#hollow tree stump

[vtatters]

[stoportotouch]

i love to call hodgson a little creature or animle of some form.

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

basement twink/attic twink is swiftly becoming a set of categories that i categorize all twinks by in the back of my mind but i fear there will be a day when i think a twink was born to be kept in a third secret location

[good--merits-accumulated]

OK, SEVERELY rambly post incoming but - Anderperry Stardust (2007)/ The Little White Horse AU, anyone?

Rundown: I think many of us are familiar with Stardust, originally a Neil Gaiman book but also a great film, starring Claire Danes as a falling star and That Guy Who Plays Daredevil as the lad who promises to bring her to the girl he's infatuated with. The Little White Horse is, to the best of my knowledge, more unknown, but equally very good (for sentimental reasons, I think of it much more highly than Stardust). Published in 1946 by Elizabeth Goudge, it tells the story of thirteen-year-old orphan Maria Merryweather, who moves to her cousin Sir Benjamin's Moonacre Manor in the West Country, where she finds a) a thriving cosy community and a long family history, b) the little white horse of the title, c) a longstanding family feud cutting off Moonacre from the sea, d) her imaginary best friend Robin, real and in the flesh, and e) some of the most deliciously-described food that has ever been or will be. It's a great book even past the rose-tinted glasses of my childhood. Go read it. (The one (1) marring is that you can't find a bloody edition that doesn't have a JK Terfling quote pasted onto the cover, because apparently it was one of her favourite books, but fuck OFF, I'm reclaiming it now. Thou shalt not keep the cosy low fantasy from me.)

Anyway even though I mention Stardust this isn't really part of the AU I have in my mind, except for the bit with the Star, because Todd as a main character who thinks he's a very forgettable bland boy-in-the-corner until he finds out he's a star is a great thought to me. Particulars on /how/ he's a star to be fleshed out later! (I only thought of this AU about two hours ago, lol.)

In my mind this is how it goes - nebulously Olden Times setting (TLWH is set in 1842, so perhaps then). Todd is around seventeen/eighteen and Geoff has just graduated from university, and gone off around Europe, accompanied by their parents. Months go by. Something happens - he's never given the liberty of knowing, but Geoff and their parents stay in Europe, and the townhouse in London is sold, and Todd is packed off to stay at a distant relative's - Keating, as it turns out. It's a blessing in disguise, because Todd is finally away from his family for the first time in his life and around people that appreciate him. He begins to bloom under this new care - but there are strange family secrets only now being revealed to him, and dark forces beyond the valley which threaten to disrupt the haven he's found...

The rest is very cosy fantasy, featuring Mr Perry as the local uptight vicar locking horns with Keating at every opportunity, Neil as his withdrawn but friendly son just longing for a rebellion, and more! (Read: Charlie is here and he is Outrageous as usual. Read also: Pitts as a sailor because I think he'd like it.) Right now I'm thinking of adding an equivalent of Monsieur Cocq de Noir for a villain (Mr Perry is NOT the villain), and Cameron can play a part there so I can give him a good redeeming! Here are a couple of extracts from TLWH to show the kind of mood/tone we're working with:

Thematically, I REALLY like the idea of Todd as a star because it allows me to work in a very fun trope, of "not of the rose but near the rose" - when a character perhaps is shy and a little quiet and reclusive, but inspires other people around them to brilliance and greatness. (Honestly I do think this kind of goes in with the film, where it's not just Keating's teaching but Todd's reaction to it and his presence that galvanise Neil to continue.) This ties in really well if Todd's a star and adds to the overall self-confidence journey - plus I was really thinking about the sun/moon motifs! They're very prominent in TLWH (Maria is a "moon" Merryweather and Robin is a very sunny boy), and I really want to implement them here with slight twists. I think of Todd as a sunny moon; yes he's warm and caring and cheerful but once you go a little closer it's more of a luminosity rather than a blaze, there's a coolness and quietness to him I like. You know, a quiet character doesn't always have to be quiet because there's something "wrong" with them, sometimes they're just like that. For Neil it's the opposite, he's a moony sun; under the thumb of his father he's polite and decorous and demure but somewhere under all of that there's a very loud and booming laugh and a healthy sort of ruddiness. I don't know, I just like sun/moon motifs!!!!!!!!!!

(On a more personal note: this AU, which I already love very much despite not having known very long, would be above all a careful love letter to the West Country. It's been lovely living around here almost all my life and by this time in September I'll be hopefully up very far north at uni, so I'm pre-emptively kind of :') about it. Mutuals who are at uni/college how on earth did you cope?)

