#i wrote this here on tumblr this is completely unedited

[sommerregenjuniluft]

Trick or treat!!!!

innoooo hii! have some volleyball au brainrot (lets call it what it is atp, it's a haikyuu au) aka jegulus at the national youth trainings camp

Regulus is all the way over on the other field when it happens.

Not even on the opposing side from James, as in, on the same court.

They've been sorted into four teams, two practice matches going on at the same time and Regulus had just set up for a sprint, the balls of his feet squeaking against the linoleum.

It was the moment right after he'd jumped off the ground, arm stretched far behind his head and back arched. A millisecond in that made him go completely numb.

Cold.

Had him faltering mid jump, his breath held, wedged weirdly askew in his lungs. Wrong.

Something was wrong.

The snap resounded through the gym before Regulus' shoes were even back to touching the floor.

James' cry came only a blink of a moment later but Regulus was already twisting around to him.

Landing sloppily on the ground, tripping halfway. Stumbling. Pushing past his asigned teammates.

James.

James.

Another pained sound. Almost a wail. Strangled, high-pitched, wounded.

No.

He can't be--

Regulus doesn't see anything. Can't see anything.

He stumbles across the gym deluriously. It seems to take ages until he spots a flesh of ridiculously bright orange. James' shoes.

Regulus doesn't think, he just goes. Just moves.

In the back of his mind he's dimly aware of the fact that he pushes one of the national youth trainers aside to get to James faster. There is a boy curled around James where he's half slumped on the ground. A dark shirt, Dolohov maybe? Regulus doesn't give a fuck.

He yanks at the collar of the other boy's shirt, fabric making a sound in protest and the unimportant person yelps. Someone curses, someone else sounds pissed off. Words directed at Regulus.

Regulus doesn't care.

James whimpers as Regulus falls to his knees next to him on the hard linoleum. His expression is twisted with pain so much Regulus has never seen before.

Everything warps in the air around them. Doesn't quite feel real.

Wrongwrongwrong.

Regulus feels himself shiver before he even looks down.

There's a horrible sick feeling crawling up Regulus' throat, his head too light, his stomach turned upside down.

The breath he draws in is shaky and insufficent. His chest heaves and trembles and the only reason he feels that at all is because of the way James has a big hand fisted in the front of his jersey. Regulus clinging to his sweaty arm like it's the only thing keeping him upright.

He digs his blunt nails into the dips between James' knuckles, the other palm clutching at the older boy's shoulder.

"Reg," James sounds close to crying, and his eyes snap to chestnut brown ones. Their filled with tears and Regulus swallows against the feeling of throwing up.

Rasps something in response, he doesn't know what, squeezes James' hand.

The setter's head falls back with a whine as his whole body shakes and Regulus shushes him absently.

And Regulus braces himself, hold his breath and turns his head stiffly to glance down James' body but nothing could have prepared him for the absolute horror that is experiencing to see James' leg bent at the knee at an terrifyingly unnatural angle.

-

trick or treat fic writer as game

[rjalker]

Flatland: An Adventure in Many Dimensions, a 2024 translation into casual English, is done!

You can read and download it completely 100% for free on the Internet Archive!

When it's done loading, you will be able to read it directly online, and the Internet Archive will automatically generate audiobook versions with text to speech.

You can also download and torrent various versions as PDFs, epubs, and editable documents so you can change the font, paragraph styles, and do anything else you want with it, like give everyone neopronouns or turn them into unicorns!

I will also be making my own audiobook version at some point. but that's gonna take a while since this is around 38,000 words long. You can make your own too! And you can translate this into other languages!

Edit: The "lazy" (unedited) audiobook is now available on youtube! It is in two videos, since my computer wouldn't let me combine them lol.

“https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLpFcEwm88RUsMYmhY6DBYZcIvvKv6_ZS3”

Did I mention this is public domain? Because I hate capitalism and I'm poor and I want other people to also be able to enjoy books for free.

Buy the cheapest possible print version for $7.45 (I get $2).

This version is a paperback with no illustrations, no prefaces, a greyscale cover to make it as cheap to print as possible, so that more people can afford to buy it.

Buy the regular print version for $22.17 (I get $5).

This version is a hardpack with illustrations, the preface from the original author, and one from me.

You can also download all the HD illustrations included in this story here on the Internet Archive.

If you enjoy reading it, you can also donate directly to "TinyelFlatland" on paypal!

And if I haven't made it clear yet, this is Public Domain. You are 1million% encouraged to download it, print it, share it, do literally anything you want with it. I am 100% serious.

Now you can all join me in laughing at the narrator :)

Edit: oh wait lol. I realize I wrote this post assuming only people who already know what Flatland is will see it.

Uh so people who have no clue what Flatland is, here's a quick summary:

The narrator, who hides his identity using the alias "A. Square", is a resident of a world called Flatland, a world that only exists in two dimensions, where every person is a flat geometric shape. A. Square tells us the history and culture of his world, which is rife with bigotry that he buys into without question. Until New Year's Eve, before the first day of the year 2000, when a mysterious stranger claiming to come from the third dimension appears in his living room, and starts saying things that sound absurd, and performing what seem like magic tricks.

The original Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions, was published in 1884 by Edwin Abbot Abbot. It is both a scathing political satire criticizing the systems of bigotry in Victorian England, and an entertaining introduction to the concept of more than three dimensions.

Edit: Now there's an itch.io page too!

Edit again: And you can read it here on tumblr now! @flatland-a-2024-translation and on Pillowfort!

[painted-flag]

A Preview

This man and his minute of screen time has managed to push me out of fanfic writing retirement. I do not care if he is not Benjicot - he will always be Bloody Ben to me. This is an unedited preview of what I am writing currently.

Anyways, this imagine was originally planned to be around 5k words but, as I started to plan and write, that has changed. It will be around 10k words. I'm still in the process of writing and then editing that, but here is a little preview of what's to come. (I'm also completely out of my depth in understanding on how to post on Tumblr, so apologies if things are formatted weirdly. I'm an AO3 cave dweller)

The loud clap of thunder followed in succession by the flashing of lightning illuminated the library of Dragonstone. In the late hour of the wolf, Daenys found herself entombed within the walls of parchment, scanning drawn-up battle plans and strategies written by maesters who had nary seen a single battle. The feeling of ever-present stress loomed over her, creeping from the shadows that were not illuminated by scattered candles. That feeling of anxiety - pressing down harshly on her chest - had been a footnote in her life. 

Daenys did not need to be a dragon dreamer, like her namesake, to see the future of her house. War was coming, that much was obvious. She knew at the age of nine that her mother’s claim would be challenged and since then her life had been spent preparing. The intensity of conflict did not matter, Daenys would be prepared regardless. So, much like most nights, she had settled herself among the pages of books. Her body, worn from training all day, had relished in the feeling of sitting down in a plush chair. 

The book in her lap, An Analysis of Ground Moves of the First Dornish War, had begun to kill her mood. The maestor who wrote it had no skill of explanation, nor seemed to have care for fighting in general. She cursed his weak analyses on certain moves and more outwardly she cursed the tone in which he wrote when speaking of her Targaryen ancestors - in particular the women. Daenys leaned back in her chair and repressed the urge to chuck to tome across the room. All that access to knowledge and training yet maesters still seemed to fall short. 

The echoes of footsteps sounded between claps of thunder. Daenys glanced up to see her mother. Rhaenyra had her hair down in light waves. The nightclothes she wore were made from black and red fabrics and stitched in the fashion of dragon influences style, part of a matching set that the two women shared. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her mouth set in a line. The heir apparent sat down in the chair beside her daughter and glanced at the book in Daenys lap. “The hour is late, yet you are out of bed?” 

Daenys’ arms rested on the book, “Sleep could not come.” 

“Or have you run from sleep? Increasingly so, as of late.” Her mother’s observation cut deep. It was true, for Daenys had become antsy. More and more nights were spent reading, and even more days training with the sword. Exhaustion had become her friend and respite her enemy. She felt behind, as her training had only started a few years prior - after years of requesting to learn. Any day a war could break, yet she sat about for most of her life doing nothing but sewing and other pointless tasks to be a good wife.

“Don’t you feel it, mother? That sinking feeling of... something clawing at your feet for that damned throne.” Daenys’ gaze rose to meet Rhaenyra. As her mother's only daughter by birth, they held a certain bond. The ability to understand what one another wished to say without so much as a word. A twitch of the brow, a quiver of the lip, or the tilt of their head was worth more than what any uttered words could convey. Mother and daughter, one unable to live without the other. Like bees and flowers or the moon and sun. A push and pull of exchange. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

That's a little sneak peak. I plan to have it finished in the next day or two - it largely depends on my coursework. Especially since I am entering my third year, things are getting heated.

[ancha-aus]

Double Trouble... switched?

A tiny little thing for a lovely artist who's comics and art brings me much joy and inspiration.

Inspired by the lovely: @somegrumpynerd

And specifically this post, and this comic :3

Have fun :D

Warning, Very unedited and just me having fun ;P

(also most work was actually finding the posts to make the links work now enjoy this fanfic of which I will admit it took a few hours but I will not tell you how many words as I got no idea. Because I wrote the whole thing on tumblr and got no word counter here. Enjoy :D)

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dream knew something was wrong the moment he woke up.

His magic... it was being prickled by something. Over and over and over. It felt a bit like the sting of negativity but different.

That can't be right.

Drema struggled to full awareness as his mind tried to think of the reason why he felt the way he did.

Normally he only felt these type of prinkles and pain when he was near a lot of negativity but it had to be a lot a lot. As in, Nightmare using his own aura to fight him a lot.

But as he used his own magic of empathy he only felt a soft contentment and easy happiness in the air.

Had... Had the fight with Nightmare have afteraffects after all?!

They last fight, the one of the day before, had left Dream drained and tired. Nightmare and him had been fighting and Dream had tried to use his aura to get Nightmare to stay still and listen to him. Dream hadn't expected Nightmare to use his own magic aura. More surprising had been the fact that Nightmare's aura didn't clash with his own but instead reached him. It had burned and as Dream had said, he felt drained afterwards.

Dream hadn't thought too much off it. Especially as Nightmare had seemed exhausted and confused by it as well and he had quickly retreated afterwards.

But maybe Dream had been wrong.

Why else would he still feel this discomfort when there was nothing but positivity around him?

Dream groans as he finally manages to sit up in the very soft bed with many many pillows. Weird, Dream didn't have this many pillows on his bed and neither does Blue. Maybe Ink painted some more for them? Thoguth Ink rarely joined in on their sleepovers and Dream can't remember seeing Ink the day before.

Worse is that he feels disbalanced. Nothing feels right at the moment and the discomfort is making him cranky. He should just find Blue. Blue always makes everything better and has great ideas on what to try.

Yes, his best friend will help.

Dream opens his sockets only to stare in shock.

This... is not his room.

It isn't any room he recognizes.

It is a large beautiful place with a large, very large, bed with way too many pillows and soft blankets. There is a large bookcase just filled with books. The curtains are dark and shut. Next to him is a tiny alarm clock which reads that it is still very early in the morning.

Something else about his vision is off but Dream can't quite place it. Something that should be obvious but he can't make sense of it. He turns to the side and reaches for the bed only to freeze.

That is corruption. On his hand. And arm.

Dream feels himself start to panic as his soul pulses fast. Oh no. Oh no. What happened?! Calm down. Calm down-

Then he sees one of those corruption tentacles nad Dream flinches away, only to completely loose his balance and fall over sideways with a quiet yelp.

He lays frozen but can't feel any curiosity or hear anyone react.

He is starting to have an idea where he is and he isn't sure how to feel about this.

He slowly crawls to the side of the bed, only to keep misjudging the distance and he thinks he lost his depth perception which isn't good news.

He manages to get out of bed and only slightly panics at the sight of his own legs covered in corruption. Are it his own legs even?!

Dream pushes himself upright only almost fall over and he has to grab one of the poles of the large four poster bed to catch himself. He looks over his shoulder and is confronted with the sight of four tentacles shifting and idling behind him, all seemingly coming from his own back.

Dream takes a few unsteady steps and softly curses the way this feels. How does Nightmare DEAL with his tentacles?! How does he deal with the extra weight of it on his spine?! Dream already feels uncomfortable.

Dream manages to get to one of the two doors and opens it. He lets out a sigh of relieve when sees the bathroom. He flicks on the ligth in the room and manages to get to the mirror.

There in the mirror stands Nightmare. Staring at him in absolute shock.

Dream... Is in Nightmare's body.

Which means.

He is not at home.

Dream is in Nightmare's home.

-------

Nightmare tries to walk wiht confidence but it still takes effort to not overbalance for his lacking extra limbs.

When he woke up feeling comfortable and energised he had immediantly panic. He normally only felt that after they managed to make an universe fall fully into negativity and shift the balance.

Feeling that at home meant his boys felt unhappy and miserable and he would not have that.

Imagion his surprise when he sat up only to be in a completely different room and after a glance outside to realise he was in the Omega Timeline.

The one place he never had managed to get somekind of access too.

Nightmare wanted out right now because it didn't take a genius to figure out what happened.

Dream's and his magic had interacted strangly and connected with each other. Both had felt drained. Now Nightmare was in Dream's body.

Meaning, Dream was most likely in Nightmare's body. Meaning Dream was in Nightmare's hideout with his boys.

Nightmare didn't have time to panic or to have a crisis. He needed to somehow get to his own body and make them switch back. His minions needed constant supervision and management. Nightmare only just got Dust to agree to set an alarm clock and Horror had been improving with overeating.

He needed to get to them.

Which meant.

Be the perfect Dream so no one would think something was wrong and enable him to sneak out and search for himself.

This is starting to get annoying.

Nightmare had gotten dressed in Dream's clothes and got ready to leave.

Only for Blue to have shown up.

Which is what brought Nightmare to were he was now. Trying and struggling to maintain a facade he hadn't had time to prepare.

"You sure you are okay Dream?" Blue keeps staring at him as if he expects Nightmare to just spill the beans.

Wait. Does Dream do that? Does Dream just tell Blue everything? Probably right? But what do they normally talk about?

Nightmare is honestly unsure what it is that is between his brother and Blue. Nightmare knows that Blue and Dream are always together and Dream seems rather protective about Blue.

Nightmare realises he is taking too long to answer and puffs up his chest and speaks, being thankful for the small amount of luck there is for him in this multiverse that the voice he speaks with still sounds like Dream "Of course I am alright! It is a wonderful day and I want to spend it heloing others!" Dream and his ever need to please people and be liked.

Blue continues to grin at him, one brow slightly raised "Wowie! you are in a good mood today! Happy to hear you seem alright after the fight from yesterday."

Nightmare nods "But of course! Now! Lets get to work." and he starts walking. Only slightly falling fore over as he tries to balance for soemthign that isn't there.

"Dream!" Blue is by his side and tries to help him upright. The worry around him is slightly surprising.

Nightmare holds up a hand as he tries, and succeeds to steady himself. Old memories return of how to walk without his tendrils. He got this. "I am fine. Just a slight misstep... shall we?" Wait, how does Dream speak anyone? All the interactions Nightmare can remember were from them in battle. Which Ngihtmare knows is not a good reference for when you speak casually with others. The last interactions that Nightmare had with Dream wihtout fighting were... were from back at the tree... when both had been 6 and before their magical growth.

