#i was so shocked at how viscerally I felt that

[ultravi0lence14]

GET FREE

SAM WINCHESTER X DOE!READER

WARNINGS: meg!sam angst, hurt/comfort, smut (MDNI), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), grinding

SUMMARY: after the shock of meg taking over sam’s body, he yearns to show you how much he cares for you.

WC: 1.4k

the air in the room is tense, a strong mist that takes over both yours and sam’s senses. the events from earlier were still fresh in your mind, and you honestly didn’t know how to feel.

it wasn’t sam, you kept telling yourself, a mantra playing over and over in your skull. he’s a good man, he was possessed.

but his mean eyes, the way he gripped onto your hair so tightly while he thrusted the knife against your throat. it was all so visceral, a feeling you never thought you’d experience from sam. his usual kind, gentle loving self had gone completely awry. the demonic entity you knew as meg taking over his being and making him cruel.

even now, as he sat beside you on the bed in one of bobby’s guest rooms, you could feel that distance that you oh so desperately wanted to have from him. you loved him, you really did, but after what just happened, you didn’t know how long it would take before you could be around him.

though sam was a determined man when it came to his girl, and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure that you knew he wasn’t going to treat you like that ever again; that he would never treat you like that under his own management.

“baby,” he murmured, fingers dusting against your shoulder as he tested out if you wanted to be touched or not. “look at me, please.”

slowly, you turn your head towards his stare, looking into the sorrow filled eyes of the man you loved. he was so broken, so upset with how everything had gone. but mostly, he was angry. angry that meg made you feel scared of him. angry that because of a demon, he needed to remind his girlfriend about the love he harboured for her in his dna.

a sniffle could be heard from where you sat, a lone tear falling down your cheek. “i’m sorry sam” you choked out, feeling his hand tighten on your shoulder.

“why are you sorry?” he demands softly, bringing his hands to cradle your face. “i should be sorry. i allowed her in, allowed her to treat you like that.”

all you could muster was a small shake of your head, gripping sam’s wrists weakly. “i’m sorry because i’m making you feel like this is your fault.” your words came out blubbery, tears mixing in with your flushed cheeks. “it’s not, sam. none of this was your doing. i’m just shaken is all, i swear.”

“you’ve done no such thing.” me murmured, leaning forward and leaving a lingering kiss on your forehead. his mouth went on to travel to the slopes of your nose, leaving light, delicate kisses wherever he could reach. those kisses than moved to your cheeks, touches like feathers brushing against your smile lines. it wasn’t until he smashed his lips against yours that you felt the unbridled passion, the longing for you to feel okay after the torment you endured at his hands.

sam’s body moved so he was kneeling on the floor at your feet, hands clutching yours shaking as he peppered kiss after kiss to your knuckles and palms.

“i’m sorry,” he breathed, head lifting up with a watery puppy dog look. your hands had threaded in his hair, holding his head in place as you caressed his scalp. “please sweet girl, let me show you how sorry i am.”

no verbal response came from your lips, a shy smirk coming in it’s wake. your hands cradling sam’s face moved to his chest, lightly pushing him back until he leaned onto his palms, legs spread wide and lap oh so inviting.

tentatively, you slipped your hands to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and revealing your lace bra. sam didn’t speak, he just watched, mouth agape, as you unclipped the material, your breasts fully on display to his eyes. you then moved to your pants, slowly sliding them down your legs and throwing them somewhere in the room. the baby pink panties you wore had sam groaning, his hands grappling at your calves and begging you to join him on the floor.

the tap of your finger on sam’s shoulder indicated you wanted his shirt to go. with quick fingers, sam’s shirt was flying in the same direction as your pants, looking up at you with wide, expectant eyes.

you couldn’t bare to see him pout any longer; as pretty as he looked, so with wobbly knees, you lowered yourself from the edge of the bed, resting yourself into sam’s lap.

in an instant, sam’s hands were on you. one arm around your waist while the other found purchase nestled deeply in your hair. soft fabric of your panties rubbed against the hard material of sam’s jeans, allowing a slight groan to ripple from your lips.

“that’s it baby,” he groaned in your ear, using his arm around your waist to help you rub slightly against the bulge in his jeans. “get yourself all worked up and ready for me. need you all wet and needy for my cock.” a moan rippled through your lips at his words, and you couldn’t help but grind against him faster as your deft fingers worked quickly on the button and zipper of his pants.

with some help from sam, you both pulled his jeans and boxers halfway down his thighs until his dick sprang free. the look of him barred to you had your mouth watering, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth from the sight of his angry red tip resting close to your covered folds.

the wet patch near your cunt had a soft chuckle leaving sam’s lips, his fingers moving from your hair to move your panties to the side. “already so wet for me, pretty girl.” he cooed, rubbing his dick through your slick. “so wet, so needy.”

your fingers dug deeply into sam’s shoulders as he lined himself up with your entrance, holding your waist and helping you slowly sink down onto his dick. you both let out a conjoined groan at the feeling, small whimpers leaving your lips as sam bottomed out, his girth spreading you open so deliciously.

“fuck, you’re so tight.” sam groaned in your ear, holding your hips tighter as you breathed heavily into the crook of his neck. “move whenever you’re ready, darling girl. i want you to use me, use my dick to make yourself come.”

his words elicited a groan from your parted lips, encouraging you to use the leverage you had on his shoulders to lift yourself up and slowly sink back down on his cock. the slight burn was dizzying, a deep moan rumbling from your chest as sam panted into your shoulder.

the constant push and pull movements had you seeing stars, loud whimpers leaving your lips every time yours and sam’s pelvis’ would collide. the man stayed true to his words, and allowed you to use him in any sense possible. all sam did was breath heavily and groan into your shoulder, deep rumbled of ‘i love you’s’ leaving his lips as he left soft kisses on your collarbone.

digging your fingers into his shoulder blades, angry red crescent shapes from your nails rose onto sam’s skin with each bounce you made on his dick. the air was lucid, and sam used the hand he had nestled in your hair to move your face to his, planing a sloppy kiss on your open, panting mouth.

“i love you so much,” he groaned, the feeling of your orgasm approaching eliciting you to move faster. “come for me baby. cmon, milk my cock.”

his words had you stilling, sam’s tip kissing your cervix as you came all around his dick. the feeling of your come soaking him had a loud groan leaving sam’s lips, his head slumping against your chest as he came himself.

loud pants could be heard throughout the room as you and sam came down from your highs. the man in question finding no need to pull out of your soaked walls as he laid himself down on the floor, grabbing your body so you could rest on top of him.

“i would never hurt you,” he whispered in your ear, stroking your hair as you felt the clutches of sleep cling to your senses. “i was born to make you feel like this, make you feel good and loved down to my last breath.”

TAGS: @starzify @titsout4jackles @floralscented @deansbeer @bluemerakis @haunteres @figthoughts @foolinthera1n @deanangel @whisperingdaze @misatxox

NAT BABBLES: sam smut?? oh we’re so up (everyone thank my sweetie pie cass!!)

[yoojinluv]

[thesecondhandwoman]

Hiii! I wanna make an angst to fluff/comfort request with Sevika x fem!reader.. where like they had an argument about something and where reader thought Sevika was gonna hit her so she flinched away with a bit of tears in her eyes? Like a “when you flinch during an argument scenario���.. I hope this was okay!

BREAKING POINT

Sevika x f!reader

Synopsis: You and Sevika had gotten into an arguement after Sevika was seen as weak due to public affection, but it escalated to the point where it brought unwanted trauma and made you flinch.

Request: Anon 🤍

The dim glow of the single overhead light flickered in the room, casting long, uneven shadows along the cracked concrete walls. The tension between you and Sevika was heavier than the smoke-filled air of The Last Drop. It hung there, thick and unyielding, an invisible wall that neither of you had the words to break down.

Her metal arm clicked softly as she flexed her fingers, her flesh hand pressed firmly against her hip. She was pacing, her eyes darting toward the ground as she wrestled with her thoughts. Every stomp of her boot echoed through the room, each step sharper than the last.

“Do you know how this looks?” Sevika’s voice was rough, strained with frustration she was barely keeping in check. “How it looks when you cling to me like that in front of him?”

Her words hit like a whip crack, and you flinched inwardly. But you kept your chin high, refusing to back down. “I’m not ‘clinging,’ Sevika. I’m just—”

“Just what, huh?” she snapped, spinning to face you, her eyes sharp as broken glass. “Acting like we’re untouchable? Like Silco won’t notice? Well, guess what? He did. He asked me if this—” she gestured harshly between the two of you, her movements sharp and forceful, “—is gonna be a problem. If you are gonna be a problem for me.”

Her words struck deeper than any blade ever could. Your breath hitched in your throat, and the burn of unshed tears prickled at the corners of your eyes.

“You’re acting like I’m some kind of liability,” you muttered, your voice quieter now but laced with pain. “I’m just showing you I love you, Sevika. Since when is that a problem?”

Sevika’s eyes shut tight, her jaw working as she inhaled deeply through her nose. “Since people like Silco see it as weakness.” Her voice was lower now but no less cutting. “You think I want him thinking I’ve gone soft?”

“That’s not fair,” you said, voice trembling. “I’m not asking you to be soft. I’m just asking you to let me love you without feeling like I’m doing something wrong.”

Her eyes snapped open, and something wild burned behind them—anger, frustration, but maybe guilt too. Her hand shot up, metal fingers running down her face before she threw both hands up, exasperated.

Her voice rose with her movement. “Why do you always have to make everything so damn hard?!”

The motion was fast, sharp, and your heart betrayed you before your mind could catch up.

You flinched.

Not just a small, subtle recoil. It was sudden, visceral—like every muscle in your body lit up with the command to move, now, before it’s too late. You stumbled a step back, arms half-raised as if to shield yourself. Your breathing hitched, sharp and shallow, as the memories you’d buried clawed their way to the surface.

And just like that, the room went deathly silent.

You felt it before you saw it—Sevika’s entire demeanor shifting from volcanic rage to stunned stillness. Her arms slowly dropped to her sides, her metal hand twitching, fingers curling inward as if she’d suddenly realized they could hurt.

“Fuck,” she muttered, barely audible. Her eyes were locked on you, wide with something like shock. Horror.

Her gaze darted between your trembling hands and the tears slowly spilling down your cheeks. Her brow furrowed deeply, her lips parting like she wanted to say something but didn’t know how. She took a small, hesitant step toward you, and you flinched again.

“Fuck.” Her voice was louder now, pained and raw. “I’m not, I wasn’t gonna—”

She shook her head hard, like she could physically will the idea out of existence. Her breathing had gone shallow too, her eyes darting around the room like she was looking for a way to undo what had just happened.

“Babe,” she rasped, her voice cracking in a way you’d never heard before. “I would never.”

You believed her. You knew she would never. But that didn’t stop the past from dragging you back into the fog of fear. The panic didn’t care who it was or what you knew. All it cared about was survival.

“I know,” you choked out, voice tight and unsteady as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “I know you wouldn’t. I know.”

But you were still shaking.

And Sevika saw it.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, dragging her metal hand through her hair and down the back of her neck, her whole body stiff with regret. She took a slow step toward you, but she moved like she was approaching a wounded animal—slow, cautious, careful. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Her voice was quiet now, rough with emotion.

Her words cracked something open in you. Your knees went weak, and you sank down to sit on the edge of the old couch, burying your face in your hands. Your breath came in shallow bursts, like you couldn’t fill your lungs no matter how hard you tried.

“Hey, hey, no,” Sevika was in front of you before you realized it, crouching low on one knee, her flesh hand hovering just in front of your arm. She didn’t touch you—not yet—but she stayed there, close enough that you could feel her warmth.

“Can I,” Her voice was soft and unsure in a way you’d never heard before. “Can I touch you?”

You didn’t trust your voice, so you nodded. Slowly, carefully, she reached out, her flesh hand resting on your knee, fingers curling gently around it. Her palm was warm, grounding, and that was all it took to break you.

You sucked in a ragged breath, squeezing your eyes shut as the tears fell harder. Sevika moved then, pulling you forward into her chest, her arms wrapping around you with all the strength she always tried to hide. She pulled you in like she was afraid you’d disappear if she let go.

Her hand cradled the back of your head, her lips pressed softly against your temple. Her chest rose and fell against you in slow, steady beats, and she held you like you were something fragile but precious.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, her voice thick with guilt. “I never want you to feel like that again. Not with me. Not ever with me.”

You sobbed harder, hands clutching the fabric of her vest, pulling her closer like she was your only tether to the world.

“I know, I know,” you hiccuped, your voice broken but sure. “It’s not you. It’s just— it’s old stuff, Sevika.”

Her breath hitched at that. She knew what you meant. She knew that old pain never truly disappeared, that it could creep in when you least expected it. Her arms tightened around you, her cheek pressed to the top of your head, grounding you with her steady presence.

Her lips brushed against your temple, then your forehead, a soft, lingering press of warmth. “I’m here,” she murmured, her voice low and steady. “I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that. Minutes? Hours? Time didn’t feel real anymore. All that existed was the feel of her arms around you, the warmth of her body, the low rumble of her voice murmuring reassurances that you barely heard but deeply felt.

Eventually, the shaking subsided, your breaths becoming deeper, steadier. You stayed in her arms, letting her hold you as if you were both trying to prove something to each other.

After a long, quiet moment, she pulled back just enough to look at you, her flesh hand wiping the tears from your cheeks. Her thumb traced your cheekbone with the softest touch, like she thought you might break.

“You’re not a liability,” she said firmly, her eyes locked with yours, filled with an intensity that made your heart ache. “You hear me? Not to me. Not to Silco. Not to anyone.”

You nodded, your heart too full to speak.

Her forehead pressed against yours, her eyes closing as she sighed deeply. “Next time Silco says something, I’ll handle it,” she said softly. “I’ll handle it. Not take it out on your or us.”

“Okay,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the edge of her jaw.

Sevika tilted her head slightly, brushing her lips against yours. It was so soft, so tender, you almost felt like crying all over again.

“I love you,” she murmured against your lips.

“Love you too,” you whispered back, letting her hold you until the world, past and present, didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

A/N: I’m sorry this is so short, but I hope that it met the request anyway. I was just trying to get this one done, since I have a lot of other requests that I plan on sending out today.

[mallowsweetmiri]

Truth, Dare, or Punishment ~ Fred Weasley

summary: you bitches asked for dom!Fred and you shall receive. a game of truth or dare in the common room goes south when Mclaggen dares you to kiss him

warnings: possessive dom!Fred, smut, cursing

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The night had been going splendid so far. Everyone was way too excited after the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrong to go to sleep, and the older Gryffindors decided to get shitfaced as the perfect solution to their restlessness. After all, there was no quidditch this year to justify throwing common room parties, so you guys had to get creative. The new year brought new witches and wizards to corrupt, and so the twins finally let their baby brother Ron and his year join the fun. It been going well, granted Hermione was drunk off her ass, but Harry had been watching over her well enough. You were also past the point of drunk, and you assumed by their faces that the rest of the group were on their way there. At this point in the night, those who were still awake were circled up playing a filthy game of truth or dare. Angelina had gone to do seven minutes in heaven with George, Neville had eaten a puking pastille, and Ron had madeout with Lavender Brown in a disturbing manner. It was time to spin the bottle again to see who would ask the next question. Hermione giggle and leaned into the circle to spin the bottle. Everyone look around with nervous smiles as it spun around and around, before landing on Cormac McLaggen. You cringed. This was possibly the worst person it could've stopped on. Your body had a visceral reaction when your name left his lips.

