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WIKTOBER: Open for Submissions. | A KinnPorsche: the Series Fanfic.
This sixth chapter references milkfic. Please read the end notes for further information.
Summary:
Chay runs an annual fic fest for WIK, a popular singer. Kim, a lurker in his own fandom, becomes an admin.
Read the story here!
#hell yeaaaahhhh (but how they sing it in like a g6)#we gave up on work today and wrote 2000 words of Kimchay nonsense and another 1000 words of Unai and Pedri nonsense lets gooooooooooooooooo#kimchay#myfics#my fics#WOFS#Kimchay fic#I don't even remember what tags I usually use for Kimchay posts its been like six years#depression fic posting#KinnPorsche
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Lazy Cuddles/ 2
Pairing- Yoongi x Named Reader
Word count- 1.9k
Includes- Soft cuddly boyfriend Yoongi, lazy sex from behind, cock riding, multiple orgasms, so much fluff
Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa
@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000 @amyz78 @blueie-things
Masterlists- check out for more fics
📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Yoongi Masterlist
📝Lazy Cuddles 1
Yoongi POV
"Jagi?", I call, coming into the living room
"Mmmm?", she answers
"Jagi, where are you?"
I walk around the couch to find her laying on it, her face buried in the pillows, blanket pulled up to her chin
"What are you doing baby?", I chuckle, sitting next to her
"Dying"
"No baby, you can't die", I joke, "I need you jagi"
"Yoongi", she whines
Something's wrong
She'd usually joke back with me
"Tell me what's wrong baby", I ask, running my fingers in her hair
"Bad headache", she whispers, "Hurts so much"
"I'm sorry jagi"
She gets bad headaches from time to time
Even with meds it still hurts
Sometimes they last hours, sometimes they're short
Sometimes she gets one every day for a week or two then none for months
She's been checked out and there's no explanation for them
"Did you take meds?"
"Three Advil"
"Three?", I gape
That's a lot but it's normally what she takes when the headaches are severe
"Very bad headache", she whines, "And it's not working anyway"
"I'm sorry baby. Did you drink water? Maybe you're dehydrated?"
"I did naekkeo", she answers, "I'm just trying to nap. Maybe it'll go away when I wake up"
Sounds like a good idea
I don't want to leave her alone though
"I'll stay with you jagi"
She lifts her head, squinting at me, "You don't have to work?"
"Yeah but I can do it here. Use my laptop and headphones and I'll be right next to you"
She nods, "Ok naekkeo. Thank you"
"Of course Jo"
Leaning over her, I kiss her forehead then get up to get my stuff
--------------------------------
Half an hour later, I stop the music to change something when I hear her whimper
Reaching out, I rub her back as I fix what I need to fix
Then I hit play and listen to the melody
She moves, turning around, her back to me, trying to get comfortable
She hasn't been able to fall asleep yet
I'm trying everything I can- play with her hair, massage her forehead, rub her back but nothing is working
I don't know what else to do for her
Once the music stops playing, I decide it's good and I open a new file to work on
"Yoongi", she whispers
"Yeah baby?"
"Can....you hold me?"
I smile at her back, saying, "Yeah jagi. Of course. I can use a break anyway"
I'll do anything for her, drop anything for her, to help her, to comfort her
Taking my headphones off, I put them and my laptop on the floor, then lay down under the blanket next to her
Wrapping my arms around her body, I pull her against me, her back to my chest
I cuddle into the back of her neck, pressing kisses to her skin there
"Better jagi?"
"Yeah naekkeo. Thank you"
"No need to thank me. I'll always jump at the chance to hold you"
"I love you Yoongi. So much"
"I love you Jo. More than anything", I tell her, "Now try to sleep baby ok? I don't want you hurting anymore"
"I'll try", she says softly
"Good"
Pressing a kiss to her neck, I hold her, my eyes closing as well
I'm not planning on sleeping as I'm not tired but I don't want to just stare at nothing
A few minutes later, I hear her even breathing and I smile
Seems like she just wanted me
Which is fine because she can have me whenever she wants
I'm not ready to get up yet so I just keep a tight hold on my jagi
--------------------------------
Movement against my dick wakes me up
She's moving around in my arms, her ass rubbing against my crotch
What time is it?
I don't even remember falling asleep
It's not a big deal
That's our thing
Naps
A nap with my jagi is never a bad thing
But her wiggling around is making my dick hard
"Jagi", I murmur, moving my hand down to her hips and stopping her movements, "Don't wiggle baby"
"Huh?", she asks sleepily
"Don't wiggle. Your ass is rubbing against me and making me hard"
"Mmm", she whines, still pushing against me
"Is your headache gone?", I ask, trying not to think about sex
"Yeah. Just needed a nap", she says softly, her body still pressing and moving against my dick
"No more wiggling jagi", I say softly, my cock fully hard against her
It'll go away, I just need her to stop moving
"Put it in naekkeo", she murmurs
"What?", I ask, not sure I heard her right
"I feel how hard you are. Want you. Put it in"
It takes a second for my sleep riddled brain to comprehend what she's saying
"Are you sure?", I ask, once what she says sinks in
"Yes naekkeo. Want you"
I definitely want her so I pull her pants and panties down as far as I can
She lifts her legs to her chest, pulling everything off as I pull my pants and boxers down
I pull her back against me, then align my dick to her entrance and start pushing in slowly
"Yoongi", she murmur, her tight pussy opening for my cock, sucking me in as I move
"Jagi", I whimper, my arm moving around her, keeping her body against mine, "Feels so good baby"
"Mmm", she moans, her cunt getting wetter, leaking around my cock with each inch in
I'm almost in and I shove my hips forward, burying entirely in her sweet cunt, feeling the hard clenching her pussy is doing
The pleasure rolls over me as we both moan
"So good naekkeo", she says softly
"Always good jagi", I tell her, kissing the back of her neck
I move one of her legs back, over mine thigh, spreading her legs open
Moving my hand in between her legs, I run my fingers up her pussy, collecting the juice she's leaking around my cock
Then I press on her throbbing clit, hearing her gasp, and start moving my fingers in a circle
"Yoongi", she moans, shaking against me
Her pussy tightens so hard around me, spasming so blissfully
With each massage of my fingers, her cunt creams my dick more and more
I keep my cock firmly buried in her cunt, starting to grind into her, making sure my head rubs her spot
I slide my free hand up her shirt, groping her boob, pinching her nipple
"Oh god", she cries, "Yoongi, don't stop"
"I'm not baby", I murmur against the back of her neck, pressing soft kisses to it, "Not until you cum all over my cock"
She whimpers, her pussy spasming wonderfully hard around my length
She's so fucking tight, it like her pussy is choking my cock and I'm living for every pulse
I play with her throbbing clit faster, her cunt a waterfall, soaking my pelvis and my thighs, her pretty moans music to my ears
She's close, I can tell from how her pussy's gripping my cock, how she's throbbing
And I know what she needs when she's right there
"Cum for me jagi", I murmur in her ear, "Want your pretty pussy coming all over my cock for me"
"Yoongi, oh god"
She falls apart at the next move of my fingers, orgasming all over me
"Yes baby. Don't stop", I murmur, her body shaking against mine, pleasure from her orgasm washing over me
It feels so fucking good and I wouldn't have it any other way
Her legs start to close as her orgasm continues
Letting go of her boob, I grip her thigh, holding it open
"Keep your legs open", I demand, "I didn't tell you to close them. I'm not done with you yet baby"
She nods, "Ok naekkeo"
"Good girl"
After she finishes, I hold her around her waist and keeping her leg over mine, I pull my hips back, feeling every inch of her pussy tug on my cock as I pull out to my head
"Ready for me jagi?"