[pepprs]

acnl is a superior game to acnh in almost every way except the graphics. it’s actually making me mad

[emleelion]

These big bois are gonna be on sale soon! Very limited run of only 4 and the only large deadpool ducks I've ever made! Trying to save up money for my working holiday to australia next month!

[haikuckuck]

Hohler Baumstumpf,wird leider auch als Müllbehälter missbraucht!

[chrisstumpgrinding]

Is it better to grind or remove a stump?

[alcnfr]

This stump has grown a tail...

[hedgehog-moss]

This particular patch of woods between two cow pastures is my favourite place to go when it's cold, because there's a little stream in there that meanders in a very whimsical way, dividing itself into spiderwebs of rivulets then becoming one again, winding around every other tree, it's delightful.

The stream is smaller but still here in summer, but I like it best in winter because it sounds so delicate! In some places it runs under a thin layer of ice with a light glassy sound; in others there are branches across the stream with dozens of little ice drops hanging underneath and making a tiny tinkling noise.

This patch of woods can be hard to find though, as it's tucked between two very large pastures that are completely featureless in winter. But Pandolf knows what we're looking for now, and since he's not distracted by cows in this season, he led us right to it.

Congratulations Pandolf! You are useful !

Although it's not a forest, it's easy to get lost here in winter when all my landmarks have disappeared, so I always follow the stream. One of the most recognisable spots is a hollow tree stump that looks very old and gnarled and full of character in summer, but sometimes in winter it almost entirely disappears and looks like a massive soft marshmallow (until you stumble upon it) (it hurts)

But as long as we don't lose the stream, we'll find our way back.

So of course I quickly got distracted and lost the stream. First because I found deer footprints, and they looked so much like Pampe's footprints I had to examine them and then look around suspiciously. (She wasn't following us. It was a deer) (I'm almost sure)

Second, because the woods kept stealing my hat.

Third, because Pandolf was being recklessly ambitious.

After walking in circles for a while, instead of the stream I found a barricade of shrubs forbidding access to a mysterious meadow. (Mysterious because I have never seen this place in summer. There are no charming small meadows here! It's pasture / tangled woods / pasture!)

I did not have time to inspect yet another fae meadow (and didn't feel very welcome here), so off we went again in search of the stream which is our only reliable landmark.

Then Pandolf found a way out all by himself:

He was very proud to show me the cow pasture, because in his naive dog logic he assumed I was still looking for the stream in order to follow it and leave the woods. In my better human logic, I was now looking for the stream because streams have no business disappearing like that and I was taking it personally.

How did we lose the stream, Pan? It's supposed to be everywhere!

What was annoying was that sometimes I could hear soft stream sounds, but saw nothing...

It took me a embarrassingly long time to figure out that the stream was, in fact, everywhere.

I'd never seen the stream frozen, let alone frozen + covered with snow! I suppose it was only frozen here and not near the pastures because there's less sun in the middle of the woods and the stream is wider and runs more slowly. It was a bit fun how every time we brushed aside some snow or found a snowless spot, we discovered a piece of the missing stream right underneath.

... well, at first it was fun but then it got a little bit worrying, because the ice was quite thin and cracked easily if I knocked on it politely, so the only thing keeping me from falling knee-deep in icy water with every step I took was the layer of compacted snow. Which I didn't trust. In places where I remembered the stream being wider (so most of the snow in these areas was potentially traitorous) I tried to walk very lightly and carefully, as if it's possible to tiptoe lightly with snow boots.

Pandolf just walked normally, completely unfussed about the fact that he was (literally) on thin ice.

I think he could tell I was nervous but didn't know why. He looked pretty confused whenever he turned around and saw me walking like an Andalusian horse over the same spots that he'd just trampled happily.

I'm fairly sure he knew all along that the stream was under our feet. I wish he'd told me! But maybe he could tell the ice wasn't cracking under his weight and he assumed I too knew what I was doing.

We made it out and I only stepped right through the snow and ice and into the horribly icy water once! One soggy boot was less bad than the fate I expected when I realised I was standing in the middle of this patch of woods surrounded by a pretend-snowy ground that was actually just water.

Then I reached my car and found that I could not open any door because they were frozen shut. This had also never happened to me in the middle of the day when I parked in the sun and I felt persecuted. Thankfully I was not too far from a farm; I told Pandolf to wait for me in the nearby pasture (in case of farm dogs; I didn't have his leash) (it was in the car, keeping warm next to my Thermos of tea) and I went to knock on the door and humbly ask to borrow some hot water. The woman who answered the door noticed my very wet boot and I think she initially assumed I wanted hot water because my foot was frozen and I'd already lost three toes, but I reassured her that it was only my car that needed unfreezing.