"Y/N," he smiled drukenly, "Truth or dare?" You rolled your eyes. Oh, great.

"Truth," you said, grabbing your drink and taking a swig. You were going to need it.

"Who did you lose your virginity to?"

You choked on your drink as the rest of the group murmured at the question, Hermione's jaw dropping before a stream of shocked laughs escaped her. You felt Fred tense up beside you. Your mind raced with the memories of this summer at the Burrow.

"Just like that, Y/N. You're doing so good," Fred praised as he thrusted into you, kissing the crook of your neck while he fucked you. He'd been teaching you how kiss, as a friend of course. He had to help out his dear friend Y/N when she confessed how embarrassed she was that she had never kissed anyone. Never done anything with anyone. From there it had escalated. First, you wanted to know learn to give a blowjob, but soon enough Fred thought it'd be best if you knew what these things felt like too. After a while, you both realized you were terribly obsessed with each other, and one night you decided to let him be the one to take your virginity. He was big, and you were nervous, but he was so sweet about it. Even at the beginning when you thought it wouldn't be able to fit, he was reassuring and gentle with you. But that was at the start, and by now he was fully fucking you on your back, your pussy starting the soften around his cock as pleasure began to ripple through your body. You both came together in a heap of sweat and kisses.

"Y/N," McLaggen sung, waiting for your response.

"I'm not answering that," you coughed, still choking on your drink. The group has set up measure to tell if someone was lying, so you couldn't fake still being a virgin. You supposed the question wasn't that out of pocket, but you couldn't answer it. Nobody knew about you and Fred besides George, and you both wanted to keep it that way. Especially from your families.

"Well then, you know the rules," McLaggen tsked teasingly, "you forfeit to dare."

"What? No, I-"

"Those are the rules Y/N," Hermione cringed, unable to stop herself. McLaggen smirked.

"I dare you to kiss me."

You felt nauseous. McLaggen was disgusting, and the last person you'd ever want to kiss. Unfortunately, you'd brought this onto yourself. You should've known he would dare someone to kiss himself. What a weirdo. The circle groaned and laughed in disgust as McLaggen puckered his lips. You cringed and shifted your weight to lean across the circle. Just as you were about to shuffle over to him, Fred grabbed your wrist and pulled you back. You looked back at him and saw anything but a smile on his usually cheerful face. He spun the bottle and landed it on himself in a hasty motion, still holding onto your wrist tightly.

"McLaggen, I dare you to stop wearing your fucking Ballycastle Bats tighty whities to every single quidditch practice," Fred sneered before yanking you up with him and pulling you towards his dorm. You heard the group go crazy with laughter behind you and hoped it would cover for the fact that Fred just pulled you away from the party. Hopefully George could cover for you two, he should be done with seven minutes by now. Fred dragged you up the stairs without so much as a look in your direction. Once you reach his dorm, he threw open the door. What was happening?

"Fred-" he smashed his lips into yours and shut the door with your body. You gasped as your back hit to wooden surface, Fred pulling your skirt up while his hand gripped your thigh. He used your lifted leg as leverage to grind down into your hips as he pressed you against the door. Your pussy pulsed when you felt him against you, his hands gripping in all the right places. Wait a minute. When did he start kissing you again?

"Fred," you said quickly, pulling away from his mouth. He tried to kiss you again. "Fred, we just left the party. You just dragged me up here when I was supposed to kiss-"

"Don't even say his name," Fred growled, his breathing heavy and hot as he kept his face inches from yours.

"I'm sorry," you whispered out, unable to speak properly. You'd never seen Fred mad before.

"I'm sorry I dragged you," he softened, ducking his head down to kiss your neck, "but I wasn't going to let somebody else kiss you." With that, he began to attack your neck. His left hand came up to grip the back of your head as his tongue and teeth lapped at your sweet spot. You let out whimpered moans as he worked, his fingers gripping you just right. Rougher than usual.

"Freddie," you moaned, grinding yourself onto his leg. You needed more. This man had hooked, and you'd never been so addicted in your life. He picked you up under your legs and carried you to the bed before placing you down on your back. He stood over you, leaving you panting on the bed as he took off his shirt and undid his belt. His eyes were locked on yours. You wanted to look away but you couldn't, his gaze wouldn't let you. When he finished, he rushed towards you again, kissing you deeply as his hand flipped your skirt up. His tongued rammed itself into your mouth, stifling your moans when his fingers grazed over your clit. You blushed as his fingers masterfully moved your panties aside and dipped into your core. Fred laughed into the kiss as he felt you.

"Already so wet for me," he breathed huskily, "are you ready to take me?" His words had you aching. You nodded up at him bashfully. You wanted him so badly. You had turned into such a slut for his cock. "Good girl." He sat up and flipped you over, pulling your panties down as he took off his own pants. He didn't bother to take off your skirt as he pulled you back onto him. You let out a guttural moan as you felt his length stretching you out.

"Fuck, Freddie," you whined as he gripped your hips and began to thrust into you. He was going to leave bruises for tomorrow, but you didn't care.

"You're taking it so good, Y/N" Fred groaned, smacking your ass, "you like getting fucked by me? Huh?" He picked up his pace, pounding into you hard. Your moans were bouncing with the rhythm of his thrusts as he waited for your reply.

"Y-yes, Freddie. I love when you fuck me," you whined, feeling you pussy begin to clench around him. His dick twitched at the feeling and groaned. In one motion, he pulled out and spun you onto your back, pulling your shirt up over your tits and pinning your wrists above your head.

"God, you look so fucking pretty. Can't see your beautiful face while I'm behind you," Fred grunted as he thrust back into you. You moaned and threw you head back. You writhed underneath Fred, his hand constraining your wrists. You desperately needed to grasps something. You were reaching the edge.

"Freddie," you cried, unable to say anything except his name. Your eyes clenched shut as you felt your stomach knot up one final time.

"That's it, baby. Come for me." You could feel his eyes on you as you released yourself around his throbbing cock. As the waves of pleasure began to slow, Fred grunted and became sloppy. He released your hands and buried his face into your neck as he came, pushing himself as deep as he could inside of you. He laid there for a moment before pushing himself off you and pulling you onto his chest. You couldn't help but giggle a little as he kissed your head and rubbed your shoulder.

"You are so jealous," you teased, looking up to see Fred. He laughed with a sleepy half smiled.

"I'm not jealous," he retorted, pinching your cheek. "I'm just protecting whats mine."

[hannieehaee]

How would loser jk react to the oc giving him a boo/spooky basket? (A gift basket given in fall/halloween time with whatever the person likes with just more fall/halloween themed items if you didnt know!) This thought wouldn’t leave my head for some reason while i was reading the latest loser jk 😭

content: loser!jk, halloween stuff, some insecurities from jk, pure fluff, mentions of making out etc.

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, (extra)

wc: 600

a/n: this was just a short little halloween themed drabble for my loser!jk couple. thank u for requesting and i hope u enjoyed!!

masterlist

"this is for me?"

your nod was far too giddy and excited. the poor boy was already in shock at your sudden gift, staring at you with those gigantic eyes as he looked at the basket you'd laid on his lap.

a shy smile took over his lips, bunny teeth biting onto the plush of his bottom lip to conceal a smile.

"i- what's the occasion?"

"it's halloween, bunny! it's a boo basket for my boyfriend!", you said happily, pressing a quick peck to his cheek.

he could no longer conceal his smile, you knew this. it was the word boyfriend. he always had a viscerally adorable reaction when you called him the b word.

and he looked specially adorable in his vampire costume.

well, maybe adorable wasn't the right word. but your nerdy little boyfriend looking hot was not a can of worms you wanted to open — because if you found him hot, that meant other girls would too, and that was a huge no-no (though maybe you should get that possessiveness checked).

for now, you appreciated the pretty boy sitting in front of you as he looked through the basket, eyes lighting up like a kid on christmas morning. his little 'oooh's and 'ah's as he went through the assortment of halloween themed gifts made your heart warm.

then suddenly he halted.

"what's wrong, baby?"

"i- i didnt get you anything," he pouted up at you, genuine worry in his eyes.

"that's okay, bunny-"

"no, god, i'm such a bad boyfriend. you're so nice to me and i- fuck, i'm sorry. i didn't realize halloween was a couples' holiday. ive never had a girlfriend before. i had no idea," he rambled on, looking genuinely remorseful at his lack of gift.

you couldn't help but pout at the poor boy. he worried too easily. it was adorable, but it also made your heart hurt a bit. the poor thing felt like he had to apologize over such a needless issue.

your only solution was to shut him up by sitting on his lap, moving the basket to the side before gifting him all your attention.

"c'mon, baby, you know i don't care about that. plus, i made this basket for the two of us. we have a cute lil matching costume," you gestured to your matching vampire outfits, "and now we have spooky snacks and fuzzy pumpkin socks so we can watch scary movies together. see? no harm, no foul," you traced at his cheek, biting your lip at the way in which he continued to get flustered at the attention despite it not being new in your relationship.

"okay," he sighed, "thank you for the gift," he repeated before giving you an innocent peck on your lips.

god. he was the cutest thing.

you got up from his lap then, taking note of the tiny frown on his face upon the newfound distance between you. extending your hand, you got him to stand up beside you. your hands went to pat at any wrinkles you'd left on his outfit by sitting on him, unable to help yourself in casual touches.

"now, come on. we have a halloween party to hit and some trick or treating to do. we can come back home and make out after that. i wanna smudge that lipstick," you grinned at him, booping at his nose as you eyed what would soon be a mess of red on his lips.

he nodded happily as he took your hand and allowed you to lead him out of the apartment, spooky basket in his other hand.

[eddiesxangel]

My Little Bunny | Older!Eddie x Reader

For Evie, @oneforthemunny prompt for her writing challenge. “based off the lore that older!eddie gets slutty on tequila lol. gimme tequila eddie. make it slutty. the og prompt was at the beach for a wedding of a cousin, if you’d like to follow that, but if not- where does it happen? how do you think it would go? don’t spare a single detail please!!!!” I hope I did your man justice 😘 happy one year!

Happy new year! Here is some smut to start the year off right.

This is pure filth, don’t look at me🫣

Cw: age gap, oral, p in v, ass play, anal. Minors DNI. Only slightly proofread so if you see a spelling mistake… no you didn’t 😤

“Bunnnnnnnnnnnnnny” Eddie slurred. The man could not handle his liquor. But neither could you.

After what happened and the wedding, Eddie swore he wouldn’t drink tequila for a very long time. However, tonight was special. Tonight, the baby was with your parents, and Bri was off with your sister for the evening. It was just you. And Eddie. Alone for the first time in what felt like years. Eddie was wining and dining with you tonight.

You convinced him to go to a bar to dance. Well, you danced, he watched. He watched your body; he loved the new curves you got from bringing Delilah into the world. You returned to the bar where he was sitting and ordered four tequila shots. Eddie had been nursing a beer all night; he was shocked at your drink of choice.

“Bunny you know what happens when I drink this…” giving you a stern look.

“Maybe I wanna get a little freaky tonight…. It’s been so long” you run your hands up and down his chest.

“I don’t know”

“What if I gave you an insensitive?”

“And what would that be?”

“I want you to fuck my ass tonight” you whispered against your husband’s ear.

“Bunnnnnnnnnnnnnny” Eddie slured again as you both stumbled into your home.

“Fuck I need you. I need your tight ass so bad”

You can’t keep your hands off one another. Your lips are attached to his neck, and your hands run up and down his body. You barely make it through the front door before your hands are trying to get down his pants.

Somehow, you make it to the bedroom. You were stripping your man with each step. Something inside of you was burning, and Eddie was the only thing to put it out. A visceral ache in your core, screaming at you to do something about it.

“I need you, I need you so bad,” you whined because he wasn’t moving fast enough. You were already on the bed waiting for him.

Eddie giggled as he tried to unbutton his dress shirt, but it didn’t seem to work.

“Come here,” Eddie coxed you closer to him. “I need your help.”

“Arms up,” your mom instincts kicked in, and you pulled off Eddie’s shirt in one swift motion.

Without hesitation, you worked on his pants the second your fingertips left the fabric of his shirt. Your nimble fingers worked his belt, button, and zipper, and finally, why you craved most was released before you.

"God, you're so hot! How did I land a wife so fucking hot?"

You let Eddie cup your face, kissing you as he pushes you back onto the bed. His tongue parted your lips, and you gladly let him take charge.

It was needy and messy but so deliciously delightful. You missed your hundreds touch. You’d been so busy being a new mom, and Eddie tried picking up extra shifts to make a little more cash so you could take a nice vacation this summer. You hardly spent time together. You needed this. He needed this. The fire in his belly was also burning the second you mentioned your perfect tight little hole wanting to be stretched and pounded by his cock.

“You gonna be my good little bunny?” Eddie spoke as he slinked down your body so his face was level with your throbbing pussy.

“Yes!” You had zero patients, and he thought it was cute.

“Well then... You gotta get nice and wet, f’me”

“Already ammmmm” you wined again. Why was he prolonging this?

“Oh is she? I guess I’ll just have to see for myself.” Eddie didn’t spare another second. His hands wrenched your legs open, pressing them as far as they could reach.

You let out a moan of pleasure when his mouth finally attached to your lower lips.

Eddie needed to taste you. He usually didn’t do this often, but tonight you deserved to be thoroughly fucked. He needed to feel you cumming in his mouth, to taste you, to feel you. His eyes rolled back into his head as he moaned into your pussy.

“Looks like you were right, baby bunny, and you taste so good. Just can’t get enough,” Eddie dove back in, flicking and licking at your clit. Your body was so reactive to him tonight. Let’s thank the tequila because it didn’t take much to make you cum from his mouth.

“Baby, I’m so close”

“Already? But I just started playing with her” he pouted.

“Yes! P-please.” You stuttered.

“You wanna cum? You going to cum for me?”

Unexpectedly, Eddie replaced his mouth with his finger just as you were on the brink. Before you could say anything, his finger was inside your wet fold, collecting all of your slick, and was quickly replaced by his mouth again.

You could feel the warmth building back up. Eddie continued to work your clit. All the while, his finger, drenched with your own natural lube, was starting to tease your other hole.

“Oh my god,” you moan as his finger slowly makes its way inside.

“You okay?”

“Don’t stop!” You begged as your first orgasm washes through you.

“Fuck, your tight little ass is sucking me in so good,” Eddie continues to finger you as you ride out your orgasm.

“Good bunny. Turn around, ass up, show me what’s mine.”

You quickly obeyed his orders and flipped around so you could show him what he wanted. You loved when he got possessive.

“Tell me what you want bunny”

“You.”

“Nu-uh,” Eddie tutted. “Be more specific.”

“Edddiiiieee, please, I need you.”

Eddie couldn’t believe your extra brattiness tonight.

“No,” a sharp slap filled the room and your ass stung. “Tell me what you need, Bunny,” he spoke, and he massaged the area he slapped. Soothing your skin.