...

Ngihtmare doubts Dream still acts as his six year old self, even if he sometimes seems just as naiev to the world.

Blue frowns at him "If you are sure. You sure you want to go out already?"

Nightmare nods "But of course!"

Blue gives him another grin "Well. If you are sure. Let's go!"

----------------

Dream doesn't know what to do or say.

What do you say to your enemies when you are suddenly in their boss's body, who happens to be your twin. like. How do you decide what to say?

Dream tries to remain quiet and just watch. That is probabyl what Ngihtmare does right? Just watch and glare and tell them to not bother him?

Their happiness is burning him. That he has realised.

Dream had wanted to tell them he is going to take a moment for himself but then second guessed himself. How much would Nightmare tell them? Would he tell them that their happiness burns him? Would he be honest? Would he even tell them? Or would he just stand up and leave? Were those four expecting him to give them orders? To tell them what to do? Or would a simple 'go do your work' do?

Drema had never realised that positivity burned his brother this badly.

Did... did that mean that being around Dream burned him as well? That going near him at all in battle was as if he was being burned?

Dream knows his aura can get... a lot. but... He never considered... He never thought...

Only extreme negativity hurt Dream and all positivity energised and powered him...

If low levels of positivity already hurt his brother... would only extreme levels of negativity energise him? Would only extreme levels feed him?

Was... was Nightmare attacking AUs not as much an attack on the multiverse but more of a way to feed himself? To keep himself alive?

Dream just... didn't know.

"Boss! boss! what do you think? Awesome right!"

Dream eneds a moment to realise Killer is talking to him. Dream looks over and freezes at the knife Killer is tapping between his phalanges with a concerning speed.

Dream sits there frozen before panic overtakes his soul "What do you think you are doing?! Stop that right now before you hurt yourself!" only to realise that he spoke form panic and worry. Oh no he totally messed up! Dream wasn't thinking and-

Killer pouts but lays the knife down. Horror snorts "Told you boss would be unimpressed and mad at you for practising that."

Killer mutters something about it being cool and Nightmare just being a worrywart.

Dream blinks. Excuse but Nightmare is a what now?

Cross looks at him "What is the schedule for today boss?"

Killer snorts and copies the sentence at a softer volume but in a sillier voice.

Dream can't imagine that would be allowed but before he can even think of a fitting reaction or answer one of Nightmare's tentacles moves over to Killer's skull and gives him a soft tap.

Dream feels mortified. What do you mean those tendrils just... do that?! Dream hadn't even thought or considered that! Wait... Was... Was the corruption still negativity and so technically Nightmare... Was it like a muscle memory and so instinct for his body to do that? That implies that Nightmare has done that a lot.

Killer pouts more and crosses his arms befroe he mumbles "Fine fine. I get it. I get it. Sorry Crossy."

Crossy beams and the happiness stings Dream as Cross answers "Apology accepted!" then Cross looks at him with bright sockets "But what will we do today boss?"

Dream glances around the room as he tries to think of something that would fit. He has no idea what Nightmare does when he isn't out fighting him. Dream remembers the books in Ngihtmare's bedroom but Dream doesn't want to lock himself in there. He will go insane and just not know what to do. He needs an excuse to search around the castle. Something that will fit with their vision of Nightmare.

"I... need to... research a few things for our next... raid." Dream tries to desperately remember what Nightmare sounded like and which words he used. Dream thinks his lucky stars that Nightmare's body still sounds like Nightmare.

Cross nods "okay! Need our help with anything?"

Dream slowly shakes his skull as he tries to follow their emotions to see if he is managing to sell this. "No. I should have what I need." Okay, good so far, now how to say he will get them if he needs help. euh... "If I have need... of you. I know where to find you." That should work... right?

Killer nods as he is already out of the room and gone with a shout "Going to the cats!"

What does he mean CATS?!

Cross nods "Okay! in your office?"

office? office! An office will no doubt have information that will hopefully help Dream. Dream nods as anwer and Cross seems to accept it before he goes around grabbing the plates.

Horror asks him if he wants lunch together or brought up and Dream can feel the stress rise. damnit why are these four so focussed on Nightmare? They turn to him for everything! It makes Dream miss Blue. Blue knows what to do when and helps him more than anything.

Dream ends up saying together. Seeing as they straight up called and pulled him over for breakfast that is probably the go to. Horror seems pleased by this and nods as he starts cleaning the food in a careful manner.

Dust has just been staring at him with a frown on his face.

Dream stares back and feels the need to look away but Nightmare wouldn't look away. Dream waits and waits.

Dust huffs before leaving wihtout much of a word. Dream will take that as a win.

Dream leaves the kitchen and sees Dust disappear into another room, Dream can hear the sounds of a tv coming from there and will assume Killer is in there.

Okay... Now...

Where the hell is everything? He has no idea what the layout is of this place and it was pure luck he even found the staircase that morning to begin with.

He makes his way back to the staircase and follows it up. He makes sure he isn't watched or followed before starting to silently open doors to check what is behind each one.

Why did his brother have to be dramatic and get a castle?!

--------------

Nightmare hates this.

His cheeks are starting to hurt from the constant smiling. It is emotionally and mentally exhausting to be happy all the time. No one leaves him alone and everyone seems to have something they very pressingly need Dream's help for.

Which. Meant you. Are not important things!!

Dream needs a better work/home balance and learn to say no.

Nightmare can't even just return to the house that is, probably, Dream's and just hide for a moment because Blue has been by his side the whole time.

Nightmare will admit he is starting to get why Dream likes Blue so much adn seems so protective of him. Blue is a beacon of positive energy and motivation. Blue also seems happy to help Dream with anything and everything.

Honestly at this point Blue is the only reason why Ngihtmare hasn't started losing his mind at Dream just yet.

Everyone around him. the whole time. noise or people and their emotions. the pressure of everyone looking at him and trying to get his help. The amount of people trying to just stand next to him and soak up some of that positive aura is disgusting.

Nightmare has half the mind to kidnape his twin just to make sure that he knows he can actually say 'No' and tell people to piss off because it is starting to get concerning.

Nightmare hasn't had the impulse to throw this many people through windows in a while.

One more person from somekind of universe runs up to him "Dream Dream! I need your help!"

Nightmare has to take a very deep breath as he tries to control his temper. easy and calm. easy and calm. He manages to pull the smile back full force and turns to them "But of course! Happy to help. What do you need help with?"

The person smiles "Well! I wanted to do my grocerries but I ended up not going because I was watching this movie and it was jsut so good! Anyway. Would you mind doing my grocerries for me?"

Deep breaths Nightmare. Deep breaths.

The person continues on "The next part just started and I also really want to see that but by the time that one finishes the store will be closed!"

Deep. Breaths.

They continue the smile "And obviously I will pay you back later but-"

"No."

they blink. Nightmare stares back.

They frown "Waht? Why not?"

Nightmare honestly tries to keep it in but why would he? This is an idiot and they deserve to know "Because this is a result of your own neglect of your responsibilities and I don't see why it would then be up to me to fix this. Especially as you yourself still have the chance to do it yourself. But instead you are trying to use me and get an easy out. Not only that but you are also asking me to pay for this?"

The slowly cross their arms "You enver minded before..."

Anger. Rage. Nightmare manages to just stare "Well I mind now. Do it yourself. If you are adult enough to live on your own wihtout supervision you should be able to take care of yourself." Nightmare turns and walks away.

The person is enraged at him and Nightmare feels very smug about it. The person shouts after him "You are being a real asshole there Dream! And very selfish!"

Ngihtmare just keeps walking. don't commit murder in Dream's body. that is a very sure way to get others to notice you are not him.

Blue still walks with him and Nightmare glares "What?"

Blue blinks and tilts his skull "I am just happy you are finally starting to take my advice to not help everyone with everything. You gotta limit yourself or get burned out." Blue stops him and stares at him worried "Are you finally ready to tell me what is wrong Dream? I am worried about you..."

Nightmare considers what to say before sighing "I need a break." weak. Nightmare just, can't handle this. The constant demands and people asking him to do things. It is different with his boys. the real happiness they feel for him may sting slightly but it is real. The happiness of these people. It just isn't truly on that same level. There is no actual affection or care or even understanding behind it. It is about possession and demand and feeling like they earned it.

While they earned nothing.

How does Dream deal with them?

Blue nods "Yeah. Lets go to my place. People are less likely to bother you there. and If anyone asks I will just tell them you are sick."

Nightmare stares at Blue "I don't get sick. I can't get sick."

Blue snorts "Dream. The only three people in the whole multiverse that know that are, you, your twin, and me. If anyone asks we tell them you are sick." and he grins.

Ngihtmare stares at Blue for a moment "You are the only being in the multiverse with a functioning brain."

Blue snorts and laughs "Nightmare will be happy to hear you say that Dream." and he grins widely.

Nightmare snorts himself, a little inside joke just for him, "I know what I said."

They manage to find Core for a ride. Ngihtmare is relieved by that as he hasn't quite figured out how Dream makes portals just yet. Luckily Blue had decided for him that they would catch a ride instead of trying one themselves.

-----------

Dream reads through another report on the changes and shifts in the balance between positivity and negativity. another one that Dream had thought had been an attack agaisnt the multiverse but instead this report spoke about the high positivity levels making the universe unstable and them having to shift it.

The report speaks of a mild success and mentions a message to Error that this universe could be skipped for destruction for a while as they had managed to make it stable enough to last it a bit longer.

So many reports. So many universe which had been unbalanced.

Compared to all the reports Drema had read until now only about 10% spoke about getting higher negativity levels for Nightmare or getting supplies in a raid.

Everything else? All about universes that needed rebalancing and a shift in the right direction to keep them stable.

Dream leans back in the chair and yelps as the tendrils ache. He looks up adn groans as he sees the tentacles once again completely braided together. He doesn't want to have to try to undo it again and-

"Sup Boss!"

Oh are you kidding him?!

Dream had thought the people in the Omega timeline could be pushy or clingy. But it is nothing on these four. They just. Keep showing up!

It is like they are taking shifts! Dream manages to get one out and a new one will show up within 15 minutes.

Dream sighs and looks up "Waht do you want this time you. you..." you... you... Dream doesn't want to be mean. But Ngihtmare probably insults them... right? "Worms."

Cross's whole face turns sad and worried "Worms?" Oh Dream feels so bad about this. Oh no he looks so sad and hurt and why did Dream say that?

Killer however grins widely "worms! new nickname lets go!" he grins widely

Horror just looks at him with a raised brow "You okay boss?"

Dream feels himself get anxious as he tries to channel some stern face but he is unsure how well he is managing "what is it?"

Cross just keeps looking down at the floor with a sad expression as he mutters the word 'worms' to himself.

Horror looks back "Oh Killer pushed Dust down the stairs."

Drema blinks before looking at Killer "You did what?!"

Killer grins widely as he throws out his arms "I would never!"

A second later a very angry Dust shows up "He so did! The asshole pushed me!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not times infinity! Hah! I win!"

Dust glares and tries to tackle Killer but Dream, or lets be real Nightmare's tentacles, stop him and catch Dust mid air.

Dream takes a few breaths but he gives up "No pushing each other down the stairs! I can't even believe i need to say this!"

Horror speaks up "Again."

Dream feels himself stand up straighter "Again?!" luckily all of them seem to not hear the question in his outraged cry as Killer nods with a pout and Dust just huffs.

It is slightly concerning how unbother Dust looks by being up in onf of those tentacles.

Dream rubs his face as he tries to keep his spinning thoughts calm "I am going to be quick about it. I want all four of you to behave for ten minutes so I can look through my reports and figure out where to go to next!"

His brother had so many reports. If Dream could find some positive universe and spread a tiny bit of negativity then Nightmare, in Dream's own body, would feel that and come to Dream and then Dream can try to get them to switch back.

Silence answers him and he looks up to see all four of the gang look at him and nod. Dream waits for a moment before nodding himself "Good!" He has to focus on the tentacle and imagines it putting Dust down before it actually listens. The tendril seems unwilling to let Dust go.

Dream takes a deep sigh and sits back at Nightmare's desk as he starts reading through reports. He looks back up only to see all four of the gang relaxing around him and Nightmare's desk.

Dream rubs his face. considers going against it before just going wiht the flow. Fine! if they want to watch him read reports so be it! Dream turns back to the many reports as he tries to figure out which place would be best. By the stars Nightmare has so much information and he straight up has a whole catagory on different universes and what key differences are and how to spot these when first entering an universe.

There is just so much knowledge and understanding about all of these universe. Nightmare even took time ot learn which universes are most likely to interact. to cross over. or to even be able to hold a stable connection to serve as trading route.

Dream looks up and spots that those stupid tentacles had moves again! Each of them holds one of the four gang members and Dream is trying to think on how to put them back down.

Then he sees all four of them... asleep. peacefully asleep as they lay either rolled up in the tentacle or seem to hug them in their sleep.

Dream stares for a moment and wonders just how often this happens for that to be the natural reaction before he turns back to the reports. the answer has to be in these.

----------

Nightmare feels the spike of negativity as soon as it happens. It si fear from somewhere in the multiverse and he sits up straight.

Blue looks over worried "Dream?"

Nightmare knows it within a second with absolute certainty "My brother." it is dream. Dream has entered an universe and is... causing fear?

Maybe a trap. Or... a beacon.

Blue frowns at him "Are you sure you are ready for this Dream? I don't think you are... fully rested yet."

Nightmare is already up and nods "I am sure." Now the hard part. He focusses on the magic so much like his own but different. the only thing that is avaiable to him is Dream's magic and it will have to do. He focusses on the positivity and wills it to open a connection to where he feels the spike of negativity.

A portal opens before them.

Blue nods as he grabs his hammer "Let's go."

They step through together and Nightmare looks around. He is quick to spot himself.

Nightmare glares as he crouches low before he is off like a bullet right at his own body. The shock on his own face is satisfying.

More satisfying is tackling himself as he and Dream tumble down the sloop into the overgrowth behind it.

Dream yelps and tries to retaliate but Nightmare knows his own body and his own limits. Nightmare is quick to get Dream in a headlock and hisses "Give me back my body."

Dream groans "I am trying! Let go so we can figure this out before they find us!"

Nightmare frowns and waits for just a moment to see if they are followed. He feels some slight confusion and worry from everyone else but there seems to be a bit of a standoff.

Nightmare sighs and lets go of Dream "Quickly then."

Dream huffs as he gets up only to stagger as Ngihtmare sees his tendrils flex. Nightmare snorts "Haven't figured out how to keep them still yet?"

Dream glares at Ngihtmare wiht his own face "Shut up. Just tell me you have na idea how to switch us back."

Nightmare sighs "Obviously we tried to recreate what happened in our last fight." Nightmare focusses and calls forth his, Dream's? this is getting confusing, aura.

Dream hisses slightly, no doubt feeling the burn, before nodding and quickly doing the same.

Both hold out a hand and inch their aura's around each's other's aura and towards the other twin.

Nightmare feels his own magic reach him and it feels like a blast of cool air on a summer day. He lets himself follow it and-

His body burns by the positivity right before him and he jumps back. His tendrils helping Ngihtmare move back and away from Dream.

