make everything worse?” His gaze was piercing. “It would be illogical and unnecessarily cruel.”

“I guess I would… try to see if the feelings could be mutual,” Kaveh replied reluctantly.

“And there you have your answer.”

The thought of Kaveh, once again riddled with guilt over something he had no hand in, had become a common visitor in Alhaitham's mind. It was a mental image he did not welcome; one that had overstayed its welcome months ago.

“And what if they loved you back and you just robbed yourself of your one chance at love?” It was the same debate they always ended up having all over again.

“It was an option I had already ruled out through thorough and time consuming research. I know them well and thus was able to come to my conclusion.”

“You know them well? Then I must know them as well, right? It's not like you have many friends.” Kaveh’s hands were balled into fists, digging into the fabric of his pants. “You still haven't told me their name.”

“And I will keep it that way,” he replied casually. “But it's true, you do know them.” It was a piece of information that came dangerously close to the truth.

Kaveh's lips were pressed into a tight line. “I guess it was idiotic of me to think your reasoning would be anything less than incomprehensible. Not that you've ever been one to change. The thought of you in a relationship? Preposterous. I must be out of my mind! You probably don't even touch yourself and would even less so allow someone else to do in return.”

Alhaitham turned his head to look at Kaveh, his patience wavering with each and every passing second. Sometimes, Kaveh's misinterpretations of his character did hit a nerve after all.

“Do you think I'm a saint? That I never fall infatuated, that I never wish for mutual affection, for physical closeness? That I choose to remain untouched? I may be a scholar but I'm not a eunuch, Kaveh.”

“Are you not?” he answered quickly, his voice suddenly breathless. “It’s not like I’ve ever heard y-”

“Isn't it unscholarly to just assume I never touch myself based on hearsay alone?”

“That’s- That’s most certainly not what I wanted to ask just now!”

Alhaitham was quite certain that was exactly what he wanted to ask about, all decency abandoned in the eye of his fiery nature. He watched the way Kaveh's Adam’s apple bopped up and down as he swallowed and readjusted his sitting position, his hand coming to rest over his lap. There was something about it that made his heart beat faster.

Now curious, Alhaitham's eyes wandered further down.

Kaveh was hard.

He swallowed deeply and resisted the urge to avert his eyes. Now this was an interesting development. An idea began to blossom in his mind.

“Oh?” he asked breathlessly, his eyes on the obvious tent in his roommate's pants. He couldn't stop himself from putting his book away to finally give him his full attention. “What’s gotten you so curious? Do you want to find out?”

Kaveh’s breath caught in his throat. “You're asking if I want to find out whether you're sexually active or not?! Why would I- How would I even-”

Alhaitham's gaze was heavy, his eyes half-lidded. “I think you know how. Don't play coy, Kaveh.” There was this age old curiosity in his chest, this need to be had by Kaveh just once before it all would come crashing down. Even if it would only be for the sake of lust, it would still be better than not having had him at all..

“But you- you have someone you love!”

“And I got the surgery for it,” he lied matter of factly. The flowers in his chest shifted uncomfortably. “So I’d consider this a non-issue.” Perhaps the looming number over his head was getting to him after all. Alhaitham was desperate. He swallowed down petals which were trying to fight their way up his throat.

Kaveh brushed his hair out of his face and watched him with unbelieving eyes. “You want me,” he concluded breathlessly. “Since when-”

“That hardly matters.”

Kaveh threw him a scandalized look. “It definitely does!”

“Why?”

“You're asking me why?! How can you be so cold about this?”

“I'm not being cold about it, I'm simply being pragmatic.”

“Keep your semantics where they came from. We're talking about sex here. And you just suggested us as-”

Alhaitham shoved all feelings aside and pushed through the tightness in his chest, putting all his embarrassment aside. Perhaps later on he'd be able to plead momentary insanity. “Then I'm going to spell it out for you. Do you want to fuck me or not?”

Kaveh looked seconds away from fainting. Aside from their heavy breaths, the room was completely silent.

“You just got hurt and-”

Alhaitham grabbed Kaveh by the wrist, looking him in the eye. “Just answer, Kaveh. It's a simple yes or no question.”

“Would you even let me touch you?” His voice came out sounding standoffish. “There’s no way you’d-”

“If it won’t kill you to do so? Sure.” The answer came quick, unfiltered. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You-”

“You still haven't given me an answer. If you truly don't want to, feel free to reject me to your heart's content.”

Maybe it would kill him before his time was truly up, he thought. Of course, there was no way for Kaveh to know this. It was a prim and proper way out of a situation Alhaitham would never force him into. But if he were to agree…

Kaveh's cheeks were flushed red. Slowly, he lifted his hand and put it against Alhaitham’s cheek. Experimentally, he rubbed his thumb along his cheekbone. His eyes were big with wonder as he leaned in, his touches careful and new.

“Archons. Read between the lines, won't you? Just for tonight.”

Just for tonight. So Kaveh was at least willing to sacrifice that much. It wasn't a full commitment, but much rather one single night that could still easily be dismissed as a lapse of judgement on Kaveh's part.

Alhaitham felt like he was taking advantage of him regardless. For once however, his body and mind were in a state of incongruence.

Kaveh's hand was shaking as he pulled closer. “Can I … kiss you?” he eventually asked. It was unclear whether the question was directed at Alhaitham or himself.

Alhaitham leaned into the touch and closed his eyes, opening them only to watch his roommate from under his lashes. “I’d like to see you try,” he taunted.

Kaveh swallowed deeply and nodded to himself, for once at a loss for words. “Okay, sure. Yeah, I can-”

As soon as he got visual confirmation, Alhaitham closed the distance between them, making the choice for him. With his head tilted, he pressed his lips against Kaveh’s. A small sound left Kaveh’s lips, a mixture between a sigh and a sound of surprise. It didn't take him long to reciprocate. The kiss was careful, soft like a whisper in the wind.

It wasn't Alhaitham's first, but it certainly was his best. Not that he had much material to compare it to anyway. He could count the times people had kissed him on one hand. Alhaitham himself had never initiated a kiss before. Until now, that was. Some part of him was glad that Kaveh would be both his first and his last in that regard.

For a moment, he pulled away only for Kaveh’s hand to travel up his neck, finding refuge in his hair as he pulled him back in again. Their lips connected, this time with less curiosity and more desperation. When their noses bumped together, Alhaitham angled his head, opening his mouth to grant Kaveh better access. Their position was awkward as they were still sitting next to one another. For a short moment, Alhaitham felt soothed, the tightness in his chest replaced with a soft buzzing.

“Fuck it,” Kaveh then mumbled against his lips before swinging one leg over Alhaitham's lap, mounting him. They separated long enough for Kaveh to sling his arm around Alhaitham's neck before returning to it. One hand slid up to Kaveh’s waist, holding onto it for dear life.

He could feel Kaveh’s boner pressing against his bare stomach, but Alhaitham himself wasn't doing much better in that regard. There was a certain warmth filling his chest, swiftly travelling down his ribcage and for once, he found himself in an agreeable state of mind.

“When have you become so shameless, Senior?” he asked between breaths, a smile on his lips.

“Oh shut up you. You started this,” Kaveh mumbled against his lips as he slid his tongue in. Alhaitham welcomed it with open arms. They didn't separate and he let his hand travel up Kaveh's back, diving into the hole of his blouse that exposed his tight back muscles. Alhaitham had half the mind to admit that he’d been fantasizing about doing exactly so ever since he'd first seen Kaveh wear it, but decided against it.

Kaveh shivered against the touch, pressing himself even closer to his chest, his nose pressed against the soft skin of Alhaitham’s cheek as he halted for a moment to take a shuddering breath.

“You’re so sensitive,” Alhaitham mumbled next to his ear, his lips pressing against the skin beneath it for the shortest of moments to wander down, leaving a hot trail of kisses down to the base of his neck. Kaveh exhaled lightly and put his hand on Alhaitham’s neck, letting his fingers run over his pulse point.

“And you aren’t?” he replied, his voice uncharacteristically quiet as he closed his eyes and took hold of Alhaitham’s face, leading his lips back to his own. He stopped right before they could touch. “Tell me why you would want this,” he breathed against his lips. “I still don’t get what led to this. Tell me I’m not hallucinating.”

A chuckle escaped Alhaitham’s lips. “Do you feel like telling me what else you fantasize about in your freetime?”

He could feel Kaveh’s cheeks heating up at the taunt. “I don’t understand you at all,” he bit back.

“This is real. What reason would I have to ask for something I do not agree with?”

Seemingly, this was all that Kaveh needed to hear as he buried both hands in Alhaitham’s hair and kissed him with a fervour and with such a sudden intensity that Alhaitham felt his mind going blank. Kaveh tugged at his hair, lightly, carefully, and Alhaitham barely managed to suppress a groan.

Carefully, he untucked Kaveh’s shirt so he could let both hands roam freely while Kaveh’s mouth traveled further down to trail kisses along his jaw. The feeling of Kaveh's rib cage under his fingertips was a welcome distraction.

When Kaveh reached the side of Alhaitham’s neck, he bit his skin lightly, waiting for a response before placing a soothing kiss on top. Quietly, he sucked a hickey against his pulse point and Alhaitham let him. Even if nothing else but the memory remained, at least the marks would be a reminder to bridge over his last days.