“Your tongue… and your fingers,” you pant.

“Good little bunny,” he smirked. “You want me to tongue fuck your tight little hole? Get you nice and ready for me?”

“Yes,” you sigh as you arch your back more so Eddie can see more of you.

“Fuck bunny, you’re perfect.” Eddie gripped each cheek, spreading you open before dipping his head down.

When you felt his tongue make contact with your hole, you cried out again. You were revelling in the fact you were in an empty house. You could be as loud as you wanted.

“Mmmmmm, you taste so good, Bunny,” he moaned into you.

“Eddie!”

“Yes, Bunny?”

“More!”

“More what?”

“Please fuck my pussy”

“You’re such a good little slut for me. Good girl telling me what you want…. But is that all you want?” God, he was so condescending.

You let out an irritated huff. “Eddie, please,” you begged as you wiggled your ass in the air to entice him.

“You need to behave, little bunny, or else you’re not going to get what you want.” Eddie’s hands gripped your cheeks tighter.

“I’m sorry, I just need you so badly baby”

“Ohhh, I like that; tell me more.”

“I need you so bad! I’m aching for you. Please.”

“That’s my good girl.

Eddie lined up his cock with your wanton hole and slowly stretched you out.

“Thank you.” You sighed with relief.

His thick long cock stretched out your walls. You couldn’t help yourself as you rocked your body back and forth onto his cock.

“That’s it, bunny. Show me what you really can do” he slapped your ass again. You rocked your knees and hips back onto Eddie’s cock as he stood at the edge of your shared bed.

“Mmmmmm”

“More!”

You felt a wad of spit drip down your ass, lower and lower, until Eddie’s fingers found it and rimmed your picked hole. As you rocked your body against Eddie’s cock he dipped in his single digit, adding another and another until you stretched out.

Your body is screaming; Eddie was making you feel so good.

“Ok, bunny, you’re going to ride me, bounce on this cock and show me how good of a Bunny you are.”

“Yes, please. Need you.”

Eddie pulled out so he could get underneath you, but not before he reached the nightstand to pull out the lube you had stashed away for nights like these.

“You ready for me, baby?” He asked as he covered his cock in the slippery substance.

“Yes,” you swung your leg around his hips, aligning yourself with his hard cock that lay on his stomach.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispered as he guided your hips down onto him.

“Oh fuck” you both grit out in unison.

You watched as Eddie glazed over with lust.

“Fucking so good. Damn, tight.” Eddie gritted through his teeth.

He planted his feet on the mattress to ground himself. His hips started thrusting up into you, matching your strokes.

“Fuck fuck fuck I love the way you take my cock. Tell me how much you love this cock.”

“I love it,” you panted as you bounced on his cock. You felt so full, so complete. So ready for his cock to fill you.

“Baby, touch me,” you commanded.

Eddie dipped his head to take a nipple in his mouth as his hand found your pussy, finding your clit. A rush of pleasure ran through your body as his mouth and hands explored your body.

“Oh baby,” you threw your head back with pleasure.

“How much do you want it, baby bunny?”

“I want it so bad!”

“What do you want?”

“Your cum”

“Sucha little slut, want me to fill your ass with my cum?”

“Yes!”

Eddie’s hand never stopped working your clit. You could feel the pleasure build and build. Your legs were burning, but it was in measure to how Eddie was making you feel.

“You’re close baby I can feel you clenching down on me so tight.” He squeezed his eyes shut with pleasure.

“Cum for me, baby, cum for me, then I’ll fill you up so good you’ll be leaking for days. Do you want that? To feel my cum dripping out of you tomorrow?”

“Fuck. Eddie!” You cried out as your body clenched around his cock, cumming hard.

"Eddie continued to pound into your ass until he unloaded up into you, filling you up just like you begged him to do.

Your body went limp and your soar muscles rested as you lay your weight fully on your husband.

"Remind me again. Why don't I do tequila?" Eddie laughed as his brain released serotonin. "That was amazing." He kissed the top of your head.

"Remember that question tomorrow, big boy." You giggled, and Eddie finally pulled out of you.

"Come on, Bunny, let's get you cleaned up. " Even in his drunken state, he still needed to take care of you.

"Can't move. You fucked me too well." you sighed.

"I think you did most of the work Bun, you fucked me."

"I did, didn't I?" You smile at the realization.

"Don't get cocky now" He slapped your ass, and you jumped up out of bed with Eddie following close behind you.

[ninibeingdelulu]

"I'm right here"

plot- an argument with depressed geto CLICK ME

"I can't believe you're being like this!"

Suguru's voice cracked with frustrated accusation, slamming his textbook down with enough force to make you flinch.

"It's like you're purposefully trying to drive a wedge between Satoru and me just because you're jealous!"

You felt your hands ball into fists at your sides as that familiar spike of molten defensiveness surged through your veins.

How dare he diminish your concerns so callously after everything you'd been through together? As if your feelings were some trite, immature flight of fancy rather than the genuine loneliness you'd been grappling with lately.

"Jealous?" you scoffed, tossing your pencil aside with a heated glare.

"You really think I'm that petty? That this is just me throwing some pathetic tantrum over not getting enough attention from Wunderkind Geto?"

Suguru opened his mouth - undoubtedly to fire back with another biting remark - but you barreled forward, finally allowing the dam holding back weeks of bottled resentment to burst open.

No more mincing words or letting things fester until they'd reached this ugly, toxic fever pitch.

"I'm worried about you, jackass!"

You shoved off the couch, gesturing wildly as the torrent of pent-up emotions flooded free in a tumultuous rush.

"That's all I've wanted from the start! For you to actually let me in about what's been eating you up so badly lately that you've become a total goddamn stranger!"

Suguru seemed to visibly deflate somewhat under the brunt force of your outburst. But that brief hesitation was rapidly replaced by the familiar stubborn set of his squared jaw and narrowed onyx gaze which indicated the imminent eruption of his own fiery temper.

"Oh, so now you're my therapist?" he sneered, bracing his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward in your direction with acerbic challenge.

"Sorry I've been such an inconvenience while busting my ass trying to actually secure my future instead of wasting time with teenage melodrama!"

You shook your head in disbelief, throwing your hands up as another harsh bark of laughter cut through the tension like a serrated blade.

"Un-fucking-believable...Is that seriously what you think this is about? Me being petty over you 'wasting time' with dumb high school bullshit?!"

Suguru simply glowered in stony silence, the muscle in his clenched jaw visibly twitching.

Waiting for you to either continue your tirade or offer more proof of your apparent delusions over the state of things between you.

Well, if he wanted you to spell out the tangled knot of anguish and confused longing festering in your chest with stark clarity...Then so be it.

"I'm in love with you, you arrogant prick!"

The confession exploded out of you with enough volcanic force to make you immediately slap a hand over your mouth.

Yet once uncorked, there was no recapturing the deluge as it raged on, raw and unfettered.

"And it's been ripping me apart watching you spiral so far down in this pit of darkness without letting anyone in to try and pull you back out!"

Suguru looked as though he'd been struck across the face.

All residual ire seeping away into slack-jawed shock and visceral vulnerability cracking those steely exterior walls you'd slammed against so fruitlessly in the past.

His throat bobbed in an audible gulp, those intense obsidian eyes you used to lose yourself in now swimming with a thousand different conflicting emotions roiling in their tumultuous depths.

The sudden, stark silence stretching between you was enough to buffer even the frantic hammering of your pulse thundering past your ears.

The fear of obliterating one of the most important relationships of your life in that combustive outpouring constricted around your throat like a vise of pure dread.

Then, after what felt like an eternity...Suguru's expression shifted again.

His features settling into an almost haunted kind of resignation piercing directly into your very soul. When he spoke, his typically unflappable baritone emerged cracking and subdued - the most naked glimpse you'd ever witnessed of what laid beneath the surface he fought so vigilantly to repress.

"I...I know..." he confessed in a gust of breath barely above a whisper.

One shaky hand scrubbed over his face, refusing to meet your wide-eyed stare. "Fuck, I've known how you felt and I-I kept pushing you away so I wouldn't hurt you more by—"

The strangled catch in his throat cut off whatever fragile truth seemed to be teetering on the precipice of being laid bare between you.

Suguru's free hand balled into a fist clenching the material of his pants until his knuckles bored white while haunted shadows flickered across his downturned visage.

Never before had you witnessed him look so...utterly wrecked. So excruciatingly human under the weight of inner demons you'd never known to be lurking underneath it all.

Not until they'd already carved out pieces of him you might never get the chance to recover.

But you couldn't allow either of you to retreat into that isolating darkness anymore. Not after clawing your way this deep into the open wounds between you both.

Too many regrets were already trailing behind in your wake...

The deafening silence hung thick and palpable in the wake of Suguru's shattered admission.

You could practically taste the roiling torrent of unspoken truths and anguished vulnerability thrashing violently just beneath the surface he was struggling so viscerally to repress.

You knew with every fiber of your being that if you didn't reach out in this pivotal moment, the fragile threads binding you both together risked snapping under the immense strain.

And you refused to let that happen - even if it meant wading blindly into the shadowy depths of whatever demons were currently carving him hollow from the inside.

Tentatively, you bridged the couch cushions separating you and laid your palm overtop that trembling fist clenched with white-knuckled force against his thigh.

Suguru flinched slightly at the contact, but didn't immediately recoil away. Emboldened by that microscopic victory, you gently pried his fingers open to lace them through your own in silent invitation.

"Suguru..." you murmured, injecting as much tender reassurance into his name as humanly possible.

"Whatever it is causing you so much pain...you don't have to keep shouldering it alone anymore. I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

His jaw clenched spasmodically, those turbulent eyes still steadfastly averted from meeting your concerned gaze.

You could see the muscle twitching in his cheek from the sheer force he was exerting to keep that impenetrable mask locked firmly in place.

But you refused to relent, rubbing the pad of your thumb soothingly across his knuckles in hopes of coaxing him to simply breathe. To open himself up even a sliver after all this time...

"Please," you implored, daring to shuffle closer until your thighs were a hairsbreadth from touching.

Until that painfully unguarded expression was directly in your line of vision, begging to be witnessed without judgment or reprimand.

"Let me help carry this for you, 'Guru. You've been alone with this anguish for too long..."

Finally, finally , some of that tightly wound tension began leeching from his hunched shoulders as if the words had sliced through some of those invisible restraints shackling him down.

Suguru raised his other hand to rake shakily through his tousled raven locks, unravelling before your very eyes.

When his gaze at last lifted to lock with yours, the sight of those inky pools swimming with so much naked, harrowing vulnerability physically winded you.

"I'm so afraid..." he confessed in a ragged whisper thick with shame and trepidation.

His hand convulsed where you clutched it in your lap as if the admission had torn open a fresh, gaping wound inside.

"I've convinced myself I have this grand purpose to dedicate myself to completely, but there's a part of me that wonders if it's all been an excuse...a distraction from facing how truly lost and messed up I've become."

Tears glistened in those haunted obsidian depths and your heart shattered at the sight of Suguru's meticulously constructed walls crumbling before your eyes.

The instinctive need to pull him into your embrace and chase those demons away was near overpowering.

Yet you resisted, allowing him to unfurl at his own pace without outside influence. Simply being the steady presence and supportive tether he so clearly needed more than he'd realized.

"Everyone told me I was destined for greatness after awakening to my talents...That I possessed a gift entrusted to rectify this curse plaguing our kind."

Suguru's voice had descended into a hoarse, halting murmur as the floodgates burst completely open.

Each gravelly syllable etched in anguish carved into his very marrow.

"But deep down, I've always been so goddamn afraid of failing. Of disappointing everyone and being seen as the fraud I've convinced myself I must be for harboring any weakness or-or..."

His words finally failed, fading into a ragged exhalation torn from his very core as he lifted his imploring gaze beseechingly to yours.

"God, why am I like this? Why does any of this matter when all I've wanted is to open my eyes and see you smiling back at me without all this bullshit driving us apart?"

Your throat constricted wordlessly, scorching tears blurring your vision at the utter desolation contorting Suguru's features into the most wrenching expression imaginable.

Here was the strongest, most indomitable person in your life bearing the very depths of his shattered soul before you in total surrender.

And you instantly knew in that pivotal, crystalline moment - there was nowhere else you could ever fathom being that wasn't by his side.

Providing the steadfast strength and acceptance for those fragmented pieces until he felt whole enough to stand on his own once more.

There would be more tears, more shards to sift through together in confronting this pervasive darkness slowly consuming him from the inside out.

But the first painful, cathartic step had been taken. And you fully intended to never allow Suguru to slip backward into that isolating abyss ever again.

So you did the only thing left to reassure him he wasn't alone in this monumental fight for his very sense of self and purpose.

You surged forward and pulled him into your fiercely protective embrace - cradling his shuddering form flush against your chest as his own quiet sobs finally shook loose in heartrending waves.

"I'm here...I'm right here, 'Guru..." you whispered over and over into the downy strands of ebony hair tickling your lips.

"We're going to get through this, I swear it..."

Your shared tears and ragged breaths mingled achingly between your twined bodies as a new, mended path forward gradually unfurled with each passing heartbeat.

From the ashes of everything you thought you'd understood about him and the conflicted world he inhabited...

Bound now by the decision to walk whatever darkened road stretched ahead completely united in purpose and love at long last laid bare - come what may.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Actually a pretty fab line up right now

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

NOV 2024 Week 5

Ongoing Series - Thai

Love Sick 2024 (Sun iQIYI) ep 11 of 15 - This is where the teen awkward comes to grab me by the throat. No other Thai BL does this better than Love Sick (except maybe Make it Right). And it’s always a challenge to watch because Phun is so ready to come out and Noh is so not. I love what cramming 3 eps into one (and better side BL couples) did for the tension and pacing in this particular part of this story. The new version really is excellent. I'm chronicling my experience with 2024 as compared to 2014 here. 

Your Sky (Sun iQIYI) ep 2 of 12 - They are so awkward and I love them so much for it. They are terrible at faking romance, yet Fah want’s Rak so bad. This is moving so slowly but that’s part of it’s charm. I'm not frustrated instead I’m getting Oxygen vibes from it. Or perhaps it’s is more just I feel the way I felt when I was first watching Oxygen. Which is to say, I’m totally addicted and I keep re-watching new episodes. 

Spare Me Your Mercy (Thurs iQIYI) ep 1 of 8 - Gah! JJ grew up so pretty. I love these leads. (No one is shocked.) I love the lawful good paired against (we’re not sure yet but possibly) neutral evil. I love our very sus very flirty very gay doctor. A lot happened in this first episode. I’m getting Manner of Death flashbacks but there’s nothing wrong with that. Bring on the chili. 

Incidentally, if you're interested in true crime, here's the IRL version of this story. How a Nuclear Lab Helped Catch a Serial Killer from the Science Vs podcast.

Jack & Joker (Mon IQIYI) ep 10-12 end - I got the go ahead on a safe ending, and thus I watched the last 3 eps all as one. I love how defiantly verse these two were. I also really enjoyed the final episode. I do like a finale that ends on a bang (yes, both kinds). 