Dream lets out a loud sigh of relieve as he lets himself sink to his knees "Oh that feels so much better..."

Nightmare nods as he flexes a tendril "I agree."

A moment of silence and peace between the two as neither makes the move to attack first.

Dream speaks up first "I... I never realised how... how much just tiny bits of positivity hurt..."

Nightmare shurgs "You get used to it. and sometimes it is better to feel the sting than the alternative."

Dream nods as he shoots Nightmare a smile.

Nightmare frowns "You can say no."

Dream blinks "Excuse me?"

Nightmare sighs "You should say no sometimes. It is unhealthy to keep giving everything you have to everyone. especially if they don't actually need help or are even thankful or grateful for it." Nightmare shoots his brother an unimpressed look "Learn to manage your work/home life."

Dream blinks before laughing and shooting him a grin "You sound like Blue."

Nightmare nods "You should listen to him more then."

Another moment of peace before both their groups get to them. Neither feel much for fighting and both call for a retreat very quickly.

Both have a lot to think about anyways.

---------

"Wait?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU AND YOUR TWIN HAD BEEN SWITCHED?! THAT EXPLAINS SO MUCH!"

[pugsofwriting]

Demon HRT

Been reading some of the art people are posting about animal HRT and it inspired this, particularly from @ayviedoesthings @welldrawnfish @kaylasartwork and @nyxisart. Apologies if that @'s you or something, we don't use Tumblr a ton.

This is completely unedited cause if I don't post it now, I don't think I ever will. We wrote the first part with one headmate fronting, the middle part with a second headmate, and the final part with a third headmate.

I quite like how it turned out though. Hope people enjoy it.

The door to the exam rooms opened and a nurse stepped out, checking her clipboard.

“Berith?” she called.

Berith’s pulse picks up and she gets that anxious feeling in her chest, like someone’s squeezing her heart. She stands up and offers what she hopes is a friendly smile to the nurse.

“Hi there, how’s everything going today?” The nurse asks.

“Oh not bad. Just excited for this appointment.” She grins again at her best facsimile of excitement.

“Wonderful! Let’s get your vitals before you head on back.”

Berith sits down in the plastic chair that the nurse (Martha) gestures to, and shifts a few times trying to find a comfortable spot to sit.

Martha shakes her head while she works. “I keep telling them to get better chairs back here but no one listens,” she says half to herself.

Berith rolls back the sleeves of her jean shirt and presents an arm to Martha, who velcros the blood pressure cuff on and clips a pulse reader on her finger. She pushes a button on her machine and the cuff tightens.

Berith tries not to move as the pressure increases. She’s never liked blood pressure cuffs. They squeeze too tightly.

The cuff deflates and Martha checks Berith’s vitals with a small frown.

“Heart rate’s a little high. Any health conditions or medications we should know about?” Martha asks.

“No, I’m just a little nervous,” says Berith with a nervous laugh.

“I see,” says Martha.

She gestures for Berith to get up and points down the long hallway.

“Exam room 8. Walk down this hallway and take a left. Should be the first door on the right.”

She gives Berith a wink before heading towards the entrance to call in the next patient.

Berith pauses for a moment and looks down the hallway before walking steadily down and to the left. She finds exam room 8, coldly lit, windowless, and beige. She sits down on the bed, crinkling the paper lining and waits, kicking her feet over the edge and drumming her fingers against the crisp, white paper.

She looks around the room, though there’s not much to look at. The usual medical posters, vein, muscle, and skeletal anatomy, infographics on flu prevention, diagrams of respiratory systems and inner ears and sinuses. And one newer looking poster on the door, an advertisement for Theriozine.

Berith stares at the poster and swallows nervously.

After waiting a life-age of the earth (10 minutes), there’s a small knock on the door and the handle turns. The door creaks open, revealing a young woman in a lab coat.

“Berith?” she asks.

“That’s me!” says Berith with another excited smile. Or at least she hopes that’s how it looks.

“Nice name,” says the doctor.

“Thanks, I chose it myself.”

The doctor looks Berith up and down quickly. “Right. I’m Dr. Farren.” She reaches out a hand that Berith shakes.

“So what brings you in today?”

“Well, I’d um. I’d like to start HRT,” Berith says.

“Yes, well…” Dr. Farren flips through your char quickly. “It seems you’re already on HRT.”

“No, I want to start that.” Berith points to the poster on the wall and Dr. Farren turns her head to look. She spends a few longs seconds looking before releasing a sigh.

“Right. Theriozine.” She takes off her glasses, pulls a cloth out of her pocket, and begins idly cleaning them.

“To be honest, you’re the first person who’s ever asked. I’ve never had managed Theriozine for a patient before, though I’m aware of the basics. I’ll be sure to read up on it tonight.”

 “So, what do you want to be.” She puts the cloth away and moves checks the glasses against the light before putting them back on.

Berith takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “A demon.”

Dr. Farren stops with her glasses midway on her nose and lowers them to look at Berith.

“A demon? A demon with horns? Like, a biblical demon?”

“Yes.”

Dr. Farren pushes her glasses up her nose and turns to look at the poster again, lost in thought.

“…Dr. Farren?” Berith asks.

Dr. Farren starts and turns around, regarding Berith again with renewed interest.

“Sorry, I was considering the medication. I believe there’s a variant that will achieve the desired effect, but this is beyond my understanding. I don’t feel comfortable prescribing something about which I know little. I’m sorry,” she says, stretching out a hand.

Berith deflates. She takes the hand in front of her, which squeezes a little encouragement back in.

“I understand,” Berith says, “However, I know quite a bit about the demonic variant of Theriozine. I can tell you my ideal dose. I can tell you my target hormone levels. I can tell you the effects from 1 week to 3 years. I know exactly what I want and this is what I need to do it. Please, please prescribe the medication. You can research it all you want after and you’ll see that I’m right. Please, I just need to start.”

Berith notices a tear run down her cheek and takes her hand back from Dr. Farren to wipe it away. She sniffles.

“I’m sorry, I just. I’ve been looking forward to this appointment for almost a year. It’s really hard to find a clinic that’s taking new patients right now and I don’t want to wait another year just to start HRT. Please just trust me on this.”

Dr. Farren regards Berith again and taps a pen against the clipboard. She purses her lips and scrunches her brows.

“Okay. But-“

Berith jumps up to her feet and hugs the doctor abruptly . “Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!”

“But!” Dr Farren says, louder this time. She detaches Berith from around her.

“But, I will see you back here in two weeks for a check up. In that time, I’ll be researching Theriozine for demons and if you’re wrong about dosing, I will adjust your dose as needed.”

Berith nods with pure excitement. “I can do that, I’ll make the time”

“And,” Dr Farren continues, “I would like you to begin a journal to track your transition. Take special note of new cravings or moods, of new sensations, and of any possible complications.”

Dr Farren puts a hand on Berith’s shoulder and gently pushes her to a seating position on the bed. She looks seriously at Berith.

“I’m putting a lot of trust in you here. And with that said, I want you to put some trust in me. That being said, please report any concerning symptoms to me immediately. It seems like you’ve wanted to start HRT for a long time, and I’m sure you don’t want anything to get in the way of your goals. So trust me, and let me know if you experience anything distressing. I promise you I will do my utmost to keep you on HRT. So please, trust me. Deal?”

Dr Farren sticks out her hand to Berith. Berith stares at it for a second, then reaches out and shakes it.

“Deal.”

Berith’s Demon Diary – Day 1

Holy shit I fucking did it. I thought for sure she wouldn’t give me the pills but she did! Dr. Farren seems like a nice lady. Doc, if you’re reading this, thanks.

Anyway, I knew from pictures online, but demonic Theriozine looks downright… demonic. A picture can’t really do service to the glistening obsidian black of the pills. It feels like they should be oozing or something. They’re not, they’re pretty dry just… maybe a little creepy.

BLEGH holy fuck that tastes like shit. If hell has a flavor, I bet it’s this, Jesus. Or should I say Lucifer? Eh, who cares. This shit tastes nasty but hey, as long as it does the job right?

To Berith of the future, it all starts day. I’m sure we’ll remember this day forever.

Day 5

Ugh, I thought the hot flashes on E were bad but this? This is a whole ‘nother level. I feel like I’m burning up. Maybe I am! I’m turning in a demon after all. Demoness? Demon? Hmm, I like both. We’ll workshop that.

Anyway, aside from that, I’ve been feeling kind itchy too. I did email Dr Farren about the new symptoms and she asked me to take my temperature. Currently, I’m hovering around 101F, which is pretty typical from what I’ve read of demon HRT. Dr Farren sounded concerned, but I told her that I trust her, so please trust me. That seems to have settled her down. I’m sure this is going to kickstart her research if it hasn’t already.

I’ll be back whenever the next major development happens. This is Berith signing off.

P.S. to future Berith. You’re gay.

Day 14

Fucking hell, I’m itchy, I’m hot, and I’m kinda pissed off. I feel like I’m back on the island in the middle of August. Sweat dripping down my back, I’m panting like a dog (kinda hot though tbh. Not like that I mean like hot hot. Like, sexy hot. Fuck ignore me), and I’m using every fucking OUNCE of willpower not to scratch.

All the forums say not to scratch during this period or you’ll make it worse, but fuck is that hard. My… everything itches. Between the itchiness. I can barely sleep for all the sweat. I smell like shit and I have to wash my sheets nightly and air out my mattress cause it gets too wet. And that’s if I even sleep at all.

I’m finding it more difficult to sleep these days. I assume it’s from all the sweating, I’ve never had luck sleeping when I’m too hot.

Went in for my checkup today. Dr. Farrne seems more confident in her knowledge of demonic Theriozine. Seems she’s been doing her research after all.

Day 24

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck hurts so much. can barely write. pretty sure horns are coming in. no one told me would hurt so fucking much. worst migraine of my life. fuck I wanna die fuck me

emailed dr farren two words: pain, horns. can’t look at screen for too long, makes things worse.

supposed to work today,  texted Kevin I’m sick

hope it’s over soon

Day 25

Pain

Day 26

Pain

Day 27

Pain

Day 28

Pain

Day 29

Less pain

Day 30

Pain      

Day 31

Less pain, maybe better soon

Day 32

It’s Wednesday apparently. Today’s the first day I’m, idk, lucid? I have no memory of the past… 8 days? Jesus fucking christ it’s been 8 days.

Fuck, Kevin has been blowing up my phone all week. I turned it off because I couldn’t stand the fucking noise.

Shit, Dr. Farren has been calling too. She’s concerned about horn development. Apparently the last thing I sent her was “pain, horns.”

Oh fuck, Horns!!!!!!

Okay they’re just nubs, but they’re there! Yes!!!!!!! Fuck I’m excited, this is a huge fucking milestone, I guess. I should email Dr Farren with an update and I guess let her know I’m alive or something.

Still itchy and sweaty as shit, but at least the pain is done. Fuck I smell like shit, I need a shower.

P.S. I looked in the mirror after the shower and my fucking pupils are changing! It was kind of jarring looking into my own eyes and seeing them being to elongate. I swear I see flecks of black starting to invade my sclera, but it might just be my imagination. Horn nubs are kind awkward for now. Goddammit, what about I gonna do about hats!?!?!?!

That’s a problem for future Berith. Future Berith, take it from here.

Day 49 (should I just use months now? Maybe weeks? I’ll figure it out)

Well, my tail is coming in. And fucking hell (hehe) does it hurt. Not nearly as bad as the horns though. The horns felt like someone was drilling a hole in my skull. Which I guess might not be that far from the truth, huh. Still fucking hurts though, I can’t sit down and I can only sleep on my stomach, which is pretty fucking shitty.

Still sweating a bunch and I’ve gotten used to the itchiness to an extent. I can see a few scales pop up around my hands, and my sclera are definitely turning black now. I’m in a weird kinda half-way point between white and black eyes and it’s offputting to be honest.

Uhh, not much else going on. Body temperature still seems to be getting hotter, which is cool. Well, it’s hot. Like hot hot. Fuck, I need to stop doing this.

Month 6

It’s been a while since last update, I know. Life just got… busy. Work started picking up and next thing I knew, I was 6 months on HRT and hadn’t even had the time or the spoons to make a journal entry in 4 months.

Right, the update. So the horns are coming in nicely. They’re around 4-5 inches tall at the moment and don’t seem to be curling, which is good. The sweating has abated, that’s for sure. That being said, I’m really fucking hot. Like, hot hot. Temperature hot. I tried to take my temperature today and the thermometer broke. I bought one of those nice temperature probes for meat and stuff and used that instead. Apparently, I’m hovering around 132F. That’s just… fuck.

As for the scales, they’re starting to spread finally. Still itchy as all hell (get it? Cause I’m a demon now. Future Berith, I will continue making this joke. I’m not sorry). Seems the scales are mostly around my appendages and a little around my face. My hands are fairly well-scaled.

Oh, my hands! My fignernails are sharping and my the scales are turning my hands the same oozing black as the pills, which is kinda weird but alright.

Tail is starting to come in nicely too, though it still hurts. I think it has a few more weeks of growth left based on the current length, we’ll see.

I’ve been keeping in touch with Dr. Farren and she seems fine with the progress. Just had the second follow up and things are going well. My hormone levels “look perfect” according to the good doctor. They’re right about where I expected them to be so take THAT American medical system. I know what the fuck I’m talking about.

Oh right, my feet. They’ve grown, interestingly enough, and none of my shoes fit me. In fact, I don’t shoes would fit me at all. The bottoms are pretty scaly and hard, so I’m not worried about getting a cut or something. But they’re kinda slippery. Makes walking on certain surfaces difficult, so I’ve taken to wearing the fucking psych ward grippy socks when I can. They don’t exactly last long, but it’s all I’ve got for now.

Most notably tho, my feat have… changed. I believe I am now what they call “digitigrade.” My ankle has kinda moved upwards, kind of like some of the canids that are on Theriozine. I haven’t found anyone reference this before, so I’m not really sure what to make of it.

I’ve been researching and I found someone who makes special shoes for those taking Theriozine, so I think I’ll reach out once the shape and size has stabilized.

That’s it for month 6. Good progress so far, can’t wait to see what’s ahead.

This is Berith of the past, signing off.

Month 7

Tail is still growing, not sure when it’s gonna stop anymore. It’s a LOT longer than I read it would be. Might have something to do with genetics… however those play into my demonification.

Month 8

I think my tail finally stopped growing? It hasn’t gotten any longer in a couple weeks so here’s hoping. I’m already finding myself wrapping it around my torso just to keep it out of the way, especially on the train.

Ah, right. The public. The people. I get a good number of strange looks from the general populace, but I’m starting to see more and more otherkin walking around, living their lives. It makes me feel… at home, somehow. It’s like when I would see other queer people when I was human. There’s an intangible sense of belonging. A sense that, even if they don’t know everything I’ve been through, they know enough.

That being said, I do still get the occasional protesting throwing holy water in my face. Lots of the more evangelical Christians are very unhappy with Theriozine and protests have been going on for a good while. I pass by one on the way to work and sometimes I go “RAH” just to spook them a little bit. One of them actually fainted, which I do feel a bit bad about… well, not that bad.