When I returned to my car with the bottle of hot water, I found Pandolf waiting for me in the pasture as instructed, but he didn't notice I was back until I'd almost reached the road because he was busy doing what he does best. (And it's not crawling under trunks.)

[chocsra]

idk abt others but yes i do eat up every single one of ur hs au bc it's so silly and yes i am looking at you with a chuuya plushie in my hand to ask for a dazai x reader hs au fanfic

✧ "YOU ARE THE CITY OF MY HEART"

☆ synopsis ↺: skipping class with your classmate, dazai yet again. but this time, you explore the ocean of your feelings together.

☆ content ↺: HIGHSCHOOL AU 15ZAI, musical prodigy! dazai, photographer! dazai, introvert! dazai, slightly ooc, fluff

☆ NOW PLAYING ↺: UNDERSTAND — keshi

☆ w/c ↺: 2k

you don't think you have ever lived without noise,

ever since you were a kid, you were talked your ear off by your parents, lectured by several adults, and screamed plentifully with friends. when there was silence, there was music to mask it. good or bad noise, it existed, survived, and was a huge part of your life.

but you,

Dazai Osamu, are probably the quietest person you've ever known.

the only sound you could associate with him was the shutter of a camera taking a picture—the same sound you've been continually hearing.

It was a regular school day, both dressed in full uniform, baking under the bright rays of the morning sun. There wasn't anything particularly wrong about this day. you could pick off the reddening leaves from bark-ridden tree branches and soak in the imprint of tree stumps, looking ever so similar to that of a fingerprint. it was a pretty autumn day; you just so happened to get to see that. you think, taking a withering leaf into the palm of your hand.

shutter.

"osamu, stop taking photos of me." —you chide, gently swatting the pointed camera out of view. the brunette in front of you, currently crouching, laughs boyishly as he removes his face pressed against the camera, gaze now overseeing the autumn sight before him. "sorry," dazai whispers, tinkering with a few buttons to review the photos he took. "you don't have to skip class with me, y'know." he murmurs, eyes glued to his camera.

he was a photographer, a pretty one at that. quiet and mysterious, you were rather surprised to learn that a boy reads fine literature and other classical means. sometimes, he picked up a violin or combined delicate fingers to gracefully waltz with a grand piano. his most prized possession was a camera, freezing the most beautiful of the intricacies of nature and people. but who was he? the boy who read books instead of taking notes in lectures, wavy chocolate brown hair that sun rays adored to find a home in, and a tall and slim build fitted in a school uniform and bandages. to capture the slope of his cheek, the deep hazel in hollow irises, and his olive skin. he was Dazai Osamu, a walking mystery.

so, you'd like to know where you stood with him in terms of relationship and if he even likes you at all. skipping class together, sneaking in your window at night, pretending to hang out with friends if it meant seeing him—it didn’t feel like something close friends did, like he was a secret you wanted to keep for yourself. but you couldn’t tell if that greed was reciprocated, if he was bored, or even considered you a close friend, a best friend. but instead of worrying too much, you only watch how his fingers work with a bulky camera, capturing nature's highs and lows.

“i know,” you twiddle with your fingers, grumbling, “class is boring anyway.” the brunette furrows his brows at the photos, brushing your excuse off, “this is shit. i think i’ve taken enough photos around the school.” he groans softly; you could practically hear his creative mind burning in the process. “did you delete the picture of me?” you question, standing over the lanky boy’s crouched form. “no, that one is good. i mean, the actual background, it's all repetitive.”

you tap a finger on your chim, “ahh,” you hum, pretending to understand his perspective. “winter should be here already.” the teenager grumbles under his breath before letting go of the camera to let it hang off his neck. you pace around slowly, feeling the surface of leaves crushing under your heels. “I mean, you don’t have to stay in school if you’re already skipping class.” you mutter, watching as a boyish grin lights up on his face. “you’re right, [y/n]! let’s go!”

a cold hand wraps his fingers around yours before dragging you to the nearest exit—"dazai!” you whine as the brunette drags you, “it’s cooooolllddddd!” you complain, your scarf nearly falling off as you run and run. hand in hand. this rather rushing feeling brings you a taste of memories you barely remember you had.