Final thoughts

I enjoyed this show a lot. A caper BL starring two of Thailand's best and focusing on class struggles, corruption, and poverty, was always gonna appeal to me. But I’m not sure, ultimately, whether I liked it because it was good in it’s own right, or because YinWar were so good in it. I do wish it had been a little more Leverage and little less chaos, Dr Evils, and "watch War cry." It was a great vehicle for YinWar, and for them to prove that BL can defy its own tropes. To that end, this goes comfortably into the Manner of Death category more than anything else I’ve encountered befor (although slightly less unhinged). It's good, but it loses the plot, the side couples, and it's own mind a couple of times, and YinWar were definitely greater than the sum of its parts. Thus I feel an 8/10 is fair, especially considering I'm unlikely to rewatch.

The Heart Killers (Weds Gaga) ep 2 of 12 - Dunk is illegally pretty in this show. I gotta say I covet his skin care routine. (I love YinWar as much as the next person, but THIS boy should be the spokes-BL-rep for Laneige.)

Manwhile..... FirstKhao might be GMMTV’s best flirters. It’s a pleasure to watch them just inhabit these characters and bounce off each other. I do keep saying “what tf are they doing?!“ with this show. In this instance, it was the dancing in the bowling alley. What is going on? is it meant to be a Pulp Fiction reference?

Also this gd soundtrack is bonkers. I *can’t!* with the 70s orgy porn music and the very bad not quite metal intro music. And then, I remember, brain must be turned off! (That’s really hard for me OK?)

All that said, both the sauna and the jerk-off scenes were much appreciated. It’s nice to see this kind of visceral physical attraction depicted in a BL, we get it so rarely.  

On a side note, I entirely support Thailand’s one country agenda to put all the cute boys in crop tops. Keep it up. And up. And up. 

Fourever You (Thurs YT) ep 9 of 16 - I just don’t get the (new) main couple. They don’t work for me. I like the surprise gamer boys side crumbs though. They are v cute.

Side quest: Genius move anytime Hill comes on screen to basically have Pond make love to the camera. He v good at it. Break down everyone’s fourth wall, baby. Take no prisoners. 

Caged Again (Fri Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - That exchange! “Are you worried about me” (attempted flirtation) vrs Junior’s response “yes I am.” Just utter frankness. It’s very sweet. All in all this show is very sweet. Somewhat incomprehensible world building, but sweet. And the head lift into the lap was next level adorable. Sun’s shy smile is everything. 

Perfect 10 Liners (Sun YT?) ep 5 of 24 - This show is very silly. I love the sides so much I can’t EVEN. But I think it was a big mistake putting Tay into this show. Never let an OG out of the bottle like that. He gets all our attention because we think he’s gonna grant all our wishes. By which I mean, all I could think the whole time he was on screen was WHY IS HE SO FINE?

I’m not joking, I had to watch his scenes 3x because I kept getting distracted and losing the plot. Not that there is much plot to lose. Just Tay’s mouth. I’ll stop now, but seriously tho LOOK AT HIM!!! 

Every You Every Me (Mon Gaga) ep 8 end - Honestly I’d like to see this pair handed something much more meaty. Like a Japanese adaptation? Tokyo in April is… for example. I think they do a great job with something like that.

Conclusion

This was supposed to be a linked series about reincarnated soulmates, but ended up being more like a Y-Destiny grab bag BL with no rebirth through line, just the same acting pair. The leads were excellent. And I must praise this show for representing things I always want in my BL (and rarely get), switch, verse, communication, and safe sex. It’s just that this format with the same actors but no unifying theme (despite the pitch/packaging) made for a disappointing viewing experience. Some of the installments I enjoyed, and the visuals are on point, but I was ultimately let down by style and execution, if not acting. 6/10 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Our Youth AKA Miseinen: Mijukuna Oretachi wa Bukiyo ni Shinkochu (Japan Tues Gaga) ep 4 of 11 - “I won’t fall in love with you” is an easy promise to make if you’ve already fallen. I love this show SO MUCH. “Infect me just a little.” Holy fuck. This BOY. Also, so much for “not kissing.” This BL is fantastic. I’m so worried about where it’s going. Japan could very much hurt me with this. I didn’t expect to fall in love so hard.

Man, JBL...... when it gets you it really gets you (then it locks you in a basement and gets kinky). We are not safe but we must sit back and suffer enjoy it. I hate this. I love this. What a rush. 

See Your Love (Taiwan Weds Gaga) ep 7 of 13 - I think this show has a “crash into me” trope in every single ep. This ep alone had 3, plus a flash back to the first one. Still, their damn date was so flipping adorbs!!!

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 10 of ? - I couldn’t be less interested in the stuff with the mean girls. I’m annoyed we spent so much of this episode on them. Fewer bullies more smooches.

Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan (Japan Sat Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - Arashi as the doting bf was cute if sudden, also holy musical montage BLman.  Kai is my favorite character (as was Sky) but I'm still not wild about the blackmail sex start to this relationship. It does seem a little bit more like Kai went after a one night stand, also bit more switchy, which is better...... I guess. But not by much because the chemistry with these two isn't as good as the original.

I remain suspicious.

It's airing but......

Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues ????) 11 of 12 eps - My source hasn’t yet uploaded 11. So…… I wait. 

Secret Love (? YT?) 13-?? of 81 eps - I don't know what's going on either.

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days (China Sun Viki) paused at eps 9-10 of 12 - I got the "stop" on this one as it's gone (no surprise) dark. Being China can not be relied upon to HEA. So I'm on pause until I'm told it's safe. If it ends sad/bad I will dnf. But for now I wait......

Winter Is Not The Death of Summer (Thai Weds YT) ?? eps - Criminals who meet in prison fall in love. I did find it on YouTube, initially unsubbed, then subs happened by which time I got distracted. The first episode seems to be only six minutes long. It is very pulp. But it is intriguing. For now its to the wayside until someone tells me what it whats to be and if it's headed in a safe direction. Occasionally Thai pulps want to be edgy and it's not a good look on them.

Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) 10 eps - I DNF'd at ep 7, I couldn't make it. I'm weak. Life is hard enough right now, this show made it harder. It’s not what I want from my entertainment. Ends tomorrow.

Bad to Bed (Taiwan Sat YT) 10 eps - This is a little too low production value even for me + just very very odd. DNF

In Case You Missed it - GMMTV 2025 Line Up

There have been a ton of hot takes already, including mine.

Here are the titles and links to MDL for you (confirmed full BLs only), these are organized in order of the ones I'm anticipating the most at the top.

Dare You to Death - trailer

Boys in Love - trailer

Memoir of Rati - trailer

My Magic Prophecy - trailer

Me and Thee - trailer

A Dog and A Plane - trailer

Cat for Cash - trailer

That Summer - trailer

My Romance Scammer - trailer

Head 2 Head - trailer

Ticket To Heaven - trailer

Burnout Syndrome - trailer

Melody of Secrets - trailer

Only Friends Dream On - trailer

Love You Teacher - trailer

Next Week Looks Like This:

End of year drops:

12/4 0.5D (Japan ????) 10 eps - Sales ace, Sada, has a secret that only his junior, Daiki, knows. He has pretended to have a gf for years, resulting in him being a virgin. But now Sada has fallen in love. Confused, Sada seeks advice from his junior. I sense another queer Cyrano De Bergerac. Info here.

12/6 Be Moon - Falling for my enemy's son (China ????) movie from HBD Studio - Not much on this one just a trailer, looks intriguing...... if it's from/through Taiwan, but if it's all China, I'm wary.

12/13 ThamePo Heart that Skips a Beat (Fri YT) 12eps - A boy band member and his documentarian start a forbidden relationship. I LOVE Est and am delighted to see him at GMMTV. This was my #1 pick for 2024. I've been waiting for a Blinding Lights style idol romance and this looks like it might be it (Korea and Japan have systemically disappointed me). Bring it, boys.

12/14 & 12/21 The Renovation (Thai mini One31) 2 eps - Writer turns his blossoming romance with holiday resort owner into a novel.

12/29 Sangmin Dinneaw (Thai ????) ??eps - trailer Childhood friends (Thai & Korean) reunite after being apart for ten years. As the boys reconnect, their bond matures and feelings of romance begin to develop, in Thai.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

His smile. (Caged Again)

Look at them!

Look, I don't mean to tell you your business, but THIS? This is peak Thai BL. This is it. This is What They Do Best. Sure they dabble with silly kinky crimey-whiney fashizzal, but Thailand's true BL power is right here, in the sweet awkward school-set first love arghhhhh. Yes I said, school. Bite me. (Love Sick... damn it, 10 years later and it still has me in a choke hold.)

Hey all you idiots who thought (or think) there is ever a green flag in any Mame ever, this character if for you. This boy, THIS ONE. This is what a walking talking ACTING green flag energy actually looks like. You wanna date a dude? Find you one like him. Okay, peaches? sheesh

Meanwhile, this, this is not a green flag. This is GMMTV thinking they are being clever by calling out Thai BLs' worst behavior to make a character who has 'slightly less than worst behavior' look better. Sigh. When meta is used for ill gotten gains.

This, on the other hand is meta being cleverly deployed.

And this is language play. P'ABL's favorite.

So endeth this lesson.

(last week)

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

[calehenituse-brainrot]

Mors

Cale Henituse | Kim Rok Soo x Transported!Reader

A meeting with a transcendental being.

content warning: blood, cannibalism

Sitting on your haunches, you look at the withered flower inside the ripped heart in your palms. You recalled how your chest was a gaping hole, devoid of a heart as well. Your hands trembled as you cradled the heart, wrenched straight from the chest of a god.

It was still in your hands, bathed in blood and eerily similar to a human’s. Similar to yours. If he was a god, why was he so identical to you? Why does he retain the human traits of his previous life after reaching godhood? Was it his way to be tied still to his roots? Was it his way to honor his previous life? Or was he doing this to be like the god you knew, wanting to be closer in image to the people that worshipped him, so they would feel closer to him?

You let out a small laugh at your questions. ‘God works in mysterious ways, I suppose.’

The flower within, a dianthus, was withering. You remember how that god had opened his mouth and swallowed your heart full. Was there something in your heart that he needed? Could his replace yours…?

You stilled for a moment, realizing that you couldn’t even hear your breathing. The withered flower inside his heart seemed to whisper to you, and you felt the temptation to open your mouth. Murmurs began to fill your senses, overwhelming you. The withering flower seemed to speak to you, promising a forgotten power, its decay a testament to the once-mighty deity's fall from grace. 

You opened your mouth, your mind flashing to the memories of your struggles; the raw, visceral moment when you forcibly tore the heart out of the god’s chest. You felt pure rage then and now it lingered as a hollow echo. You felt… empty. That man had once been your father -- a bad one, and you had the satisfaction of beating him to the ground and killing his image. 

What now?

With a deep breath, you lifted the heart to your mouth, the withered petals coated in blood touching your lips. 

“Will you be able to carry that power?”

You snapped, looking up in shock. The space had turned dark and when you looked up, your eyes glimmered with the sight of the universe before you, surrounding you. You felt a pull, the silent summons that drew you towards it all. Where is all?

A force pulled you to look up, and you seem to be looking into the edge of the universe. There was something that bears no form and defied mortal comprehension, an unyielding force that transcended all understanding. Whatever it was, it was an ungraspable enigma, woven into the fabric of the universe. You felt a presence, its weight palpable and its depth seemed to be pressing against your soul. You feel heavy.

Overwhelmed, your breath catches in your throat and your eyes teared up. It was as if the universe had stilled and you held your breath at the weight of it all in a moment of profound reverence.

The God of Death was neither seen nor heard, but felt—an all-encompassing awareness that filled the space around a person, a shadow that danced at the edge of perception. 

He was the very essence of the end, the silence that followed the final breath each dying person takes. 

You realize how small you are, and how your erratic breathing compares to the calmness He embodied. You were a mere spark in His infinite expanse of time. You smiled through your tears. “You’re here.”

His vastness tilted, and though He had no eyes, you felt its attention fixed on you. His voice was not a voice but a cacophony of sensations: waves crashing, a fire roaring, the soft crackle of ice breaking apart.

“I am,” He said to you. His voice seemed to ring in your ears, vibrating through your very bones, carrying with it the faint echoes of all the lives He had claimed as his.

“You’re not like how I expected you to appear,” you murmured, gently lowering your hands as you looked up at the cosmos. He was everything and everywhere all around you at once. 

“Do you expect me to appear like in your little books?” He asked, His tone amused and it disturbs you to know such a great being was capable of understanding you so intimately. 

You nodded. “Yes.”

The galaxies glimmered as He laughed and you watched it all, mesmerized. “You’re… beautiful.”

This god was not like the one you knew. You knew what Death would look like through the novels, but your idea of an ethereal being that greets you in the afterlife never had a face. You imagined Him to have a figure of kindness cloaked in the despair of the end, a ferryman to guide your soul or a looming, austere angel wrapped in glowing robes. But He was none of that. He was not the gentle shepherd you knew nor was he an angel. There was no humanoid form for you to grasp, to hold for comfort at the end of your life.

He has no voice. He needed none. His presence filled the endless expanse of this space, towering like a mountain, shifting like stormy clouds of a night, the edges fraying into a blinding mix of light and shadows. His body -- can you even call it one? -- was composed of dark clouds, flashing as if a storm was brewing deep within. It swirled in front of you, like the beginning of a hurricane. 

You recalled the cold waters, the tilting ship, and the piercing ache in your chest. The stinging pain of slamming and breaking the water surface before you lost your consciousness. “Is it my time? Is that why you’re here?”

He did not reply for a moment, and you felt the universe vibrate. The heart was lifted from your palms and floated in front of you.

“A God is dying,” He said. “These petals were once radiant with celestial light. Because of you, now they are brittle and dark. His divinity is dying.”

“Is it a sin?” You asked him. “Have I sinned?”

“I am not one of your wrathful gods,” He said. “There is no sin for a child who simply wants to live.”

“Take this heart,” He said. “Eat it whole and consume the flower within. You’ll be able to come back to your family. They wait for you.”

You cupped your palms, and the heart slowly fell back to your hold. You look into the withered flower and then back to the universe. You felt the essence of Death, the profound stillness He was able to provide that calmed the storm in your head. You closed your eyes. “You feel so… peaceful. Heavy, but peaceful.”

“Because this is the edge of your existence,” He told you. However it sounded, it sounded so gentle. Forgiving. The universe warped again and an hourglass appeared, the sand being stardust. It was running out of it. This was your lifespan. “There is no judgment that awaits you here. Nothing awaits you here.”

“Will I stay here if I choose not to consume this heart?” You asked. 

The God of Death let out a sound similar to a surprised hum. “No. This is not death. It will be painful and a glorious sight to see your death. You will feel the pain. At this moment, I am being merciful to you.”

You gulped. “I… I don’t want that. Can’t I die peacefully?

“No,” He answered, quiet and still.

“Why not?” You asked, feeling a lump form on your throat. Deep down, you crave for His approval, for His attention. You wanted comfort from the being that will take your soul, and you’d never admit it, but you were devastated. “If I stay… You will be the one to take me. You take everything… At the very least, make it painless--”

The air stilled as He seemed to focus on you. “Do you think of me as a cruel god?”

“So much,” you whispered. “You take everything away and we all suffered from it.”