She nods
I thrust my whole cock back into her, slamming her spot, her scream of pleasure sounding in the room
I move quickly, fucking her pretty pussy, incredible pleasure washing over me
Her pussy squelches with every thrust, the pornographic sound turning me on more
I pound into her, spreading her hole around my length, making her cunt cream every inch of my cock
She leans back, her arm moving around my neck, her lips crashing into mine
I throw myself into her kiss, my tongue against hers, kissing her hungrily as I fuck her pussy wide open
The kiss is messy, our tongues all over each other's and it's so right in this moment
She moves, pulling me out, then climbs on top of me, sliding down my cock to the hilt
"I need you baby", she murmurs, bouncing on my cock right away
Fuck, I need her
I move us, leaning against the couch cushion, my hands on her thighs
As she comes down, I thrust up into her cunt, going in so deep
"Yes, Yoongi", she cries, grinding on me when I'm all in
I watch her slide up my cock, her pussy cream coating my cock, making a big beautiful mess
She comes down, her pretty swollen lips wrapped around my length, her hole opening and straining as she takes me
Sliding my hands up, I push her shirt up and off, watching her pretty boobs bouncing in my face
She tugs on my shirt, whining as she rides me and I get the hint
As soon as my shirt is off, she leans her hands on my shoulders, fucking the life from me
The pleasure is exquisite and the view of her on my cock, the pleasure in her face is mesmerizing
I love this girl more than anything in this world
I start moving again, thrusting up into her pretty hole as she bounces down, the bliss increasing for both of us
"Yoongi, yes...yes baby", she pants, her gorgeous brown eyes on mine
"So fucking good jagi. Such a good girl for me", I murmur, the throbbing of her pussy becoming extremely hard and tight
We fuck each other, both sweating and the next thrust has her screaming as she cums
"Yoongi", she cries, her pussy squirting, soaking me, her head back, her hips rocking, eyes closed, her fingers digging into the skin of my chest
Ecstacy tidal waves over me, stars explode in my vision, my hand squeezing her thighs hard as I go over the edge, filling her cunt with my cum
"Joanne! Jagi!"
"Yoongi! Yoongi!"
I help her rock on me to prolong the bliss for both of us, my body shaking involuntarily
God, it's so fucking amazing
She's amazing
As we finish, her rocking slows down until she stops
Her eyes meet mine, a soft smile on her face
Her hand cups my cheek, her fingers stroking my skin, a loving look on her face as she gazes at me
"I love you"
My heart pounds in my chest, like it always does when I hear her say those words
"I love you", I tell her, smiling at her too
She leans down, her lips meeting mine
I immediately fall into her kiss, her arms moving around my neck, mine around her waist
As we kiss, we move, laying down, her body against mine, her soft skin against mine, our legs tangling together
Holding onto each other tightly, we cuddle and kiss each other with no intention to stop
#bts yoongi smut#min yoongi smut#yoongi smut#bts suga smut#suga smut#min yoongi fanfiction#bts yoongi fanfic#min yoongi fanfic#suga fanfic#bts suga fanfic#bts fanfic#bts smut
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I'm usually a Vezmancer, but this time I decided to try all the routes and Laz...my my my what do we have here? I love the Oracle being this morose, hissing wet cat to him, hitting him with the "Why are you doing this I'm doomed to die sooner or later, stop it, let me die in solitude" is just marvelous (I'm a sucker for that sort of thing). (I also love being able to just pick whoever without worrying about always picking that RO in other scenes).
I truly hope at some point we get to circle back to the loneliness conversation (for added angst maybe after Laz fs up and get to hit them with the "should've stayed lonely I guess" and idk turn invisible or into a bird/butterfly so they can't/won't look at us and fly off).
I do have a question, mostly because I can't remember what the warnings were prior to this chapter, but just how dark can we make the story? Cause I noticed that every time the Oracle starts to go dark, they immediately bounce back. Like with Argellan (apologies if that's not how it's spelled, I don't remember assholes' names out of disrespect lol jk I'm just terrible with spelling) they almost start to cry and then just don't. Or they feel helpless and then just get determined even if most options I pick are the passive/I deserve this and "oh well guess I'll die" options. I'm not complaining, mind, I get going down the major depression path is not something everyone wants to do nor is comfortable doing, and that's 1000% ok. Your story, I'm just here for the ride.
I'm mostly curious given the warnings on if those tags are for the other characters? Or if it depends on our sanity or if it can get darker later? To set my expectations if you will. No need for spoilers and if it makes you uncomfortable/upset apologies, please don't feel the need to answer.
Regardless I look forward to confusing all the ROs with my pessimism and chaos.
I’m glad you enjoyed Laz’s route! Thank you for sharing your thoughts 💛
I understand you might want more “depressing” options, but it’s just not the direction I planned for this main character. They can end up in a pretty bad situation if their sanity falls, but overall, their potential tragedy is in misinterpreting what they need to become happy.
The Oracle is someone who wants a better life. It’s at the heart of their character. Every decision they have been making their whole life is pushed by this desire. They might be doomed, but they’re not going down quietly. They will force themselves to get up even when the situation is bleak, and that was the point of that moment—to show that they don’t allow anyone/anything to beat them down easily. They never have, and that’s why they’re still alive and trying to not just live, but live well.
Their developing arc isn’t “I want to live love laugh” vs “I’ll die so everything’s meaningless”, it’s more like “I’ll become a better person against all odds and find my place” vs “I’ll take what I want by any means necessarily even if it makes me miserable”. That’s as much as I can say without spoilering things.
So yeah, they’re not staying in the gutter. We’re actually at the point in the story where they begin to pick themselves up and take control of their life.
For the warnings—it’s mostly for what the Oracle encounters, though some of it will apply to them if you go down a particular path. Let’s just say… they might end up in a worse situation than they’re in now, you know? 🌚 Perhaps you'll enjoy that route! :)
#the abyssal song#asks#spoilers#kinda#oracle#interactive fiction#interactive game#interactive novel#twine wip
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I hope this is okay I feel like my writer brain can't do good prompts cause I might go into too much detail but imma try ngjgjgjh
Lawyers mihyo who're maybe working on a case together? Mina has this habit of going full hot girl sharon to mess with Hyo at random ass moment cause they're close enough that she doesn't feel as shy most of the times and she doesn't know that Jihyo is constantly one wrong (right) move from begging to be ruined. Ione day Mina does something that has Jihyo forgetting all her professionalism and downright pleading to get fucked. This makes Mina realise she loves making Jihyo beg which leads to maybe some edging and some teary Jihyo and some soft aftercare? Also since they're lawyers maybe all this happens somewhere at the law firm before an important briefing they're supposed to have with a client?
hi bestie! i could've done something much better with your request but ykw i was dying to post jihyo bottoming again... she was made for this... and i miss her
cw: mina has stiletto nails. and she still tops. power move. good for her. not so good for jihyo.
mina knows what she’s doing.
she knows exactly what she’s trying to achieve by the way she acts around her sweetest coworker, jihyo, being especially fueled with the reactions she gets.
that jihyo was adorable when pink was all over her face and she didn’t know where to look, mina knew. she was the reason for that, meticulously provoked that out of her, making her usually focused, serious coworker, shy and exceptionally flustered.
to mina’s surprise, when they were alone, their roles seemed to be reversed — jihyo, instead of being the cool extrovert she was most definitely proud to be, became no more than a timid mess, sometimes incapable of looking at mina in the eye when speaking to her.
the situation didn’t make their work any harder whatsoever, as they rarely worked on the same case along each other, with jihyo being a corporate lawyer and mina being inclined towards the criminal field. that time, they were working together due to one of jihyo’s clients, who happened to need assistance from mina’s field.
“miss myoui…” jihyo calls, using the honorific, as mina had never told her not to. every other coworker, except for the interns, called mina by her name — never ‘miss’. but something about having jihyo calling her ‘miss’ left mina too satisfied, unable to tell jihyo to drop the display of respect.
a small smile prods at her lips when jihyo calls her for the nth time, in a hesitant voice, unlike the way she spoke to others. with confidence, that is. when speaking to mina, jihyo often forgot that she wasn’t on a lower position than mina at the firm. if anything, it was mina who was supposed to treat her with such respect, as jihyo had been there for longer.
mina was supposed to be working. she didn’t tell jihyo she’d already looked though the files they were studying and found her ways to convince the judge that jihyo’s client was innocent — if he was, that didn’t matter. he could be if mina could prove that he was. mina had planned ahead, knowing she wouldn’t have time alone with jihyo again soon, deciding to make the best out of it.
and so, because mina already knew what to do and what to expect from the meeting they’d have with their client later that same day, instead of working, she observed jihyo — and distracted her when she felt like it. what starts with sitting next to jihyo with a leg over the other, intentionally exposing her thighs, escalates to suddenly praising jihyo at random times. (she does it for jihyo’s excellent work, and because jihyo looked pretty.)
mina takes her sweet time to make jihyo lose her focus entirely, having fun as jihyo slowly forgets how to use her words properly. jihyo doesn’t stutter, but she struggles to sound professional when miss myoui is touching her hair and telling her that it looked pretty when it was loose, that she should wear dresses more often, and everything she could possibly say to make jihyo red from her cheeks to the ears hidden under her hair.
jihyo doesn’t understand mina, the way she acts towards her. not at first, not on that occasion. mina has always been like that around her: charming, alluring. she was simply flirty by nature, and jihyo would never think mina was truly trying to flirt with her, but soon mina is massaging her shoulders, having the freedom to do so as they were alone in a conference room, and jihyo is no longer reading through the case’s files.
jihyo doesn’t know how or when mina gets there, behind her, with both hands on her shoulders, whispering questions about the case close to her ear, as if jihyo could possibly answer them. jihyo tries to — she does her best to muster up words to properly answer mina, frustrated when all that comes out from her mouth is a whimper and a stuttered ‘miss myoui’.