My arms appendages are fully scaled now, and my feet I think are almost done growing. The black scale extends up to my mid-forearm and slowly fades to scale the color of my original flesh. The only areas without scales are my stomach and mid-back. I expect those will grow in pretty soon and I can finally be done with this damnable (get it?) itching.

My temperature seems to have settled around 140F, which is extremely hot. Despite my scales, I still appear to be warm-blooded? No idea how that works, I’m not a fucking doctor.

Oh right, Dr Farren. Sent her an update a few days ago and she thinks things are going every well. No need for further checkups until my next scheduled one at the one year mark. Soon enough, it will have been a whole fucking year. I have no regrets. This is perhaps one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

See you next time, future Berith.

Month 10

Scales are all in! Feet finally stopped growing! Sclera are fully black and my irises have become a deeper shade of green for whatever reason. My pupils are now slits and the black scales encroach out of my hairline just a bit, for that demonic look. Maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s Theriozine.

Okay that one was pretty funny right? Right? Yeesh, tough crowd.

I did finally talk to that cobbler that makes the custom shoes. Maple is it’s name. It and I had a nice conversation and I sent it a plethora of feet pics (for free, I know), as well as some measurements. Lots of measurements. I had Juniper take them for me, cause it’s kind hard to get the right angle.

The shoes will run me quite a bit, but it’s definitely worth it. I’m starting with a softer, but gripper rubber sole and I may order another pair in Danite for more durability. That’ll come later though.

Oh the design of the shoes is fascinating. They’re like… shorter shoes. My feet…. I kinda wanna call them paws…. Fuck it, yeah. My paws go into the leather upper and rest on the soles. My paws are covered against the elements, and I use straps to fasten them to my ankles. They look incredibly comfortable and I can’t wait to get my hands on them.

All in all, things are going pretty great.

Year 1

ONE FUCKING YEAR LETS GOOOOOOOOO.

God, I can’t believe it’s been a full year. I still shudder when I think about my horns coming in…

Speaking of which, I believe they’re nearing the end of development. My guess is that I need another year to completely finish, but they’re approaching their suspected height and look rather intimidating. They are the same glistening obsidian as my darkest scales and they just… feel right.

Everything feels right. It’s like when I started seeing breast growth and fat redistribution with E, but infinitely amplified. I feel at home in my body, truly at home.

I did see Dr Farren yesterday and showed her the development of my paws. She didn’t seem concerned and she mentioned something I’d seen maybe twice in my research: Theriozine, it seems, responds in some way to desire. I’d always assumed that each dose was tailored to the otherkin receiving it, but it seems that’s not the case.

It’s true that there are different varieties of Theriozine to achieve different effects, but things like horn shape and length, scale color, and even the effects I saw with my paws are variable to the user.

It makes sense in hindsight, but I have no fucking idea how they do that. Who fucking cares tbh, it’s giving me and so many others the chance to become who they truly are.

I’ll probably check in again in a while. My changes have mostly stabilized and the rest of what I’ll see will be relatively small and less noticeable in the short-term.

To future Berith. Look how far we’ve come, and look how far we can go.

Year 2

I was thinking I might do an update around 1.5 years but things turned out like this.

My horns are fully developed. They seemed to stop a few months back and now I’m certain that they’re done.

In fact, everything seems to be done. I’m still seeing small changes in my scales (I think the scales themselves are growing larger?) as well as some shifts in coloring, but all the major stuff is out of the way.

Oh, my teeth are kinda pointy now. It took me until I stabbed myself in the lip to actually notice them.

The biggest change that I see (quite literally) is in my vision. I see things differently. I think, my vision has expanded beyond what is typically visible light, and I believe I’ve dropped down into infrared light as well. I can tell the temperature of things by how they look now. It’s odd, and makes everything look kinda of red-tinted. Fitting for a demon, don’t you think.

I think my hearing might’ve also gotten sharper, but that’s about it. Nothing as drastic for my other sense as seeing infrared.

I saw Dr. Farren recently and per her studies, the change in vision is a bit of a milestone. She expects I’ll need to continue HRT for another year or so before I can stop it.

I’m looking forward to the next year.

Year 3

Just like Dr. Farren said, I am officially off of Theriozine! My demonic traits are now stable enough that my body will just maintain them like normal. Because they are normal. Holy shit, they’re normal. This my normal body. This is who I am now, what I am. Fuck, I think I might cry. This is… everything I’ve ever wanted. Everything.

I think this is where the journal ends. My body may continue shifting with time, but not so much as in the first 3 years.

Thank you Dr. Farren for trusting me all those years ago. I believe she’s become one of the more well-known endocrinologists who specializes in otherkin HRT and she seems to enjoy it.

I know no one will likely ever read this journal, but for all my demons out there, for all my otherkin and alterhumans and nonhumans: Take the step. Start Theriozine. I promise you, you will not regret. Just trust yourself to do what’s right for you.

This is past Berith, signing off for the last time.

[writingsofwerewolves]

Game game game game game --

Ask and ye shall receive.

Some Content Warnings for brief mentions of self harm (not detailed, just mentioned in passing), a bit of gore, discussions of fictional rape (there's no noncon in this, just discussions of fiction that contains it), discussions of sexism and racism,

Also on a more personal level: This contains a self insert. Very blatantly. I wrote this in late 2020 and used it to process a lot of what I was thinking and feeling at the time. Yes, there are some sexy fun times within, but there's also just a lot of talking about various things.

I've changed a lot since writing this. A lot has changed about the more technical details of the werewolves and vampires I write. But I wanted to post this unedited.

If you want to jump to the sexy fun times, you can do a word search for Truth or Dare and that should take you right to the fun stuff.

Oh also, this was like... one of the very first sex scenes I ever wrote so yeah, it's rough and I kinda hate it, but I love the goofiness of the games before the sex. 😂

Hopefully some enjoyment can be found here!

(I have to post it in several parts because it's too long for tumblr)

~

I was very groggy as consciousness slowly seeped into me. I knew I was on a bed, but it was instantly clear it wasn’t mine. Opening my eyes, I saw I was on what seemed to be a queen sized bed, but I wasn’t intimately familiar with bed sizes so it could have been a full or even a king for all I knew. It was as I opened my eyes I realized something much more immediately concerning. I was naked as I laid atop the sheets.

Startled into action, I pulled at the blankets to cover myself, but they were tightly tucked in and didn’t budge. Glancing around, it seemed I was completely alone, so moved to throw my feet over the side of the bed so I could get a better grip on the blankets. It was then that I realized I wasn’t alone. On the floor at the foot of the bed were two men. Naked, just as I was, and seemingly… dead.

I stumbled backwards, hitting the nightstand beside the bed, staring wide eyed at the two men’s peaceful expressions. Their foreheads had gaping bullet wounds, oozing red blood. There was no doubt they were dead. No one could survive such an injury. But still, I stayed frozen in place, holding my breath, waiting to see if they would move.

My eyes didn’t leave the two bodies for what felt like thirty minutes or more, but I had no way of knowing. However, that length of time reassured me that the dead men held no threat. So I finally looked around and appraised my situation. Across the room from the bed, on the other side of the bodies, was a small kitchen. It had a refrigerator and a stove against the wall and then there was a bar in front of it, where I could see a sink’s faucet sticking up, and two stools pulled up to the bar. On the same wall as the fridge and stove was a curtained doorway. As I scanned the walls, I realized that was the only opening anywhere. There were no windows or doors.

Feeling exposed, though as far as I knew I was alone, I resumed my task of freeing sheets to cover myself. I was able to gather up a blanket and wrap it around my body so I felt a little more shielded. I worried about what was behind the curtained doorway, but the dead bodies were between me and it and I wasn’t quite ready to deal with that. So instead, I searched the drawers of the nightstand beside me.

The nightstand actually had a few pieces of clothing. I got excited for a moment but then realized it was just socks and underwear. However, that was more than I had so I pulled some on. To my surprise, they fit perfectly. When I freed the blanket from the bed, I’d noticed there were drawers beneath the bed and so I pulled one out. It had men’s button up shirts and pants. I pulled out one of the large shirts and put it on. It was so big that it covered me quite thoroughly.

The other side of the bed also had a nightstand, so I climbed atop the bed and crawled across to get to it. I still had no intention to move in the direction of the bodies. The other nightstand had socks and underwear far too big for me. But that side of the bed had drawers too and inside were tank tops and shorts that were my size. I removed the men’s shirt and put those on before putting the shirt back on too. It made me feel more protected than the flimsy white tank top.

So I was dressed, more or less. But that didn’t help me feel safe from the bodies or whatever might be in that curtained room.

I appraised the dead bodies, though it was a struggle to look at them. One was a very large man with medium length black hair and a full beard. The other was much smaller and leaner, his body nearly hairless. They both still head bullet holes in their heads, but my eyes couldn’t look at those for too long.

Reassuring myself they were both long dead, I began to slowly sneak around them, towards the kitchen, my eyes not leaving the pair. Once I was on their other side, I moved to the curtain and with a shaky hand, pulled it back. Inside was a small room with a toilet on one wall and a sink and showerhead on the other. No doors or windows.

“Fuck,” I muttered and moved to the kitchen.

There were cabinets so I searched them. They contained pots, pans, and some non-refrigerated foods. One, closest to the bathroom, had toilet paper, toothbrushes, toothpaste, and menstrual products. The drawers held eating and cooking utensils. My eyes fell on a particularly scary looking knife. I gripped it’s handle and held it to me.

I didn’t know how I got there and I didn’t know how I would leave, but I would protect myself if needed.

Just then, I heard a groaning and I jumped out of my skin. I was in between the fridge and the bar, so I could just see the pair of bodies over the counter. Except, they weren’t dead bodies anymore. They were moving.

The smaller one gasped for air and sat up, clutching his chest. The larger one was just twitching a little, the hole in his head closing even as I watched. I held the knife, ready for when either of them noticed me. I definitely wasn’t going to be killed by zombies or whatever they were.

Even as I thought that, however… I knew. I knew who and what they were. But what if I was wrong?

The smaller one seemed to catch his breath and appraised his situation. His eyes fell on me and widened a little. Then he looked down at his companion and moved to kneel by his head. He murmured soft words in a language I didn’t recognize as the larger man started gasping for breath, his limps flailing around in a panic. Eventually he settled and was helped into a sitting position. The pair exchanged a few words and then they simultaneously looked at me.

“What is your name?” the smaller one asked gently.

“Y-you first,” I ordered shakily, gesturing at him with my knife.

His lips quirked slightly, like I’d amused him.

“Damian,” he said and then gestured at his companion, who was still breathing heavily, “And my husband Vikram.”

My breath caught in my chest. Was it possible? Were they real?

“You were dead,” I whispered.

Damian nodded solemnly, “We got better.”

I frowned at him reproachfully.

“Sorry,” he said, clearly smiling, “We heal. Neither of us are capable of actually dying. A bullet to the head will put us out of commission for a bit, but we revive eventually. What is your name?” he asked again, his voice soft and prompting.

“Indigo,” I choked out.

Damian let out a breath of relief and said, “Indigo. That is a wonderful name.”

“Picked it myself,” I grumbled.

He chuckled appreciatively as he stood, “Good choice.”

At his movement, I pressed myself back against the cabinets, holding my knife out threateningly.

“It’s alright,” he murmured, holding his hands up, “Is it alright if I help Vikram to the bed? He doesn’t heal as quickly as me.”

I nodded, but continued to point the knife in his direction.

“Thank you, Indigo,” he said and then helped Vikram to his feet. Vikram leaned heavily on Damian as they moved to the bed. One there, Vikram laid across it, letting out a breath of relief.

“Th-there’s clothes,” I stuttered, “In the nightstands and under the bed.”

“Thank you again,” Damian smiled at me before investigating the drawers. “Ah, this is good.” He pulled out some clothing, laying it beside Vikram before dressing himself.

Once he was finished, Vikram seemed more recovered and was able to pull on the pieces of clothing Damian had laid out. Though he returned to his lying position on the bed, his eyes closed.

Damian said something to him in that other language, sounding concerned. Vikram responded with a weak chuckle. Damian slapped his husband’s arm playfully before bending over him to kiss him on the lips very briefly.

“Will… will he be alright?” I asked Damian when he faced me.

“Oh, yes,” he assured me, “He just needs rest, if that’s alright.”

“You’re asking for my permission?”

“Sort of. This does seem to be the only bed here… Where is here exactly?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“My apologies. I thought perhaps you knew.”

“No, I was… I guess drugged or something. I thought maybe y’all’d know.”

“Sorry, no,” Damian looked around appraisingly, “No windows…”

“That door’s a bathroom. There’s no way out that I can see,” I told him.

He nodded his understanding, “Strange. How long have you been awake?”

“I don’t know. There’s no clocks and I’m bad at judging time passage. Maybe thirty minutes?”

“We were dead for thirty minutes?” Damian frowned deeply.

“Maybe. I don’t know!”

“That is… an unusually long time. And for us to wake at the exact same moment… May I ask, your clothing…?”

“I was… sans clothing when I woke up too,” I explained, my cheeks feeling very hot.

“This is all very strange.”

“That’s disconcerting coming from someone who apparently regularly recovers from gunshot wounds to the head,” I commented.

Damian laughed and said, “You’re not wrong.”

“You don’t have any idea where we are?” I asked desperately.

“Oh, I have ideas.”

“Care to share with the class?”

“Yes,” he nodded and took a step in my direction.

I again held up the knife. He ceased his movement and raised his hands again.

“Indigo, do you recognize us at all?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Do the names Vikram and Damian mean anything to you?” he asked.

“Why?”

“You can be honest,” he said softly, “It will make this easier. Do you know us?”

I swallowed hard and said, “Depends. Do you know me?”

He smiled, seeming a little relieved, “Yes. I do know you, Indigo.”

“Like what?”

“You’re allergic to wheat and eggs. You’re autistic and you have an anxiety disorder. Social phobia specifically, but also general anxiety.”

“Do you stalk my tumblr or something?” I asked.

He chuckled, “Not recently. Maybe never yours specifically, but other versions of you, yes.”

“Other… versions?”

“Vikram and I can’t die and, as such, we outlived the dimension we were born in. Since then, we’ve traveled between worlds together. Alternate universes. We’ve met several Indigos in the past, all completely biologically identical with only a few environmental differences. For a few, yes, I stalked their tumblr accounts. For others, I tried to avoid their social media as it only made it harder to not find them so I could be with them.”

“’Them’ being… multiples of me?”

“That and ’them’ being the pronoun you generally use. Is that not accurate for you?”

“It… it is…”

“You didn’t exist in the dimension we’re currently living in,” Damian continued. “I always check now. As far as I could tell, your parents didn’t even exist but I still checked all the possible places you could be born. Nothing. Which means someone brought us together purposefully.”

I felt tears build in my eyes and my arm holding the knife fell to my side, “You check? For me?”

He smiled sadly, “I do. Indigo, do you know who I am?”

I nodded, tears falling down my cheeks as the knife slipped from my hand and clattered on the floor.

“May I approach?” Damian asked.

I nodded, unable to talk around the lump in my throat. Damian walked around the bar and moved towards me. Before he reached me, he crouched down and picked up the knife. As he stood, it set it on the bar and then looked down at me, his eyes full of emotion. He tentatively reached towards my face, watching my eyes carefully. When he didn’t see any sign of rejection, he cupped my cheek gently.