no one understood Dazai Osamu,

because he was a prodigy, he was something. something big, something great, something that made other geniuses seethe in envy. the boy had extraordinary intellect but a weak mind. no, dazai wasn't weak. he was just always unwell to a certain degree, and to most, it didn't take much to figure out—wearing long sleeves in summer, loving bandages for the comforting feelings even if he didn't need them, and reading books guiding the suicidal. dazai never hid it—that he was unwell, almost like a cry for help.

but for the genius that he was, nobody understood that.

but you did, in seventh grade. you were sniffling, pacing in remnants of snow as tears blurred your vision. though in your hazy field of sight, you outline the figure of one of your classmates approaching you, his tall frame catching the snowflakes from hitting your face. slowly, a boyish voice calls out.

"...are you okay?"

it was dazai, the stone-faced boy and talented prodigy. he wore a black trenchcoat, a little too big for his figure, and covered one of his chocolate brown eyes with bandages. you shook your head, a throbbing pain added from the tinge of snowflakes collecting in your hair. his stoic gaze never left you, standing there in the middle of a snowstorm, crying. the boy himself couldn't muster a feasible reason for walking outside in a snowstorm at this hour, so out of courtesy and a slight tinge of nervousness, he whispered, "let's go for a walk."

suddenly, nimble fingers reach out to grab yours; your fingers are used to originally wipe snot and cover your face. but dazai had no reaction to anything gross like that—like snot and tears. instead, he took shaky fingers into the cold ones of his own, pulling you gently along the sidewalk. you could barely make out his face or your feelings at the moment, only focused on his broad shoulders covered by that raven trench coat, soaking up snowflakes and the well of your tears.

from there, you walked and walked. hand in hand. soon running together with no particular destination—only feeling your body starting to warm up, sore feet clashing against snow, and his hand that never let go of yours.

Dazai Osamu never knew why you were crying, nor did you know what ever went through his head that day.

but from that moment forward,

you understood him.

soon, you were led by that same hand past pretty autumn leaves and into a foresty meadow, closed off from the rest of the world. several forms of wildlife scrapped by, followed by a murky pond under the sun's wake, surrounded by trees of reds and oranges. it perfectly provided what the school's campus couldn't—a sense of divergence reeling in the soft convolutions of your brain. "pretty, isn't it?"—the brunette chimes, panting from the long distance you two ran. "why'd you do that?" you grumble, rubbing your abdomen from an incoming sharp pain, "don't you have asthma?"

he immediately backtracks, shooting you an unamused glare, "that's.. enough." dazai huffs, before removing the strapped camera around his neck, "here, maybe you can take better pictures than i can." the boy chuckles shyly, a very drastic verbal response than his usual arrogance.

"hmm," a gentle hum slips past your lips, squinting one of your eyes in order to press the machine against your face. "i can try." after scouting the area with his camera for a few seconds, you began to snap a few shots at the darkening lake, carrying several leaves in its wake.

and as you paid full attention to the awaiting winter, dazai's gaze stayed on you, his autumn. his gaze softened and his slightly chapped lips parted in a momentary surprise, taking you in with every breath he took. Dazai himself loved photography; he loved capturing moments that would soon get lost in time. the brunette, with a talent for many things, found solace in photos. he loved to take photos of resting cats, dark sceneries you'd only find in an alleyway of a fantasy novel, and candid pictures of random couples on dates. dazai loved taking photos but detested that he didn't have a camera on hand at the moment—for he wanted to freeze this divine sight of you in the confines of his brain. your face, fingers, the dip and curve of every facial feature, and how the lighting kisses your skin and hair.

"how's it like? being a total genius?"

you were rather familiar with all your classmates, just curiously getting to know the mysterious musical prodigy, dazai osamu. it was a work period, and everyone in class already begun to slack off, especially since there was a supply.

and you knew that the lanky boy was eerily quiet when the school's athletic hotshot, Chuuya Nakahara, wasn't around. so, asking stupid questions won't exactly result in stupid answers, or so you thought.

"why? wanna be like me?" — he smiles teasingly, tilting his sharp jaw in your direction. "don't think someone who cries in the snow can do it, sorry." you freeze up and scoff, slightly embarrassed from the former interaction you had with him. "dick." a peaceful but awkward silence fills the air between both of you before the boy clears his throat awkwardly. "But i'd be willing to talk about it if you let me bother you at lunch.?"

the question itself caught you off guard. looking around at the chattering students, "i—" the brunette backtracked, hiding his face slightly with gauzed fingers. "Actually!—I am going to bother you. you're friends with chuuya, aren't you?" you shrug, eyes fluttering to the ground, "..i guess so, but i don't eat with him or his friends."