As Kaveh continued to suck mark after mark on his skin, Alhaitham regained what little remained of his common sense. A shuddery breath escaped his lips as he opened his mouth, his own erection now barely hidden. “Let’s take this…” he started, but was then interrupted as a gasp escaped his lips when Kaveh sucked at an especially sensitive spot below his ear.

Kaveh’s head shot up, the expression on his face incredulous, his pupils blown wide. “Archons, that was hot,” he blurted out to immediately move closer again, his hands cupping his face as he recaptured Alhatham’s lips. Alhaitham wrapped his arm around Kaveh’s waist and pulled him closer, one hand wandering further down until it came to rest right above Kaveh’s ass. He let it wander further down, giving it an experimental squeeze and when Kaveh took in a shuddery breath at the touch, he ground his ass further against Alhaitham’s now undeniable erection.

Between kisses, Alhaitham tried to find room to talk. “Let’s take this to the bedroom,” he eventually managed to offer. Of course, he’d have nothing against getting his world rocked on their living room divan. Archons, he’d most definitely fantasized about it before, but there was a certain part of him that wanted this done properly. Also, there was another part of him that remembered the kind of back pain he tended to get after long reading sessions on the divan and concluded that he didn’t need a repeat of that right now.

Kaveh scrambled off him and grabbed his wrist, pulling Alhaitham with him as they headed towards his room. His pointer rubbed along Alhaitham’s skin, ghosting up and down as if he were afraid the loss of touch would break the magic of the moment.

As soon as they were inside, they didn’t even care enough to close the door behind them. Who was there to see them anyway? This was their home.

They stumbled into Kaveh’s sheets, Kaveh going first and pulling Alhaitham with him. “Now where were we?” Alhaitham pondered and Kaveh made a face, but chose to stay quiet for once. Instead, he goaded Alhaitham closer. “I think,” he began, “we were in the middle of something.”

“And what would that have been?”

Kaveh shut him up with his lips, his eyebrows slightly creased. He pushed Alhaitham further into the bed, crawling on top of him. Alhaitham realized that he didn't mind lying beneath him at all. The weight of Kaveh’s body on top of his own felt strangely grounding. Kaveh's arms were caging him in and he felt safe.

In bed, Kaveh was the same as he was in a heated argument: Overly eager and passionate to a fault. His hands wandered down towards Alhaitham's waistband, slipping underneath the tight fabric. Carefully, his fingertips started to explore all the edges and ridges, travelling over strong hip bones and his v-line, coming dangerously close to his boner.

“How do we want to do this,” he mumbled, halting momentarily.

Although Alhaitham would be fine either way, he had a specific image in mind. He hooked his leg over Kaveh’s waist and flipped them over to tilt Kaveh’s head to the side with his pointer. Although his expression was gobsmacked, Kaveh let him. Alhaitham's nose brushed over the sensitive skin on his neck as he leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “Haven't I said it before? I want you to fuck me.”

Kaveh stared up at him, his lips parted and eyes glazed over with want.

When there was no answer, Alhaitham pressed his lips against Kaveh’s neck, leaving a particularly dark hickey right where everyone would be able to see it. Kaveh let out a shuddering breath, his eyes closed.

When he opened his eyes again, his cheeks were flushed. He turned his head to the side before looking up at Alhaitham again. “Leave it to you to be this unromantic.”

“Next time I’ll light a candle or two.”

“Because a candle would fix things.”

Alhaitham laughed quietly and put his head down against Kaveh’s chest, but not before pressing a soft kiss against it.

“What else would you expect from me then?” It was a ridiculous thing to ask, perhaps even masochistic to a degree, since Kaveh had stated quite clearly that their sexual encounter would be a one time only thing. Alhaitham swallowed the hurt and turned it into blossoms against Kaveh’s skin when he didn't answer. As Alhaitham travelled further down, Kaveh’s eyebrows knit together and his tongue darted past his lips. It was a beautiful sight and Alhaitham ached. He mouthed at the cloth keeping him separated from Kaveh’s cock, rubbing his cheek over it.

“What are you doing?” Kaveh mumbled as his hand buried itself in Alhaitham’s hair, running through the silky tresses. Alhaitham closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation. After a moment, he hummed in reply.

“Didn't you want to-”

“Get fucked by you? Yes, all in good time.”

Kaveh let out a frustrated noise. “Argh! Stop saying it like that, it’s weird hearing it come out of your mouth!”

Alhaitham leaned on his elbow. One hand travelled up, caressing Kaveh’s chest, grazing over his rosy nipple and pinching it slightly, while the other began to undo his zipper. Kaveh’s cock sprung free, and it was nothing less than a sight to see. Alhaitham whistled through his teeth.

“Don’t even start,” Kaveh pleaded from parted lips. Alhaitham removed his hand and Kaveh cracked an eye open almost immediately.

“I was simply going to comment on how you are incredibly well endowed for a man of your stature. Studies say-

“Oh my god, just shut up!” Kaveh whined, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow.

Alhaitham took the opportunity to place a soft kiss against the shaft, looking up to observe Kaveh’s reaction. It was obvious he had felt it from the way his hips twitched and his lips parted. When Alhaitham ran the flat of his tongue from the base up to the tip, slowly and testingly, Kaveh’s resolve to stay quiet seemed to crumble. His lips moved quietly, spelling out a flurry of words. A shaky breath escaped his lips.

Alhaitham added his hand, stroking it up and down as he lowered his head. After all, there was no one who knew how to rile Kaveh up quite like him. After a few more pumps and a few more loving caresses of Kaveh’s ballsack, Alhaitham opened his mouth and took Kaveh’s dick in. It was hot to the touch and slightly salty to the taste. Experimentally, he swirled his tongue around, lapping at the head.

“Alhaitham!” The sound that escaped Kaveh’s lips came out sounding half-scandalized, half-breathless.

Alhaitham hummed at the call of his name and their eyes met. Kaveh’s eyes were watery, half-lidded and glazed over with lust. Alhaitham made sure not to break eye contact as he sank down further. Kaveh’s dick hit the back of his throat, but he felt challenged to take it even further. For a moment, he breathed in through his nose, forcing his throat to relax as he welcomed Kaveh in. Once the feeling of discomfort started to subside, he started bopping his head further down, his hair falling into his eyes. All of a sudden, Kaveh’s hand was in his hair, pushing it back for him and pinning it behind his ear with care.

“Where did you-” Kaveh gasped, his voice raspy. “ Where did you learn to do that?”

Alhaitham hummed in the back of his throat and pulled back again before sinking down further. Kaveh’s grip on his hair tightened and Alhaitham felt the desire burning hot in his abdomen when Kaveh’s dick twitched inside of his throat.

“I think I’m gonna-”

Alhaitham lifted an eyebrow, his sight set on Kaveh and Kaveh alone as he picked up the pace.

Kaveh’s hand tapped his head, slow at first, then more urgently. Alhaitham slid his hand over Kaveh’s thigh, gripping it, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he swallowed around Kaveh’s twitching cock and welcomed the warm cum shooting down his throat, accompanied by Kaveh’s groan of relief. Alhaitham watched the way his eyelids fluttered shut as he orgasmed. When the twitching calmed down, Alhaitham pulled off with a pop, the taste of Kaveh’s cum still strong on his tongue.

“Archons, Alhaitham.” Kaveh propped himself up again, his chest heaving up and down as he ran his hand through his disheveled hair.

“I thought you wanted me to shut up? That’s what I did,” Alhaitham replied nonchalantly as he wiped his mouth.

Kaveh leaned forward, his hands still shaky from his orgasm as he reached around Alhaitham’s neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss. It was a sloppy, needy thing. The kiss was enough to remind the roots residing in Alhaitham’s lungs to tighten their grasp.

Although they hadn't set any boundaries, it was strange to be able to kiss Kaveh without any repercussions and even stranger to be kissed back so passionately. Alhaitham knew that there would be no coming back from this once the night was over. He swallowed the cough that was threatening to escape.

Kaveh’s hand started to wander, first exploring Alhaitham’s tight back muscles, then wandering down to find refuge in the small of his back. The sensation made Alhaitham’s skin tingle. Then Kaveh’s hands travelled further down, grabbing onto Alhaitham’s ass.

He had been staying quiet for a while now and it was putting Alhaitham on edge. The roots in his chest were starting to stir again, unruly and nervous, edging him on to say or do something to make it all better, to change the fate he had already come to terms with.

When Kaveh’s lips went off track, pressing down against his cheek, along his jawbone and up behind his ear, Alhaitham tilted his head, deciding to simply relish in what he was given.

Kaveh nibbled at the sensitive skin near his throat, leaving another mark. While they were lost in each other's touch, Kaveh reached behind without looking back, struggling as he tried to open the drawer near his bed to pull out a small ampoule. He threw it onto the bed next to them. “Lube,” he explained.

They both reached for it at the same time.

“Let me help,” he started, when at the same time, Alhaitham opened his mouth as well.

“I can do it myself just fine.”

Kaveh’s hands slid up his throat, coming to rest there. “You-” He cleared his throat. “You sucked me off. Let me return the favor.”

Alhaitham let out a deep breath. The thought of Kaveh’s fingers, rough and skilled as they were, buried inside of him, was enough to make his heart thump at a faster pace. “Also… it’s embarrassing that I’m the only one who’s completely naked.”