His cool skin was a bit of a shock and sent a chill through me. My sharp intake of breath must have concerned him because he quickly pulled his hand away. My eyes widened and I let out a small whine of disappointment.

There was a sound of movement and we both turned to see Vikram sitting up, leaning back against the headboard. His skin had a healthier glow to it and while he still seemed a little tired, he seemed better. He turned his black eyes to me and smiled warmly.

“Hello, Indigo.”

“Hi,” I squeaked nervously, dropping my gaze to the floor.

“Come sit so we can talk?” Damian asked, stepping back so I could escape the very closed in kitchen, “You can keep your weapon if it makes you feel better.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, “Would it help?”

“Only if it makes you feel safe,” he shrugged, “It wouldn’t really do much to us, though.”

I shudder ran through me. If they really were who I thought, even a strong human stood little chance against them. I stood none, even with a knife. I exited the kitchen area empty handed.

“I don’t mean to make you scared of us,” Damian said apologetically, “Just… I want to be honest with you.”

“No, that’s best. No reason to have a false sense of security.”

Vikram gestured for me to sit on the foot of the bed while he remained leaning against the headboard. Damian pulled one of the two stools so he could sit nearby.

“How much do you know of us?” Vikram asked.

“A… a little. Maybe?”

“It’s like a dream, right?” Damian questioned and I nodded, “It’s because you remember some of your past lives.”

“Reincarnations?” I asked.

“Yes. Do you know about that?”

“It was… something I had in my head. I didn’t know it was real.”

“You have led many lives,” Vikram explained, “Some as Indigo, some as other people.”

“Like… Talia?” I questioned.

Damian smiled sadly and nodded, “Like Talia. Your essence lives on when your bodies die, jumping from dimension to dimension. Often it seems to manifest in people biologically identical to past lives. Such as in your case and sometimes Talia. As well as a handful of others.”

“And I’ve met you in a lot of these lives?”

“We’ve met you, in one form or another, in nearly every dimension we’ve lived in,” Damian stated, “But I think those are just a small portion of the lives you’ve actually had.”

“Oh…”

“Indigo, do you know what we are?” Vikram asked gently.

I took a deep breath and said, “I think so… but if I say it and I’m wrong, I’ll sound crazy.”

“You just saw us recover from a bullet to the head,” Damian laughed, “I don’t think it will sound crazier than that.”

“Okay… Y’all are zombies right?” I asked, fighting back a smile.

Damian raised an eyebrow at me, “Zombies? Really?”

“Yeah, like brain eating zombies.”

“Would a bullet to the brain not kill a zombie?” Vikram asked reasonably.

“Oh, shoot, you’re right! Guess I don’t know what y’all are then.”

Damian rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m a vampire, Indigo.”

“You are?” I gasped and wrapped my hands around my neck protectively.

“Wow,” Damian said, “Just wow.”

Vikram chuckled appreciatively.

“Any hilarious responses to Vikram being a werewolf?” Damian asked.

I dropped my hands from my neck and frowned deeply, thinking hard. “No, I’m not that creative. I just stole that one from Twilight, so…”

“Ah, good, so Twilight exists in your world.”

“I’ve lived in worlds where it didn’t? The horror!” I said with great sarcasm.

“Indeed,” he agreed gravely, “Whatever would you do without Twilight to reference?”

“It would be a great sadness. What about True Blood?”

“No vampire media you would know was made after the nineties in some of the worlds. Because vampires came out then. There still was vampire fiction, but it was very different.”

“Oh… Well, that sounds horrifying.”

“It was. Moving on, are you alright with the fact that you’re here with a vampire and werewolf?”

“I don’t have much choice… It looks like we’re stuck here.”

“Damian, I believe, was more attempting to gauge your reaction to us than anything, Indigo,” Vikram explained. “Are you afraid of us?”

“Well… yeah, but not because of the werewolf or vampire thing.”

“Just anxiety?” Damian asked.

“That and… how do I know y’all are who you say you are? Maybe someone stole my laptop or stalked my tumblr enough to know…” I stopped myself, biting my lip hard.

“You’ve written of us?” Damian asked, smiling widely.

“No,” I denied tensely.

“It is alright, Indigo,” Vikram assured me, “It is unlikely that we exist in your world. We can remain as fictional characters there.”

“Is there anything we can do to prove we are ourselves?” Damian asked.

“Uh… I don’t know. I mean, I don’t even know if you’re really a vampire.”

“You saw our heads heal, didn’t you?”

“Maybe it was movie makeup or something… I didn’t look that closely. Gore freaks me out.”

“Alright,” Damian nodded, “I can easily prove I’m a vampire. I don’t want to scare you, though.”

“H-how?” I asked shakily.

“My eyes will turn red and my fangs will come out.”

“No weird forehead?”

He chuckled, “No, not like Buffy vampires. No weird veins like Vampire Diaries either. Just the eye color and fangs.”

“Okay… I’d like to see.”

“Alright. You won’t freak out?”

“No promises…”

“Sometimes people’s automatic reaction is to try to run,” he explained gently, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Is it that scary?”

He shrugged, “I think it just causes a visceral reaction in some people. Even with warning, they can’t help but try to get away. Maybe something in them sees the… predator in it.”

“You… won’t bite me, though, right?” I asked, feeling silly.

But he didn’t laugh. Damian just said firmly, “No, I won’t.”

“Alright. I’m ready,” I said, steeling myself.

Damian took a deep breath and his irises flooded with red, glowing slightly. His mouth, agape, showed two fangs lower into visibility below his upper lip.

“Oh,” my eyes widened as I took all that in. But before I could really appraise it, his eyes faded back to brown and his fangs disappeared. “But… how does it work?”

Damian raised an eyebrow.

“Where do the fangs come from?” I asked eagerly, “Are they your normal canines or do you shapeshift or are they like… in your gums and come down?”

He smiled, his teeth looking completely normal. Behind me, Vikram chuckled lightly.

“They’re in my gums.”

“Like completely concealed?” I asked.

“Yes,” Damian confirmed, seeming amused.

“So does it hurt? When they come out?”

“A little. It’s more like an ache in my whole upper jaw. The fangs cut my gums when they come out, but that doesn’t hurt significantly anymore.”

“Why do your eyes turn red? Is that like… blood flowing to them? Like in Twilight, the red eyes are the blood they drink.”

“No, I think it’s just for effect, actually. I know it’s not blood because my eyes can turn red even if I’m completely drained and starved, without blood in my system.”

“Oh, wow… That’s so cool. Can you feel when your eyes do that?”

“Yes, they burn.”

“Ouch,” I winced, “I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t that bad,” he assured me, “Indigo… you’re amazing.”

I blinked, “What? Why? Have I never… asked things before?”

“No, actually. Not like this.”

“Sorry,” I whispered, hanging my head.

Damian moved off his stool and knelt in front of me. He put his hand under my chin and raised my head to meet his eyes, “Don’t apologize for being curious. I like it.”

“Can…?” I stopped myself and inhaled sharply.

“What is it?” he prompted gently.

“No, never mind…”

“Indigo,” he pleaded.

I sighed and said, “Can I see it again?”

He smiled widely and nodded. Damian moved to sit beside me and took my hands in his. He looked deeply into my eyes and then his eyes slowly became red again. Close up, I could see that the glow wasn’t just a trick of the light but his eyes did have a faint glow. He opened his mouth slightly and I saw his fangs lower.

“C-can you talk with fangs?” I asked, feeling embarrassed.

“I can,” Damian confirmed, “I used to have trouble not slurring my words with them, but practice makes perfect.”

“How… Can you just do this at will?”

“Sort of. It takes… mental control.”

“What do you mean?”

“You won’t like it,” he warned.

“What?” I prompted.

“To do this, I have to imagine biting someone.”

My eyes widened.

“I promised you I would not bite you,” he reiterated, “But I didn’t promise I wouldn’t picture it.”

“Oh,” I squeaked, “Okay.”

“You’re not in any danger, Indigo,” he assured me, his eyes fading to brown and his fangs disappearing. “Not from me. Not from Vikram.”

I smiled at him, though I was sure it was a nervous smile. “I know. Just… Were you really imagining biting me?”

He chuckled, “Yes. It’s easiest to work with the person right in front of me. When I can hear your heartbeat and smell your blood.”

“But you’re not actually tempted?”

“Tempted? Very,” he corrected. “But I don’t act on my every temptation.” Damian was still holding my hands and started rubbing his thumbs over the back of them in slow circles.

“Perhaps we should address where we are,” Vikram suggested.

“Right,” Damian released my hands and cleared his throat, he moved to sit next to Vikram on the bed, leaving me on the foot of the bed, “Indigo, do you know about Realm Keepers?”

I glowered and nodded.

“Appropriate reaction,” he chuckled, “Chances are, a Realm Keeper plucked us from our worlds to put us here. This doesn’t… feel like an organic dimension. You start to be able to tell the difference eventually.”

“So what do we do?” I asked.

“If a Realm Keeper brought us here, there is nothing we can do,” Vikram said sadly, “They control everything in their realms. We cannot leave without them opening a portal.”

“So we’re trapped? In this tiny house?”

“For now,” Damian nodded.

“Will you be alright?” I asked Vikram, concerned that he didn’t seem like he was in as good shape as Damian.

He smiled, “Healing takes energy for me, so I am very tired.”

“My blood would help,” Damian reminded him.

“There is no immediate threat, love,” Vikram said patiently, “I see no reason to rush my healing.”

“No reason not to rush it,” Damian argued.

Vikram said something in that other language and Damian laughed and nodded.

I frowned, not liking the feeling of being left out.

“So what all do we have here?” Damian got up from the bed and moved to the kitchen. It sounded rhetorical so I didn’t reply and he started opening cabinets and drawers as I had. More than I had gotten to before he and Vikram started reviving. “Oh, nice,” he said as he opened the fridge and freezer, “I’d say there’s about two weeks worth of food.”

“Two weeks?” My jaw dropped, “You think they’re gonna keep us here that long?”

“Maybe. They’ve kept us in places like this much longer than that.”

“Fuck,” I muttered and then my eyes widened fearfully as I glanced between the two of them.

“You can curse as much as you want, Indigo,” Damian said with a chuckle.

“Okay… I’m used to being around people who don’t like it when I do.”

“We’re trapped in this shithole by a fucking Realm Keeper,” Damian said, “I think it’s forgivable to be upset by that.”

I covered my mouth with my hand to stifle my laughter.

Damian moved to the curtained doorway to investigate the bathroom. When he emerged, he was frowning deeply.

“No real privacy here,” he said, an apologetic note to his voice.

“Oh…” I said softly. “Right.”

“Anyone hungry?” Damian asked, returning to the kitchen.

“I’m fine,” I said and looked back at Vikram.

“No, I believe I just need rest,” he stated.

I got up from the bed and moved to the stool left in front of the bar and sat there. Vikram returned to laying back flat on the bed, his eyes closing. Damian appraised the food in the cabinets.

“Speaking will not disturb me,” Vikram said after a few moments of silence, “I can sleep through anything.”

Damian chuckled and faced me from across the bar, “Tell me about your life.”

“Do I… have to?” I asked, grimacing, “It’d actually be nice for this to just be an escape from it for a while.”

“Alright,” Damian nodded, “No problem. Can I ask about books and movies?”

“Sure.”

“Has Midnight Sun come out yet?”

I groaned, “Unfortunately. I just finished it a few weeks ago. That was a twenty five hour long audiobook! I suffered for twenty five long hours.”

“You listen to audiobooks?”

“Yeah, I just don’t have the motivation to sit and read anymore. Feels like a waste of time when I could be doing other stuff. I can play video games while listening to audiobooks or even do chores, so it’s more efficient. And I’m less likely to miss things by skimming over them. It does result in twenty five hours of Edward Cullen’s horrendous thoughts, though.”

Damian grinned, “They were pretty horrible.”

“Poor Rosalie… The author did her dirty.”

“Indeed,” he agreed.

“Though, I have to hand it to her… It seems like her writing vastly improved since Twilight. There wasn’t a single lengthy description of a room I didn’t care about. That was a huge problem when I was listening to the gender swapped one.”

“That would certainly be annoying when you can’t skim it. So what do you think of Edward now that you’ve heard twenty five hours of his thoughts?”

“He’s very sexist, but that’s just because the author is. She hates women who have any self confidence. If a woman isn’t completely content with her life like Angela, she’s just a bad person. If she thinks she’s pretty, she’s a bad person. If she thinks Edward is attractive, she’s a bad person. Except for Bella, but he can’t read her mind so it’s okay I guess?” I groaned and rolled my eyes, “I fucking hate Edward Cullen’s guts.”

Damian smiled widely, “Good. I don’t need competition for being the most attractive fictional vampire in your world.”

“Wow… Cocky much?”

“Yes, but it’s okay because I’m not a woman,” he quipped.

“True,” I agreed, “Men are allowed to be whatever they want and it’s perfectly fine.”

“So shall I assume you didn’t like Midnight Sun then?”

“No, I actually loved it,” I shook my head, “I mean, I hated it and I loved it, but that’s just Twilight for me. It overall was really good. She’s a stinkin’ good writer sometimes. Just because I hate Edward doesn’t mean I didn’t find a good chunk of his thoughts interesting. I liked seeing how Alice’s visions worked first hand. I liked getting to know Emmett and Jasper better. I liked seeing Edward’s inner struggles when he first started watching Bella sleep. That was a really good depiction of anxiety.”

“It was,” Damian agreed, “And a very accurate depiction of what it is like to be a vampire in love with a delicate human.”

I let out my breath in a whoosh as realizations hit me. Damian had been in Edward’s position. Many times, probably. And if my dream/memories were right, several of those times were with me.

“R-really?” I squeaked out.

He smiled gently, “Yes. It is hard when you know the smallest things can result in the death of someone you love. A misstep on stairs. Choking on food. A meteorite crashing through the roof. The possibilities are endless.”

“How do you deal with it?” I asked quietly.

“It can depend on the person. I try to respect boundaries as much as possible. Unlike Edward, I don’t sneak into their house. I can’t enter without an invitation, but even if I could I wouldn’t. I have been known to stay outside their house all night, but generally I stay far enough away that I can’t hear their nightly activities.”

“Like sleep talking?”

“Among other things,” he said vaguely, “The dark and quiet of the night is when some people feel the most comfortable being themselves and I have no wish to invade their privacy. Whether it is staying up late to watch an offensive comedy or talking in their sleep, it isn’t appropriate for me to spy on them. I can’t say I never have, but I avoid it and try to be certain I have a good justification for it.”

“So you haven’t spied on me while I slept?”

“Hmm…” he frowned, “Technically, I haven’t because I’ve never met you specifically.”

“So you have,” I gave a small amused scoff.

“Yes, I have. But I had good reason.”

“And the reason was…?”

“Not something I want to share right now.”

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Indigo,” he said gently, “I do not want to cause you to think of unpleasant things.”

“But… so…”

He sighed, “I kept a close eye on you when I knew you were at risk of attempting to harm yourself.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s probably a good justification…”

“Have you read any other books lately?” He changed the subject, smiling at me brightly.