A breathless chuckle slips past the prodigy's lips before covering his mouth softly, completely ignoring you, "alright then, see you anyway, crybaby."

he hates himself for not knowing what to do with you, but he loved you more to let hate consume him, like usual. dazai wanted you; he didn't know what yearning was until he saw pieces of you in sunsets, rain and snow. he's felt destiny with his childhood friend, chuuya nakahara. but he's never felt something so desiring, pining — like he wanted to be with you every day. and maybe one of those days he'll feel you without the stupid gauze wrapped around his fingers. maybe one day he can hold your hand without the excuse of dragging you somewhere new. maybe one day, dazai will figure out how to ask you to be his, how to love you, because he's sure you're the one he wants to love.

"ahh, wait.."

you cock a brow at his shocked face, grabbing onto your sleeve as if the prodigy were reaching for the stars.

"I wish I were a painter, instead." the boy pouts, holding your sleeve childishly, pulling a chuckle from your throat, "why is that, huh?"

dazai's eyes, ever so empty and unfilled, now gleam, pretty and gentle. Softly reaching out to part a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear, gazing up at you feverishly. "usually, I'm so prideful about these things, photography.."

The prodigy clears his throat, his fingers threading through soft strands of hair tucked behind your ear. "But your eyes, they are really pretty." Your lips part bashfully surprised, overcoming your ability to move.

The boy continues as if his mouth was switched on autopilot: " So I wish I could paint them instead. I guess just looking works, too, though."

He smiles cheekily.

all you ever knew was noise,

but you, Dazai Osamu, had that kind of silence to keep you awake at night. Whether that'd be holding hands in a snowstorm, or the few moments he'd stare into your eyes.

Little did you know, that was the moment he fell in love. Or rather, the time it took him to realise you don't fall.

That love has grown before you can even realise it.

✧ chocsra™

[cireks]

A single short whoop breaks the quiet of the night, melodic but hollow, it reminds you of an old bronze bell somehow. A cirek stands on a tree stump in the clearing, surveying its surroundings.

[miupow]

CRAVE ⛦ c.yj + c.bg

・:〃➜ dont go into the woods.

pairing. werewolf!choi yeonjun x fem!reader xwerewolf! choi beomgyu words. 1.9k NSFW, minors DNI! potentially dark/triggering content warning. warnings: dubcon, implied/referenced kidnapping, predator/prey elements, free use, toxic!txt, referenced poly!txt (no mxm), hard dom!beomgyu, soft dom!yeonjun, ruts/mating cycles, rough sex, knotting mention, deepthroat/throatfucking, degredation kink, praise kink, breeding kink, dacryphilia, spitroasting

"never go into the woods," they said, but you were never one to listen-- stupid, sheltered village girl thinking to herself how bad could it possibly be as you ventured through the undergrowth, more worried about picking flowers and berries than her safety... you should have listened.

getting lost was easier than you had thought, too giddy for exploring to mark out a path home. you ran, panicked, alone amongst the trees until the sun went down, growing more and more distressed, more and more utterly lost as your visibility dwindled— twigs snapped, leaves rustled behind you, the oppressive feeling of eyes on your back followed you wherever you sprinted and stumbled… you were being hunted.

they descended upon you when you were at your weakest, stumbled and fell over a tree stump, hit your head on a rock, laid unconscious in the grass; a pack of wolves disguised as men. they took you to their den, nursed your wounds, calmed your nerves with saccharine smiles that were just a little too sharp in the teeth... you grew to trust them, care for them, feel indebted to them. you didn't understand until you had fully recovered, tried stepping out of their little pack life and back home to your village.

stupid girl. they were never going to let you leave. you belonged to them now.

yeonjun was soft for you. at least, that's what the other boys say-- their eldest usually so callous and cold. you couldn't possibly see him that way, no matter how many stories you've been told; how could he possibly be the nastiest of the pack when he treated you the sweetest, gentle words and gentler touches. chaste kisses that never landed on your lips. you felt safest with him. you were still a little afraid of the others.

you were most afraid of beomgyu. loud and brash, nasty words falling from a sneering mouth-- his elders kept him in line, snapped at him when he went too far, but nothing could stop his constantly running mouth. he teased, he belitted, he degraded you. he never let you forget just how he viewed you; like a toy for him to play with. for all of them to play with.

but yet when beomgyu's rut rolled around, your cunt ached for him.