Alhaitham’s eyes wandered down again.

“Hey! Are you even listening to me?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I was just distracted for a moment.”

“Distracted? You were definitely staring. Stop staring! Okay that’s it!” Without any warning Kaveh pushed Alhaitham down against the mattress, his hands firm on his shoulders.

Decidedly, he let both hands slide further down, from Alhaitham’s broad chest down to his pants. When he undid his zipper, his hand brushed over his bulge and Alhaitham shivered, his hips bucking upwards to chase the feeling.

Kaveh took note of the movement, but returned to the task at hand. It was a struggle to get Alhaitham out of his pants, but in the end he managed to pull through. Alhaitham was propped up on one elbow, watching the way Kaveh sat face to face with Alhaitham’s black briefs.

“Chickening out?”

Kaveh threw him an annoyed look as he hooked his thumbs under the expensive fabric, his fingernails grazing Alhaitham’s skin as he pulled the piece of clothing past his hips. Alhaitham’s cock sprung free, the cold air hitting it with a vengeance.

“Of course you have to be flawless in that regard too,” Kaveh mumbled.

“What was that?”

Kaveh let out a deep breath and ran his hand along his temple. “Come here.”

“What for?” When Alhaitham didn’t follow suit, only leaning back further to throw Kaveh a taunting look, Kaveh wrapped his arms around his thighs and pulled him closer.

“Can you at least try not to be actively difficult?”

“But where would be the fun in that?”

Kaveh took the ampoule and unscrewed it, pouring a generous amount of lube into his palm. He made sure that his fingers were properly coated before he moved closer.

“I’m about to enter you and you really think this is the time to be joking?”

Alhaitham spread his legs a bit wider when Kaveh came to rest between them. The feeling of Kaveh’s lube-coated finger circling his hole was strange, but not unwelcome. When Kaveh’s free hand slid up his thigh, massaging it slowly, reassuringly, Alhaitham relaxed. A part of him wanted to slide his hand over Kaveh’s, wished to entangle their hands to keep them connected, but he knew he’d be crossing an invisible boundary if he were to do so. Instead, he buried one hand in the pillow above his head and nodded at Kaveh to keep going.

Kaveh applied some more lube before he positioned his pointer and carefully applied more pressure to push it in. As he rubbed soothing circles into Alhaitham’s thigh he managed to push past the tight ring of muscle and kept going until he was more than knuckle-deep. He started to move his finger at an agonizingly slow pace, meticulous in execution as he tried to get Alhaitham used to the feeling. The sensation was neither good nor bad, so Alhaitham found no problem with it. Of course, he had tried fucking himself on his fingers before, but it was a different story when it was somebody else doing it to you. A minute passed.

“Kaveh, add another,” he simply said when he felt ready. Kaveh looked up at him for a short moment, his gaze focused. He pulled out and added the second finger without any issues. The stretch felt sweet and did not sting thanks to the lube. It was a feeling of fullness Alhaitham rarely got to experience. The fact that it came from Kaveh’s fingers alone made his erection feel almost painfully stiff. He’d been hard for a while now and the lack of relief was becoming more apparent by the minute. Alhaitham noticed his thoughts becoming more hazy and all over the place. When Kaveh curled the two fingers, grazing past an especially sensitive bundle of nerves, his eyes fell shut, and his fist tightened around the pillowcase. A low sigh escaped his lips. Kaveh’s movements slowed at the sound. He turned his head, lowered it and pressed a quick kiss against his thigh.

“Are you okay?” he asked after.

It took Alhaitham a moment until he was able to form proper thoughts again. “Add another one.” There was a quiver to his voice that he wasn’t used to.

Kaveh obliged. “Wait a moment, I think it’s a bit…”

Alhaitham grunted in response at the first wave of discomfort. “Tight. Use more lube.”

Kaveh did as he was told and tried again, this time with even more care. Slowly, he added finger number three, pushing it past that tight ring of muscles to join the first two. Once the worst part was over, Kaveh went back to pressing kisses against Alhaitham’s thigh as he started to scissor him open. When he was knuckles-deep again, spreading and pumping his fingers to ease what was about to come, he sucked a dark mark into the skin of Alhaitham’s thigh. A moan, low and breathy, escaped his lips and his untouched dick twitched with the first pearls of precum.

Kaveh continued to prepare him thoroughly. “Hey,” he mumbled against Alhaitham’s thigh that was starting to bear the first few dark marks. He pressed another sloppy kiss against the sensitive inside and Alhaitham shivered.

Begging was far too much effort, but if Kaveh kept going like this, perhaps he’d have to reconsider.

Alhaitham grabbed Kaveh’s chin and turned his head. “If you keep this going I’m going to come.”

Kaveh continued to push his fingers in deeper, curling them towards the end, making Alhaitham quiver. As usual, Kaveh showed himself annoyingly averse to his suggestions.

“Kaveh.” Alhaitham propped himself up further, the feeling of Kaveh’s fingers inside him now so much more sweet and taunting. He had half the mind to press into the touch. “Won’t you give me your huge cock, Senior?”

Kaveh’s movements stilled and his ears flushed bright red.

Carefully, he pulled out his fingers before pulling Alhaitham in for a long kiss. “I can’t believe you,” he mumbled against his lips, his breath hot. “How can you just say stuff like that, are you not embarrassed?!”

“Not in the slightest, no.”

Alhaitham pushed Kaveh onto his back, all patience lost in the heat of the moment. “Stop wasting our time.” He straddled Kaveh’s hips, his dick, already hard again, lying nestled in-between Alhaitham’s ass cheeks. Teasingly, he rubbed his ass against Kaveh’s boner. Kaveh threw his head back. “Okay, okay, I got it. Let’s do this.”

Alhaitham lifted his hips, Kaveh’s dick now lined up with his entrance. He squeezed a generous amount of lube onto it, smearing it across the tip just to see the way it made him squirm. His free hand was splayed across Kaveh’s chest, pinching his nipple as he started to lower himself onto Kaveh’s dick.

The stretch was good, slightly uncomfortable at first, but not painful. Kaveh let him go at his own pace, allowing him to get used to the feeling. He rubbed his hands over Alhaitham’s thighs in support. Alhaitham grabbed them, guiding them to rest on his hips instead. Kaveh was now halfway buried inside, and Alhaitham’s patience was running thin. He breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth and let one hand slide over Kaveh’s, grabbing onto it as he sank down to the hilt.

Once he was fully settled, a strange feeling started to fill him up. Alhaitham was rarely one to get emotional, yet all of a sudden, he felt like he was close to tearing up. It was a certain kind of closeness he had never gotten to experience with Kaveh before. He turned his head away, coughing shortly as Kaveh ran his hands over Alhaitham’s ass, kneading his toned cheeks.

Without any warning Alhaitham leaned forward, capturing Kaveh’s lips with his own. As he leaned forward, he felt the pull at his rim as their position changed and Kaveh bucked his hips to accommodate for it.

“Jesus, you’re tight,” he breathed out between kisses. Alhaitham began to lift his hips slowly, releasing Kaveh’s cock just to push his hips back down again. Kaveh’s cock reached deep down, brushing a sensitive spot, making Alhaitham swallowed deeply, all words lost to lust. When he lifted his hips again he pulled out too far and Kaveh’s cock slipped out.

When he reached around to slip it back in, Kaveh stopped him.

“Let’s switch positions. You’re still recovering.” He sat back up, his legs crossed, and pulled Alhaitham onto his lap, his back flush against Kaveh’s chest. Kaveh testingly pushed his fingers back inside Alhaitham’s hole, stretching it some more. A low moan escaped Alhaitham’s lips and he let his head fall back as his vision threatened to blur.

“Get on with it, Kaveh,” he groaned, his impatience barely hidden.

Kaveh pressed a hot trail of kisses along his neck as he pulled out his fingers and lined his cock back up with Alhaitham’s hole. “Stop being so impatient,” he mumbled back and pressed past the tight ring of muscles. “Aren’t you the one who always preaches that patience is a virtue?”

As soon as Kaveh was buried inside of him again, Alhaitham pushed his hips down to swallow him whole. It was a nice feeling that was only disturbed by the urgency of his erection and the shortness of his breath. He started to bounce up and down and Kaveh met him along the way, thrusting where he couldn’t reach.

“There's no scar, I thought there'd be one,” Kaveh suddenly mumbled as he pounded into him. He let his hand run along the sensitive skin of his chest, letting it run down until it reached his abdomen, ghosting over the fresh pink scar. “There's only this one,” he mumbled. “And this one, I remember well.”

Kaveh buried his face in the crook of Alhaitham's neck, breathing in deeply as he kept talking in spite of Alhaitham’s silence. “You smell like mourning flowers…” he mumbled. “They've always been my favourite.”

Alhaitham suppressed a cough, trying to focus on the sensation of Kaveh's cock buried to the hilt inside of him. He threw his head backwards until it rested against Kaveh’s shoulder and let out a shuddery breath. A bead of sweat ran down his temple.

“You talk too much. Get on with it,” he said impatiently, trying to press his hips down further until Kaveh caved in, snaking one hand up Alhaitham’s bare chest as he returned to his rhythm and gave a proper thrust.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured into Alhaitham’s neck, pressing open mouthed kisses against it as he tried to maintain a steady rhythm. “Maybe you just don’t talk enough. Have you ever considered that? Wait, scratch that. I don’t need you running your mouth more than you already do.”