“That was the last one I did. Before that was the Sookie Stackhouse books. I planned to start Midnight, Texas after finishing Midnight Sun, but… Life got weird so I’m taking a break from books for now.”

“What did you think of the Sookie Stackhouse books?”

I glowered, “Sookie ended up with Sam! Ugh!”

Damian laughed, “She did.”

“I don’t really have any other thoughts on the books. That kinda stained the whole thing for me.”

“How would you have preferred it end? Sookie and Eric? Or Bill?”

“Ew, no! I liked the show’s ending. As much as I hate season seven, that was the only satisfying possible ending. Bill literally raped her and Eric… Those vampires can make being bitten really pleasant and he bit her and purposefully made it hurt while they were together. As punishment for something, I think. I don’t remember the reason. Maybe Sam really was the best option in the books, but… Wait, no. He wasn’t. Quinn was but nooooo. Quinn had to have baggage.”

“Ah, a fan of the weretiger,” Damian grinned.

“That’s why I wanted to read Midnight, Texas. I saw on the Sookie Stackhouse Wikia that he was in at least one of the books. And his son, I think. Plus, I actually kinda liked the show. Until the end of the first season when… Well…”

Damian grimaced, “Yeah, if you know me, you know I’m not a fan of that part of the plot either.”

“It fucked the whole thing up for me. I was really into it and the virginity thing just ruined it. Plus, I think I really wanted that character to be gay so…” I frowned, trying to remember.

“I can see that,” Damian agreed.

“Anyways, I’m gonna read the books and hope they’re better.” Damian opened his mouth to speak but I held up a finger, “No spoilers.”

“Alright,” he chuckled, “No spoilers. Just… don’t get your hopes too high.”

“They’re not. But the show… it really was my thing, you know? A town full of supernaturals who help and support each other… It really hit all the right buttons for me. So I guess my only real hope is that the book will do the same, but more in depth. That is something that author is good at because the Sookie Stackhouse books did the same to a degree. So maybe the virginity thing is still a thing and maybe Quinn’s cameo is worthless, but… I’m sure there’ll be some good in there.”

Damian smiled and nodded, “I think so.”

“So you really have read a lot of vampire books, huh?”

“I have. More than even exist in your world.”

“Impressive. You have less of a life than me,” I commented, smiling widely in amusement.

“Ouch,” he put his hand over his heart, “You cut me to the core.”

“Aw, poor vampire,” I pouted dramatically.

Damian chuckled and shook his head, “So what do you do while listening to these audio books?”

My smile disappeared and I dropped my gaze to the counter in front of me.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed with me, Indigo,” he said gently.

“Well… I play video games.”

“Red Dead?” he asked.

I looked up at him in surprise.

“One of your lives… We listened to the Sookie Stackhouse books together while playing Red Dead Online. I… helped you max out as a bounty hunter so you could get your Breton.”

“Steel grey?” I asked.

“You braided the mane and tail and changed them to black,” he nodded.

“I named mine Knight,” I said softly, in awe.

He smiled sadly, “With a k?”

I nodded, eyes wide.

“You managed to do it on your own?” he asked, his voice a little rough with emotion.

“Yeah… it took a while, but I did.”

“Have they added the new role?”

“Naturalist? Yeah.”

He smiled, “You like it?”

“It’s perfect. I mean, not really from a technical point of view. The stamp thing is confusing and annoying. But when…” my cheeks reddened, “When I was a kid, I’d pretend to tranquilize animals in hunting games, so… It’s nice for a real game to do that. So I can still hunt, which I like doing, but not feel badly about killing animals.”

“You maxed out as a naturalist very quickly, without any help from me,” he stated.

“It took less than a week,” I admitted, “I got some bonus experience points to start with and… Well, you get fifty points for every sample sold and I got a lot of samples. And finished a few of the collections quickly, which was a thousand points. Plus ten points for every revived animal… It just added up and I was finished before I even realized it. But unlike bounty hunting or the trader junk, that doesn’t stop me from still taking samples. Because it’s just fun.”

“And the naturalist’s horses?”

I grimaced, “The Irish Cobs?”

He chuckled, “That’s not what they were called in the other dimension.”

“Well, whether that’s what the game calls them or not, it’s what I call them because I’m not going to include a slur in a horse name.”

“Alright,” he nodded, “They were your favorite breed, weren’t they? In real life, I mean.”

“They were and are. No horse can compare to the beauty and elegance of the Irish Cob. They’re pure perfection in the shape of a horse.”

“So you got one in Red Dead?”

I sighed, “Yes, I did. But honestly, I’m not a fan. They’re too tall and the only one I liked was a level one. The white one. She’s fine, I guess. I prefer my Breton. No one can compare to Knight in Red Dead. I’m not sure why I bother getting any other horses.”

“You know you like having a variety,” Damian pointed out.

“True. So I’m exactly like this other me you apparently spent a lot of time with?”

“Very similar.”

“How’d… How’d we meet?” I asked.

Damian reached across the counter and took my hand in his, “Wouldn’t you rather we enjoy our time here together?”

I frowned at him, “Well now I’m suspicious.”

He chuckled and lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“When you say… ‘enjoy our time together,’” I began shakily, “What do you mean?”

Damian smiled, “Exactly what I said.”

“Do you have to be so cryptic?”

“Alright, I’ll be blunt,” he released my hand, “I mean that I want to spend time with you in whatever capacity you’re most comfortable with. Whether that’s just talking about vampire media and video games or having sex.”

My heart pounded in my chest and I glanced back at Vikram. He looked sound asleep on the bed.

“He won’t mind,” Damian assured me, “And once he’s feeling better, I’m sure he’d be a willing participant.”

“I’ve never had sex,” I told him worriedly.

“That’s alright. You can set the pace. That is, if you want to. It’s not necessary, I just know from past experience that you tend to want to have sex with us. If that isn’t the case here, that’s not an issue.”

“I don’t know yet.”

He nodded, “We just met. I didn’t want to bring it up so quickly, but it seemed that you were thinking about it and I always think it’s best for all cards to be on the table.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“All that said,” Damian frowned deeply, “Whoever put us here supplied us with the barest basics and sadly, no sex toys or tools.”

I swallowed hard, “Oh?”

“No lube,” he clarified, “Which is… not ideal. Or condoms.”

My body vibrated with tenseness at those words.

“Indigo,” Damian said softly, “You don’t need to worry about anything.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to talk about sex so… practically,” I admitted in a whisper.

“That’s fine. I won’t bring it up again.”

“Okay,” I nodded, “Thanks. Umm… So the bathroom has no door, huh?”

“Just the curtain.”

“Well that’ll be fun to deal with…”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed about bodily functions.”

“Yet I am. Funny how that works.”

“It is, actually,” he frowned, “Humans… So strange.”

“Is there at least a vent? A fan? Something to make noise so I’m not in a silent bathroom?”

“There was a switch for it.”

“Oh, good. I hate silence.”

Damian moved to one of the upper cabinets I hadn’t managed to search and opened it, “Towels are here. For when you shower.”

“Ugh,” I groaned, “I didn’t even think of showering…”

“Vikram and I will respect your privacy as much as we can.”

“Thanks. And… uh… just let me know what I can do for y’all.”

“We will.”

I shuffled uncomfortably on the stool.

“You need to use the bathroom, don’t you?”

“Unfortunately.”

Damian moved to a different cabinet and pulled out a roll of toilet paper, offering it to me. My face must have been so very red as I took it and muttered a ‘thanks.’

The bathroom was small and cramped. I closed the curtain as best I could, but I could still see out the cracks. I flipped the switch and the low rumble of the fan turned on. It wasn’t very powerful, but it was something so I wasn’t just listening to silence as I sat on the toilet.

There was soap by the sink so I was able to wash my hands, but I didn’t realize until too late that there were no towels. I turned the switch off with my elbow and emerged. When Damian spotted my wet hands, he pulled out a small hand towel and offered it to me.

“Thanks,” I said, my face burning hot.

“We’ll keep it on the hook by the curtain,” Damian suggested.

I hadn’t noticed that on the wall next to the doorway were a series of hooks. I put the hand towel there once I was done.

“We will also need to remember to remove the toilet paper before anyone showers,” Damian said, “Or else we will go through it very quickly.”

I sat on the stool across from him again, frowning. A question burned in me but I was too embarrassed to ask.

“Yes, vampires occasionally need to use toilets,” Damian stated, very delicately.

I covered my face with my hands.

“That’s what you were wondering, right?”

“Do you read minds?” I grumbled.

“Yes, but that’s not how I knew.”

I uncovered my face and looked at him in shock.

“I have to be touching someone to read their mind,” he explained, “I just… sort of know how your brain works sometimes, so I assumed that was why you had that look in your eyes. I’m not embarrassed to talk about my bodily functions, Indigo.”

“Good for you,” I grumbled, “So…?”

“When I drink blood, it is digested very similarly to how humans digest food. Some of it is useless to my body and therefore has to pass through it, just like food does for you. Plus, I can eat human food and that works the same way.”

“So no coughing up pizza?”

He smiled, “No coughing up pizza.”

“Not sure which is grosser…” I frowned thoughtfully.

“That’s fair.”

“So the blood doesn’t just go… straight into your veins?” I questioned.

“No, it has to be processed. That’s how it turns into vampire blood, instead of just staying human blood when it’s in me.”

“Wow…” I breathed, “And vampire blood heals?”

“It does.”

“And… so you’re alive, right? Your heart beats?”

“It does,” he held out his hand. Tentatively, I put my hand in his and then he brought it to his chest, pressing my palm against him.

I felt the firm, steady rhythm of his heart beneath my hand.

“Wow,” I said again, completely in awe, “That’s amazing.”

He released my hand, smiling.

“Before you mentioned… not having blood in your system…”

“If I go too long without feeding, and we’re talking a year or so, or if I’m purposefully drained of blood, then my body can’t function properly anymore. My blood serves the same purpose as yours. It carries oxygen to my muscles. Without that, I don’t die but I can’t move.”

“So you need to breathe?”

“I do. I can hold my breath for much longer than a human safely can, but ultimately, I still need oxygen to function.”

“And… your heart can’t beat?”

He nodded, “When starved of blood or oxygen, or both, my heart stops.”

“Then how can you revive? If you can’t move, you can’t swallow and digest blood…”

“At that point, my body can actually absorb blood. I haven’t figured out exactly how it works, but when it is on my skin, it’s absorbed and processed to a degree. It isn’t the same as properly drinking it, but that can help my body start working again so then I can feed. I haven’t studied this aspect of my biology very thoroughly because… Well, it requires I be starved or drained and that isn’t something I purposefully do to myself. It’s… painful.”

“I’d imagine so… That’s good, at least, that your body has a way of coming back from that. If you couldn’t…”

“Then it would essentially be death for me,” he nodded, “I would be conscious but… unable to move at all. No possibility for recovery.”

“So you have recovered from it?”

“A handful of times. Thankfully very few for how long I’ve lived.”

“How… how often do you feed?” I asked hesitantly.

“It depends on my activity level at the time, as well as how much I take. When our lives are settled into a fairly normal routine, I typically feed from Vikram one to three times a week. If I’m feeding on multiple people, sometimes I do it nearly every day, but I take very little.”

“How long can you go without feeding?”

“Technically forever,” he chuckled, “But you mean how long before there are consequences?”

I nodded.

“If I haven’t been drained… It’s hard to say because I do try to feed often, but I would say three months, depending on other factors. At a month, I most certainly would be unpleasant to be around, but it would take longer for me to be genuinely dangerous. In my younger years, I wasn’t very safe past a week, but I’ve built a tolerance.”

“So you’re… safe to be around usually?”

“Extremely. When it comes to blood, I have very good self control. Unless I have gone quite a while without feeding or was drained of blood, I’m not a danger to anyone. Even if they had an open wound.”

“If I cut my finger accidently…?”

“It wouldn’t be a problem. I fed just two days ago.”

“On…?” I asked, but then shook my head, “Wait, that’s probably really personal. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mind getting personal. I fed on a man I met at a club.”

“Oh… And you… umm…”

“We had sex and I fed on him. I took very little, but I fed the previous night too. And the night before that. I was having a bit of a week, so I spent a lot of time at bars and clubs.”

“Just… having sex and feeding?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, unabashed. “Does that bother you?”

“No, it just… It’s weird to think about.”

“It is a different way of living than you’re used to.”

“Yeah. Umm… Can I ask you something that might be offensive?”

“Alright…” he agreed, seeming a little surprised, “I’m not easily offended, Indigo. Don’t be afraid to ask me anything.”

“Okay. Do you… prefer men?”

Damian smiled and said, “No, I don’t have a preference for my sexual partners. Men, women, nonbinary people, other genders… It genuinely doesn’t matter to me.”

“Oh. But what about… like what parts they have? I know any gender could have any parts, but…”

“That doesn’t matter to me either. Really the only things I can about are that they’re enthusiastically consenting, that they’re an appropriate age, and that we have enough communication to ensure a good time for all. When I am meeting people purely for sex, few other factors matter.”

“What if they’re married?”

“If I know they’re purposefully cheating on their spouse, I do usually put a stop to it.”

“Usually?”

“Sometimes they know they’re in a toxic relationship and are just looking for some validation outside of that. It isn’t malicious, it’s… a form of self care. I offer them what help I can for them to escape, but sometimes all I can do is give them an enjoyable evening. There are those who are the stereotypical cheating spouse. They want to hurt their partner, or just want a thrill. I don’t take part in that if I discover that’s the case.”

“But you don’t investigate first?”

“There is usually very little time for any investigation of any kind,” he chuckled, “I am good at seeing the signs of a cheating spouse, but ultimately… it isn’t my fault that they’re cheating. If it wasn’t with me, it would be with someone else. Like I said, if I know, I put a stop to it because that doesn’t feel right. But if I don’t…”

“How… how can you do it?” I asked in amazement, “Sex is so… intimate and you just… How?”

“I don’t view sex the same way you do,” he said gently, “For me, it’s just an activity. Something enjoyable to do.”

“With strangers? With people you don’t even know or like?”

“I enjoy the variety. Every person is different and every experience is different. I don’t need a deep connection with someone to have that experience with them.”

I crossed my arms in front of me protectively, “I see.”

“That said… it is different when I have a connection with someone. Sex with strangers is… just sex with strangers. When I’m with someone like Vikram or others I care deeply for… it’s different.”

“How?”

“I’m not sure I can put it into words. Not English words, at least. As much as I enjoy sex with a variety of people, it is infinitely more pleasurable when it’s with someone I love.”

“Then why have sex with other people?”

“I don’t sleep, Indigo. And I’ve lived for thousands of years and I’m going to live for thousands more. In that time, I don’t always have more than Vikram with me and he has to sleep and eat and sometimes simply isn’t in the mood for sex. And… I do enjoy the variety. I love him, I love making love with him. But sometimes I crave more.”

“Okay… I’m sorry, I’ve pried into your personal life and it’s not my business.”

“I would argue that it is,” Damian disagreed gently.

“I don’t mean to sound judgmental. I’m really sorry if I do. I just can’t wrap my head around it.”

“That’s alright. As I said, I’m not easily offended. If it isn’t something you can accept, I understand.”

“Accept? Why does it matter if I accept it?”

“What I mean is, if it prevents you from wanting a relationship with me, I understand,” he clarified.