“no need to be this tense, jihyo. i’m sure our client will be fine. you’re the best after all,” mina coos, pretending to not notice that what had gotten jihyo troubled wasn’t their case, but her hands pressing her shoulders and nails close to sinking into her bare arms.
“m-miss… please…” jihyo mutters, desperate, still trying to figure how did mina get so close. she feels like she’s embarrassing herself then, calling mina so respectfully, feeling almost like she wasn’t a fellow lawyer, but an intern instead — someone mina could easily boss around, having all the power to do so as a result of being in a higher position.
“so nervous, park.” mina laughs, the sultry sound reaching jihyo’s ear quickly due to how close mina was. she pulls away, turning jihyo’s chair around so that she could see her face, not surprised to find jihyo utterly flushed, but curious as she sees jihyo’s cheeks adorned with tears that she’d hardly noticed falling from her eyes. “are these perhaps because of me?”
jihyo shivers, flinching when mina’s manicured hands are suddenly on her knees, raising her dress up to her thighs, sharp nails purposefully leaving their mark on the lawyer’s smooth skin.
“m-miss!” jihyo lets out then, more tears following her words. though mina had already expected jihyo to be just like that — amusingly shy and submissive, she wasn’t entirely prepared to hear jihyo begging. shameful words slip out of jihyo next, while mina is still admiring jihyo’s pretty face, relishing in the way such a respectable, honored lawyer like jihyo became but a precious prey that she’d love to ruin with just the slightest teasing. “i-inside… please… please!”
jihyo whines softly, holding one of mina’s hands with both of hers, spreading her legs slightly apart, both offering herself and pleading for mina to take her.
mina knows jihyo is aware she could get hurt — the same hands jihyo was politely begging to have inside herself carried the stiletto nails that left her arms and thighs reddened from negligible pressure. still, jihyo held mina’s hand like a cat with it’s owner, not wanting to let go, looking as if she’d cry if mina didn’t do what she so desperately asked for.
“interesting,” mina coos, resisting the urge to wipe jihyo’s tears away, finding her even prettier with her face all wet, enjoying to make her embarrassed, finding jihyo the cutest when she was ashamed. “are you sure, miss park?” mina taunts, raising the dress even more, to the point she could see how wet jihyo was.
jihyo nods quickly, guiding mina’s hand to her center. “i-i n-need this, miss!” she insists, whimpering when mina’s index finger gets hooked under her panties.
mina stretches it far enough she can see jihyo’s pussy, licking her lips at the thought of having her face between jihyo’s thighs, forcing her to take more than she’d ever be able to handle. though she’d love to ruin jihyo right there and then, amazed by how easy that would really be, they didn’t have a lot more time to spend alone.
“so you like it risky, park?” mina laughs softly. “not that i’m opposed to hurting you,” she lets her fingers sink inside the soaked panties, teasing jihyo’s clit with the tip of her fingers, careful not to harm jihyo. “because you’d love that. i just don’t think you really want these inside of you.”
“but i want them! your fingers,” jihyo mumbles, pouting as she does so, moaning when mina applies more pressure over her clit, circling the sensitive nub slowly. “…inside me. want them inside.”
jihyo would cry harder if mina truly said no, mina realizes, amused to get to know that part of her. jihyo could handle her, even if having mina inside her that way meant that mina wouldn’t be able to fuck her properly — jihyo didn’t care.
“begging already, huh…” mina offers her a gentle smile, though what she says next doesn’t come out as soft. “convince me.”
jihyo becomes even more frustrated then, bucking her hips to feel more of mina’s fingers, earning a click of mina’s tongue.
“’m s-sorry!” jihyo quickly makes up for her mistake. “i c-can take it!” she insists, pouting slightly as she looks up at mina, cheeks burning when she notices just how close mina really was, towering over her, with her eyes so dark that part of jihyo became scared. “y-you don’t have to… t-to move them, miss… i just wan’ them there.”
“keep going.” mina encourages her to beg, her free hand finding the table behind jihyo for support, the other still inside her coworker’s panties, spreading jihyo’s wetness, wanting to know if she could grant jihyo’s wish.
jihyo was wet enough by the time mina lowered her hand further, still rubbing mina’s ego with her pitiful pleading. mina attempts to sink in and jihyo whines, clenching around the tip of mina’s fingers, prepared for the discomfort she’d feel until mina stopped, knuckles deep into her.
it doesn’t hurt — mina is careful and her fingers happen to slip in easily, but if she were to move, then jihyo would certainly be left with unwanted bruises.
perhaps it felt almost as good as having mina really fucking her, thrusting her fingers in and out without an obstacle, as knowing mina could easily tear her apart made her stomach clench, aroused by the idea of it but knowing she wouldn’t want that.
“it’s like you were made for this.” mina praises, lowering herself until her knees were touching the floor, knowing she couldn’t do much with the fingers she had stuffed inside jihyo. she pulls jihyo’s panties down to her ankles, looking up at the already disheveled girl, wondering how jihyo would look if she could really take her time to ruin her. “now, i don’t kneel. but since you’re such a good girl, miss park, i think you deserve this.”
it takes jihyo a lot of effort to not come undone the moment mina’s tongue meets her clit.
everything is hot. despite the cold air in the room, jihyo sweats, her skin burning as mina works her tongue against her sensitive nub, thighs locking mina there, letting out pitiful ‘miss myoui’s, not trying to fight against the urge to have mina destroying her. not in the slightest. it was far too late for that, and jihyo was too weak to pretend that that wasn’t exactly what she’d been craving for.
it’s all too much for her. the way mina sinks her nails on her thigh and moves the fingers inside her just barely, merely pressing her fingers against the slick walls carefully, velvety tongue making jihyo melt on the chair. whimpery moans reach mina’s ears sweetly, making mina moan against jihyo’s pussy, fighting back the urge to lay jihyo on that table and forget about their meeting.
“miss… can i-i…” jihyo hardly finishes her sentence, and mina sends her into a wave of bliss.
her fists become white as she holds the arms of the chair, crying as she gets ready to come for mina, impatient hips moving for more friction of mina’s fingers — but mina stops. what should’ve been an orgasm doesn’t happen, making jihyo open her watery eyes and search for mina’s, wanting to ask why she’d stopped, desperate for her release.
but nothing comes out from her mouth.
“i’m afraid our client must be arriving, miss park. you should probably get yourself clean. we wouldn’t want our client to make... vulgar assumptions, would we?” mina laughs, stuffing jihyo’s mouth with the two slender fingers that had been inside of her. she pulls them back before jihyo gets to fully clean them. “i’ll be waiting for you.”
during the meeting, jihyo gets to be the professional she was. mina doesn’t try anything while they’re discussing important matters with their client, and jihyo is allowed to prove mina she’s still a great professional after having her pride previously hurt. (not that jihyo cared if mina knew about her tendencies to submission, but part of her wanted mina to know she was more than that.)
when their client leaves, it’s already night. jihyo then finds herself trapped against mina and the table again, but this time, all mina wants is to let her know that they’re going home together — to mina’s. all mina says is that they weren’t yet done, and jihyo had no choice other than follow mina.
when the sun is rising, jihyo is still at mina’s mercy. mina is impressed with how far she was able to go with jihyo, only allowing her to come when she knows jihyo is about to break and beg her to stop rather than letting her come.
she learns then that she’s especially fond of the way jihyo sobs into the pillow when she is finally allowed to come, ass up for mina (barely able to stay like that, because her knees falter and her legs start trembling as she comes), body completely ruined by mina’s teeth, the palm of mina's hands and her sharp nails.
“you cry a lot, jihyo.” mina mumbles, pulling out of jihyo, slowly taking the harness around her waist off. jihyo turns her head to the other side when mina leaves the strap on the bed, next to her face, her body finally falling against the bed, still inevitably crying as mina kissed her back. “did i push it too far?”
jihyo shakes her head, incapable of looking at mina in the eye as she comes back to her full senses.
“talk to me, hyo. i need to know you’re feeling well,” mina’s voice softens, entirely different from the way she’d been speaking to jihyo all day long. she makes jihyo turn around and face her, thumb brushing jihyo’s cheek tenderly as she inches down for a short kiss. “do i have to make you speak?” mina taunts then, making jihyo’s eyes widen.