The dark clouds surround you and you feel the way they wrap around you close, forcing your chin up to face Death. “You mistake necessity for cruelty. My followers think I must love or hate, guide or punish. But I am neither shepherd nor tyrant. I am the ending of things, as natural as the fall of night. I owe you nothing.”

The sheer indifference in His tone—or His essence—shattered something inside you. You had hoped for solace, for answers, for meaning. Instead, you found yourself face to face with the vast, uncaring truth of mortality. You were a speck of dust in the presence of a cosmic storm. You must understand that you are nothing in front of these Gods.

“All things must end. The cycle cannot hold without me. Your grief is yours to bear. It has never been mine.”

You sat in silence, the heavy truth within His words pressing down on you like the weight of the world. For a moment, you felt like screaming your heart out. This is unfair! I did my best to be a good person and I will die a painful death at the end! 

This was callous -- the final moments of your life would be raw, scathing pain that you’ll feel until you die. Death was easy to face, but dying was not something you wanted, much less in pain. Staring at the mass of dark clouds, the fire in your chest flickered and then immediately dimmed.

Whatever you do, it will be futile. Your rage will be futile, your pleas unheard. You are mortal.

You rose to your feet slowly, panting. The God of Death said nothing, watching—or perhaps not—as you grasped for the heart.

The hourglass slowed.

“Consume the divinity,” He said. “Consume it and let it take you.”

You opened your mouth and lifted the heart to your lips. Your teeth sank onto the bloodied, lifeless flesh and a surge of a cold and ancient energy coursed through you. The taste was something you could never have tasted in your living days. It tasted of iron and stardust, horribly bitter with the remnants of a dying divinity. You gripped at the flesh with your teeth and ripped it away, swallowing the chunks whole and each swallow was a step further into the abyss, your soul intertwining with the fading essence of a dying god.

The withered dianthus crumbled in your mouth, its divine energy dissolving on your tongue and it left you with sorrow and tears.

You swallowed the final piece and your gaping chest began to close itself. Your chest burns with the dying embers of divinity that now reside in your soul. You sat there, looking up at the universe with your bloodied mouth, the weight of your action settling into your bones. 

It was slow at first. A burn on your tongue, and then around your throat that had dared to consume such a sacred thing. You gasped, grasping at your throat and then your chest. You let out a pained wail as your chest seemed to have something slithering inside it, moving inside your flesh and skin and causing you to scream in pain.

“I-I can’t--!” You stammered out through pained gasps. “I-I can’t t-take it! Please!”

“Be calm,” Death whispered to you. “Accept your end. I’m here to take you.”

You slumped to the ground, panting as you began to feel faint, the universe warping around you. 

The inevitability of His embrace filled you with a strange, bittersweet peace, a release from the burdens of mortal toil. In the overwhelming quiet, you found a deep acceptance, a surrender to the inevitable cycle of existence. The God of Death, unseen and formless, held you in a silent embrace, a guardian of the boundary between life and the infinite unknown.

And in that sacred moment, where time and space dissolved into the eternal twilight, you understood the profound peace of surrender, the quiet grace of the end, as you were gently carried into the vastness beyond.

Ron sat in the ship, looking up at the starry skies as Archie swam back to the continent. The ship’s gentle motion cradled the two people who lay unconscious on its wooden floorboards, the soft creaking of its timbers mingling with the sounds of the whales swimming. His eyes, weathered by years of witnessing death, gazed upward. Ron could never think he would seek solace within stars, but here he was.

They always felt so cold to him. They were an ancient, eternal beauty, so indifferent to the troubles that Earth and its inhabitants faced. To think something like that was a small part of a vast existence and Ron felt conflicted about whether or not he should feel glad that his sorrows were so small within that existence. He came to the conclusion that he didn’t care.

The night breeze, cool and salt-tinged, whispered through his silver hair, carrying with it the scent of the open sea. He inhaled deeply, drawing strength from the air, his weathered hand resting gently on your hand. Ohn was tucked under your chin, herself paranoid that in the middle of their way home, your pulse would stop beating and she’d lose you again.

Rosalyn was sitting on her haunches, your head placed on her lap as she was nodding off.

Your skin was cool beneath their touch, a stark contrast to the warmth of their love, a love that burned with the fierce intensity of a dying star.

The ship moved steadily, its course unwavering, slicing through the dark waters toward their home. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, the minutes stretching out as if time itself were reluctant to move forward. The stars above shimmered with a light that seemed to pulse with ancient wisdom. 

He turned his gaze from the stars to you, his heart aching with a deep, primal fear. One that he had not felt in a long time.

“Stay with me,” he implored quietly as if he was praying to himself. The night seemed to hold its breath, the stars flickering in silent sympathy.

Ron paused when he saw something move under the coat he had laid on your front as a blanket. Ohn’s ears twitched and she looked up groggily, only to be met with the grotesque sight of your flesh seemingly moving and writhing underneath the coat.

As if possessed, your back arched violently and dozens of thorns burst off your gaping chest, sprouting like tendrils as it moved wildly around.

Choi Han immediately stood behind Cale’s unconscious body, his sword already out as he stared at your body with a guarded gaze. “W-what the--?”

Rosalyn immediately woke up, stepping away from you and watching as your body convulsed even though you were still unconscious. “[N-name]?!”

Your body convulsed wildly, the thorns growing longer as it seemed to be reaching for the skies. Choi Han looked at them all cautiously and turned to Rosalyn. “Should we cut it down?”

“We don’t know what it will do to her if we do,” Rosalyn said. “We should try to contain her--”

Before Rosalyn could finish her sentence, the thorns slowly began to slow their convulsions and retract back to your gaping chest. Its thorns retracted and grew softer, taking the form of ordinary vines as it draped along your body similar to a tapestry, the prettiest hyacinths growing around you like the most beautiful blanket.

Rosalyn hesitantly touched the flowers, checking for any abnormalities to see if they posed any danger. Once she had confirmed that the flowers were safe, she went ahead to check your chest, trying to see if you were bleeding out from what had just happened. She separated the blankets of flowers to see your once gaping chest was now plugged with dozens of vines knotted together. They started from your flesh as if they were your veins, becoming more prominent as they reached your chest and became all knotted together to plug your wound.

“How fascinating,” Rosalyn murmured, her eyes glimmering. She leaned forward, gently running her fingertips along the green vines, seeing how they faded from red as they came from your veins to green like a typical plant.

You were peaceful within your slumber, unaware of the chaos that you had created in the world of the conscious. 

The world was hazy when Cale slowly opened his eyes, the soft glow of sunlight spilling into the room like liquid gold. The rays struck his pale face, painting him in ethereal light as the weight of sleep still clung to his limbs. The sound of the curtains being drawn filled the air, the faint rustle of fabric accompanying the light's advance. Cale winced, raising a trembling hand to shield his eyes from the brightness.

A low groan escaped his lips, barely audible, but enough to make Ron turn. The ever-composed butler approached swiftly, his steps as quiet as a shadow. 

“Young Master-nim,” Ron’s voice was calm, a steady anchor in the waking haze. “You’re awake…”

Cale sat up slowly, every movement deliberate as though he was piecing himself back together. He barely had a moment to breathe before warmth crashed into him.  

“Huummannnnn! Stupid, stupid human!”  

Raon’s tear-filled cries filled the room as the dragon clung to him, his small body trembling with relief. Ohn and Hong quickly joined, their soft, furred forms pressing close to Cale, their cries mingling with Raon’s as they buried themselves against him. Their tears soaked into his clothes, their overwhelming relief a storm that engulfed him.  

Cale blinked, disoriented, his hands instinctively reaching out to comfort them. He clumsily patted Raon’s head, his fingers trembling as they ruffled the dragon’s dark mane.  

“Hey now,” he murmured, his voice hoarse and weak. “I’m fine. I’m here.”  

His words did little to stem their tears, but they clung to him as though they feared he might vanish again. Raon sniffled loudly, his round eyes peering up at Cale with a mix of relief and scolding.  

Ron stood nearby, watching the scene with quiet detachment, though a faint glimmer of something softer lingered in his eyes. “Five days,” he said at last, his voice cutting through the cacophony. 

Cale glanced up at him, his own exhaustion still clinging to his features. “How long…?”  

“It’s been five days since we rescued Miss [Name],” Ron replied.  

Cale’s brow furrowed, his voice dipping into concern. “Is she—?”  

Ron’s frown was subtle but heavy. He shook his head. “She’s still unconscious. We’ve done all we can, called every advanced healer there is, but nothing seems to work.”  

Hong pressed his small head to Cale’s stomach, his voice a whisper tinged with worry. “She wouldn’t wake up at all… We’ve tried so hard…”  

Cale’s hand moved to Ohn, gently stroking her soft fur. Her wide eyes shimmered with tears as she rested her head on his lap, her quiet sniffles breaking his heart.  

“I missed you…” she murmured, her voice fragile.  

“I never left,” Cale muttered in reply, his hand lingering on her head as a frown tugged at his lips.  

Ron, ever the vigilant butler, stepped forward, his sharp gaze raking over Cale’s form. “How are you feeling, Young Master-nim? Any pain?”  

“I’m fine,” Cale replied, though his voice lacked conviction.  

Ron’s hands were quick, professional as they checked his injuries, his touch brushing lightly against the faint scar over Cale’s chest—the spot where nature itself had torn into him. The wound was sealed now, but it carried the weight of the battle etched into his very being.  

“I would call that impossible,” Ron muttered, his tone flat yet pointed. “But considering it’s you, Young Master-nim, I will simply choose to believe you… and forbid you from overexerting yourself.”  

Cale arched a brow, his lips quirking faintly. “So you don’t believe me.”  

Ron’s mouth twitched in what might have been a smirk. “Oh, I would never distrust your words,” he replied smoothly, his tone laced with faint sarcasm as he finished inspecting the scar.  

“Everything looks good,” Ron concluded, stepping back.  

Cale sighed, leaning back against the headboard. He glanced at Raon, Ohn, and Hong, their tear-streaked faces now calmer but still clinging to him like shadows. A faint smile played on his lips, though weariness hung heavy in his eyes.  

“Looks like you all didn’t miss me at all,” he murmured softly, his words betraying the comfort he found in their presence.  

Raon’s tail flicked, his voice firm despite the lingering tremor. “Stupid human. Of course we missed you! Don’t say stupid things!”  

Cale chuckled faintly, the sound low and hoarse, but genuine. “Alright, alright. I get it. I’m not going anywhere.”  

And though the room was still tinged with the weight of worry, for a brief moment, there was peace. It wasn’t long before he had to wash up and get ready for breakfast, so he reluctantly got out of bed -- the first time he was voluntarily getting up early -- and walked to the en-suite bathroom attached to his bed chambers.

The warmth of the morning lingered as Cale stood at the washbasin, splashing water onto his face. The coolness jolted his senses awake, washing away the haze of sleep and the remnants of the days spent unconscious. His reflection in the mirror stared back at him—pale, with dark shadows beneath his eyes, a silent testament to his overuse of powers.  

Behind him, the soft patter of paws and the faint swish of a tail broke the quiet. Raon, Ohn, and Hong hovered near the doorway, watching his every move as though afraid he might collapse again.  

“Are you just going to stand there?” Cale asked, his tone light but teasing as he toweled off his face.  

Raon puffed out his chest. “I’m supervising! A mighty dragon never leaves his human unattended after such a reckless stunt.”  

Cale chuckled softly, his breath fogging the mirror for a moment. “And what about you two?” He glanced at Ohn and Hong, who stood quietly behind Raon.  

Ohn shuffled her paws, her ears flicking nervously. “We’re just… making sure you’re okay.”  

Hong nodded, his tail swaying faintly. “You scared us, you know.”  

Cale sighed, running a hand through his hair before turning to face them. “I’m fine, see? Now, let’s go eat before Ron starts lecturing me about skipping meals.”  

Raon trotted ahead, his wings fluttering slightly as he led the way to the dining area, while Ohn and Hong stayed close to Cale’s sides, their small forms a comforting presence.  

The dining room was bathed in soft light, the table already set with a simple but hearty breakfast. Ron stood by, his ever-present smile as calm as the morning air. He stepped forward as soon as Cale sat down, pouring a cup of tea and placing it within arm’s reach.  

“Young Master-nim, the tea will help replenish your energy. Please, enjoy the meal.”  

Cale eyed the tea warily. “If this is one of your concoctions, I’ll pass.”  

Ron’s smile didn’t falter. “It is merely a blend to aid recovery. Nothing more.”  

“Hmm.” Cale picked up the cup but didn’t drink just yet, focusing instead on the plate of food in front of him.  

Raon was already settled beside him, his tail thumping against the chair as he reached for a piece of bread. “Human, eat lots! You need to get your strength back.”  

“Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” Cale muttered as he took a bite, the warm flavors spreading across his tongue.  

Ohn and Hong sat across from him, quietly nibbling on their own portions. Every so often, Ohn would glance up at Cale, her large eyes shimmering with a mixture of relief and lingering concern. Hong, meanwhile, focused on his food but kept sneaking looks at his brother and sister, as though ensuring they were also eating properly.  

Ron moved silently around the room, refilling tea and occasionally adjusting a plate, his movements so seamless they barely registered.  

“So,” Cale began after a few bites, breaking the gentle rhythm of the meal. “What’s the plan for today?”  

Ron paused briefly, his gaze meeting Cale’s. “Today, you rest, Young Master-nim.”  

Cale raised an eyebrow. “I think I’ve rested enough.”  

“Your body would disagree,” Ron replied smoothly. “And so would those who were left worrying over you.” His gaze flicked meaningfully toward the children.  

Raon, mid-chew, nodded emphatically. “You are resting, human. Don’t even think about using that scary power again. I won’t let you!”  

Hong chimed in, “We’ll make sure you don’t.”  

Cale let out a small sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Fine, fine. I’ll rest. But I need to go see [Name] first.”

“Of course, Young Master-nim,” Ron replied immediately, nodding his head.

“Who’s with her right now?” Cale asked, watching Raon happily stuff his mouth with another roll and Ohn and Hong share a quiet exchange.

“Choi Han,” Raon answered with a cheer, smiling widely. “He said there was someone else like him now.”

Cale blinked. Right. Him, Rosalyn, and Cale himself practically walked down your memory lane after being connected by the powers within that island. Choi Han must be happy and even curious about you now that he knew you were someone from another world like he and Cale was. 

He must be eager to talk with you.

“I see,” Cale murmured between bites. “I’ll see her after breakfast.”

“I’ll go too,” Hong said with a smile. “I want to see her too.”

“We all do,” Cale replied softly, caressing Hong’s head.

For now, things were calm. And Cale would take that small mercy, even if he knew it wouldn’t last. Your room constantly haunted his mind throughout the breakfast, but he didn’t rush himself to it. He let himself rest for a moment with he children after breakfast before they all headed there together.

He figured that Choi Han must have left for breakfast when he got there, because the moment he entered your room, he saw Cage standing by your bed. He approached the woman slowly, seeing the anxious expression on her face. “Miss Cage. How are you?”

“Cale-nim!” Cage greeted, her eyes widening. “How are you? Is everything okay? I heard you woke up today but didn’t think I’d see you.”