"f-fuck, fuck yeah-- take it all~" beomgyu groans, his fingers wound tight in your hair. he tugs you further down his thick cock, mushroom head knocking at the back of your little throat-- you gag at the intrusion, eyes watery, and beomgyu just laughs. "what a good bitch."

you whimper around his cock, try your best to hollow your cheeks, flatten your tongue against his underside— there wasn’t much else you could do with beomgyu using your head like a pocket pussy, roughly pushing and pulling to fuck his cock in and out of your throat. “like having your throat fucked, huh? yeah you do, you cockhungry slut— maybe i should knot your mouth instead of your pussy, make you swallow all my cum—“

the thought makes your throat close up in fear, fat tears threatening to fall down your red face as you choke and splutter. drool dribbles down your chin and smears across your cheeks, aided by beomgyu’s thumbs anchored on your cheekbones and forcing your mouth open— you look up at him desperately, whining, and beomgyu gazed back with honey dark eyes and a devilish smirk. “aww, don’t want beomie’s knot down your throat? i’m sure you’d take it just fine~”

“stop it, you’re scaring her.” yeonjun chastised from over your shoulder, his pretty soft voice comforting your cries immediately— you’d already be ass up and wailing around beomgyu’s knot if it wasn’t for him, your sweet jjunie making sure your tight cunt is stretched out enough to take them because beomgyu certainly wouldn’t have bothered. his long fingers dragged at your walls deliciously, pumping in and out of you with the lewdest wet noises— he changed angles to rub hard at your sweet spot, chuckling into your ear when your eyes roll back and you keen around beomgyu’s thick shaft. beomgyu groans deep in his chest, adams apple bobbing, and his grip on your cheeks tighten considerably. “there we go, pretty girl, doin’ so well~” yeonjun coos, gentle, free hand snaking down to rub tight circles against your neglected and swollen clit. “‘m not gonna let gyu knot your throat, baby, don’t worry— just keep making him feel good, yeah? be a good hole while jjunie gets you ready for breeding~”

beomgyu snickers darkly. “you’re so soft for our whore, hyung. acting like she’s your mate ‘n not just the pack cumdump, wont even let me fuck her my damn self—“

“you’d hurt her, you fucking beast.” yeonjun snaps, the arm playing at your clit tightening you against his chest. “gotta make sure you don’t break my— our toy.”

you’re grateful that beomgyu can’t refuse an order from the eldest, terrified of what facing his rut alone may have been like, tossed around and used like toy, yeonjun not there to act as a filter for beomgyu’s dirty mouth… it terrified you, but your pussy throbbed at the thought.

it was getting increasingly hard to focus on sucking beomgyu’s cock, yeonjun’s skilled fingers in your cunt making you stupid and drunk— beomgyu didn’t seem to mind much, head thrown back and grunting like an animal while he rammed his cock into your slack-jawed mouth. “are you done yet, then? wanna breed my bitch now.”

yeonjun scoffs but relents, sliding his slick-sticky fingers out of your hole— you whimper from the loss, pussy empty and fluttering around nothing, choke on beomgyu’s cock when yeonjun chuckles and slaps your ass. they switch positions easily, beomgyu pulling out of your throat with a sickening pop before clambering to mount you, big palms immediately moving to palm and grope at your reddening asscheeks. he pulls them apart with his thumbs, groans loud at the sight of your glistening cunt peeking between your thighs— yeonjun settles in beomgyu’s place, hums and pets your head when you nuzzle against the straining bulge in his jeans. “miss a cock in your mouth that bad, baby?” he laughs, hips bucking gently against your face. “greedy little girl, focus on beomgyu now, okay? he’s been very patient.”

beomgyu hadn’t been very patient, but that was besides the point. he holds your cheeks apart with his thumb, other hand keeping his cock steady as he slides it up and down your soaked slit, bumps the head against your aching clit. you moan at the sensation, rock your hips back into beomgyu’s pelvis— he spanks your abused ass even harder than yeonjun did, skin stinging and blooming with heat and pain, and you lurch forward with a broken wail. “quit moving, ‘m gettin’ my cock wet,” he growls.

you try to stay still the best you could, thighs shaking as beomgyu lines himself up with your twitching hole— he gives you no time to prepare, rough and quick in burying his cock in your pussy to the hilt. you throw your head back, cry out pathetically at the intrusion, watery eyes threatening to spill over… yeonjun strokes your cheek with his thumb.