“n-no, i’m o-okay!” jihyo manages to say, tears falling as she blinks, her body still trying to recover from being used, abruptly forced to not come several times. “i’m just… i-i… you make me nervous!”
“i didn’t even notice.” mina smiles and jihyo pouts, losing her breath when mina presses her lips to her forehead. “you’re cute, miss park.”
jihyo huffs, the reaction more instinctive than intentional. “i’m not.”
“sure,” mina coos. she pulls away, intending to take jihyo in her arms and take care of her.
for a moment mina stops, admiring her well-done work ruining jihyo’s body, licking her lips when she runs her eyes down and catches a glimpse of jihyo’s reddened, soaked core, thoroughly ruined from being played with for far too long. mina’s stomach tightens at the realization that jihyo was still leaking with her own wetness, getting mina’s bed soaked under her.
jihyo sits up on the bed, face close to mina’s, wanting to get her attention away from her body, feeling shy again. “miss myoui.”
“it’s mina. no need to call me miss all the time,” mina passes her arm around jihyo’s waist. “though i liked to hear it when you were begging for me.” she finishes, and jihyo’s head fall to her shoulder. “mind to join me on a bath, miss park?”
“i like hyo better.” jihyo mutters softly. “can you give me a minute?”
“mhm.” mina agrees, but she pulls jihyo closer, making jihyo sit on her lap while jihyo finds the courage to get up and let herself be taken care of by mina. “just don’t sleep yet.”
“i won’t…” jihyo yawns, drowsy, closing her eyes and slowly forgetting her own words.
#snowddeong#jihyo#mina#mihyo#fill#i don't remember what tags i usually use...#lets pretend i wasn't supposed to post stuff in december#gonna be honest. i got bored after i wrote like half of what i was working on#anyway here's mihyo!#i didn't do my best proof reading this so ignore typos
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wow wow wow ok ok ok ok
so im partway through the wardance event in HSR 2.5 and my mind is SPINNING
in particular finishing the most recent main quest with the Borisin, then hearing about Igor Haft of Belobog...
it's FASCINATING to me how the civilizations in HSR seem to not only follow a path that they value, but a path that they need and end up getting very little help from
belobog following the preservation because their small, impoverished planet is constantly under threat of death and destruction... such that very little is actually "preserved" with any success
the xianzhou alliance following the hunt to root out and eliminate their enemies without mercy... only for those same enemies to stir up trouble from within their own ranks, with the xianzhou luofu in particular failing to realize until two major disasters had already been set in motion. and even before then, considering everything implied with dan feng, i doubt this is the first time they've faced internal conflict like this
penacony following the harmony to ensure the happiness and unity of their people, only for what little harmony actually exists to simply cover up the turbulence and suffering belying every luxury... such that the order arose in the first place to deal with what the harmony couldn't, a thick undercurrent of inequality and divisiveness that plagued every worker, every poor soul that saw penacony as their safe haven, their last hope
that those desperate for preservation would come out with so little, with so many wounds. that those desperate to hunt down threats would be perpetually plagued by internal betrayals and setups. that those desperate for harmony, peace, and unity would allow its weak to suffer until the only option left is not prosperity but silence and preconceived "happiness"....
it's just fascinating to me how those following a path actually have the least of it. it's fascinating how the pathstriders of the preservation are on the brink of demise, the pathstriders of the hunt are under threat of ambush, the pathstriders of the harmony struggle to remain united and fair to their people.
#hsr spoilers#hsr#hsr 2.5#im dying. im losing my mind im dying#IVE HAD THIS THOUGHT WITH AVENTURINE SPECIFICALLY BUT. NOW IT'S THE WHOLE COUNTRY (? CITY?) OF BELOBOG#RAAGAGGGHHHHHHHHHH#maybe i shouldn't have said pathstriders but i don't know how to distinguish between individuals vs countries/planets/ships here#anyway whatever im sure it goes for pathstriders too.#WITHIN THIS CONTEXT... the path you follow not being necessarily your determination. but what you want the most#robin following the harmony because of her doubts in her family.. that she wants to CREATE and secure that unity and fairness#aventurine following the preservation because that's all he has left. if he loses anything else he's as good as dead so#all he NEEDS is to hang on to his life. it's all he has it's all he needs. as long as he has that then he can keep moving forward#towards what? who knows. it's one step at a time for him. he's living paycheck to paycheck with his life. he'll figure out why it's#even worth preserving when he gets there.#sampo... wish i knew him better. but for him i think it could be that a certain amount of nihility is necessary to survive his lifestyle#anyway yeah i just. im thinking about it#my post#my posts#don't remember which tag i usually use for that hfndgbd
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Falls to my knees. Qiblijou. Kinkabli. Whatever you want to call it. Does anyone understand. Does anyone understand.
Now, as a certified AroAce, I am not the type to pedal that every dynamic ever has to be romantic. But also. I think they're cute as a couple. But ALSO also, even if you do not care for them as a couple, I need more people to discuss and write about and draw their dynamic. I need more if it like, yesterday.
Having to put this under the cut because it got crazy fucking long but like trust me. Trust me okay.
The element I find so compelling about them is that they read very much as similar characters at first-boiling down largely to "silly and kind". They diverge from this shared center point largely in how they react to trauma; They both are survivors, persistently... Goofy in the face of hardship. Kinkajou's seems to act as a natural element of her personality, rising up in face of being a generally lonely and somewhat disliked child. It's interesting how her impulsive nature and cheery demeanor overlaps with the genuine emotional intelligence she seems to hold. In moments of low-tension, where her head's clear and she's not immediately tunneling down something else, she seems fully able to process the fact that her trauma DOES effect her and often at least somewhat how. She doesn't have any big feelings on it, but she can still recognize her knee-jerk reaction to a Nightwing roommate being due to her trauma. Later conclusions about Moonwatcher being an exception due to some general difference from Nightwings as a whole, while not fully "correct", does still show her own ability to recognize these knee-jerk feelings as irrational-At least when faced with significant proof of that being the case, rather than doubling down on her own internal logic that's been shaped by her traumas. Her impulsivity and general hyperactivity tends to push this understanding to the side however, leaving a lot of her trauma something she's working past but not necessarily resolved. It isn't that Kinkajou is purposefully trying to avoid her pain to an unhealthy degree, so much as I think she largely doesn't think about it until she's forced to.
Meanwhile, Qibli's goofy exterior seems to largely be a mask; Or, at the very least, somewhat purposefully curated. He lives almost entirely in his fight or flight response, and seems to interpret his own overthinking and anxiety responses as a boon rather than an effect of his trauma. He likes his scar, but can't reconcile how he got it; Can't reconcile the part of him that loves his mother and wants to believe she loves him back with the fact that she hurt him, repeatedly, through pretty much every avenue one can neglect or abuse a child. This makes his optimistic veneer a lot more purposeful, an attempt to earn people's love because there was never any guarantee of receiving it from anyone. I don't believe that being this silly, playful person is necessarily fully disingenuous of Qibli, so much as I think he forces himself to amount to ONLY this. Shoves himself into a box which is used largely to ignore his trauma, as opposed to cope with it. He can't acknowledge everything that's happened to him affecting him because its incongruous with his image-both to others and himself. Despite being perceived as traditionally intelligent, Qibli's honestly incredibly lacking in the realm of emotional intelligence.
I think that ultimately, this leads them to having a very interesting balance and chemistry that's effective in getting me invested in them even though they have very little one-on-one time during the arc. They don't have any particularly "deep" moments together, but there's this implicit understanding and trust in a lot of their interactions. They match each other on a level that the rest of the Jade Winglet doesn't quite hit due to the vastly different levels they're coming from. While Qibli's not lacking his own impulsivity issues, his tendency to scrutinize and overplan becomes much more effective when it's actively curbing Kinkajou's tendency to fling into danger head-first, while Kinkajou's high-energy and quickness to action forces Qibli out of his own head in order to keep up with her.
Beyond the way they balance each other out, there's a strongly showcased, implicit trust between the two of them. Kinkajou and Qibli are co-conspirators, and them dealing with Chameleon in Book 10 (for all the gripes I hold against this book) showcase this perfectly. Qibli keeps Kinkajou from immediately jumping to action, but he doesn't talk over her, and Kinkajou's information is both pivotal to their planning and prompts Qibli to act. An important element too is that Qibli's trust in Kinkajou doesn't result in excessive idolization, like it does with Moon-Not to say that Moonbli is bad, but rather, it's an element of the relationship that makes Kinkajou and Qibli mesh much easier while Moonbli, I wholeheartedly believe, requires a lot more work to make work than canon would suggest. I think this trust is particularly important due to Qibli's issues with control, which he still easily puts aside for Kinkajou when he lets her simply keep the scrolls from Chameleon, instead of doubling down on them destroying them. Kinkajou opts to keep the scrolls at that's the end of it; even if Qibli's worried over Chameleon coming after them, he simply trusts Kinkajou to take care of them, and that's the end of it.