“Which one is it,” Alhaitham forced out between heavy breaths. “Do you want me to shut up or be more vocal?”

Kaveh ran his tongue along the salty skin on Alhaitham's neck and wrapped his arm around his torso, pulling him even closer. When Alhaitham let out a shaky breath, Kaveh's lips curled into a smile against his skin. His next thrust hit the bull’s eye. With this new angle, Kaveh now had perfect access to reach that sensitive bundle of nerves. He gave another big thrust and Alhaitham left out a stuttering breath as the tip of his cock leaked with more precum. His heartbeat was fast, almost erratic now as he felt himself teetering closer and closer on the edge.

The hold Kaveh had on his body was warm and reassuring. As Alhaitham found himself surrounded by Kaveh’s scent, the reality of the situation suddenly set in. Kaveh was fucking him, for the first and only time, and Alhaitham would soon see the light for it. That annoying tightness in his chest returned with a vengeance when Kaveh kissed his neck and nibbled at the sensitive skin, mouthing words he didn’t understand against his skin.

He couldn't take this much longer. Alhaitham moved his hips to accompany Kaveh’s thrusts, attempting to chase his finish with a newfound desperation. Kaveh seemed to notice, since his grip tightened and his thrusts turned more targeted. His hand traveled further down, coming to rest flat against Alhaitham's abdomen, caressing it, pressing down on it. The next thrust hit just the right spot and finally, Alhaitham felt his orgasm, tight like a fist, coming in strong as Kaveh gave a few last shaky thrusts, pulling Alhaitham's waist down one last time until he spilled inside of him.

Alhaitham felt a tear roll down his cheek. Then, a wetness coming from his nose followed. It dripped down his chest, down his leg as he tried to take in a deep breath and found himself unable to. The tightness in his chest wasn't something he could simply ignore anymore. It was urgent now. Alhaitham coughed again and a rain of petals spilled as the post-orgasm exhaustion hit him.

“Alhaitham, what…” Kaveh's voice sounded strangely far off.

Alhaitham pulled off Kaveh's cock, the sudden emptiness nauseating, the dribble of cum running down his inner thigh strange. In a daze, he wiped his cheek before turning back around.

Kaveh was leaning back, one hand lifted and his mouth open in shock. Alhaitham simply stared back at him. The room was dead silent.

“You never got the surgery in the first place,” Kaveh stated, his voice shaky and raw. For once, Alhaitham found no words to say. There was nothing that would fix what he had just broken anyway. “Don't you know that this could kill you?! I can't believe you right now. You lied not only to me, but to all of us! It could still kill you! As always, all you care about is yourself!”

Alhaitham turned to look at him and remained quiet.

“I'm going to get washed up.” His thighs were still shaking from the strain and he almost stumbled when he got up, picked up his underwear and left Kaveh behind on his bed.

Alhaitham was staring down his reflection in the mirror. When making a detrimental decision, he rarely ever considered his own emotions to be a contributing factor. Now, for the first time, he found himself wondering if maybe he should have done so after all.

It was supposed to be a one-time thing. A washing of hands, if one might say so. A quick and easy release. It was supposed to be his one chance to witness what it might be like to be loved, to be wanted by Kaveh, if only for the duration of a single night. Now, Kaveh's words tasted like iron on his tongue, heavy and red.

The moment he dropped the suggestion, Alhaitham had known he was done for. Yet still, Kaveh hadn’t scoffed at the suggestion, didn’t laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Something about it must have tempted him. For once, Alhaitham couldn’t understand Kaveh's reasoning.

Now, the cat was out of the bag and there was no way to shove it back inside. His chest felt tight, constricted, his hands were shaking as he grabbed onto the sink for dear life. There was a certain kind of nausea filling his gut, making him feel uncomfortably close to fainting. Perhaps this was it.

Alhaitham took a good look at his dishevelled presence in the mirror; he should clean himself up. Normally, he'd scoff at the stickiness of it all, bail from the sensation. However, he was far too aware of the fact that once he got out of the shower, most traces of what had taken place would be gone. The marks on his skin would vanish in no time, leaving nothing but painful memories behind. It would be just another thing for Kaveh to regret.

For once, Alhaitham felt his unwavering psyche crumble, his body still warm from his orgasm, his skin abandoned after having been cherished too dearly. There was so much he still craved and so little left to take. Then his legs, traitorous things that they were, gave in. Alhaitham had enough sense to cling to the edge of the bathtub with one hand as he swayed backwards. The flower that had been lodged in his chest, kept there for safekeeping, finally threatened to break free.

There was no way for him to breathe. A choked sound escaped his lips as he tried to cough it out, but it wasn't enough. A trickle of blood escaped his nose, dripping onto the bathroom tiles. Alhaitham could feel the sound repeating in his head like a taunt.

With shaky fingers he reached inside his mouth and broke the flower free. It dislodged after a painful tug, landing next to his side. The inside of his throat felt raw and open. His breathing was flat and painful.

All he wanted was Kaveh. Alhaitham felt like a petulant child with how often the thought seemed to run through his mind as of late.

And what now? He had gotten what he wanted, hadn't he? What was there left to unearth and ruin?

Another mourning flower was quick to follow. They were Kaveh’s favourites. What a joke.

For a moment, Alhaitham allowed his head to drop into his hands. He had taunted and teased, had kept his heart locked away behind the doors of a glass house. Finally, he had allowed Kaveh to fill him up and hold him close, the traces of him still sticky against his skin. Perhaps it was time to accept that he’d finally reached his breaking point.

For the first time in years, Alhaitham felt the need to cry. The last time he did was when his grandmother had passed. A tear slipped past the hand that had come to cover his eyes. Another whole flower broke free, a particularly big one, and it wasn't pretty. He was exhausted, the marks on his skin a grim reminder.

Alhaitham couldn't say how long he'd been sitting on the bathroom floor until he heard a knock.

He did not move, just sat there even when he heard someone enter the bathroom.

Still, he refused to look up. There was a sharp intake of breath cutting the silence of the room in half.

Then, familiar hands slid over his own, carefully prying them off his face.

“Hey.” There it was. Of course, it just had to be him again.

“What is it,” he replied. His own voice sounded strange and foreign to him, void of any emotion. Reluctantly, he pried his eyes back open. Kaveh was staring at him, his eyebrows knit together and eyes wet, so full of worry that it made him nauseous. Despite his overly emotional disposition, Kaveh was rarely one to cry. From time to time there would be this deer in the headlights look on his face that Alhaitham deeply disliked for various reasons, but Kaveh never cried. This was different.

Carefully, almost like one would approach a wounded animal, Kaveh lifted his hand. “Let's get you-”

“No.”

“Alhaitham-”

“Leave it.” Harsh words were followed by an even harsher cough. Petals, bloody, sopping wet and weeping, were trying to break free. “Don't concern yourself with this.”

“Why didn't you get the surgery?” Kaveh exclaimed, his voice rising with emotion. His hands were balled into fists by his side.

A sound escaped his lips, a mix between a cough and a scoff.

“Did something go wrong, were there any complications? You must’ve had a reason aside from your infuriating bullheadedness.”

“I didn't get it because I refused to,” Alhaitham confessed calmly.

“You're still not over-”

“How could I be?”

Kaveh reached for Alhaitham's hand, but he pulled it away before he could reach it.

“Then why did you sleep with me?! Answer me, Alhaitham!”

“What do you want me to say? That I should’ve known better? I am perfectly aware of that already.”

“Who is it?”

After all that happened tonight, Kaveh still managed to remain stubbornly clueless. A dry chuckle escaped his lips. “Your head isn't solely for decorative purposes. Use it.” The words came out sounding too raw, too close to the truth.

When Kaveh tried to reach for Alhaitham again, he paused.

Alhaitham coughed up another bloody petal into his palm and Kaveh just stared. Carefully, he reached out and pried Alhaitham's bloody hand open. His fingernails scraped against his palm as he picked up the petal, turning it over in his hand until something in his brain finally clicked.

“Mourning flowers,” he repeated, the words he'd uttered in the heat of the moment begging to make sense as clarity hit him. “They’ve always been my favourite,” he said slowly, his voice breaking at the realization. A minute passed. “Tell me that I'm wrong. Come on, tell me my conclusion is incorrect. You're so quick to do it any other day.”

When Alhaitham's gaze remained fixed to the opposite wall, Kaveh swallowed thickly. “You are being serious.”

Alhaitham avoided making eye contact with him, his eyes lined red. Another droplet of blood escaped his nose and he let it drip, lacking both the energy and the will to clean it up again. The liquid ran past his lips, over his chin and down onto his chest. There would be so much more to come, so what would be the use to clean it up now? His only regret was that Kaveh was there to witness it all. Despite himself, his eyes felt heavy.

Finally, Kaveh couldn't take it anymore. He sat down across from him, the bathroom tiles cold against his thighs as he inched closer. He closed the distance between them and without asking, he pulled Alhaitham into a tight embrace, his head burying into his shoulder.

Alhaitham's head fell against his chest.

Words he couldn't hear were uttered against his skin and he allowed them to rest there in the space between their bodies.

“Why do you insist on suffering for my sake?” Kaveh mumbled, all anger blown away. His hands were shaking as they carded through Alhaitham's hair.