“I’m fine,” Cale said, unconsciously placing his hand on top of his chest where his heart resides, feeling the bumps of the ugly scar there through his clothing. He looked down to where you were, seeing you lay on the bed, hair spread out on the crisp, white pillows. Your face was sunken and pale, your body hidden away by the neat sheets which proved that you hadn’t moved at all ever since you were laid down there. 

There was a dip on the foot of the bed, similar to the one he had on his where the kids would sleep. He silently wondered how many times the kids had stayed here with you instead of with him. He looked up, back to Cage. “I suppose you’re here to visit [Name]?”

Cage stared at him, her expression grim. “Y-yes… I had a vision, of some sort.”

She glanced back at you. “I saw Miss [Name] and the God of Death. He took her.”

Cale’s heart felt like it missed a beat, his stomach suddenly aching from the anxiety. “What?”

“He took her,” Cage repeated. “H-he gave her something and she took it and then she just… disappeared. She ended up with him.”

“I’m afraid you’re not being very clear,” Cale said with a frown. “Ended up with him?”

“She’s with the God of Death now, Cale-nim,” Cage said. “She’s dying.”

The dim light of the room cast long shadows, the steady rhythm of your breathing the only sound breaking the silence. Cale sat motionless, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair, his chin propped on his hand. Raon was curled up on his lap, his small body radiating warmth against Cale’s exhaustion. The dragon’s tail flicked occasionally, a restless movement betraying his otherwise calm demeanor.  

Cale’s gaze remained fixed on your face, pale and serene, like a marble statue. The delicate rise and fall of your chest was both a comfort and a torment—proof you were still here, yet unmoving, locked in some place Cale couldn’t reach.  

Cage’s words echoed in his mind, a haunting refrain: “She’s with the God of Death now. She’s dying.”  

It has been a full week since then. They tried to gather priests and even the Saint, but nothing seemed to help.

His hand absently moved to Raon’s head, stroking between the dragon’s small horns. Raon let out a soft hum, pressing closer to him.

“Human,” the dragon murmured, his voice barely audible. “She will wake up. I believe it.”  

Cale didn’t respond, his fingers halting for a moment before resuming their gentle rhythm. Raon’s faith was unshakable, but Cage’s vision gnawed at him, a dark weight pressing against his chest.  

Ohn stirred slightly near your shoulder, her soft fur brushing against your skin as she stretched her small legs and resettled herself, her tiny breaths mingling with yours. On your stomach, Hong kneaded gently, his rhythmic purring a soothing backdrop to the heavy silence.  

‘Cage said the God of Death took her,’ Cale thought, his frown deepening. ‘What does that even mean?’

The God of Death was no stranger to him—a force that lingered on the edges of mortal comprehension, powerful and merciless. If you were truly in His hands, what could he possibly do? The thought of someone so close to him caught in the grasp of that enigmatic being churned his stomach.  

“I can’t just sit here,” he muttered, breaking the silence.  

Raon lifted his head, blinking up at him. “Then what will you do, human? You’re supposed to rest.”  

Cale didn’t answer immediately. His gaze lingered on your face, searching for any sign of life, any flicker of movement, but you remained still. His hand moved from Raon’s head to his chest, pressing against the scar there, as though willing himself to focus.  

“I’ll find a way,” he said finally, his voice quiet but firm. “There’s always a way.”  

Raon’s round eyes studied him, filled with worry but also trust. “Then I’ll help. We’ll all help. Ohn, Hong, and I—we’ll do whatever you need.”  

Cale’s lips quirked into a faint, fleeting smile. “Of course you will.”  

But even as he spoke, his mind raced. If the God of Death truly had you, he needed answers—and fast. Few beings in the world could meddle with something as enigmatic as the God of Death, but he wasn’t about to let that stop him. He never did.

“Human.” Raon’s voice was stronger this time, pulling Cale from his thoughts. “She will wake up. We’ll make sure of it.”  

Cale didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back in the chair, his hand returning to Raon’s head. “You’re right, Raon. She will.”  

“Will you wait for her?”

Cale snapped his head up, heart lurching in his chest. The voice was cold, unyielding, and familiar—one he’d never thought he would hear so close again. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes locked onto the figure standing by the foot of your bed.

There He was, the God of Death.

His presence filled the room like a thick, oppressive fog. The air grew colder, and even Raon stirred on Cale’s lap, his small body suddenly rigid with unease. Cale didn’t even notice, too consumed by the figure before him. 

The God of Death stood as He always did—humanoid in form, His features barely human, his tall, shadowed silhouette more an embodiment of the unknown than a mortal being. His face, though not quite like a person’s, was lined with a calm, otherworldly beauty, a mask of serene inevitability. His eyes were voids, endless and fathomless, where time and space seemed to converge, swirling like an endless abyss. Yet His gaze was not unkind—merely detached. He was beyond any emotion Cale could comprehend. 

Cale’s chest tightened, but he refused to flinch. He had met the God of Death before, had bargained with Him, but now? Now, with you lying so still and silent on the bed, now with the knowledge that He was planning to take something precious from him? The chill of His presence felt like it was crawling under Cale’s skin, settling into his bones.

"She is not dead," Cale said, his voice low, more a statement than a question. His fingers tightened around the arm of the chair, his pulse quickening despite himself. "So why are you here?"

The God of Death tilted His head slightly, the faintest movement, but it spoke volumes. His voice came again, like the wind itself—a whisper that reverberated in the back of Cale’s mind. 

"She is dying. Whether you accept it or not, the moment I took her, it was sealed." 

Cale’s heart twisted painfully. He swallowed hard, trying to steady the tremor in his voice. "She’s not dying. I won’t let her. You can’t take her from me."

The God of Death’s gaze shifted from Cale to you, still and pale beneath the sheets. There was no pity in His expression—just an infinite calm, a certainty that made Cale feel small in comparison. 

"She has already given herself to me. She will join me and others," He said, His words floating in the air like an inevitable conclusion. "There is no changing this. She will not wake on her own."

Cale’s chest constricted, and for a moment, the silence felt unbearable, but Cale’s focus never wavered from the God of Death.

"Is that it, then?" Cale’s voice cracked but he held His gaze. "You’re here to tell me there’s nothing I can do? That she’s already gone?"

The God of Death did not respond right away. He simply regarded Cale with an almost imperceptible tilt of His head, as if studying him, contemplating the answer.

"Nothing you can do," He repeated slowly, each word wrapped in finality. 

"But..." The God of Death paused, and for the first time, Cale felt an uneasy shift in the air, as if something far darker was behind those words. "Will you wait for her? Will you stand by her side as she fades from this world and into my domain?"

Cale’s hand clenched into a fist. He could feel the warmth of Raon’s scales against his skin, the steady thrum of his heart, and the weight of the room pressing in on him. 

"I’ll wait," Cale said firmly, his voice quieter now but steady. "But I will not stop looking for a way. I’ll find a way to bring her back."

The God of Death was silent for a long moment, as though considering Cale’s defiance. His eyes, though hollow, seemed to glimmer for just an instant—an unreadable emotion flickering in the depths. 

"Your persistence will not change what is inevitable. But..." His voice trailed off, the weight of His words hanging heavy in the air. "You may stand beside her if you so wish. But know this—she will never belong to you in the way you desire." 

Cale’s eyes hardened. “She belongs to no one but herself. And if she wakes... I’ll make sure of that."

The God of Death gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod, His presence pulling back just a fraction, but never quite leaving. He tilted His head again, the faintest trace of something almost like curiosity in His eyes.

“Then I will leave you to your vigil. But remember, Cale Henituse—she cannot escape this.”

And with that, the God of Death faded, His figure dissolving like smoke, leaving Cale alone with the weight of the room and the heavy stillness of your slumber. 

The cold remained, lingering in the air, but something inside Cale hardened. He would wait. He would stand beside you, and even if the God of Death’s words held some truth, Cale would make sure you never felt alone. 

He would not let you fade into the void without a fight.

Suddenly, Ohn and Hong sat up, their fur bristling and tails standing stiff in shock, their wide eyes fixated on you. 

Cale’s heart skipped a beat as he watched the slight movement, the slow twitch of your fingers beneath the sheets, a faint flutter of your eyelids. For a moment, he wondered if he had imagined it, the hope stirring within him like a flicker of light in the darkness. But then you shifted again, your breath hitching as your chest rose just a little more sharply.

Raon leaped off Cale’s lap in an instant, his wings flaring as he shot toward your bedside. 

"H-human?" Raon’s voice was a mixture of disbelief and hope, his small body quivering with excitement. "Is she...?"  

Cale’s breath caught, and without thinking, he moved closer, his eyes never leaving your form as he knelt at the side of the bed. His hand hovered over your own, as if unsure whether to touch you or let you come back to him on your terms. The room seemed to hold its breath as the seconds stretched into eternity.

Then, a soft gasp—your body stirred again, and for the first time, your eyes fluttered open. Not fully, but enough for a sliver of light to break through the veil that had enveloped you. The warmth in Cale’s chest was overwhelming, and he felt his hand tremble as he finally reached for yours, gently cupping it with his own. 

“[Name]?" he whispered, his voice hoarse from the weight of his anxiety. "Can you hear me?"

For a moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breath, shallow but steady. Then, you blinked, slowly focusing on him, your eyes still clouded with confusion, but they were alive. 

"…Cale?" Your voice was weak, barely a whisper, but it was enough to make his heart soar.  

Cale’s throat tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t know if he should smile or cry. Instead, he simply squeezed your hand, his voice a soft murmur of relief. "I’m here." 

Ohn, who had been watching from the side of the bed, let out a relieved whine, nuzzling into your side. Hong, still curled on your stomach, tilted his head and purred softly, rubbing his face against yours in a quiet greeting. The children were no longer anxious, their soft breaths matching the rhythm of yours as they instinctively sought comfort in your revival.

Raon hovered just above the bed, wings flapping lightly in a tiny victory. "Told you, human! She will wake up!"

You blinked again, more clearly this time, and your gaze drifted over to the three of them—Ohn, Hong, and Raon—before finally focusing on Cale. The confusion in your eyes slowly morphed into recognition, but there was something more in them too—a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, something even Cale couldn’t quite read.

"What… happened?" Your voice was still weak, barely more than a breath. "Why am I…? I thought…" 

Cale’s heart twinged at the memory of Cage’s words. He fought to steady his voice, to keep his composure as he gently stroked your hand. “You’ve been unconscious for a while, but you’re awake now. That’s all that matters.” 

He hesitated for a moment, casting a glance toward the door as if expecting the God of Death to reappear. But there was nothing—only the quiet hum of life in the room.  

"You’re safe now," Cale continued softly, bending down slightly to be closer to you. "You don’t need to worry."  

The air was thick with unsaid things, but right now, there was no need for explanations. No need to dwell on what had been—only on the fact that you were awake, breathing, here with him.  

The children settled beside you, their presence a comforting weight on the bed, and Raon perched on the edge, eyes full of determination. "I’ll protect you, little [Name]! I won’t let anyone take you again!"  

Cale couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. He turned his attention back to you, watching you slowly blink in and out of focus as you tried to make sense of the world around you. He was patient, as patient as he could be in that moment, his hand never leaving yours.  

"Rest," he whispered, his voice softer now. "You’re safe. You’re here."  

And for the first time in days, Cale let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. You had come back, against all odds. And as long as you were here, he would find a way to keep you from ever slipping away again.

You looked up at him, gaze tender and apologetic as tears well up in the corner of your eyes. “I’m sorry… For leaving.”

“It’s okay,” Cale murmured. “You were… blindsided.”

“I was an idiot,” you murmured with a soft sigh, closing your eyes as the tears slowly fell.

“Sleep,” Cale murmured, hesitantly pressing his lips to your temple. “I’ll be here. We’re all here.”

[4zahara]

LEPIDOPTERIST

Entomologist (branch of zoology) who specializes in the study of moths and butterflies. The word lepidopterist comes from ancient Greek, where lepidos means scale and pteron means wing.

A/N—Let's not pretend I know what I'm doing. English is not my first language—

In a dimly lit room, overflown with dancing shadows, the familiar smell of old wood and dust surrounded the sight that for years to come would be engraved with fire on one's mind.

There, meticulously pinned against a soft, dark background, were framed on the wall the largest butterfly wings anyone could ever dream of ever seeing. As long and wide as a person would be tall, even after being torn off the intricate patterns and vibrant colors seemed to pulse an ethereal glow. Fine details such as delicate veins, shiny scales and subtle color gradients dancing between camouflaged yellows and greens were highlighted.

The tremor which ran through the ever growing-weaker body of staring eyes was nauseating. Each rib seemed to mock such dispossession, and a voice broken into muffled sobs. For these were not simply a pair of some insect's appendages stripped from any creature. What was once a part of one was now a dead trophy, motionless and grotesquely perfect.

How could anyone reduce something so alive and so sacred to this violation of all that's holy?

This was not admiration.

It was nothing but an insultingly brutal display of power by those who claimed to love her. The vivid portrait of the perfect family feet's away seemed as horrified as one felt, yet assuming it as a sign of any guilt would be foolish. They could be shocked to be found out. They could know but chose to ignore the abyss of emotions threatening to take consciousness away. Leaning before the frame as one's body was barely supporting the visceral reaction this evoked.

It had been so long since the last time someone claimed to understand. Them who avoided eye contact no longer knew of humanity and not because of the brutal act but because those who claimed to love her would see beauty where there was only mutilation.

Writing prompt:

@luludeluluramblings

[incarnadinedreams]

This isn't really new or anything but the more I reread random passages the more convinced I am that there's something very unique about the way Jiang Cheng reacts to Wen Ning and it's just so interesting!

I'm convinced it's more than just being angry. It's more than just hating him, or blaming him for Jin Zixuan's death or his sister's life. It's more than being a Wen, and it comes long before so many of those tragedies unfold anyway.

There's a sort of urgent, visceral reaction to Wen Ning's presence that just has this different feeling to it than how he reacts to any of the other characters. Even characters he has strong emotional responses to, it's never with the same panic or recklessness. It's not the same as the whole "vengeful wrath, fathomless hatred, or raving ecstasy" situation he's got going on with Wei Wuxian (sexy as that might be).

When it's Wei Wuxian, it's all "...well, well. So you're back?" and "Haven't you got anything to say to me?" Even when he's not being very nice, even when he's throwing teacups and furious at Wei Wuxian, there's still an edge of calmness in the way he lashes out. He's fucking mad but he's had more than a decade to think about this and he's got things to say and he's trying so hard to get a reaction from Wei Wuxian that he just won't give him.

But he can't tolerate having Wen Ning anywhere near him. Much of the time he instantly lashes out, physically, in ways to create space between them. He's mean to Wen Ning, but he doesn't really have much to say to him; he just wants to get away from him.

It really stuck out to me how instinctive and instantaneous and emotional that reaction is when I was reading this passage from chapter 81 (ExR translation since I've got it on hand in digital text form), when Jin Ling returns Zidian and rushes back into the fray during the Second Siege:

When Jiang Cheng was unaware, he stuffed Zidian's ring back into his hand and sprinted toward the crowd, all the way up to the most dangerous area before the mouth of the cave. Jiang Cheng was about to chase after him when he managed to slice a few corpses, staggering. He felt that Sandu was no lighter than hundreds of pounds. Two female corpses threw themselves at him from both directions.