The way they match each other's energy is also just incredibly sweet. The Vase SceneTM comes immediately after it, so nobody ever talks about it, but they literally greet each other like 2000s scene kids who just found out what a "glomp" is.
My ultimate point is I think Kinkajou and Qibli's personalities bounce off each other in a very compelling way already as friends, and find the idea of them as a romance interesting largely because I don't think it would change much of their chemistry. I think they already feel very natural from what we're shown of them (although a lot of the non-ship dynamics in arc 2 are vastly underutilized due to how fractured everyone in the winglet is through the series to begin with) and I think they're sweet due to how much I think they can understand each other. They're interesting parallels that doesn't really get to shine in a lot of books due to the pacing of Arc 2 nor in fan works due to how people don't really read much into Kinkajou and choose to take her as just sort of a flat comic relief.
Also Kinkajou likes tortured guys <3
#wings of fire#wof#kinkajou#kinkajou wof#qibli#qibli wof#qiblijou#kinkabli#jade winglet polycule#I don't usually post like SHIPPING shipping content idk what tags y'all use#meta#analysis#god i haven't longposted in ages I don't remember my own tags...
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Chapter Thirty-Nine — The Warm Hands of Ghosts
Everyone was hooked up to tubes, IVs or cannulas hanging from their body as they got the treatment necessary to keep them comfortable. How long would it be till I was hooked up to wires?
3.6k words | 13-17 min read time | TRIGGER WARNING: Hospital, illness, fuck them OCs, hyp...notism?
⚠️AUTHOR'S NOTE: once again, thank you @lobotomizedlemon for giving me god's greatest disappointment to man. I would kill for Sia. And to @infamoussparks for letting Rosa be Bad News Bear here!
To the other person that's been patiently waiting for this moment for over a year (I checked the PMs! We started talking about this last July!) — I love you.
I thought palliative care meant something for kids, like pediatrics.
I had no idea it basically meant making people comfortable enough to suffer.
Now, to be fair, that wasn’t all the wing did; it actually seemed really cozy, in a strange way—or as comfortable as an in-patient hospital wing could be. Stock photographs of nature littered the blank walls between room doors, and the doors that were open revealed blued rooms decorated with white furniture, picture frames of family pinned to the walls and personal belongings all around the room. There was one old lady with a bed covered in fuzzy pink pillows, another had dozens of plants on the windowsill in theirs. Everyone was hooked up to tubes, IVs or cannulas hanging from their body as they got the treatment necessary to keep them comfortable.
How long would it be till I was hooked up to wires?
I tried to shake the thought out of my head, following Aunt Sia and Dr. Sims deeper into the wing, the both of them tensely silent. Whatever crowds were in front of us parted with Aunt Sia’s stomps and stayed staring at Dad; I know I’d probably do the same, if I saw some woman in a blazer with spikes glued to the shoulder and chains decoratively falling from it leading Delsin Rowe and Eugene Sims down a hall.
We probably looked like the world’s strangest funeral procession.
The hall jutted right, and we moved with it, all the way to where the light the windows let in couldn’t reach. The last door on the right had stuff plastered on it, and it took till being right at the door to realize they were warnings. “‘Wear mirror glasses provided upon shift assignment,’” Brent read aloud, staring at the clipart picture of the black ski goggles like they were runes before looking at me, eyebrows raised.
Dr. Sims reached into his jacket’s pocket to pull out a handful of black disposable glasses, the sort that Reese came to school in after an eye procedure. “Here, put these on,” he instructed, beginning to pass them out.
Aunt Sia instead pulled a pair of modified steampunk-looking goggles, slipping them over her eyes and then regarding Dad, Brent and I individually. “Listen—keep those on.” She stressed. “I know this Conduit personally. They may seem like they’re not fully there, but that doesn’t make them any less powerful. And, hey—it’s them. They, them.”
“What the hell do you two have me walking into?” Dad tried to joke, looking between the childhood besties. Neither laughed.
“Let’s get in the room first,” Dr. Sims muttered, trying to position the blackened glasses over his own. I followed their lead, trying to fit the awkwardly flimsy film over my nose before looking up at everyone and nodding, feeling like an idiot. What sort of power did I need to wear glasses against? Maybe this was one of the light Conduits Zeke talked about.
The inside of the room was adorned in pink and green. I think that was the first thing that shocked me—the brightness of the room. The wood and dull blue visitor’s chair was covered by a strawberry quilt freckled in green squares, there were little succulents on the dresser across from the bed. There were long, sheer green scarfs hung over the curtain rods in their own protest against the sterile-hospital white, and an old stuffed fox sat slouched over on the windowsill like it was trying to get the sun to hit a specific spot on its lower back.
And the bed. It was still a stiff and uncomfortable looking hospital bed, but someone tried making it anything but. A large, fluffy blush pink down comforter was draped over the too-small bed, engulfing the small form that was laid in it. Their arm laid over a green rectangular throw pillow, IV embedded in the hand lying listless on top. They stared off into a corner of the room but it…didn’t look intentional. It didn’t look like much was behind the stare at all. Wires fell from the sleeves of their shirt to the bed around them, the steady thrum of a heartbeat monitor puncturing the silence with its rhythm.
The red-headed doctor, Hutch, was there, looking closely at the patient’s monitor and only turning when the door was closed. “The nurses aren’t fond of me being here, so we’ll need to be quick.” she said.
Dr. Sims huffed. “Why not?”
“Considering I usually don’t stray far from pediatrics, they see me as overstepping.” Dr. Hutch responded.
Aunt Sia wasted no time in closing the gap between her and the patient in the bed, one hand going to hold the one laying on the pillow while the other touched their frayed braid, looking for a hair tie that was no longer there. “Hey, sweet pea,” she hummed softly like a mother at a cradle, fingers brushing knots out of their long reddish brown hair. They barely moved, not acknowledging Aunt Sia with a look or with words.
Brent, ever so tactful, decided now would be the perfect time to ask, “So what’s wrong with them?”
“Dude!” I hissed.
“What? I’m just asking–”
“I know them.” Dad’s voice was soft as the statement passed his lips. I couldn’t see his eyes, but his brows were knit so close together and furrowed that they started disappearing behind his film glasses. He looked at the back of Aunt Sia’s head, who stopped combing through their hair. “Why does it feel like I know them?”
Aunt Sia sighed, moving her hand away from their hair to gently cup their face, thumb running along their jaw. Another move they didn’t react to. “Garrett, Delsin’s here—remember him?”
Something shifted in Dad, and his shoulders visibly sagged. “Garrett?” he asked. “That’s Garrett?”
I glanced at Brent, who was already facing my way with an eyebrow raised. Who was this person? Why did Dad look so shocked, so sad, to see Garrett in that bed?
“I apologize,” Dr. Hutch cautiously chimed in. “But…if you don’t mind…”
She left the question open ended, looking across the bed to Aunt Sia, who nodded after a pause. “You’ve got my permission,” she said, letting her hand fall from Garrett’s face to instead take their hand in both of hers.
Dr. Hutch reached out, resting her hand on the bare skin of Garrett’s bicep, glancing between where they met and the small vial in her other hand. Why did she ask Aunt Sia if she could examine Garrett? They looked almost the same age. I thought you only needed someone’s permission for hospital stuff if you were still a kid.
Dr. Hutch’s lips moved silently as she counted to herself, looking between the tube of black tar and the air around Garrett. We stood in tense silence as the seconds passed, Dr. Hutch’s face grew from studious, to sad, to worried before she pocketed the vial and looked at Dad. “May I check Jean one more time?” she asked him.
It took Dad a moment to force his head to turn away from the bed to look back at me. He motioned forward, a silent beckon to go to the doctor, and I listened, swapping my dominant hand for my left at the last second so she wouldn’t have to worry about my cast.
Dr. Hutch took my hand, staring straight at me in such an uncomfortable way that I let my eyes fall to the ground, listening to the little puffs of air she let off with every silent count and subconsciously counting with her. She hit ten, and I raised my head to watch her stare at the air around me before clearing her throat, letting go of both Garrett and I. “Dr. Sims, if I may have a moment with you?” She asked, motioning towards the door. He nodded, passing Brent to head out while Dr. Hutch looked between Dad and I. “I hope you find what you’re looking for,” she said genuinely. Her mouth opened like she wanted to say more, but she faltered, instead giving us both a nod before moving around me to leave the room.