“Who said I did it for your sake?” he replied slowly before his body was shaken with another suffocating cough and Kaveh only held him tighter. When his breathing calmed again, he leaned his cheek against his shoulder, exhausted. “Let it go, Kaveh. I know very well what is and what isn't possible. I never expected to bite off more than I can chew.”

“You're so full of it! If you've given up all hope, then why did you still sleep with me?” The expression on his face was wild, guilty. This was exactly what Alhaitham had been trying to avoid.

“Why indeed. Perhaps I simply like being selfish.”

“When have you ever cared about being considerate for someone else's sake?!”

Alhaitham chose to remain quiet. He felt light headed and closed his eyes.

“Alhaitham, hey.”

Exhaustion was pulling at his bones as every new breath came out rattling and rough. Because I like to have you in my life. And I’d like to keep you by my side until the very end.

Kaveh suddenly pulled back, his eyebrows high and expression shocked. “Say that again.”

“I said that out loud? Oh well. My bad.”

“How can you be so calm about this, can't you see-”

“Didn't I already say this was none of your concern?” he cut in.

Kaveh clenched his fists. “Why won't you even consider the possibility that I don't want to see you die!”

“Because you have no say in the matter.”

“Arguably, I am the only other person who gets to have a say in the matter!” Kaveh emphasized.

“And why would that be?”

“Because I love you, you inconsiderate oat! You don't just get to leave me all alone like this! Iif you think I’ll just let you do that you have a big storm coming!”

Alhaitham spit out another mouthful of petals as he let one hand rest across his chest. “Repeat that for me,” he said weakly.

“You were the one who said you got the surgery. I thought you were over it! How could I have known…”

“You would have felt guilty if I had told you. There was no need to burden you with my feelings if it would only push you for an answer you couldn't give.”

“But I am giving you the answer you need right now, am I not? So accept it!” Kaveh's voice was shaky. “Why else would I have slept with you?” Slowly, Kaveh entangled his fingers with Alhaitham's, pulling their entwined hands close to his chest. “Tell me what you want from me.”

Alhaitham looked up and their eyes met. Slowly, he ran his hand over Kaveh's cheek, running his thumb under his eye to catch a stray tear. “Everything,” he said. “You know I'm a selfish man. Whatever you are willing to offer, I'll take.”

Kaveh leaned into the touch.

“Then kiss me already.”

Alhaitham pulled close, and when he hesitated for a moment, Kaveh closed the distance between them, making the choice for him.

“Well, who do we have here again?” Tighnari asked, his tone dry and his arms crossed as he entered the room. Alhaitham and Kaveh were sitting next to one another, their thighs touching casually.

“Tighnari! You are a sight for sore eyes!” Kaveh exclaimed as he placed his right palm over his heart. “A stubborn idiot and a bullheaded fool, that’s what you have here.”

“As you can see, Kaveh has stooped low enough to resort to verbal abuse.” Alhaitham explained as he nodded at Tighnari.

“Verbal abuse?! I think I have every right to be cross with you right now! Okay Tighnari, so help me settle a bet here, do you think that-”

Tighnari lifted his hand to pause Kaveh’s incoming rant. “How come every time you call for me you two have something entirely new going on?”

Kaveh threw him a pleading look. “Come on Tighnari, this will be the last time!”

“Based on either of your penchants for getting yourself in trouble,” he threw them a pointed look, “I highly doubt that. Don’t tell me you’ve called me again when you really should’ve gone to the Bimarstan instead”

Kaveh scratched the back of his head in a sheepish manner. “Well, it’s not not your area of expertise. And we actually just came back from the Bimarstan. Not that Alhaitham would’ve gone out of his own free will, so of course I had to drag him along.”

“For all intents and purposes, the trip was pretty useless,” Alhaitham threw in, earning him a heated glare from Kaveh’s side. “Considering how I was already healthy again once we got there.”

This piqued Tighnari’s curiosity. Finally, he sat down on the divan closest to the two, one leg thrown over the other, his torso leaning forward. When he did so, Tighnari took note of something strange.

“Are you two holding hands?” he asked without missing a beat. When he leaned closer and inspected his two friends some more, he noticed more little details. “Kaveh, are those hickeys that I see?” Kaveh’s cheeks heated up in the span of mere seconds and he dropped Alhaitham’s hand instantly. “Tighnari! You can’t just… It’s not-!” he started, then stopped himself. His eyes darted to the side quickly, hurriedly. When he returned his gaze to Alhaitham, a silent conversation seemed to pass between the two.

Kaveh raised his eyebrows at Alhaitham before nodding towards Tighnari. Alhaitham stared at him, then shrugged, which seemed to anger Kaveh, making him gesture even more wildly. Alhaitham shrugged in reply once more.

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” he then simply said, his voice just as monotone as it always was. A beat passed. “My disease was caused by my feelings for him and I lied about getting the surgery for it.”

Kaveh’s cheeks were still rosy. “See, this is what I was talking about! He is the most impossible man! Just outright admitting to lying like that… With absolutely zero shame, one might add!”

“For all it’s worth, I am sorry,” Alhaitham threw in smoothly.

Kaveh looked shell shocked as he turned to Tighnari, his face in complete disbelief. Alhaitham grabbed his wrist when Kaveh didn’t reply. He pursed his lips and kept his head turned away for another moment. Only his hand reached out to lock his pinkie with Alhaitham's.

Alhaitham lifted his hand to his cheek until he finally looked at him again. Then, he kissed him softly.

Tighnari slapped his palms on top of his thighs. “Alright! And that would be my cue to go! It was nice seeing you, but please don’t ever call me for something like that ever again. Bye!!”

“Oops,” Alhaitham said dishonestly. Kaveh slapped his shoulder.

“You did that on purpose just so I wouldn’t be able to ask him to play judge.”

“Did I now?”

“You most definitely did. I suppose I’ll have to give him your flowers some other day then. We owe him and like this, they can at least serve a purpose.”

Finally, Kaveh looked at Alhaitham again. Slowly, he lifted his hand and caressed his cheek. Alhaitham leaned into the touch and smiled.

#my writing #fanfiction #genshin impact #hanahaki disease #kaveh x alhaitham #kavetham #haikaveh #angst #miscommunication #hurt comfort

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ceresfromnationstates · 7 months ago

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Henry's condensed backstory (Fan canon)

Related post: Henry's ref sheet.

Born in the city of Carlsbad, New Mexico, Henry was born in late 1991 to a middle income family who had just moved from Provo 1 year after he was born. An only child, Henry was fortunate enough to have a loving family that rarely gets into fights even to this day.

From a young age, Henry was known to be a quiet kid and also a troublemaker, but despite the numerous bruises and disciplinary actions he got for his behavior, he continued doing what he did best, mainly out of the sheer fun and thrill he gets from it. Though Henry did have a bit of an unsavory reputation, he also formed a close circle of friends with his other schoolmates and neighborhood kids, something that he would strive to uphold for as long as he could.

By middle school, Henry started moving away from causing trouble and focus more on making friends, as well as learning to stand up to the tougher kids. He also developed a knack for picking up abandoned money that he found and would later use to buy things whenever he's short on pocket money, over time, he would go on to even picking pennies on sight. By now, his greed is now growing.

Henry now knows how to live on his own by the time he graduated to high school, meaning that he could do more things in private without his parents' prying eyes. He had moved on from taking just pennies on the ground to small-time theft, mostly small items from stores or somebody's unattended trinkets in one place or another, suffice it to say, he was never ashamed of it.

It was also at this time where he vividly remembers experiencing his first temporal phenomenon, what he describes as "the same day repeating over, and over, and over, and over again, but increasingly fast forwarded every time I wake up again". Though he'd considered the possibility of it being a very realistic dream, Henry adamantly believes that the event was a temporal phenomenon of sorts, though he could not explain how he acquired the number of supernatural abilities he would soon have.

By the time he went to college in Austin, Henry's habitual stealing had died down, as he was more occupied with his studies than he does with the former. At this time, he also met his two close friends Calvin and Chris, where they would continue being close friends even today.

A year after he finished college, Henry is now 19 and back in Arizona, now living on his own in Phoenix. Unfortunately his part-time job didn't pay him very well and he is short on cash, so he had to resort to stealing. This attempt failed, and he soon found himself in West Mesa Penitentiary, where he would somehow escape after 9 months spent in there.

Some time after his close brush with the law, Henry swears to never commit thievery again. This wouldn't last very long as just 1½ years later, he would steal the Tunisian Diamond and reap his ill-gotten rewards. Henry even has the audacity to call the heist "The single most greatest achievement in my life as a petty criminal.".

Eventually, he would be recruited by the Federal Government to assist Cpt. Hubert Galeforce in taking down the Toppat Clan's airship division from the inside. Afterwards, he was granted amnesty by the government for his service.

Life would go on normally for another 4 years before he was taken from his home to rural British Columbia to be brought in front of the warden of The Wall and imprisoned, where he also met with Ellie, where the both of then would go on to spark an all out riot in the complex and successfully flee from it in the process.

2 days after the inmate outbreak, The Wall is put under the control of the Canadian Forces and Royal Canadian Mounted Police, consisting of a detachment of the Canadian Army, Royal Canadian Navy as well as several elements of the RCMP. After this, chaos energy levels in southwestern British Columbia have dropped significantly.