the sound beomgyu makes when he bottoms out is ungodly, deep and low and making your clit twitch for attention as his hands grab on tight to your hips. “f-fuck,” beomgyu whimpers, sounding winded. “fuck, fuck, so tight, shit!—“

your poor little pussy is filled to the brim, stretched to it’s limit as you struggle to adjust to the way beomgyu’s cock parts your gummy walls and burns so good. you can feel every inch, every vein, every twitch of his shaft, still unmoving as beomgyu pants like a dog, hips stuttering and hands shaking as if in a daze.

yeonjun watches with a smirk, thumb rubbing circles against your cheekbone and smearing drool and precum further across your face— his cock strained against the front of his jeans obscenely, and the sight made your mouth water. “pussy drunk already, beomie? thought you wanted to breed her.”

beomgyu snorts, shaken out of his reverie— he rolls his hips hard against your ass, cock bullying impossibly deeper, and snickers when you choke on air. “gonna make her beg for it. c’mon, slut, wanna be bred? want my knot? tell us how bad you want it.”

“wanna be bred,” you echo quietly, gasping, sounding ruined and pathetic even to your own ears. beomgyu hadn’t even started fucking you yet and you were already fucked dumb.

“what was that, doll? didn’t hear you.” yeonjun goads, thumb slipping into your open mouth.

“breed me, please!” you cry, give in entirely— you couldn’t think, head cloudy and full of only yeonjun and beomgyu, only able to focus on how badly you wanted beomgyu to start moving, start making you feel good. “want it, want it, want your knot— fuck me!”

you can hear the sneer in beomgyu’s deep voice. “that’s a good whore.”

his hips start thrusting at a brutal pace, his flared cockhead battering your cervix like it was threatening to push through— and all you could do was take it, whimper and wail while he ruined your cunt, dizzy with the delicious drag of his veiny shaft against your walls. “such a good cocksleeve, fuck!” beomgyu spat, grip on your hips bruising. “pussy feels so fuckin’ good, so fuckin’ tight—“

you hold on to the front of yeonjun’s jeans for support, shaking with pleasure while the younger wolf fucks you stupid. “so big!” you whine, pathetic and wobbly, gazing up at yeonjun with teary eyes like he would somehow save you. “too much!”

yeonjun just chuckles and pets your hair, lets you slobber all over the bulge in his jeans as beomgyu blows your back out.

“gonna fuckin’— gonna knot you!” beomgyu babbles, hips moving impossibly faster, impossibly harder, his hard chest pressing against your back. your cunt ached with overwhelming pleasure, fat cock in your tummy making you dizzy; you loved it, loved beomgyu’s rough pace, love the way he fucked you like you were nothing but a toy. “gonna fill you up, shit, get you pregnant, fill you up with my puppies— fuck, i should bite you. make you mine forever! gonna knot you, gonna claim you… gonna cum!”

the threat of being turned struck a pang of terror through your chest, the threat far too real as beomgyu mouthed hot at your neck. the tears in your eyes were falling freely now, little body of wracking pathetic sobs— yeonjun cooed down at you, grabbed at your wet cheeks as he shushed your cries, stroked your face. “shhh, baby, it’s just his rut talking. i won’t let him do anything to you.”

you would feel more comforted if yeonjun wasn’t undoing his belt, fishing his red hot cock out of his pants. “just take it all like a good little knotslut, take what we give you… that’s a good girl, just like that~”

you take yeonjun into your throat just as you did beomgyu, with pretty flushed, hollowed cheeks and shining eyes— yeonjun groans low in his throat, hissing a quiet “fuck yeah” as he pushes himself in deeper, heavy balls slapping wet and nasty against your chin. both of your little holes are filled now, beomgyu still grunting and moaning obscenities as he pounds your puffy abused cunt; you can’t process a single thought anymore, not when yeonjun’s cock is laying heavy and salty on your tongue, not when you feel the swelling base of beomgyu’s knot catch on your rim… you were turned into the toy they saw you as. “you were made for this, weren’t you?” yeonjun sighs, tangling his fingers in your messy hair. “such a perfect little slut for me, for my pack~”

[uhhlifeig]

Gryffindor Common Room - Nov. 25 - word count: 794 - @wolfstarmicrofic (TW: Allusions to Walburga's A+ Parenting, SH kinda? oh and Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms)

The Gryffindor common room was almost empty. 

Sirius Black sat on the edge of the armchair closest to the hearth, wand spinning nervously in his fingers.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since that night, and every moment since had felt like dragging his feet through mud. He had apologized to James, to Peter, even to McGonagall. 