The door closing seemed to activate something in Dad, because he spun around to look at Aunt Sia, and while I couldn’t see his eyes, his jaw was tense. “You didn’t think to warn me about who we were going to see before coming here?” He asked Aunt Sia.
She seemed a bit miffed. “Well, considering you left without telling them goodbye, I just figured you two weren’t all that close.”
Dad immediately bristled. “I didn’t have a choice,” he retorted, eyes aflame. “You know that.”
Brent, deciding to diffuse whatever was about to happen, slightly raised his hand like he was in class, asking without waiting, “So, who exactly is this?”
Dad glanced back, eyes hesitating on where I stood in the meantime, and seemed to remember we were in the room with him. “They’re…They were a therapist of mine, I guess.” He said. “After your mom…we were hunkered down in Seattle for about two months while the government tried to fight my enrollment into witness protection during the trials. They tried to help me.”
So the person in the bed was his…therapist?
Dad turned to look at Aunt Sia again, who grabbed the bedside chair to scoot it closer to Garrett. “What happened, though?”
She sighed. “Curdun happened,” she said at first, as if that explained everything. But then she readjusted, flicking a corner of the quilt off of her leg as it fell with her movement. “They’d been bad for a while. It started maybe a year after you left? They…they tried toughing it out on their own for a while, but it got worse, so much worse. They called me about seven years ago asking if I’d help them. Make sure they were taken care of before this happened.”
“That’s why you left.” Dad realized. Seven years ago, this person asked for her help. Seven years ago, she moved. “You said you were leaving to oversee COLE openings on the east coast.”
“I was.” Aunt Sia said. “But I also needed to be here to help with their care. They needed someone to sign off on documents when they…” she motioned at them in the bed, the unfocused eyes and slack jaw.
Dad’s head shook, and he almost seemed annoyed at the lack of answers. “This—they have conducrinopathy. Like Jean. What caused that?”
“When they were in Curdun, they were given an implant right—” Aunt Sia raised a hand somewhere near her temple, “—around here. It completely hindered their powers while they were in there, and stayed in after they got out.”
“You can do that?” Brent asked, genuinely shocked.
“Augustine figured out how.” Aunt Sia responded curtly, tension in her voice. “It may not have worked fully, but it worked well enough. They weren’t able to do anything to the normal degree of their power.”
Dad had slowly begun to shake his head in the middle of Aunt Sia’s sentence, like he didn’t agree with her despite her conviction. “No, that doesn’t make sense,” he muttered. “Garrett, they—I knew them after Curdun. Their powers were working fine then!”
“You saw who they were after the implant failed to keep them powerless,” Aunt Sia said softly. “But it did something, and they started getting bad. They…we thought the implant just affected their motor skills for a bit, and then they started forgetting. Seeing things. Eugene was the first to suggest it might be conducrinopathy. We’ve been trying to figure it out since.”
Dad opened his mouth to speak, and was instead immediately interrupted by Dr. Sims reentering the room, followed by a snow-covered and eyeglass-wearing Zeke. Dad’s mood immediately shifted, something Zeke could sense as well as he went on the offensive. “We’ve got news vans pulling up right now,”
“What?” Dad hissed, brushing past Brent and moving to the window on my left. He pressed his face against the glass, head swinging both ways before he cursed under his breath. “Can’t see shit,”
“The main entrance is to the southwest,” Dr. Sims grumbled, evidently not excited about being cornered at a hospital again. “We need to start putting a face mask on you when we’re in public, Delsin.”
Aunt Sia sighed. “It probably doesn’t help that we’re both here as well, Eugene.” She reminds him. “There’s a lot of animosity for us right now, too.”
Not to mention me.
I let my head hang, looking at the patterns in the flooring as Dad asked, “What’s going on, you two? Why are we here? What happened to Garrett?”
There was a pause as Dr. Sims and Aunt Sia looked at each other, having some sort of silent conversation on who should actually answer Dad’s question. It seemed Dr. Sims lost the mental game of rock-paper-scissors, as he cleared his throat and said, “When I started the conducrinopathy study a few years ago, Jorrer was already showing symptoms of Lewy-Body dementia—but there were some preceding symptoms that were worrisome. We could never get many answers on why or how…until now.”
Aunt Sia turned when he said that, and Dad glanced between the two of them. “What do you mean?”
“We didn’t know if Garrett’s conducrinopathy was caused by their disease, or the implant, or somehow both. And with them being the only other prime Conduit to experience it, we needed to see if their manifestations were related in any way.” Dr. Sims paused, moving to cross his arms. “Dr. Hutch was able to confirm that, whatever it is in the tar that made Jean sick is what made Jorrer ill too.”
“What?” Aunt Sia whispered, aghast.
Dad shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
Dr. Sims reached into the pocket of his top coat, pulling out that goddamn vial of tar. “The aural signatures on this match both Jean and Jorrer.”
“That can’t—” Aunt Sia struggled with her words for a moment. “Garrett was never injected with anything. What do you mean their illness is related to the tar?”
Dad scoffed. “Augustine’s really at the center of this.” He began to pace, running a hand over his face before spinning around to face Dr. Sims. “Is that why those assholes broke her out of Curdun?”
“We still know nothing about the implant they were given,” Dr. Sims reminded them both. “We can’t examine it without extensive surgery that I’m not even sure Jorrer would survive—“
“An implant?” Zeke looked at Dr. Sims like that word mattered, obviously trying to grapple with information past.
Dr. Sims’ brow furrowed. “Yes, when—when Jorrer was in custody with the DUP, they placed an implant in their brain. We assumed for the longest time that that’s what caused their decline—”
“Did nobody plan on telling me about any of this?” Dad demanded, looking angered.
“When Cole was snatched up by Moya, she was going to put an implant in his head.” Zeke said. “He said DARPA wanted to control him and his powers.”
“They what?” Aunt Sia nearly demanded as Dad decided that was a good enough statement to give Zeke attention, turning to actually face the man.
“Do you know anything else?” Dr. Sims asked, moving to set the vial of tar on the overbed table to my left and instead pull out his phone. I barely caught him opening his notes app before he left to stand next to Zeke, beginning to fire questions at a rapid pace.
Everyone kept talking over each other, the sound more like arguing than trying to solve whatever mystery was at their hands. Brent was falling silent on my side, and I couldn’t blame him—especially as we both looked at Garrett Jorrer. God, was that going to be me? Trapped in a bed and held down by tubing, not able to acknowledge the world around me?
Well, no, that wasn’t true; as Dad and the other adults got a bit loud trying to talk over each other, I watched Garrett shift, readjust like they wanted to move away from the sound. Dr. Sims said something about them having dementia, right? I didn’t really get how it worked, but…there was still a person under there. They could have lucid moments, I was sure of it. Maybe it just needed a little prompting.
I moved to step forward, Brent shooting out a hand to grab me by the arm and whisper, “The fuck are you doing?”
“They’ve gotta know something,” I murmured back, glancing over at the adults; they were all standing in a circle, more concentrated on whatever Dr. Sims was pulling up on his phone than us. “I’m gonna see if they can tell me anything.”
“They’re drooling on their shirt.” He deadpanned. “You really think they’re gonna answer any questions for you?”
I shrugged off his hold. “If what Dr. Sims said is true, they’ve been sick for a while. And if it happened in Curdun? Whatever made them sick would have happened before Mom’s, even if it took longer for them to show it. They’ve gotta know something.”
“We don’t know if Mom had the same sickness you did,” Brent hissed back in a whisper. “It’s not like we can test her.”
“No, but—” I cut off, “Process of elimination here, Brent. Every forced Conduit from Curdun ends up sick, two normal Conduits end up sick—and then I end up sick after meeting Augustine? There’s a common denominator.”
I kept his gaze, unwavering; he had to admit it was weird. It was! Something was going on and Augustine was at the core of it. Brent’s jaw flexed but he let me go, seeming entirely uncomfortable with the idea but relenting nonetheless. I broke from the place Dr. Hutch left me in and got closer to the bed, crouching beside it.
And I faltered, because I had no idea how to even start shooting questions at someone so cognitively impaired.
Garrett’s head was turned away from the noise now, staring indiscriminately at the floor beside me. They looked…uncomfortable, and I could imagine why. I actually felt pretty bad trying to pull something out of them when they were obviously hating how many people were in the room at the moment. “Hi,” I decided to say, keeping my voice soft. A greeting was the best way to start, right? Probably an introduction too. “I-I’m Jean.”