Jiang Cheng cursed. As he lifted his sword again, another pair of hands tore the two corpses into pieces, "Sect Leader..."

Jiang Cheng lost his temper as soon as he heard the voice. He kicked Wen Ning away and cursed, "Get the fuck away from me!"

Obviously that is not very nice and poor Wen Ning didn't deserve a kick for being legitimately helpful there, but the point is that not only does he lash out - the reaction happens even when he's clearly got higher priorities going on in a chaotic situation. Throughout that entire event he reacts in a somewhat more even-keeled way to almost everything except Wen Ning being in his vicinity.

And it's not just after Wen Ning's death, not just after he became Wei Wuxian's greatest weapon, not just after he was forced to kill Jin Zixuan - it's specifically a pattern established from the moment he woke up in the Supervisory Office without a core:

Before he could say anything, those sun robes reflected against Jiang Cheng's eyes. His pupils suddenly shrunk.

Jiang Cheng kicked Wen Ning, toppling over the bowl of medicine. The black liquid all spilled onto Wen Ning. Wei WuXian wanted to take the bowl of medicine. He pulled up Wen Ning as well, who had been shocked speechless. Jiang Cheng roared at him, "What's wrong with you?!"

At this point he doesn't even know how he was rescued, since he was unconscious for all of that, and thinks they're in a Wen trap and likely going to die (or worse). But there's so many echoes of that interaction again, and again, and again between them.

And combined with Wen Ning's remarks during the scene just before this, where he tells Wei Wuxian about the discipline whip injuries and how Jiang Cheng 'should have other injuries as well', the way the narrative is so deliberately ambiguous on what exactly occurred, it all makes me want to crawl up the walls and gnaw on the light fixtures wailing WHAT DID YOU SEE, WEN NING?! WHAT DID YOU SEE?

At a minimum, Jiang Cheng knows that Wen Ning was there at Lotus Pier prior to his capture by the Wen guards, because they'd both seen Wen Ning examining Jiang corpses on the training field before they fled for Meishan.

But everything after that is only implication and subtext and suppositions and speculation, not directly stated in the text. But based on his reaction, you can pry my headcanon from my cold dead hands that that Wen Ning probably witnessed all or much of what happened to Jiang Cheng after he was captured, and Jiang Cheng knows it.

I've also posted before how I think there's an at least nonzero chance that Jiang Cheng was never directly told that Wen Ning wasn't actually there with Wen Chao when they saw him early on, but came later to try to help (because when Wen Ning gives Wei Wuxian that information Jiang Cheng isn't conscious, and nobody tells Jiang Cheng anything. I don't think that headcanon changes much either way, but there is a slight difference, at least emotionally, between 'I helped you while I was there to slaughter your clan and destroy your life' and 'I came when I heard my crazy cousin was slaughtering your clan and tried to help you' and I think it's a juicy thing to add to the pile of misunderstandings they each have of the other's motivations and actions).

Which, if I go with these two ideas together, really drives home what a bespoke and specific nightmare the way the Golden Core reveal played out - not only the substance of the reveal, but the fact it was Wen Ning who revealed it.

He was already furious that they were even there at Lotus Pier, particularly Wen Ning. But the way it all happens it feels like it's not just echoes of the amplified emotions of the confrontation with Lan Wangji & Wei Wuxian in the Ancestral Hall, it's not just Wen Ning being a Wen, or even Jin Zixuan's death, the way the narration calls out. It feels like there are deeper layers to it.

I also feel a bit stupid for not noticing before this probably extremely obvious to literally everyone else who isn't a dumbass like me parallel of Wen Ning getting a gruesome scorching whip mark across his chest at Lotus Pier in the course of saving Wei Wuxian (more or less, sort of - we know as readers Jiang Cheng was intentionally trying not to hurt them with Zidian, but I don't think Wen Ning knew that when he jumped in).

Jiang Cheng looked to find that the uninvited guest was Wen Ning. Immediately, he raged, "Who let you inside Lotus Pier?! How dare you!"

He could manage to tolerate others, but definitely not Wen Ning, the Wen-dog who put his hand through Jin ZiXuan's heart and ended both his sister's happiness and her life. Just a look, and he felt the urge to kill him right there. How dare he step foot on the earth of Lotus Pier—he really was looking for his death!

Because of the two lives and many other reasons, Wen Ning had always felt guilty, and so he'd always been somewhat scared of Jiang Cheng, consciously avoiding him all the time. Right now, however, he blocked Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi as he faced him, taking the hard lash. A gruesome scorch climbed across his chest, but still he didn't flinch.

I don't know that it actually means anything but it's making me FEEL THINGS incoherently at this specific moment, so. Also I find it legitimately sad that Wen Ning has to live with guilt over things that happened when he was controlled by someone else, though the scene before the Ancestral Hall when Jin Ling starts crying on the boat is probably a better example of that. Anyway.

It's just there's so, so many layers to how uniquely horrible it is for Jiang Cheng that he not only finds out about the Golden Core transfer this way, but also that Wen Ning, specifically, directly witnessed this life-shatteringly huge deception and sacrifice too - while Jiang Cheng was unconscious, no less.

And, well, we know how everything got capped off in that scene...

Obviously the shock of the information was going to get a huge reaction no matter what, no matter who or how he found out. Even without the Wen Ning element, it already hits every one of his deepest weaknesses and insecurities and fears.

But to come from the guy who'd witnessed his family being slaughtered, who'd witnessed who-knows-what humiliations heaped on him (who also happens to be the same fucking guy that Wei Wuxian thought it was worth leaving Yunmeng Jiang for, breaking his promise for...), the guy he blames for his sister's tragic fate (whether that blame is misplaced or not), the guy he exhibits a panic response towards even decades later, and goddamn.

There are just so many layers to this perfect little nightmare reveal on so many different levels aren't there?

There's just SO much meaty stuff for these two to dig into post-canon and all we get is an extra with a 'oh yeah sometimes Jiang Cheng yells on night hunts and Wen Ning is there' about it?!

I should probably just shut up and go read some Jiang Cheng and Wen Ning focused fics or something (whether romantic or platonic that's probably an area I really haven't explored enough vs. the amount of sheer interesting hints and material the novel gives to work with! If by some miracle anyone made it to the end of this beast feel free to drop any recs that explore them, especially that 'what did Wen Ning see?!' aspect of the whole situation because that is the current little brain worm haunting me right now).

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Stupid Reasons

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: the brothers make you get a haircut, but you’re not so happy about it.

Dean couldn’t stop replaying the moment in his mind. Over and over he watched the vamp snatch a fistful of your hair as you tried to run away, and he yanked you towards him. He saw the look of shock on your face, quickly replaced by pain when the vampire bit down on your neck.

Sam had the vamp’s head detached from its body before you could lose much blood, but still the scene replayed over and over in Dean’s head.

Which led to the conversation he was currently having.

“It’s not a big deal, it’s just a haircut, kid,” Dean said for what felt like the thousandth time. His words had the same affect on you as the last time he’d asked.

“I’d it’s not a big deal, then don’t make me do it,” you responded.

“You just got your neck chomped on by a vamp because of your hair, and you don’t want it cut?” Dean challenged.

“I’ll tie it back next time,” you said.

Dean shook his head.

“I’m not putting your life in danger for something as stupid as your hair.”

For some reason, this comment shut you down completely. The resolved dropped from your face, and you were utterly silent the rest of the way to Supercuts. Dean was starting to feel bad about what he’d said, if only because of your visceral reaction.

When the salon worker asked how short you wanted your hair, you merely shrugged defeatedly and waved in your brothers’ general direction.

“About here,” Sam put his pointer finger against your hair right about shoulder-length. It was already several inches, but he didn’t want to go any higher because he knew how upset you were about it already.

Your silence stayed throughout the haircut, but so did your brothers. Sam was pretty sure that their hovering was annoying the woman cutting your hair, but he didn’t care.

He didn’t get why you were so upset about this, but he wasn’t about to let you be upset alone, and neither was Dean.

“Alright, you’re done!” The woman said finally. “Do you wanna see?”

You just shook your head, hopping off of the chair and turning to leave.

“Thank you,” Sam directed at the woman with a sigh, before following you out the door.

“You know, I think you should take a look,” Dean said. “I think you look great.”

You didn’t respond.

“Honey, c’mon,” Sam began. “Talk to us, what was so bad about this?”

“It’s stupid,” you mumbled, and Dean recognized his own words with a grimace.

“No it’s not, not if it’s got you this upset,” Dean said firmly. “Talk to me, come on.”

“I just wanted to look like her.” You were still mumbling, and your eyes hadn’t risen from the concrete at your feet.

“Look like w—“ Sam cut off his own question with a sigh. “Oh.”

Dean noticed your hands starting to shake as you rubbed at your eyes.

“Dad’s always pulling out that picture of her that he loves. He-he always talks about how pretty she was. I-I just wanted to look like her.” You sniffled.

“Hey.” Dean beat Sam to pulling you into his arms. He felt your shaking hands grip onto his jacket as you let your tears fall against his shoulder. “Shh, it’s ok sweetheart.”

“I told you it was stupid.” Your voice was muffled against his shirt, and he pulled away to look into your eyes.

“No, no it’s not,” Dean insisted.

“C’mere.” Sam pulled you away from Dean and into his own arms. “There’s nothing stupid about wanting to look like your mom, ok? But listen up.” he knelt down to look at you better. “You’re beautiful, ok? No matter what your hair looks like, you’re just as pretty as mom, ok?”

You didn’t seem convinced, but you nodded just the same.

“There we go.” Sam smiled.

“You wanna see?” Dean asked, as you reached Baby. He gestured towards the rearview mirror, and you hesitantly leaned forwards to look. At your slight smile, Dean grinned and rubbed your hair. “See, told you!”

You giggled and shoved his hand away, still smiling.

That smile stayed for the rest of the day.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade

[auspicioustidings]

At Ease

Summary: Ghost trains you to take commands. Basically a big ole power play to get you into sub space without him needing to play with you to do it. Words: 1.2k CWs: smut (light I think)

“Corporal.”

“Lieutenant Riley, sir.”

“Drills at 1900.”

“Yes sir.”

Fuck, you hated drills.

—

“Fall in.”

You took a breath and sank into soldier mode. You could do this, you’d impress him this time. No mistakes. The bed was made with the same crisp grey sheets that yours was, but owing to his rank he had a double and no other people sharing with him. You hoped you’d have a room like this one day as you crawled up onto the bed, kneeling facing him and awaiting further orders.

“Present arms.”

You turned away from him, feeling unsettled when your eyes weren’t on his. That skull mask had scared you at the start, but now it was like a comfort blanket of sorts. You hated not being able to see if he had his attention on you or not as you sank onto your elbows, keeping your ass up towards him with your head resting on the mattress.

“Inspection arms.”

You let your knees spread further and tried to undo the button on your trousers as quickly as possible. Hesitation was weakness, hesitation would make him grunt in disappointment and bring an end to drills and you hated when that happened. You hated how you could never get to the end, hated that you’d never gotten praise because you’d never earned it.

His hands were quick and practiced in ripping the trousers down off of you, leaving you fully exposed to the cold air as he took his time folding them and putting them on the bedside table. You focused your breathing, trying not to move even as you felt a trickle of moisture escape your hole, the sensation of that liquid traveling slowly through your slit and towards your clit making your cunt clench.

“Attention.”

You rolled onto your back and planted your feet on the mattress, knees wide apart and hands by your side as you stared at the ceiling. It was torture, being at attention while he just stood and said nothing. The silence made your breathing so much more obvious and you fought to calm yourself.

He must be able to see the slow throbbing of your clit as your poor cunt got more and more needy. It has shocked you the first time that your body had such a visceral reaction to this, to him. But now you knew that it didn’t matter, you had to follow orders regardless of how you ached. You could do it this time, you could withstand the mounting desperation.

You vaguely felt your right leg tremble and fought to get it to still. His hand planted on your knee and the jolt of the contact went right through you. He had never touched you during this before.

“Stand fast.”

You gritted your teeth, trying to stay still even with the warmth of his hand feeling like it may as well be him sliding inside of you. God, you needed something inside of you. You needed to be touched. When the warmth left, your eyes tried to slide forward, to see him.

“Eyes forward!”

You stiffened and your eyes shot back to the ceiling, hands by your sides now white knuckled gripping at the sheets. You could do this. It must have been a half hour before he gave another order and your whole body was wound tight. You felt swollen, like a balloon that’s latex was stretched so thin it was ready to burst from the slightest change. Your clit throbbed in time to your heartbeat.

“At ease corporal.”

This was new, you had never gotten this far. You visualised the position in your head and felt tears fight to fall. You would need to clasp your hands behind your back and the movement was going to give friction you were terrified of.

“Not going to tell you again, at ease!” Ghost barked and it felt like praise, felt like he wanted you to succeed.

The shift was almost painful as you fought to get into position, to follow commands instead of curling up and shoving your hands between your legs to relieve the ache. Your heels lifted as your hands clasped behind your back and your back arched. The movement caused an absolute flood from your cunt, some dripping down onto the sheets and some following the contours of your body to pool at your tighter hole.

You don’t know how much time passed as you struggled against your own body. You were denying it and it screamed at you, every muscle tense as your blood rushed around your ears and slammed into your core, plumping up your clit with every beat of your heart. You were sure he must see how swollen it was, glistening still with the wetness that had swirled round it from when you had been presenting.

After a while it was like you were floating, your body so rigid and needy that your brain had to detach to avoid giving in. You would follow orders, you would do this.

—

Ghost smiled. Finally. You probably didn’t even realise you were sobbing now. Despite how much the intense arousal was starting to hurt you, you had found that place that let you stay still, let you think about nothing but following his orders. He looked at the mess between your legs, all swollen and wet and throbbing. He could do anything to you right now, take whatever he wanted, and you would stay right where he had ordered you to. He knew he had been right about you when he had put your record on Price’s desk as a person of interest, you just needed some training.

“Ok corporal, relax” he said as he bent over and blew a puff of air on your clit.

You fell apart beautifully, the permission meaning that even the stimulation of that puff of air sent an orgasm crashing through you. Your muscles spasmed as your back bowed, mouth twisted in a silent scream. Ah fuck it, good soliders deserved rewards no? Three of his thick, gloved fingers jammed into your greedy cunt and she accepted them eagerly, sucking on them as if trying to milk them as your bliss just kept going and going and your limbs thrashed.

By the time it was over your body was loose and useless, crumpled onto his bed in exhaustion. He grinned seeing that you sluggishly tried to rearrange yourself back into some form of parade rest. It didn’t say much for his own self-control that he quickly got his hard cock out and tugged himself off using your own arousal as lube. It didn’t take long for him to spill on your pussy.

“Fall out soldier” he cooed, brushing wet fingers across your cheek as you passed out now that you had permission.

He watched you for a while, just content to see the rising and falling of your chest. You had done so well for him. Price arrived at some point, pleased with his report at how the training was paying off. He hadn’t been entirely convinced when Ghost had first suggested you, but as the lieutenant fed his fingers to Gaz to suck the combination of you and Ghost off of them and Soap began gently cleaning you up and stripping you out of your top so he could dress you in clean pyjamas, he was thankful Ghost was a stubborn arse who insisting on training you anyway.