Henry and Ellie, who by now had crossed into South America and have been closely followed by surviving Wall Group elements had intended to join the remnants of the Toppat Clan and give the Romanian Ruby back to them, but at the last second, defected to U.S. forces and took down the Toppats once and for all. Both Henry and Ellie are then officially pardoned by the Government and offered monetary compensation.

It is because of Henry's actions that the last remnants of the Toppat Clan are now scattered across Europe and North America, and Wall Group are now under investigation by Interpol.

It has been one year since. Life for Henry and Ellie have been relatively normal ever since their escapade in South America.

Or is it?

Masterpost | Henry's main page

#the henry stickmin collection #henry stickmin collection #thsc #henry stickmin #thsc henry #thsc henry stickmin #ceres hath spoken

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rjalker · 1 month ago

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Arthur Conan Doyle's short story The Beetle Hunter is just one disappointment after another.

i guess I got spoiled by Astounding Stories of Super-Science at least having fun.

Read it and see for yourself. There's at least five levels of disappointment following one after another.

Bonus points if you figure out each step of the disappointment lofl. I summarized it step by step to Walks and they got every one.

The Beetle-Hunter

A curious experience? said the Doctor. Yes, my friends, I have had one very curious experience. I never expect to have another, for it is against all doctrines of chances that two such events would befall any one man in a single lifetime. You may believe me or not, but the thing happened exactly as I tell it.

I had just become a medical man, but I had not started in practice, and I lived in rooms in Gower Street. The street has been renumbered since then, but it was in the only house which has a bow-window, upon the left-hand side as you go down from the Metropolitan Station. A widow named Murchison kept the house at that time, and she had three medical students and one engineer as lodgers. I occupied the top room, which was the cheapest, but cheap as it was it was more than I could afford. My small resources were dwindling away, and every week it became more necessary that I should find something to do. Yet I was very unwilling to go into general practice, for my tastes were all in the direction of science, and especially of zoology, towards which I had always a strong leaning. I had almost given the fight up and resigned myself to being a medical drudge for life, when the turning-point of my struggles came in a very extraordinary way.

One morning I had picked up the Standard and was glancing over its contents. There was a complete absence of news, and I was about to toss the paper down again, when my eyes were caught by an advertisement at the head of the personal column. It was worded in this way:

"Wanted for one or more days the services of a medical man. It is essential that he should be a man of strong physique, of steady nerves, and of a resolute nature. Must be an entomologist—coleopterist preferred. Apply, in person, at 77B, Brook Street. Application must be made before twelve o'clock today."

Now, I have already said that I was devoted to zoology. Of all branches of zoology, the study of insects was the most attractive to me, and of all insects beetles were the species with which I was most familiar. Butterfly collectors are numerous, but beetles are far more varied, and more accessible in these islands than are butterflies. It was this fact which had attracted my attention to them, and I had myself made a collection which numbered some hundred varieties. As to the other requisites of the advertisement, I knew that my nerves could be depended upon, and I had won the weight-throwing competition at the inter-hospital sports. Clearly, I was the very man for the vacancy. Within five minutes of my having read the advertisement I was in a cab and on my was to Brook Street.

As I drove, I kept turning the matter over in my head and trying to make a guess as to what sort of employment it could be which needed such curious qualifications. A strong physique, a resolute nature, a medical training, and a knowledge of beetles—what connection could there be between these various requisites? And then there was the disheartening fact that the situation was not a permanent one, but terminable from day to day, according to the terms of the advertisement. The more I pondered over it the more unintelligible did it become; but at the end of my meditations I always came back to the ground fact that, come what might, I had nothing to lose, that I was completely at the end of my resources, and that I was ready for any adventure, however desperate, which would put a few honest sovereigns into my pocket. The man fears to fail who has to pay for his failure, but there was no penalty which Fortune could exact from me. I was like the gambler with empty pockets, who is still allowed to try his luck with the others.

No. 77B, Brook Street, was one of those dingy and yet imposing houses, dun-coloured and flat-faced, with the intensely respectable and solid air which marks the Georgian builder. As I alighted from the cab, a young man came out of the door and walked swiftly down the street. In passing me, I noticed that he cast an inquisitive and somewhat malevolent glance at me, and I took the incident as a good omen, for his appearance was that of a rejected candidate, and if he resented my application it meant that the vacancy was not yet filled up. Full of hope, I ascended the broad steps and rapped with the heavy knocker.

A footman in powder and livery opened the door. Clearly I was in touch with the people of wealth and fashion.

"Yes, sir?" said the footman.

"I came in answer to——"

"Quite so, sir," said the footman. "Lord Linchmere will see you at once in the library."

Lord Linchmere! I had vaguely heard the name, but could not for the instant recall anything about him. Following the footman, I was shown into a large, book-lined room in which there was seated behind a writing-desk a small man with a pleasant, clean-shaven, mobile face, and long hair shot with grey, brushed back from his forehead. He looked me up and down with a very shrewd, penetrating glance, holding the card which the footman had given him in his right hand. Then he smiled pleasantly, and I felt that externally at any rate I possessed the qualifications which he desired.

"You have come in answer to my advertisement, Dr. Hamilton?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Do you fulfil the conditions which are there laid down?"

"I believe that I do."

"You are a powerful man, or so I should judge from your appearance.

"I think that I am fairly strong."

"And resolute?"

"I believe so."

"Have you ever known what it was to be exposed to imminent danger?"

"No, I don't know that I ever have."

"But you think you would be prompt and cool at such a time?"

"I hope so."

"Well, I believe that you would. I have the more confidence in you because you do not pretend to be certain as to what you would do in a position that was new to you. My impression is that, so far as personal qualities go, you are the very man of whom I am in search. That being settled, we may pass on to the next point."

"Which is?"

"To talk to me about beetles."

I looked across to see if he was joking, but, on the contrary, he was leaning eagerly forward across his desk, and there was an expression of something like anxiety in his eyes.

"I am afraid that you do not know about beetles," he cried.

"On the contrary, sir, it is the one scientific subject about which I feel that I really do know something."

"I am overjoyed to hear it. Please talk to me about beetles."

I talked. I do not profess to have said anything original upon the subject, but I gave a short sketch of the characteristics of the beetle, and ran over the more common species, with some allusions to the specimens in my own little collection and to the article upon "Burying Beetles" which I had contributed to the Journal of Entomological Science.

"What! not a collector?" cried Lord Linchmere. "You don't mean that you are yourself a collector?" His eyes danced with pleasure at the thought.

"You are certainly the very man in London for my purpose. I thought that among five millions of people there must be such a man, but the difficulty is to lay one's hands upon him. I have been extraordinarily fortunate in finding you."

He rang a gong upon the table, and the footman entered.

"Ask Lady Rossiter to have the goodness to step this way," said his lordship, and a few moments later the lady was ushered into the room. She was a small, middle-aged woman, very like Lord Linchmere in appearance, with the same quick, alert features and grey-black hair. The expression of anxiety, however, which I had observed upon his face was very much more marked upon hers. Some great grief seemed to have cast its shadow over her features. As Lord Linchmere presented me she turned her face full upon me, and I was shocked to observe a half-healed scar extending for two inches over her right eyebrow. It was partly concealed by plaster, but none the less I could see that it had been a serious wound and not long inflicted.

"Dr. Hamilton is the very man for our purpose, Evelyn," said Lord Linchmere. "He is actually a collector of beetles, and he has written articles upon the subject."

"Really!" said Lady Rossiter. "Then you must have heard of my husband. Everyone who knows anything about beetles must have heard of Sir Thomas Rossiter."

For the first time a thin little ray of light began to break into the obscure business. Here, at last, was a connection between these people and beetles. Sir Thomas Rossiter—he was the greatest authority upon the subject in the world. He had made it his lifelong study, and had written a most exhaustive work upon it. I hastened to assure her that I had read and appreciated it.

"Have you met my husband?" she asked.

"No, I have not."

"But you shall," said Lord Linchmere, with decision.

The lady was standing beside the desk, and she put her hand upon his shoulder. It was obvious to me as I saw their faces together that they were brother and sister.

"Are you really prepared for this, Charles? It is noble of you, but you fill me with fears." Her voice quavered with apprehension, and he appeared to me to be equally moved, though he was making strong efforts to conceal his agitation.

"Yes, yes, dear; it is all settled, it is all decided; in fact, there is no other possible way, that I can see."

"There is one obvious way."

"No, no, Evelyn, I shall never abandon you—never. It will come right—depend upon it; it will come right, and surely it looks like the interference of Providence that so perfect an instrument should be put into our hands."

My position was embarrassing, for I felt that for the instant they had forgotten my presence. But Lord Linchmere came back suddenly to me and to my engagement.

"The business for which I want you, Dr. Hamilton, is that you should put yourself absolutely at my disposal. I wish you to come for a short journey with me, to remain always at my side, and to promise to do without question whatever I may ask you, however unreasonable it may appear to you to be."

"That is a good deal to ask," said I.

"Unfortunately I cannot put it more plainly, for I do not myself know what turn matters may take. You may be sure, however, that you will not be asked to do anything which your conscience does not approve; and I promise you that, when all is over, you will be proud to have been concerned in so good a work."

"If it ends happily," said the lady.

"Exactly; if it ends happily," his lordship repeated.

"And terms?" I asked.

"Twenty pounds a day."