Nothing.
My mouth grappled on air for a second as I tried to find more words. “I…I don’t know if you can really understand me right now, but you might know what’s wrong with me. With us. And if you can…if you can tell us anything about it, that would really help.”
Nothing.
I looked over at Dad, who was busy trying to pull more answers about Garrett’s past from Aunt Sia and Dr. Sims, head swiveling over to Zeke as he asked if he knew more about DARPA. I hated seeing it. I hated knowing that we were both unknown variables treated like volatile solutions that would explode if jostled. Maybe they hated it too. “Look, you were in Curdun Cay, right? My—Alessia said something about an implant. And there’s some doctor here who thinks that whatever made me sick did it to you, too.”
I turned, grabbing the vial from their rolling table and putting it in their line of vision. I didn’t want everyone talking about what was going on with them without involving them. It was unfair. I know I hated it.
The tar in the vial moved like syrup—and I watched Garrett as their eyes tracked it. They were starting to understand something, I just needed to keep pushing. “This is what was put in me,” I continued, a bit more feverish now. Did lucidity in these sorta patients have a timer? “Augustine put it in me, and I think she did the same to you. She—” I reached out with my dominant hand and took theirs gently, letting them feel the awkward press of my cast’s lattice. “She did this, do you—”
“Jean!” Dad snapped, making me jolt in place, “What are you doing?”
I blinked, confused; everyone was now turned to look at me and, aside from Brent, they all looked…scared? “I’m…” I drew off, glancing between Dad and Aunt Sia, who had started to walk towards the bed with her hands out like she was placating a wild animal. “I’m just trying to talk to them, see if—”
I wasn’t prepared for the yank on my arm.
Garrett’s fingers laced around my wrist and pulled me forward, the move sending me sprawling forward as I lost balance on the balls of my feet. With one hand pinned in theirs and the other holding glass, I had to use my elbow to brace my fall, the jostle enough to light up a nerve hiding in the crevices of my bone and send the film glasses fluttering off of my face. I followed their fall, eyes only peeling away to look at the white-knuckled grip Garrett had on my wrist before glancing up, blood running cold when I saw how hard Garrett was staring at me.
Their eyes were this marbled blue, the sort of hue you expect a diamond to actually be, and the moment I met them, everything around me ceased to exist. The pain from my funny bone disappeared, Aunt Sia yelling my name left—all that existed was that blue.
The shade spread, tunneling my vision into the icy hue before the edges turned platinum, and I lost all sense of where I was.
Love you @neverdewitt
#infamous second son#infamous erosion#delsin rowe#jean posting#brent posting#Gab get outta the tags I'm not spoiling shit here#what else do i tag this with when I can't have spoilers#uh#finally got back on antidepressants here's hoping i enjoy writing again lol#oh right i usually throw in#sucker punch productions#used to publish every two weeks now I don't even remember my tags lmfao#fuck it wii sports
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people can use this site however they want but there's something almost- idk, sad? about how few people are actually using their blogs. you can turn themes on and have skeletons dancing in the background. you can make everything hot pink. your blog is your scrapbook and you can put whatever you want in there. tags are okay at organizing things so you can have just a whole archive of cool shit to look at later. i know people complain a lot about people liking stuff about reblogging for engagement, and on one hand i get that- it is WILD to see a drawing i spent hours on get only 12 reblogs and 60 likes. Absolute culture shock compared to my previous fandoms. but i don't think you should reblog anything to make artists happy. i think you should reblog things so you can find them again. i think you should queue things to appear on the dash at specific times on certain days. i think you should reblog things so when you're talking to your friends about xyz post you saw you can look in your blog's archive and find it again. i think you should reblog things so that your dash is filled with one really sleepy cat. with the loss of reblogs there's the loss of engagement, which Does hurt the community-focus that makes tumblr so appealing, but idk i just wish people were more excited about the incredible amount of customization that tumblr allows and took advantage of that more
#if you're ever nervous about reblogging stuff just remember that people can always turn off reblogs#and also pls theme your tumblrs after silly fish or weird cube people or dnd#just anything that's fun to you have fun!!!#this is the silly cringe website please join us and be silly and cringy#i need to go to bed i think#but i also keep thinking about how i enjoy myself the most on this website when people reblog things from me and add commentary#comments/replies are great sure but they really bring the conversation to a halt and doesn't allow anyone else to chime in#idk some of my fave followers are the people who only like stuff#but when there are *only* people liking things it really feels like you're just yelling into a complete void#and then it's harder to find more content for things you like too#because the people you follow aren't reblogging things youd like to see#i have to delve into the main tag for my fandom content a lot because the people i follow are usually just making og posts#maybe i just need to find people who reblog things more but idk#i love it when fandoms become little communities but it feels like that's been stifled recently#which is what my actual gripe is i think#maybe ill delete this in the morning maybe not im just full on rambling at this point#getting a lot of likes feels like twitter validation#and reblogs feels like 'im putting this cool thing up on my very big fridge'#i don't want a popularity contest i just want to share cool shit >:c
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reading dungeon meshi
#random thoughts#it has the kind of plot i hate where you retread the same plot point repeatedly while making progress elsewhere#like hi falin bye falin#like i cared about them finding falin. then they found her. and now she's gone again.#i don't like marcille but in like. a compelling way. she's my favorite archetype of character who is specifically female for some reason?#lady who thinks her way is the right way and she's morally right and therefore everyone else is wrong#high conscientiousness with low openness to experience. see themselves as agreeable dutiful and restrained while not being any of that#they tend to take on moralistic causes but they usually don't have a defined reason for WHY they're doing it so it just comes off as preachy#and the narrative tends to take their side with no basis in why#like when marcille tried to prove herself with the mandrakes and put everyone in danger and senshi conceded he was ALSO in the wrong???#and even marcille was like 'that wasn't my point at all'#that entire chapter made me mad it was so good#it's also doing that thing i hate when a piece of media introduces too many characters at once#like who's who what's what who is important who should i remember#i love the detail put into the cooking sessions!!!#i love how all the characters are so fucked up and not even in plot-important ways#like chilchuck's cowardice is very important to the plot but senshi was straight-up willing to let a man die for his flavorful cooking lmao#laios is. my man. i need him carnally.#i get that the whole 'got eaten by dragon' thing was not meant to be the Whole Plot but i feel like the background plot is just not my thing#either that or it wasn't set up in a compelling enough way?#idk. im still reading#all in all i think dungeon meshi might just not be my thing? plot-wise i mean. i love the characters and the general premise#of monster biology and environmentalism and cooking and augh#i don't like how everytime senshi corrects marcille on something so far he ends up going 'i guess i also need to learn a thing or two'#like on the mandrakes? the man has FIELD EXPERIENCE he was entirely in the right to prefer his method!!!#and on the environment thing? first of all marcille's whole thing is building artificial dungeons she SHOULD care about the food chain#SECOND OF ALL telling marcille she shouldn't kill so many fishmen isn't playing GOD or whatever#that kraken was a fucking. extenuating circumstance. it was literally there just to make marcille's argument credible#animals killing each other through the food chain is different from marcille using what is essentially a rocket launcher#god i ran out of tags. peace and luv bruvs 🤟 kind of have a hate crush on marcille now. need her
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oc time!!!!
#hai#i don't think ive ever talked about my ocs before#so here they are in fancy outfits#not what they usually wear but#that's what i wanted to draw#on the left is violet (she/her) and on the right is finny (she/they)#i haven't posted my art in. a very long time#also sorry this isn't pokemon but if i make art might as well post it on main where more people can see#the thing with my art is that since i post so rarely you can very clearly see the improvement if you go through the tag#which sounds like a good thing but is actually horrifying because my old art is. not good#now im not saying this is perfect but it is at least a little better than what i've posted before#at least i think so.#i don't really remember what ive posted before besides some serena drawings??#anyway#mew.jpg#mews ocs#<-made a tag just in case but i don't really think im gonna use it because im shy
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4th ECT session yesterday. Two more to go. The first one made my brain feel like a shuffled deck of cards, by now it feels like holey cheese. I can't remember half my life for the last few months, I can't remember half my current hyperfixation book, I have no memory of reading any of the fics I've bookmarked the last two weeks, I keep forgetting what year and month and day of the week it is. I keep forgetting words. I don't feel connected to anything in my life. Just an electron adrift in the vast.
This some Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind shit. Maybe how it works is you can't be depressed if you can't remember what you're depressed about. Amnesia fics are ruined for me forever. By next week I might go full-on Bourne Identity.
Never doing this again thanks very much.