They’d all forgiven him- eventually, in James’s case, but none of it mattered because Remus hadn’t. 

Remus, who still wouldn’t meet his eyes in class, who barely spoke to him except when absolutely necessary.

Sirius didn’t blame him.

And for why he was sitting in the common room? He was planning to apologize again- and maybe, just maybe, Remus would hate him a little bit less.

But now, all his carefully constructed words felt hollow, like a dead tree stump. He didn’t know if he could fix this. 

He wasn’t sure he even deserved to.

The sound of footsteps on the boys’ staircase pulled him from his thoughts. He looked up sharply, his heart leaping to his throat as Remus appeared, rubbing a hand through his messy hair.

The werewolf froze when he saw him. His once-warm amber eyes were sharp now, wary. “What are you doing here?”

Sirius shot to his feet, gripping his wand tightly as a reassurance that this was real. “Remus, I- I was waiting for you. I need to talk to you.”

The other boy’s expression tightened. “You’ve already said enough, don’t you think?”

The words cut deep, but he couldn’t back out now. “I have to make this right.”

“Make it right?” Remus laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You can’t just- wave your wand and undo what you did.”

“I know. I know I messed up. I know I betrayed you.”

“You don’t know,” the taller boy snapped. He took a step closer. “You don’t know what it feels like to have your worst fear used against you. To know someone you trusted- someone you loved- put you in that position.”

Sirius flinched. Every word was like a punch to the gut. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But please, just let me-”

“Let you what?” Remus’s voice rose. “Say you’re sorry again? Beg me to act like nothing happened? It doesn’t work like that!”

The dog animagus’s throat tightened. He couldn’t find the words he’d practiced. Everything in him screamed that words weren’t enough anyway. 

Nothing would ever be enough. 

“Then do something about it,” Sirius said abruptly, his voice shaky. He took a step forward and held out his wand to his ex-lover. “Here.”

Remus blinked. “What?”

The wand was shoved into his hands. “Take it. Just take it.”

“What are-”

The noiret dropped to his knees before he could think about it. He hit the stone floor hard, but he didn’t care. The sting felt right. 

“Do it.”

“Do what?” Remus asked, his voice sharp with confusion.

“Curse me. Hurt me. I don’t care. I deserve it.”

The room was silent except for the crackle of the fire and Sirius’s ragged breathing. The dirty blonde stared at him, his expression frozen somewhere between shock and horror. “What are you talking about?”

“I betrayed you. I hurt you, so you can hurt me back. This is what I deserve.” the older boy’s voice broke on the last word. His mother’s voice echoed in his mind, cold and cruel. 

Repent. Learn. 

Take the punishment you deserve.

It’s what you do for the people you’re a burden to.

“Sirius...”

“You’ll feel better,” he insisted, his voice rising in desperation. “You’ll see.” He bowed his head, his shoulders trembling. 

Nothing happened. 

There was no spell, no harsh words, no punishment. Sirius looked up, confused, only to find Remus standing frozen, the wand hanging limply in his hand. 

“Why did you give me this?” 

“Because you should use it,” the gray-eyed boy said. “I know you want to. You have my permission, okay?”

The werewolf’s brow furrowed, and he shook his head. “Sirius, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But you should. It’ll help.”

“No, it won't.” Remus sounded very sure of himself- so sure, in fact, that Sirius looked up out of shock. 

He watched, shocked, as his ex-boyfriend knelt down in front of him, setting the wand aside. “You’re not your mother, Sirius,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry for saying you were.”

The dam broke. Sirius’s chest heaved as tears spilled down his face. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

Remus reached out hesitantly, his hands settling on the shorter boy’s shoulders. “We’ll figure it out- but not like this. Never like this.”

The dog animagus sniffled. “I’m so sorry.”

“And so am I.”

(heavily inspired by "but i want it, it's a crime" by fertilizingdaffodils on ao3! check it out, i love that fic sm)

pt. 1, pt. 2

@estellethewriter

[dragon-in-a-fez]

least onomatopoeic word in the English language has to be "ramekin". that word sounds like a freaky wee gnome guy. what do you mean a ramekin is a little bowl. we didn't even need a specific word for a bowl that size and even if we did that's the wrong word for that. a weird little bowl should be called like, a clough. a borran. a mell. a ramekin is a guy the size of a small badger that lives in a hollowed out tree stump and wears a pointy hat and knows the old magics. like ah shit I pissed off the ramekins that live in the forest and they've put a curse on my house