I was amazed at the sum, and must have showed my surprise upon my features.

"It is a rare combination of qualities, as must have struck you when you first read the advertisement," said Lord Linchmere; "such varied gifts may well command a high return, and I do not conceal from you that your duties might be arduous or even dangerous. Besides, it is possible that one or two days may bring the matter to an end."

"Please God!" sighed his sister.

"So now, Dr. Hamilton, may I rely upon your aid?"

"Most undoubtedly," said I. "You have only to tell me what my duties are."

"Your first duty will be to return to your home. You will pack up whatever you may need for a short visit to the country. We start together from Paddington Station at 3:40 this afternoon."

"Do we go far?"

"As far as Pangbourne. Meet me at the bookstall at 3:30. I shall have the tickets. Goodbye, Dr. Hamilton! And, by the way, there are two things which I should be very glad if you would bring with you, in case you have them. One is your case for collecting beetles, and the other is a stick, and the thicker and heavier the better."

You may imagine that I had plenty to think of from the time that I left Brook Street until I set out to meet Lord Linchmere at Paddington. The whole fantastic business kept arranging and rearranging itself in kaleidoscopic forms inside my brain, until I had thought out a dozen explanations, each of them more grotesquely improbable than the last. And yet I felt that the truth must be something grotesquely improbable also. At last I gave up all attempts at finding a solution, and contented myself with exactly carrying out the instructions which I had received. With a hand valise, specimen-case, and a loaded cane, I was waiting at the Paddington bookstall when Lord Linchmere arrived. He was an even smaller man than I had thought—frail and peaky, with a manner which was more nervous than it had been in the morning. He wore a long, thick travelling ulster, and I observed that he carried a heavy blackthorn cudgel in his hand.

"I have the tickets," said he, leading the way up the platform.

"This is our train. I have engaged a carriage, for I am particularly anxious to impress one or two things upon you while we travel down."

And yet all that he had to impress upon me might have been said in a sentence, for it was that I was to remember that I was there as a protection to himself, and that I was not on any consideration to leave him for an instant. This he repeated again and again as our journey drew to a close, with an insistence which showed that his nerves were thoroughly shaken.

"Yes," he said at last, in answer to my looks rather than to my words, "I AM nervous, Dr. Hamilton. I have always been a timid man, and my timidity depends upon my frail physical health. But my soul is firm, and I can bring myself up to face a danger which a less-nervous man might shrink from. What I am doing now is done from no compulsion, but entirely from a sense of duty, and yet it is, beyond doubt, a desperate risk. If things should go wrong, I will have some claims to the title of martyr."

This eternal reading of riddles was too much for me. I felt that I must put a term to it.

"I think it would very much better, sir, if you were to trust me entirely," said I. "It is impossible for me to act effectively, when I do not know what are the objects which we have in view, or even where we are going."

"Oh, as to where we are going, there need be no mystery about that," said he; "we are going to Delamere Court, the residence of Sir Thomas Rossiter, with whose work you are so conversant. As to the exact object of our visit, I do not know that at this stage of the proceedings anything would be gained, Dr. Hamilton, by taking you into my complete confidence. I may tell you that we are acting—I say 'we,' because my sister, Lady Rossiter, takes the same view as myself—with the one object of preventing anything in the nature of a family scandal. That being so, you can understand that I am loath to give any explanations which are not absolutely necessary. It would be a different matter, Dr. Hamilton, if I were asking your advice. As matters stand, it is only your active help which I need, and I will indicate to you from time to time how you can best give it."

There was nothing more to be said, and a poor man can put up with a good deal for twenty pounds a day, but I felt none the less that Lord Linchmere was acting rather scurvily towards me. He wished to convert me into a passive tool, like the blackthorn in his hand. With his sensitive disposition I could imagine, however, that scandal would be abhorrent to him, and I realized that he would not take me into his confidence until no other course was open to him. I must trust to my own eyes and ears to solve the mystery, but I had every confidence that I should not trust to them in vain.

Delamere Court lies a good five miles from Pangbourne Station, and we drove for that distance in an open fly. Lord Linchmere sat in deep thought during the time, and he never opened his mouth until we were close to our destination. When he did speak it was to give me a piece of information which surprised me.

"Perhaps you are not aware," said he, "that I am a medical man like yourself?"

"No, sir, I did not know it."

"Yes, I qualified in my younger days, when there were several lives between me and the peerage. I have not had occasion to practise, but I have found it a useful education, all the same. I never regretted the years which I devoted to medical study. These are the gates of Delamere Court."

We had come to two high pillars crowned with heraldic monsters which flanked the opening of a winding avenue. Over the laurel bushes and rhododendrons, I could see a long, many-gabled mansion, girdled with ivy, and toned to the warm, cheery, mellow glow of old brick-work. My eyes were still fixed in admiration upon this delightful house when my companion plucked nervously at my sleeve.

"Here's Sir Thomas," he whispered. "Please talk beetle all you can."

A tall, thin figure, curiously angular and bony, had emerged through a gap in the hedge of laurels. In his hand he held a spud, and he wore gauntleted gardener's gloves. A broad-brimmed, grey hat cast his face into shadow, but it struck me as exceedingly austere, with an ill-nourished beard and harsh, irregular features. The fly pulled up and Lord Linchmere sprang out.

"My dear Thomas, how are you?" said he, heartily.

But the heartiness was by no means reciprocal. The owner of the grounds glared at me over his brother-in-law's shoulder, and I caught broken scraps of sentences—"well-known wishes ... hatred of strangers ... unjustifiable intrusion ... perfectly inexcusable." Then there was a muttered explanation, and the two of them came over together to the side of the fly.

"Let me present you to Sir Thomas Rossiter, Dr. Hamilton," said Lord Linchmere. "You will find that you have a strong community of tastes."

I bowed. Sir Thomas stood very stiffly, looking at me severely from under the broad brim of his hat.

"Lord Linchmere tells me that you know something about beetles," said he. "What do you know about beetles?"

"I know what I have learned from your work upon the coleoptera, Sir Thomas," I answered.

"Give me the names of the better-known species of the British scarabaei," said he.

I had not expected an examination, but fortunately I was ready for one. My answers seemed to please him, for his stern features relaxed.

"You appear to have read my book with some profit, sir," said he. "It is a rare thing for me to meet anyone who takes an intelligent interest in such matters. People can find time for such trivialities as sport or society, and yet the beetles are overlooked. I can assure you that the greater part of the idiots in this part of the country are unaware that I have ever written a book at all—I, the first man who ever described the true function of the elytra. I am glad to see you, sir, and I have no doubt that I can show you some specimens which will interest you." He stepped into the fly and drove up with us to the house, expounding to me as we went some recent researches which he had made into the anatomy of the lady-bird.

I have said that Sir Thomas Rossiter wore a large hat drawn down over his brows. As he entered the hall he uncovered himself, and I was at once aware of a singular characteristic which the hat had concealed. His forehead, which was naturally high, and higher still on account of receding hair, was in a continual state of movement. Some nervous weakness kept the muscles in a constant spasm, which sometimes produced a mere twitching and sometimes a curious rotary movement unlike anything which I had ever seen before. It was strikingly visible as he turned towards us after entering the study, and seemed the more singular from the contrast with the hard, steady, grey eyes which looked out from underneath those palpitating brows.

"I am sorry," said he, "that Lady Rossiter is not here to help me to welcome you. By the way, Charles, did Evelyn say anything about the date of her return?"

"She wished to stay in town for a few more days," said Lord Linchmere. "You know how ladies' social duties accumulate if they have been for some time in the country. My sister has many old friends in London at present."

"Well, she is her own mistress, and I should not wish to alter her plans, but I shall be glad when I see her again. It is very lonely here without her company."

"I was afraid that you might find it so, and that was partly why I ran down. My young friend, Dr. Hamilton, is so much interested in the subject which you have made your own, that I thought you would not mind his accompanying me."

"I lead a retired life, Dr. Hamilton, and my aversion to strangers grows upon me," said our host. "I have sometimes thought that my nerves are not so good as they were. My travels in search of beetles in my younger days took me into many malarious and unhealthy places. But a brother coleopterist like yourself is always a welcome guest, and I shall be delighted if you will look over my collection, which I think that I may without exaggeration describe as the best in Europe."

And so no doubt it was. He had a huge, oaken cabinet arranged in shallow drawers, and here, neatly ticketed and classified, were beetles from every corner of the earth, black, brown, blue, green, and mottled. Every now and then as he swept his hand over the lines and lines of impaled insects he would catch up some rare specimen, and, handling it with as much delicacy and reverence as if it were a precious relic, he would hold forth upon its peculiarities and the circumstances under which it came into his possession. It was evidently an unusual thing for him to meet with a sympathetic listener, and he talked and talked until the spring evening had deepened into night, and the gong announced that it was time to dress for dinner. All the time Lord Linchmere said nothing, but he stood at his brother-in-law's elbow, and I caught him continually shooting curious little, questioning glances into his face. And his own features expressed some strong emotion, apprehension, sympathy, expectation: I seemed to read them all. I was sure that Lord Linchmere was fearing something and awaiting something, but what that something might be I could not imagine.