(Just to be clear though, it's nothing like the ableist Cuckoo's Nest movie stuff. All I ever remember is the sedative being administered through the cannula and then being told to get down off the bed and wheeled into the ward. Don't even remember falling asleep. The most I've gotten is a slight headache afterwards.)
#electroconvulsive therapy#mental health#actually bipolar#amnesia#knee of huss#I don't remember what tags I usually use for these posts#aaaargh
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Having a post get popular enough to be independently reblogged by someone you follow but aren't mutuals with is. Wild
#yes it was the sex poll obvs#given the person is a minor i'm very glad they picked answer one lmao#like i do think minors in general are allowed to want and even have sex (with each other obvs) but when it's a minor i personally follow it#would just make me feel pretty weird lmao. like on a personal level ya feel? i mean when u reach an even closer level it becomes not weird#again like my dear friend ness (17yo) who afaik doesn't actually HAVE any sex but occasionally wants to and i support her hot girl summer.#but as stated this person barely knows i exist i just follow his blog (i used they earlier but this was incorrect but tumblr won't let me e#edit the tag 😔) and he's 16yo so seeing him talk about wanting and/or having sex would have been. uncomfortable. like obvs he'd be allowed#to because my personal discomfort is no indication of morality but you get it. like if my big little cousin (she's 15 now by god the years#don't stop coming) were to talk about sex and stuff to me or within earshot i would ummm. throw myself out the window? but like i'd still t#try to be supportive and if push comes to shove then yes i would give her condoms 😔 cuz like if a minor wants sex i will not be able to sto#stop them lmao but i can at least try and make it somewhat safe y'know#actually i remembered i have literally given a 15yo a condom before lmao she's prolly over 20 now but like as the adult dormmate it was alm#almost like a responsibility y'know like what do you want me to DO?? let her get pregnant?? anyway enough tangent lmao#btw all this is also why in the poll i included 'too young' but didn't specify an age cuz that's individual y'know. some people are p late#bloomers (i was one) while others choose to have consensual sex by 14 y'know. not something i like to think about but that doesn't mean it#won't happen ya feel. i mean what am i the american education system? lmao. so some ppl have interpreted being 17 as too young but there's#also folks like this who clearly consider 16 old enough and that's defo ppl's good right. and again i usually don't mind just the fact that#he in particular is someone i already knew made it uncomfy. but anyway yea back on topic it's very interesting in general when your post#gets big enough to independently make it to ur dash thru a non mutual lmao. love the hellsite honestly where else amirite#personal#mine#ok to rb ig#like the actual body of the post anyway. i'd be pretty uncomfy if said person saw my tags on this cuz y'know it's kind vagueing even if it'#not negative but anyway. anyway#*kinda
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bitches hate me 'cause im in my no fucks given era, and I'm like, 'stay mad darling'
#ice speaks#irl stuff#rant in the tags#moved into our new place a few weeks back#and had a big ass celebration after blessing the house#when an old family friend who used to babysit me told me that I've grown very big#and thats true#since we haven't seen each other since I was 10 (am 18 now)#but then my aunt just had to go and remark on my weight#keep in mind im a plus sized person and I was wearing a dress that day#and i said 'well as long as I'm healthy and happy who cares' without missing a beat#which shocked everyone because im not usually the confrontational type#i.e i just keep my mouth shut cause i genuinely don't see a reason to grace their taunts with a response#and im respectful to my elders usually#but i said it while smiling and putting on such an innocent face#that she had to agree with me and apologize in front of the 20+ people who were in the room#since she basically insulted one of the stars of the evening#she kept glaring at me after that#like maam look after your dumpster fire of a family before trying to talk shit about ME to MY FACE#you don't know that i remember what you talk about around me thinking I'm not paying attention or I wont understand what you're talking abo#also love how people think that out of everyone in my family I'm the most gullible and easily influenced#just because i dont react to what comes out of your mouth doesn't mean I am not paying attention#i may be quiet but that just means I'm more observant#on a much happier note i got a lot of compliments for my outfit and my hair#and i have a designated writing and reading spot which is making me more efficient and slowly curing my writers block
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#koi talks#I will admit we sometimes go into syscourse tags just to see what's happening over there#however it just leaves us feeling so so tired#we all have way bigger problems and I literally cannot be asked to keep up#like omg who cares#we're traumagenic* and I can tell you we don't care#(* we don't really like labeling ourselves like that we don't find it helpful)#whether they just 'don't remember' or legitimately created their system who cares !#it feels so so similar to queer discourse#*grabbing your shoulders gently* look at me. listen.#they're after all of us#they don't like any of us they don't accept any of us#splitting us up into ''real systems'' and ''fake systems'' is only going to get us farther in the short-term#but if/when we get disordered systems widely accepted where will the rest of us be?#where will the systems who like being systems be left? where will we go?#it's not all sunshine and rainbows fucking obviously#but personally? at our core we were created to protect and comfort a baby going through unstable and unsafe times#we're family whether we like it or not and we don't want to lose each other#idk where I was going with this honestly#we call ourselves neutral bc we don't have time to care usually#but we also stay away from people who don't want 'pro-endos' interacting just bc#we're very much radically inclusive that's basically what I'm saying#as long as you're not actively hurting anyone do whatever you want forever
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omg i love your icon so much <3
Hi!! 😀
Oh my, thank you so much, I made it aaaaaaages ago, like literal years! I was taking a glance at my icons page the other day when I saw it, and what better occasion than now to use it again?! (also I miss Miranda, like a lot 🥺)?!
#jackandmaxanne#belay that reply!#lololol not me going through my blog to check what tag I used for replies 🤦#I don't remember as I would usually out it in my language “una cippa/fava/mazza/cespola” choose your fighter 😝#as to say I don't remember a thing to put it elegantly 😅 (and those terms are already mild they are not even swear words 😁)#not that it matters to anyone but me but I like things with a resemblance of organization what can I do 🤷♂️#hey I remember you btw!!! ☺️ so glad there are fans from the “good ol' days” (when the show was still airing - and also after that ofc)#who are still here! Ok sorry for this comment out of the blue anyway - I've just come back to tumblr after quite some time#and seeing “familiar faces” around here makes me excited! 😁 Thanks again for the message! 💙
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"Don't worry, I got you." - Fictober 2023 Original Fic: The Black Witch Rating: T Warnings: non-graphic child abuse, thoughts of self-harm, panic attack
Something about this place makes her hands itch. Makes her want to take her gloves off and scratch, and pick, and peel her skin off. Something, anything, to justify the not-quite-pain in her palms and across the backs of her hands.
It takes Blair taking one of her hands and holding it between both of her own for Quinn to realize she's been tracing the shapes of her scars over her glove.
Across the back of her left hand, where it's the worst.
She makes herself laugh a little, wiggling the fingers of her captured hand and stretching and curling the fingers of her free one. "Sorry. I'm okay. Not sure what that was."
Blair's expression doesn't change, really. Her eyes maybe soften a bit, in concern, perhaps. She doesn't let go of Quinn's hand. "They thought we'd have the same kind of magic. That you were just slow." Her voice isn't strained, exactly, but it has a very distinct sort of 'holding back' tone to it. "This is where they tried to force you to make a spark, or flame, or a goddamn wildfire."
And suddenly, the hands holding hers are too much, the proximity is too much, eye contact is too--
She tears her hand free, holds it close to her chest protectively, gingerly, as--
Pain.
It's all she can think about. All she can feel.
Gasping, hunching her shoulders and shrinking away from the presence in front of her, even as something inside her shrieked that that was the wrong move wrong reaction don't let them see how much it hurts how scared you are--
A voice. Not quite soft, but not harsh, not angry. It takes ... a while ... for the sound of speech to register as words.
"Hey, hey. Quinn."
Shushing noises. She sees hands in front of her, not touching, not grabbing. Just ... present.
"With me now?"
She traces the hands with her eyes, keeps her own hands to herself, cradled in front of her. Follows the hands to wrists, to arms, to shoulders and torso. Finally manages to look up, meet blue eyes with her own.
Blair smiles, and this is soft, gentle. "Don't worry, I got you. They're never gonna touch you again."
#pepsi writes#fictober23#thoughts of self-harm#panic attack#non-graphic child abuse#like more allusion than anything I think#The Black Witch#Blair Devlin#Quinn Devlin#....I really hope I'm like. rating right#I feel a lil dumb saying that but like#!!#I don't usually rate my work#& fuck it's been a min since I've written/posted my writing so like#I don't remember what tags I usually use#do I usually use 'panic attack cw'?#idk!#but okay it's now like 3:30#posting now & hoping for the best xP
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