“Oh…”

“I highly doubt that we will see each other again after the Realm Keeper frees us from here, but if we did, I would cease seeing anyone else.”

“You… would?”

“Having sex with multiple people is something I enjoy, but isn’t necessary. It doesn’t bother Vikram, which is why I do so. But if it bothers you, then while we’re together, I won’t have sex with anyone but you and Vikram.”

“Oh… We’d be… semi monogamous?”

“Precisely. I wouldn’t pursue any romantic or sexual relations outside of you and Vikram.”

“And you’d just be okay with that?”

“If it made you happy, yes.”

“I guess it probably won’t matter. You’re right. I doubt we’ll see each other again after this.”

“We can dream, though.”

“A dream isn’t a commitment.”

“No, but it is a commitment I’ve made to your past lives.”

“You have?”

“Yes. Past Indigos and Talias. It’s not something I’m just saying now to make you happy. It’s a promise I’ve made before and know I can happily keep.”

“But would you be happy? You just said…”

“Think of it like a hobby. One of many I can engage in. It’s something I enjoy greatly. Probably one of my favorite hobbies. But I only do it because it doesn’t harm anyone I care about. The minute it does, I can stop.”

“And pick it up again once I’m dead?”

Damian frowned but nodded.

“Right.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I want to be truthful with you, but sometimes the truth can hurt.”

“No, I’m glad you’re being honest. It’s… best that way.”

Damian said something in the other language and I turned to see Vikram stretching and yawning. Once he was done, Vikram replied and shrugged as he stood.

“Good morning,” I said as Vikram approached, bringing the abandoned stool with him.

“Thank you for allowing me to sleep,” Vikram stated, setting the stool in front of the bar and sitting, “I feel much better now.”

“Great,” I smiled at him, “Sorry if we woke you…”

“You did not,” he assured me.

“He can sleep through anything,” Damian chuckled, “Don’t worry about him.”

“I worry about everything. I have anxiety,” I reminded Damian.

“It has been a strenuous day,” Vikram said gently, “Perhaps you would like to try to rest?”

“Oh. Umm… I’m not sure I can.”

“Indigo, do you know of my ability?” Damian asked.

“Your mind reading?”

He chuckled, “My mind control.”

“Oh. Yeah, a bit.”

“I can make you sleep,” he offered, “If you wanted.”

“Would that be restful?”

“It makes you fall asleep, but after that, it’s a natural sleep.”

“You wouldn’t make me do anything else?”

“No, Indigo. I wouldn’t.”

“I am really tired…”

“The bed is yours,” Vikram told me, “I will not need to sleep for quite a while now and Damian does not sleep.”

“Right… okay.”

I got up and moved over to the bed. The opposite side that Vikram slept on. It felt weird climbing into bed wearing clothes, especially the oversized button up shirt, but I wasn’t going to change with them there. I pulled the blankets up around me and laid on the pillow.

Damian came towards me and offered his hand.

“It needs contact to work,” he told me, “If you want me to help.”

I nodded and held out my hand. He took it and I felt all my worries fade from me. My tense body relaxed and I let out a sigh of relief.

“Sleep,” Damian’s voice ordered. It echoed strangely in my head and I felt compelled to obey.

[marvelmaniac715]

may I ask how you 'accidentally' started writing fanfiction?

Sure! So basically, about a year or so ago, I started my Tumblr account and was barely posting anything. Then one day, I posted a very rough, unedited Chucky fic about a head canon of mine, just to store it somewhere really, then people started liking and reblogging it, so to thank them I wrote a part 2 to that au, then a part 3… Suffice to say, I was soon uploading a fic a week to Tumblr, sometimes more. I don’t really post my fics on here anymore, or even that much about Chucky (sorry guys, stuff is coming I swear) but I like to remember how it all began. That part of my bio is just a little joke, but in a way it’s true - my very first fic got surprisingly well-liked in my fandom by complete accident :).

[strawberryicebreakers]

HELLO i hope this ask finds u well :]

so not to be annoying or anything but out of curiosity (and immense unending passion for the topic and also your fanfic) is there a chance the uhf fic will finish? not like, right now or in a month, but just in general :)) sorry ive read the draft like 10 times by now and yknow lol :)) have a lovely day from the weird al fans of tumblr!!

hello!!! your ask finds me in one of my labs, hunkered down between classes.

it's completely alright to ask! there's always a chance I'll go back to any of my drafts [including anything I've posted to ao3 and unfortunately abandoned over the years], but I'm still working on my longer ted lasso fic [which is now at 123k! very weird to know I wrote that much] and I'm a bit worried that trying to revisit an older draft might knock me out of my groove before I finish it.

that being said! I still do incredibly appreciate all the love you + others have given the draft so far; it's so sweet to see people so passionate about something I'm playing around with [and I think of the one comic that was drawn nearly every day]. there's a scene or two that're further down the plot of the story than I wrote in the draft [ergo, doesn't take place right where the draft stops] but I'd still love to share it as a thank-you. as always, it's very unedited, very rough, but hopefully something to y'all will enjoy. :) have a nice day as well!

Sinatra wasn’t the worst to listen to, but when it seemed as though all the radio stations in Oklahoma could loop through were the man’s Christmas albums, Robert could understand why some people would have a grudge against the guy. It’d been an hour and a half of Sinatra, Sinatra, and even more Sinatra, slowly driving a wedge into whatever Christmas spirit he still had at the ripe-old age of twenty-five. 

Teri’s parents lived all the way in the suburbs of Oklahoma City, a far cry away from his and George’s apartment in Tulsa. Usually, the traffic would make him wish for a day where faster-than-light travel was the norm, but at two in the morning on Christmas Day, I-44 had been all but deserted.

Even with the lights strung ‘round each house, little reindeer pulling plastic sleighs that gleamed back under his headlights, Robert had to turn his brights on to see the house numbers. His car slowed to a crawl, creeping through the picture of perfect suburbia. 

Each house was perfect in its own right; a blanket of snow on each lawn, a wreath on each door, a brand new car or two in each driveway. He’d bet his life savings that all (save one or two) of the houses had perfect families, too. A husband and his wife, their two kids, an overexcited dog or a temperamental cat. 

It used to nauseate him, seeing places like this, knowing this would be his life. That he’d be the father waking up on Christmas to a wife wrapped around him, that he’d have to -, do things with her that he didn’t want to think about doing. 

He shuddered, chilled despite his heater working overtime and then some. Usually, his car was on the colder side ‘cause Robert ran hot, but George was more delicate than he was. He hadn’t grown up in Oklahoma, wasn’t used to how cold the winters got. If George had it his way, they’d live in a damn blast furnace from the second the temperature began to drop. 

He parked, an inch from the curb of the nicest house he’d ever seen, staring at a mailbox that someone’d painted “The Cambells” on in curly, vintage font. 

With a pre-emptive cringe, he honked his horn, quick as he could. It was what he’d told George he’d do when he got here, letting him know he was good to run out. 

Robert stared at the door, waiting to see the familiar head of curls he’d grown fond of. He didn’t know what to expect, not after getting a frantic phone call at half-past midnight, begging for him to pick him up. 

There was a joke somewhere in there, that George got lucky that Robert’s a night owl, but before he could hoot down the phone, he’d realized George was serious. It wasn’t some midnight worry, not a kid asking his mom to pick him up ‘cause he can’t sleep without a certain blanket. 

George knew how far the drive was, how miserable it’d be to drive in the middle of the night. He knew how bad it’d be for him and Teri if he disappeared without goodbye.

And yet, he called.

Robert didn’t think there’d ever be a time in his life where he wouldn’t answer.

[amememightywarrior]

Sometimes I really struggle with the fact that my focus is actually my own original fiction but I don't want to post it online here because most only care about fandom and fan works...think I've only shown one friend any original writing of mine in the past like 6 years, painstakingly copypasted into discord a while back (sorry Francel, I still haven't continued the story I was showing you XD).

Sometimes I find self-published stuff from other people and find I have no interest. Or the writing's bad or unedited and I struggle already with reading stuff these days anyway. Like...is that me? Am I also like these people? Would I also engender the same reaction if I were to self-publish? Or even send in my writing to literary agents? Moreover, do I want people making fanworks of my stuff and getting the characterization wrong or making up things that aren't there because my writing isn't good enough for them and they have a bone to pick with me when all I'm doing is writing something I want to read and just happened to be marketable? I get that this is not often the case but I see people constantly bitching about this or that in a published work these days and just feel like I would ignore everyone completely so I don't have to deal with it. I'd be a terrible famous author. I'd also hire a team of lawyers to make sure no one makes some shitty hollywood derivative of my work that white washes and sanitizes everything until 150 years after my death, but I mean that actually seems like a smart thing to do these days if you don't want some asshole director coming in and saying 'what if the protag was some white dude and it was just a clone of conan the barbarian because i really wanted to direct conan the barbarian but they didn't let me!' (if you know you know) (i know a lot of lawyers btw so if i were ever in this situation i'd have a clause that lets me shut the whole thing down, like fuck that guy and his ego, he made a terrible movie and there's a reason they didn't let him take over conan the barbarian)

It's the same ol problem I've been wrestling with since first joining ff.net when I was 14. At least my family likes my writing. When my grandma was alive she totally shipped some of my characters together, which was hilarious. I think she'd enjoy the stuff I wrote after she passed. My parents probably wonder if I've quit entirely...

Well, since making it off duloxetine I've been a lot more motivated to write and draw. We'll see if I can get back to it. Will I share it with the world? ...only the fanfic, probably. If i ever get famous you'll know it was me because somehow dragons are involved when they normally aren't and there's one character with social anxiety who speaks in run-on sentences when flustered. Possibly it's the dragon with social anxiety. Also i've escaped the confines of tolkien-esque high fantasy and have no orcs or ogres or dwarves or elves. I'm tired of seeing those. oh and also tired of humans. you know what, next thing i write will be about birds. and dragons. bird dragons.

'add tags to help people find your post' go AWAY tumblr I do not wish to be found, i wish only to exist and occasionally be glimpsed from a distance by someone who respects me as a proper cryptid

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write 2022: Round Up!

Six years of FFXIV Write officially complete! 🎉 Congratulations to everyone who participated, whether you wrote one piece or thirty, wrote ten words or ten thousand: GREAT JOB!

Thank you as always to everyone for your cheerleading in various ways! I wasn’t able to respond to all the replies y’all left, but please know I treasure each one. ❤ And, of course, thank you to @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast​ as always for hosting and facilitating my annual surge of creativity.

And as it is now October, I proceed into my personal second phase: FFXIV Edit! For anyone new here, while the spirit and letter of the Write challenge to is not chase perfectionism and merely write (something I agree with), I acknowledge that I really enjoy being able to go back to an idea and give it polish, whether that’s simply an editing pass to clear up typos, tweak a bit of narration to make something clearer, or going hog wild and seriously fleshing an idea out even further. Everything on tumblr will remain raw and unedited, but all the edited pieces will go up daily on AO3, under the title Aethercharge.

Important Links:

Tumblr Master Post || Aethercharge

So, since 2018, as part of my round up posts, I’ve included stats, such as shortest and longest piece, continuing themes, etc. I’m not doing that this year.

With hindsight, I’ve noticed the past two FFXIV Writes I ended up hyperfocusing on my word count and comparing myself to my past writing attempts. Subconsciously, because this challenge had helped me flex my writing skills and improve, I thought the surest way to show that was to keep pushing myself. Last year, combined with finishing up the absolutely massive Epinikia just days before FFXIV Write, unconsciously setting minimum word counts for myself during the challenge and then raising the bar even further during my edit month, plus assorted other issues I won’t get into, all resulted in severe creative burnout.

Thus, even though making my own stats makes my brain go brrr, they also make it go brrr in bad ways. So, as I don’t want to fall back into bad habits of comparing myself to myself, no more stat write-ups. (I still love seeing everyone else’s stats, though! ❤ Brains are weird, I berated myself not measuring up to myself in the past, but I see all of you and go, “YEAH YOU DID THE THING I’M SO PROUD.” If there’s any advice I can give to y’all: giving yourself grace is no bad thing, as difficult as it can be, some days.)

So for this year, I promised myself I would stick to the spirit of the challenge. If a piece was done, it was done. If I didn’t end up doing one of my specific themes, so what. I focused instead on letting myself try out different tenses (lots of present tense this year!), and writing within canon (when normally I prefer to write in the bits between canon), and writing different character POVs, and also trying different styles and narrations.

I think on that front, I succeeded, and I had fun, and that’s all that matters! :D

[autumnslance]

Lyn’s 2021 FFXIV Write Post

Next year I am doing static headers and maybe trying to write less. We’ll see about that second part. Speaking of, thanks to FC mates @eorziapple​ @sabbactroll​ & @healerstail​ for helping with the above image!

Something written every day, and only one freebie entry (#19, “Wagers Due”) was a prewritten draft needing completed; on the other free days this year I wrote something new. I did not use the Surprise Extra Credit free day; the idea never quite gelled, and I have other things to write and edit.

When these are edited for Ao3, they will be scattered among my existing series and themed threads, and a new long fic. The prompts run the gamut of MSQ and a few side stories, each of my OCs, some of their families, and various NPCs on their own.

I’ll put stats and topic breakdowns below the cut for those who want to avoid such things.

1. Foster - C’oretta & Violet--who takes care of who? 2. Aberrant - Backstory; Corran Striker starts his doomed path. 3. Scale - Backstory; more of Corran’s heretical history. 4. Baleful - Keeping the Warrior of Light out of trouble is tough. 5. Passion - Free Day! Corran & Emelia’s spicy followup to “Aberrant” 6. Avatar - Vignettes of Ran’jit & his Minfilias. Headcanons applied. 7. Speculate - Backstory, Ser Alberic Bale seeing through a promise. 8. Adroit - A short bit of Thancred & Aeryn sweetness during Eden. 9. Friable - Backstory. Vignettes of Emelia’s POV over time. 10. Heady - A reason Alberic feared Aeryn meeting Avengret. 11. Preaching to the Choir - Brotherly understanding after “Heady.” 12. Strained - Free Day! Immediate follow up to #11, more Estinien. 13. Oneirophrenia - Sad robot adventure, or a hallucination? 14. Commend - Gaius and Iyna see to Werlyt’s troops. 15. Thunderous - Aeryn finally Echoes That Moment from Alberic. 16. Crane - Not easy being the shortest Marshal in the Alliance. 17. Destruct - They’ve been here before, but he can never stay. 18. Devil’s Advocate - Plans to deal with Avengret are debated. 19. Wagers Due - Free Day! A (silly) Scion welcome home in Ul’dah. 20. Petrichor - Thancred, Minfilia, & moments of rain. 21. Feckless - 2 times Edmont wasn’t brave, & a time he was. 22. Fluster - Dark Autumn, negotiations, and friends. 23. Soul - Aeryn has concerns about Alberic versus Avengret. 24. Illustrious - Aeryn struggled with magic before her heroics. 25. Silver Lining - Dark’s mother takes care of her friends, too. 26. Balance - Free Day! Thancred needs a break, Aeryn ensures it. 27. Benthos - Musing about the deeps while visiting Novv. 28. Bow - The team attempts their risky plan against Avengret. 29. Debonair - ARR, Thancred to the rescue at an overwhelming party. 30. Abstracted - The Echo, Hydaelyn, the past, and the near future.