The evening passed quietly but pleasantly, and I should have been entirely at my ease if it had not been for that continual sense of tension upon the part of Lord Linchmere. As to our host, I found that he improved upon acquaintance. He spoke constantly with affection of his absent wife, and also of his little son, who had recently been sent to school. The house, he said, was not the same without them. If it were not for his scientific studies, he did not know how he could get through the days. After dinner we smoked for some time in the billiard-room, and finally went early to bed.

And then it was that, for the first time, the suspicion that Lord Linchmere was a lunatic crossed my mind. He followed me into my bedroom, when our host had retired.

"Doctor," said he, speaking in a low, hurried voice, "you must come with me. You must spend the night in my bedroom."

"What do you mean?"

"I prefer not to explain. But this is part of your duties. My room is close by, and you can return to your own before the servant calls you in the morning."

"But why?" I asked.

"Because I am nervous of being alone," said he. "That's the reason, since you must have a reason."

It seemed rank lunacy, but the argument of those twenty pounds would overcome many objections. I followed him to his room.

"Well," said I, "there's only room for one in that bed."

"Only one shall occupy it," said he.

"And the other?"

"Must remain on watch."

"Why?" said I. "One would think you expected to be attacked."

"Perhaps I do."

"In that case, why not lock your door?"

"Perhaps I WANT to be attacked."

It looked more and more like lunacy. However, there was nothing for it but to submit. I shrugged my shoulders and sat down in the arm-chair beside the empty fireplace.

"I am to remain on watch, then?" said I, ruefully.

"We will divide the night. If you will watch until two, I will watch the remainder."

"Very good."

"Call me at two o'clock, then."

"I will do so."

"Keep your ears open, and if you hear any sounds wake me instantly—instantly, you hear?"

"You can rely upon it." I tried to look as solemn as he did.

"And for God's sake don't go to sleep," said he, and so, taking off only his coat, he threw the coverlet over him and settled down for the night.

It was a melancholy vigil, and made more so by my own sense of its folly. Supposing that by any chance Lord Linchmere had cause to suspect that he was subject to danger in the house of Sir Thomas Rossiter, why on earth could he not lock his door and so protect himself? His own answer that he might wish to be attacked was absurd. Why should he possibly wish to be attacked? And who would wish to attack him? Clearly, Lord Linchmere was suffering from some singular delusion, and the result was that on an imbecile pretext I was to be deprived of my night's rest. Still, however absurd, I was determined to carry out his injunctions to the letter as long as I was in his employment. I sat, therefore, beside the empty fireplace, and listened to a sonorous chiming clock somewhere down the passage which gurgled and struck every quarter of an hour. It was an endless vigil. Save for that single clock, an absolute silence reigned throughout the great house. A small lamp stood on the table at my elbow, throwing a circle of light round my chair, but leaving the corners of the room draped in shadow. On the bed Lord Linchmere was breathing peacefully. I envied him his quiet sleep, and again and again my own eyelids drooped, but every time my sense of duty came to my help, and I sat up, rubbing my eyes and pinching myself with a determination to see my irrational watch to an end.

And I did so. From down the passage came the chimes of two o'clock, and I laid my hand upon the shoulder of the sleeper. Instantly he was sitting up, with an expression of the keenest interest upon his face.

"You have heard something?"

"No, sir. It is two o'clock."

"Very good. I will watch. You can go to sleep."

I lay down under the coverlet as he had done and was soon unconscious. My last recollection was of that circle of lamplight, and of the small, hunched-up figure and strained, anxious face of Lord Linchmere in the centre of it.

How long I slept I do not know; but I was suddenly aroused by a sharp tug at my sleeve. The room was in darkness, but a hot smell of oil told me that the lamp had only that instant been extinguished.

"Quick! Quick!" said Lord Linchmere's voice in my ear.

I sprang out of bed, he still dragging at my arm.

"Over here!" he whispered, and pulled me into a corner of the room. "Hush! Listen!"

In the silence of the night I could distinctly hear that someone was coming down the corridor. It was a stealthy step, faint and intermittent, as of a man who paused cautiously after every stride. Sometimes for half a minute there was no sound, and then came the shuffle and creak which told of a fresh advance. My companion was trembling with excitement. His hand, which still held my sleeve, twitched like a branch in the wind.

"What is it?" I whispered.

"It's he!"

"Sir Thomas?"

"Yes."

"What does he want?"

"Hush! Do nothing until I tell you."

I was conscious now that someone was trying the door. There was the faintest little rattle from the handle, and then I dimly saw a thin slit of subdued light. There was a lamp burning somewhere far down the passage, and it just sufficed to make the outside visible from the darkness of our room. The greyish slit grew broader and broader, very gradually, very gently, and then outlined against it I saw the dark figure of a man. He was squat and crouching, with the silhouette of a bulky and misshapen dwarf. Slowly the door swung open with this ominous shape framed in the centre of it. And then, in an instant, the crouching figure shot up, there was a tiger spring across the room and thud, thud, thud, came three tremendous blows from some heavy object upon the bed.

I was so paralysed with amazement that I stood motionless and staring until I was aroused by a yell for help from my companion. The open door shed enough light for me to see the outline of things, and there was little Lord Linchmere with his arms round the neck of his brother-in-law, holding bravely on to him like a game bull-terrier with its teeth into a gaunt deerhound. The tall, bony man dashed himself about, writhing round and round to get a grip upon his assailant; but the other, clutching on from behind, still kept his hold, though his shrill, frightened cries showed how unequal he felt the contest to be. I sprang to the rescue, and the two of us managed to throw Sir Thomas to the ground, though he made his teeth meet in my shoulder. With all my youth and weight and strength, it was a desperate struggle before we could master his frenzied struggles; but at last we secured his arms with the waist-cord of the dressing-gown which he was wearing. I was holding his legs while Lord Linchmere was endeavouring to relight the lamp, when there came the pattering of many feet in the passage, and the butler and two footmen, who had been alarmed by the cries, rushed into the room. With their aid we had no further difficulty in securing our prisoner, who lay foaming and glaring upon the ground. One glance at his face was enough to prove that he was a dangerous maniac, while the short, heavy hammer which lay beside the bed showed how murderous had been his intentions.

"Do not use any violence!" said Lord Linchmere, as we raised the struggling man to his feet. "He will have a period of stupor after this excitement. I believe that it is coming on already." As he spoke the convulsions became less violent, and the madman's head fell forward upon his breast, as if he were overcome by sleep. We led him down the passage and stretched him upon his own bed, where he lay unconscious, breathing heavily.

"Two of you will watch him," said Lord Linchmere. "And now, Dr. Hamilton, if you will return with me to my room, I will give you the explanation which my horror of scandal has perhaps caused me to delay too long. Come what may, you will never have cause to regret your share in this night's work.

"The case may be made clear in a very few words," he continued, when we were alone. "My poor brother-in-law is one of the best fellows upon earth, a loving husband and an estimable father, but he comes from a stock which is deeply tainted with insanity. He has more than once had homicidal outbreaks, which are the more painful because his inclination is always to attack the very person to whom he is most attached. His son was sent away to school to avoid this danger, and then came an attempt upon my sister, his wife, from which she escaped with injuries that you may have observed when you met her in London. You understand that he knows nothing of the matter when he is in his sound senses, and would ridicule the suggestion that he could under any circumstances injure those whom he loves so dearly. It is often, as you know, a characteristic of such maladies that it is absolutely impossible to convince the man who suffers from them of their existence.

"Our great object was, of course, to get him under restraint before he could stain his hands with blood, but the matter was full of difficulty. He is a recluse in his habits, and would not see any medical man. Besides, it was necessary for our purpose that the medical man should convince himself of his insanity; and he is sane as you or I, save on these very rare occasions. But, fortunately, before he has these attacks he always shows certain premonitory symptoms, which are providential danger-signals, warning us to be upon our guard. The chief of these is that nervous contortion of the forehead which you must have observed. This is a phenomenon which always appears from three to four days before his attacks of frenzy. The moment it showed itself his wife came into town on some pretext, and took refuge in my house in Brook Street.

"It remained for me to convince a medical man of Sir Thomas's insanity, without which it was impossible to put him where he could do no harm. The first problem was how to get a medical man into his house. I bethought me of his interest in beetles, and his love for anyone who shared his tastes. I advertised, therefore, and was fortunate enough to find in you the very man I wanted. A stout companion was necessary, for I knew that the lunacy could only be proved by a murderous assault, and I had every reason to believe that that assault would be made upon myself, since he had the warmest regard for me in his moments of sanity. I think your intelligence will supply all the rest. I did not know that the attack would come by night, but I thought it very probable, for the crises of such cases usually do occur in the early hours of the morning. I am a very nervous man myself, but I saw no other way in which I could remove this terrible danger from my sister's life. I need not ask you whether you are willing to sign the lunacy papers."

"Undoubtedly. But TWO signatures are necessary."

"You forget that I am myself a holder of a medical degree. I have the papers on a side-table here, so if you will be good enough to sign them now, we can have the patient removed in the morning."

So that was my visit to Sir Thomas Rossiter, the famous beetle-hunter, and that was also my first step upon the ladder of success, for Lady Rossiter and Lord Linchmere have proved to be staunch friends, and they have never forgotten my association with them in the time of their need. Sir Thomas is out and said to be cured, but I still think that if I spent another night at Delamere Court, I should be inclined to lock my door upon the inside.

#Public Domain #Ableism #The Beetle-Hunter #The Beetle Hunter #Arthur Conan Doyle

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