Once you were clean and settled they left the room to let Ghost shower and crawl into his bed next to you, maskless and content with his success, wrapping you up in his arms and enjoying a dreamless sleep.

[bunbitti]

Hello! Could I request a Sunday x halovian reader who has clipped wings? (Can be platonic or romantic)

Clipped.

:))

romantic-ish?

~800 words

tw: do clipped wings on a halovian count as mutilation? Also, Sunday being Sunday the control freak he is and pulling some strings behind your back

You were one of few Halovians that had more than just a halo. There were the Oak siblings, of course, who had both head wings and back wings, but not many others. 

Your wings were clipped. Not that a Halovian could fly (beyond the wings that would need to be massive to carry a person’s weight, the rest of their bodies were similar to a normal human’s, and therefore unfit for aerial movement), but every time you looked down at your wings, you felt a bit trapped. Regardless of whether it was done for ‘medical’ reasons or for anything else, it didn’t change the connotations. 

You weren’t meant to fly on your own, let alone succeed. Always working long hours doing the same thing, no change to your schedule, let alone improvement. Barely any time for yourself after chores, meals, and sleep. 

Your wings were always clipped whenever they molted. Again, again, again. You could never escape from it. You just wanted to give up at this point.

Your wings didn’t look right when in their resting position around your torso. Didn’t feel right, either. Feeling the flat, unnatural edge made you cringe. Even flapping them in the air felt viscerally wrong. You often held your hands near your waist as though to cover them up and pull the attention away from them, even if nobody was actually paying attention. 

That was when you met Sunday. Ever the charismatic Oak Family head, he was sometimes walking around to make sure things in the Land of the Dreams were working properly. 

He’d found you at your job in the Moment of Daybreak, weaving products that would be sold to the wealthiest of customers, all for the support of the Harmonious system that ran Penacony. He’d been passing by, making small-talk and greeting people to see how their jobs were going and if he should make any managerial changes to make their lives easier, but you looked down and noticed his raven-blue back wings neatly wrapped around his torso under his blazer. 

They were clipped. Instinctively, you wrapped your own back wings tighter around yourself, but it only drew his attention. 

His eyes followed your gaze to his own wings, then moved over to yours, which were far more harshly clipped than his own. At least at first glance, his looked relatively normal. Most outsiders didn’t know enough Halovians that had their wings out of their clothes to notice, and either way, his wings looked like a vest on top of his usual turtleneck. 

You missed the flicker of shock and pity in his eyes when he saw your clipped wings. 

In fact, he acted like nothing happened at all, and so you brushed it off. Maybe he hadn’t seen it. But you’d already gotten attached to the man countless levels in the Family hierarchy above you, making up wild stories in your head about how maybe he was also trapped in some way. 

However, you found yourself bumping into him gradually more often, almost so gradually that you hadn’t noticed. Not until you told some friends (were they friends? Or just acquaintances?) for the fifth time in a week that you met Sunday again, and they told you that nobody runs into the Oak Family head that often. 

Huh. 

Oh, well. Maybe he just likes you a bit. 

He invited you to private meals once in a while, under some excuse of wanting to reward members of the Family so they would be motivated to continue supporting the Harmony. Even he knew that a monotonous, exhausting life would eventually wear people out beyond what any motivation could provide. You didn’t need to know that you were the only Family member being ‘rewarded’. 

It was at those times that his wings were out instead of folded tightly around his waist. When he greeted you at the door and guided you inside, one wing would be lightly pressed against your back to usher you in, just as his hand rested on your upper back. 

His wings brushed against yours more times than you could count. Eventually, you were comfortable enough to let your own wings unfold, and returned the gesture. To touch wings, for Halovians, was something reserved only for the closest and dearest to a person. 

It was a while before you noticed you hadn’t been pressured to have your wings clipped, never realizing that it was because of Sunday’s influence. By the next molt, which tended to be very slow for Halovians, your wings were back to their full glory. 

The next time you shared a dinner with Sunday, you decided to be bold and put your wings behind his back to pull him close and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“—!”

— — — — — — — 

You awoke abruptly from a sweet dream that was supposed to last forever. 

There were supposed to be 7 rest days in a week.

The Dreampool is wet. 

You look down at your wings. 

Clipped.

[lees-chaotic-brain]

For your recent event can I request

Blue Ocean and #2

Thank you

Three Little Words (Gojo x Reader)

CW: rejection, blood, slight spoilers for the jjk movie, implied past satosugu i guess, mutual pining, reader is female, implied death, brief mentions of blood, mentions of injury

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"Sorry, not interested."

Three little words. Three little words was all it took to shatter your heart.

You had spent the last three years of your life trying to track down the person attached to the other end of your soulmate thread.

All that time spent hoping. All that time spent daydreaming about what he would be like, only for this.

For you to meet him because he was your new coworker, and fellow teacher at Jujutsu Tech. For him to reject you upon first sight.

You hadn't even spoken a word yet. All it took was him glancing at the red ribbon connecting the two of you for him to shut you down.

Your mind went blank. There was no way you heard him correctly, right...?

"What?"

"I'm not interested."

He stated casually, as if he was just commenting on the weather.

"You-You don't even know my name yet!"

With all logic having flown out the window, this was the best you could come up with.

"Oh, you're right. What's your name?"

Stupefied, you told him.

"That's pretty. Anyways, it's not you, it's me."

Taking your blank gaze as understanding, he perked up.

"My name's Gojo Satoru. I hope we can be friends!"

With an enthusiastic handshake, he was off, leaving you standing in shock, unsure of what just happened.

Reaching up and touching your cheek, you were surprised to find that it was wet.

Huh, that was strange. When did you start crying?

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Days turned to weeks turned to months.

At first, things were a little awkward between you and your soulmate.

You were hurt, angry and confused. But the more time you spent with him, the more those feelings ebbed away, his presence a balm that soothed all your hurts and insecurities.

Why. Why did he have to reject you? Why did he have to be so insufferable? Why did he have to be so goddamn attractive? Why did he have to be aware that he was so goddamn attractive?

Why couldn't he send you any clear signals?

One day he was playfully calling you his 'best bud' while the two of you played pranks on Nanami or got into mischief.

And the next he was tenderly cupping your cheek and running his thumb over the dark bags under your eyes; concern evident on his face as he quietly asked if you were doing okay, and telling you to take a break.

And if he really wasn't interested, why didn't he officially break the soulmate bond? Why did he change the subject every time you tried to bring it up?

It was driving you insane. You were falling for him. And hard. But the echo of his words replayed in your head every time you considered broaching the subject.

You didn't know what to do.

So you did the only thing you could; you kept it professional. After all, the two of you were coworkers, nothing more, nothing less.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Gojo was tired of just being your coworker.

He wanted more. Had wanted more from the moment he laid eyes on your breathtaking face.

Sure, it had broken a visceral part of him to reject you, but if it was to keep you safe, he would do it a million times over.

However, no matter how much he told himself he couldn't be with you, that he had to officially sever the soulmate bond, he couldn't bring himself to officially break the tie that made the two of you soulmates.

The more time he spent with you, the more time he got to spend with you, the harder he fell.

He had never felt like this towards anyone. The only person that had ever come close before this had been Suguru, but his relationship with him had been soured by the fact that they both knew Gojo's soulmate was out there.

But when you were in his life, his entire world lit up. Everything was brighter and more vibrant. He felt like you saw him for Satoru, the man he was, instead of the burdens fate and Jujutsu society had placed upon his shoulders.

So selfishly he had kept the soulmate bond intact.

And now, staring at your mangled form laying before him, the precious blood that belonged in your veins leaking out onto the floor as you struggled to breathe, he remembered.

He remembered why he wasn't allowed to love. Why he had pushed you away.

God, he was so stupid to think that Suguru wouldn't go after you. He was so stupid for believing that his friend wasn't irredeemable.

And his stupidity and selfishness could very well cost you your life.

"You never change, do you."

Only then did Gojo realize that he had been speaking aloud, voicing his inner turmoil as the two people he cared for most lay dying before him.

Suguru coughed, wincing as the motion aggravated his injuries.

"You say that she's injured because you selfishly clung to your soulmate bond, right?"

"What are you implying Suguru?"

Gojo asked, weariness and heartbreak in his voice as he applied pressure to your injuries. He couldn't take you to get help until he took care of Suguru, but he wanted to give his former best friend a chance to say his last words.

"What I'm saying is that she got hurt because you were selfish, yes, but not in the way you think you were. You aren't selfish because you refuse to break the bond. You were selfish because you kept your distance. You could've come to her rescue much earlier, but you didn't because doing so would admit that she meant something to you. And you were more comfortable keeping her at a distance, because you didn't want to have to fear losing her."

Suguru sighed, shifting to a more comfortable position.

"You know, I never hated the people at Jujutsu Tech. If she survives, tell her how you really feel. She deserves at least that. And after that, tell her I'm sorry, okay."

Gojo barked a laugh, tears burning the backs of his eyes as a looming sense of grief and apprehension filled him. He knew what he had to do next.

"Okay, I will."

He smiled.

"Wingmanning me till the end. My best friend."

His face softened as he reminisced on better times.

"My one and only."

Suguru returned the smile, and Gojo finished him, gently closing his eyes afterwards.

Standing and wiping the tears from his eyes, he turned and picked you up, before stepping into a new chapter of his life.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

When you woke up, you were greeted by the bright white of the hospital ceiling.

Groaning, you attempted to sit up, only to be stopped by the massive man-child sprawled across your lap.

With a snort, he shot up, disoriented as he rejoined the land of the waking.

Noticing you were awake, he froze, before reaching out and grabbing your hands.

"Can I say something?"

"Right now?"

You asked, a little confused as to what could be so important that he was waiting at your bedside for you to wake up.

"Yes."

His unusually somber tome threw you off.

"Of course. What's the matter?"

"I'm so sorry."

"Um, I'm confused. For what?"

"For rejecting you. This is by no means any excuse, but the last person I was close to abandoned me. I was afraid to let anyone get close to me, but instead of facing my fear, I excused it by telling myself that if I let myself care for you then curses would target you to get to me. So I told myself that it was to protect you instead of acknowledging that I'm selfish coward who was just trying to protect myself-"

"Hold up."

You cut off his rambling, needing a moment to process.

"Are you trying to tell me that you rejected me because you were afraid that in the end I was going to betray you, but you were too emotionally constipated to acknowledge that, so instead you convinced yourself that you were pushing me away for my own protection?"

Downcast he nodded.

"And you're apologizing for that."

"Yes. If I had just protected you by staying by your side, you never would have gotten hurt! The only reason you're in here is because I was too scared to admit that I love you!"

You froze.

"Say it again."

"What."

"What you just said."

Realization dawned on Gojo's face, and his cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink.

"I love you."

He murmured shyly, looking at the comforter.

You leaned forwards and hugged him, burying your head in his chest.

"Again."

You whispered, lips brushing against the fabric of his uniform.

"I love you."

A content smile spread across your face.

"I'm still sorta pissed at you, but you have no idea how happy you just made me."

You said, nuzzling into his shirt.

"I love you too."

He froze in disbelief. There was no way you returned his feelings. He didn't deserve that.

"Do you really forgive me?"

"Mmmm, say it one more time for me."

"I love you."

"Okay I forgive you."

Finally at peace, you basked in the warmth from being in the arms of your soulmate.

Who knew that those three little words were all it took.

Three little words to heal your heart.

Cuddling with soulmate, you knew that you would be okay, as long as he continued to tell you those three little words.

You deep personal reflection was interrupted by Gojo's voice.

"Oh, by the way, Suguru says sorry."

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: This Confession Has Meant Nothing (Yandere Derek Goffard x Reader)

Title: This Confession Has Meant Nothing [Yandere Derek Goffard x Reader]

For Horrorfest request:

I don't have much of an idea beyond Derek as Patrick Bateman style serial killer. You're his final girl/boy. Surviving his spree.  he hates how fascinated he is with you.

Word Count: 748

notes: yandere, mentions of killing, derek wants to (maybe) kill you; reader is a sex worker

You are one, stupid ugly piece of shit. You’re worthless. Gutter trash. So far beneath him that you’re almost not worthy of killing; not worthy of him scuffing his shoes, handcrafted genuine leather that costs more than rent at your shitty apartment for a year. More, maybe. 

You are nothing. Just some bones and a meat suit, just something to bide his time with, something for him to (maybe) fuck and film and when he’s bored enough, dissect. He even tells you his real name (Derek Goffard, and you looked impressed, and you SHOULD BE) because he’s going to kill you so why not? 

You’re just something to discard with the morning trash, the morning paper, maybe his nice shoes too because he can buy a new pair whenever he fucking wants. An inconsequential speck.

And yet.

He can’t stop thinking about you. 

About the way your lip curled up at him when you realized what he’d done to Susie or Cheryl or whatever her name was. Doesn’t matter. A woman he bought for the night after he bought you, and you were pretending to get along so well that for a moment he assumed your first reaction to seeing her bleeding out from the knife sounds in her torso would be to reach out. Grief. Horror. Shock.

But no. Instead, you’d looked at him… straight at him… like you had the fucking right And you sneered. Actually sneered! With this look of hatred in your eyes that told him you thought you were better than him, that he was shit and you were gold.

You really were fucking stupid, weren’t you? 

But then how--and the thought creeps into his brain and he smacks it out viscerally with his hand--did you get away from him? How did you make it out of the condo, into the hallway, down the stairs (ALL those stairs) and out the front door into the night? How hasn’t he found you yet?

Maybe you didn’t have to be smart to survive. Yeah. That made sense. Animals survive in the wild all the time, don’t they? Not all rabbits are eaten by wolves. Some are just fast enough to scurry off into some hole to hide out in, to live another day, to fuck and breed and repeat the cycle until they are either roadkill or fall prey to an eagle or some shit like that.

You were his rabbit. 

But he wasn’t going to let you get away. He couldn’t imagine you getting away, cleaning yourself up, getting out of the city. You’d get some job that pays the rent and meet someone; maybe you two would have kids, and you’d be a grandparent or something ridiculous like that, decades down the line.

No.

That wasn’t what he wanted for you. Not when he’d killed so many others in the past few weeks. Not when he recognized you for what you were: his, in some way. His to kill. His to finish with. 

Yeah, that would be nice. After he killed you, he’d take a break from it for a while. Maybe see if he could get a promotion at his dad’s business. Find someone to get engaged with--appearances, and all that--and pop out a kid. He could always go back to killing if he felt like it.

That’s the way the world works. He was allowed to kill because he was richer and smarter and better looking. You were going to die because you were nothing beneath his (expensive) shoes. 

He just has to find you first. Oh, and when he does… he presses his face against the car window, breath fogging it up. He can just imagine what he’ll do to you. Hurt you. Kill you. Keep you? All three sounded enticing.

His fingers itch, his cock goes hard, just thinking about it.

The street lights are dim in this part of the city, but bright enough for people to make out the faces on the corners, the curve of bodies standing close to the curb. 

If you ran, you might have run right back here; where you ply your trade and get your drugs and maybe have a few people you call friends. It’s where he picked you up the first time, after all.

And he’s got all the time and money in the world to track you down again.