Definitely my longest FFXIV Write yet. I dunno about favorites this year; I’m pretty pleased with most of them!

Based on unedited first Tumblr drafts: Totals w/out Wagers Due: 39,952 Totals with Wagers Due: 41,415 Longest Entry: 28 Bow - 2626 Shortest Entry: 16 Crane - 387

Also 2k+ Words: Not many but I Felt each one. Especially next morning getting up for work. 4 Baleful (2318), 9 Friable (2106), 15 Thunderous (2581), 24 Illustrious (2385)

Also Less Than 1k Words: Some of them felt longer when writing them and I was surprised how short they really were. They certainly add up when combined with the longer pieces! 1 Foster (797), 8 Adroit (550), 11 Preaching to the Choir (765), 13 Oneirophrenia (643), 14 Commend (836), 18 Devil’s Advocate (972), 22 Fluster (956), 28 Benthos (775), 29 Debonair (861), 30 Abstracted (964)

NPCs Sometimes I write about the canon characters without OCs involved. 6 Avatar, 16 Crane, 20 Petrichor, 21 Feckless 

Aeryn Striker, Warrior of Light (by herself) 13 Oneirophrenia, 24 Illustrious, 27 Benthos, 30 Abstracted

Shippy Nonsense: Aeryn & Thancred relationship related scenes and prompts, sappy sweet. 8 Adroit, 12 Strained (intro scene), 19 Wagers Due, 26 Balance, 28 Bow (couple lines), 29 Debonair (pre-ship) Honorable mention: 5 Passion (Aeryn’s young parents brought the lemons)

“Strained” got a silly screenshot set for that intro scene.

Corran, Avengret, and Alberic’s Guilt The surprise backstory growing out of the unexpected “Paternal” prompt from 2020. I do want to reorder, revise, and add onto this story! 2 Aberrant, 3 Scale, 4 Baleful, 5 Passion, 7 Speculate, 9 Friable, 10 Heady, 11 Preaching to the Choir, 12 Strained, 15 Thunderous, 18 Devil’s Advocate, 23 Soul, 25 Silver Lining (discussion afterwards), 28 Bow.

Other OCs My other 3 ladies, family members, my Ancients--and Violet. 1 Foster, 9 Friable, 14 Commend, 17 Destruct, 22 Fluster, 25 Silver Lining

And that’s it for now! Thanks for reading along again!

[soundsof71]

FIVE ALBUMS YOU NEED IN YOUR LIFE RIGHT NOW!!!

aka, My Top 5 of 2020, but I didn’t want to seem too retro!

Yep, I have a classic rock blog. Yep, I think that the best rock and roll in history is being made RIGHT NOW. And yep, ALL of it is being made by women. 

(Shown at top, Nova Twins by Ant Adams [x] and The Tissues by Michael Espleta [x]. I was planning to make a collage of all my faves in concert, but  not all of them were able to play in 2020. Both of these photos are pre-pandemic.)

There’s been quite a bit of movement on this list, and all five of these have spent some time at Number 1 as the year has done (gestures broadly) All This™. Anyone looking for rock and roll is going to dig any of these. 

Rocking out is just the start of it, though. Wrestling with my bipolarity and schizophrenia is tough on a good day, and there haven’t been too many of those lately. The plague has also taken its toll around me, with two family members dead and a third who’s doing better, but will likely never be all the way back. (Mask up, kids!)

I’ve written plenty about how deeply Taylor Swift and Phoebe Bridgers have moved me this year (and will do so again), but in those rare stretches where I’ve had enough spare energy to listen to music at all these days, I’ve mostly been looking for more than beautiful music. Heavy times need heavy lifting, and I find that in heavy music. 

The five albums here have all helped carry me, pointing the way toward light.

1) BULLY, SUGAREGG

Alicia Bognanno is a force of nature as a guitarist, vocalist, composer, and producer/engineer. (While working on her degree in audio engineering at MTSU, she interned with Steve Albini, who remains both a fan and an admirer). A Nashville transplant from Minnesota, she’s still a natural fit in her home on Sub Pop: as heavy as Soundgarden, as hooky as Sleater-Kinney. 

I was blown away hearing her searing honesty while working through her discoveries of her bisexuality and bipolarity (double bi!), and her triumphant roar lifts me out of my seat every time I listen.

“She sings the hell out of [these songs], her voice fraying to the point of combustion every time she launches to the top of her range. This is phenomenal music for converting anger and anxiety into unbound joy.” ~Stereogum, Album of the Week

Also, check this fantastic interview with Alicia in the New York Times talking about what she’s gone through to get here. 

TURN IT UP!

2) GANSER, LOOK AT THAT SKY

Ganser syndrome is a rare dissociative disorder characterized by nonsensical or wrong answers to questions and other dissociative symptoms such as fugue, amnesia or conversion disorder, often with visual pseudohallucinations and a decreased state of consciousness. ~Wikipedia #it me

‘Just Look At That Sky’ doesn’t presume to offer solutions; it’s an honest document of what it feels like to wade through anxiety, day by day, not a survival guide or handbook of answers none of us actually have. Whether or not you pay attention to this, Ganser are simply one of the most invigorating, exciting new bands. ~Clashmusic

I saw one very positive review compare Ganser to a cross between Fugazi and Sonic Youth, but I think they hit much, much harder than either of those. And as you can surely guess, I also deeply relate to their themes of mental illness and dissociation while trying to make it through All This™. But my god, are they TIGHT. This is a BAND.

Ganser has two fantastic lead vocalists, and on “Bad Form”, bassist/vocalist Alicia Gaines wrote the song for the voice of keyboardist/vocalist Nadia Garofolo. Alicia also wrote a FANTASTIC essay on the strains that making an album during a pandemic puts on the mental health of the entire band at talkhouse: “Writing, recording, reaching out, balancing relationships outside and within the band, I found (and still find) myself under-rested and agitated to no particular end. More than not doing enough, I was not enough.” 

(If you can’t relate to that, I can’t relate to you, tbh.)

This video also does a fantastic job of showing dissociation. TURN IT UP!

3) THE TISSUES, BLUE FILM

“Blue Film” is a ten-song shot of dagger-twisting electro-(s)punk. It’s completely addictive from the very first listen. The tour de force is “Rear Window”, an art-punk masterpiece of slashing guitars and mad caterwauling. Copious doses of jaunty poetics and social commentary reward the earlooker patient enough to untangle Kristine Nevrose’s hysterical meowing about intergalactic salt shakers and hysterectomies, but I’m too emotionally invested to look under the hood.” ~ Sputnik Music

“Rear Window” is in fact my most-played 2020 track. TURN IT UP!

4) GUM COUNTRY, SOMEWHERE

It’s not all heavy! But even when I’m looking for something light and hooky, I need a bite, and Gum Country has done it with the kind of swirly, feeedback-laden wall of sound that Lush or Yo La Tengo would make if they lived in LA. (Recent transplants to SoCal from Vancouver, I do think that the sunshine has gone straight to their heads, in the very best way.)

Indie music nerds will know guitarist/composer/singer/front woman Courtney Garvin from The Courtneys, and she really does throw up a glorious wall of sound. I adore this video too! Sweet, swinging, fun -- and yes, the drummer is playing keyboard with one hand while slapping the skins with the other! 

I mentioned earlier that all five of these albums have spent part of the year at #1 on my list -- I think that this one might have spent the longest stretch there. Like all shoegaze, even as hooky as this, the truth of these songs is revealed in VOLUME. TURN IT UP!

5) NOVA TWINS, WHO ARE THE GIRLS?

Now, THIS is heavy! Amy Lee (vocals, guitar) and Georgia South (bass) are fucking LOUD, and insanely intense. A mix of grime, hip-hop, metal, punk, and good old rock and roll, they’re a harder-hitting, more theatrical Prodigy, with a pyre of intensity that recalls the heaviest howls of Rage Against The Machine. Indeed, Nova Twins spent a good bit of 2019 playing heavy metal festivals and toured as openers for Prophets of Rage. (Tom Morello has been a fan and supporter from the beginning.)

As you may have noted in the photo at the top of this post, their musical audacity extends to visuals too: they design their own clothes, hair, and makeup, they art direct their own videos, and more. They impress the hell out of me, and I’ve been a huge fan since hearing their first singles in 2018. I’ll plant a flag and say that Georgia South in particular is the most innovative musician on any instrument in any genre right now, but they’re both absolutely monsters. 

I’m honestly not at all sure that #5 is high enough for this, but I’m absolutely certain that after this video, you’re gonna need to rest for a little. LOL

“Taxi” is the story of two gleefully and creatively violent women shaking up the local crime syndicate as they use a vintage cab for their moving murder scene. This is the movie that Robert Rodriguez wishes he was making with Sin City, if it were combined with Blade Runner and The Matrix. And gangsters. And a snake.

I’m gonna take your crown I’m gonna, I’m gonna bleed you out We demand it by the hour We devour, control, power

I’m gonna burn it down Even the, even the royals bow

So not the same kind of therapeutic work being explored on this rekkid, but you know what? Fucking shit up is therapeutic too! 

Definitely take this full screen, and for the love of fuck, TURN IT UP!

SO. Not done with the best of 2020 yet? I’m sure not! A lot of my favorite songs aren’t on albums (at least not yet), so for an unedited list of everything I’m finding, check out my Spotify list, 2020: Shuffle This List! 268 songs and counting, over 15 hours, and not finished yet. I’m still checking out everyone else’s Best of lists (including yours! Message me links to yours!!!), so will probably be adding to this for most of 2021, too. 

And for more banging tracks by women from 2020, plus a few 2019 gems that I’m still grooving to, check out my more thoroughly curated Spotify playlist Women Bangers: A Tumblr New Classics Jam. (You’ll see a couple of these tracks there!) I’m working on a YouTube playlist and an essay to properly roll that one out. I’m also still tweaking the ending, but the three dozen or so tunes there are definitely bangin’.

Tell me if you hear anything you dig here, and tell me what YOU’VE found! We’re gonna get through this together.

Yr pal, Timmy

[bluewhale52]

Little Black Book: The One You Trust (M)

Summary: There are a few names in your Little Black Book, and these seven hold a special place in your heart.  Now that you are closing that chapter in your life, you reminisce the time and experience you have had with your seven favourite men, especially with Min Yoongi, the one you trust.

Pairing: Yoongi x female reader

Rating: Explicit. NO MINORS ALLOWED!

Genre: non idol au, strangers to lovers, friends with benefits

WC: 5.1k

Warning: Yoongi thought OC was a prostitute, oral sex in public restroom, Yoongi oral king (wbk), oral m & f giving and receiving, fingering, unprotected sex (they should’ve known better, please be safe everyone), making of a sex tape

A/N: Completely unedited, as I wrote it between free times I could get, so my deepest apologies for any mistakes made. Hope you enjoy reading it! 💜

I am also reposting this because I changed my tumblr setting, so hopefully this link will work better overall.

Series Masterlist: Little Black Book

You met Yoongi at an upscale bar. It wasn’t the kind of bar you’d willingly go on your own, but it was the bar your boss chose to impress your clients with expensive wine and cigars. Business talk soon turned into something more lewd, and you soon excused yourself from the party.

You chose to sit on the bar counter, purposely choosing the far end where it was much less crowded. You scrolled mindlessly on your phone, nursing your gin and tonic, while waiting for your group to get drunker and drunker, and for when it became your responsibility to ship them home one by one  in taxis.

Yoongi approached you like a cat. Slow, quiet, gaze intense on you. You had caught him out of the corner of your eye, and you instantly liked what you saw. Lithe body clad in all black, jet black hair, feline eyes, and lips pressed into a tight line. He had a mysterious and intimidating aura about him.

He sat himself next to you, then ordered a whiskey. Seeing your half empty glass, he offered to buy you another.

“No thanks,” you shook your head. “I’m good.”

Yoongi glanced at your party. “Your group?”

You nodded. “Yup, gotta make sure they all return home safely later.”

“Ah,” Yoongi let out a dry chuckle. “I see.”

“That was a weird laugh.” You told him, narrowing your eyes.

He looked at you, his sharp features looked considerably softer. “Don’t be mad.”

“It never ends well when you start with that.” You warned him.

“You see,” Yoongi brought your gaze to a group of men and women seated not far from where your party was. “I thought you were one of them.”

One of them. The ‘them’ he referred  to  was a group of scantily clad women, throwing themselves onto the men in suits. It didn’t take a genius to know who those women were.

“Seriously? You thought this,” you pointed up and down your work suit, “equals to that?”

Yoongi looked you in the eye and knew you were teasing him. And you really were. You were intrigued by him. And you were hoping Yoongi could be a fun distraction.

“I’m sorry for assuming,” he apologized, “some men like skimpy dresses, I however, like suits. Obviously I have better taste than they are.” He smirked at the group.

You turned to face him fully, crossing your legs. You smiled inwardly when you caught his eyes dropping down to your skirt, slightly hiked up from your new sitting position. “I still feel very insulted.”

Yoongi rubbed his chin. “Let me make it up to you.” He leaned forward, and the proximity of his face to yours made your heart beat faster. He was a good looking guy, but with the cockiness in his words, his sexiness level was off the charts.

“Let me,” his voice dropped several octaves, sending a rush of warmth to your core, “eat you out. I’ll give you the best oral of your life.”

You felt your body was instantly lit on fire. Keeping your voice steady, you asked him, “What if I’m not satisfied?”

“I’ll give you my number. And you can call me whenever you need to evaluate my tongue technology skills.”

You burst out laughing. You couldn’t believe the balls on this guy.

“I can’t leave them.” You tipped your head at your group.

“I know for a fact the restroom here is clean.”

Your eyes widened. “How often do you do this here?”

Yoongi shrugged. “My first time tonight. I know the rest room is clean because I used it not ten minutes ago. So?” He hopped off his stool, and offered you his hand.

You stared at him, mouth slightly agape. Your head still couldn’t believe what was happening, but your core was leaking arousal and you knew which one was making the final decision.

You placed your hand in his, and he smirked. It annoyed you how smug he was, but the way the corner of his lip lifted, it was so sexy. You were done for.

Yoongi led you to one of the  restrooms, he told you the restrooms in the bar were all private so there was no need to worry someone would walk in on you both.

“You really thought this through, didn’t you?”

Yoongi locked the door. He directed you to lean against the wall. Your hand grabbed the sink next to you for anchor. The way he looked at you was so predatorial. His eyes were sharp and pierced  through yours. The way he licked his lips was like a starved man finally being served his favorite meal.

“I’ve been thinking about how you’d taste since I saw you sitting on that bar all alone.” He looked you up and down, undressing you with his eyes. You swallowed. Your throat was suddenly dry. All the liquid in your body was pooling in your panties, you were sure of it.

Yoongi leaned closer to you, pressing your body against the wall. His hands skimmed the hem of your pencil skirt, and looking into your eyes, he slowly inched the material up. His fingers were grazing against your pantyhose, burning your skin through it.

When your skirt was finally bunched up around your waist, you bit your lip to still a whimper, and Yoongi chuckled. His face came even closer to yours, you prepare yourself for the feel of his lips yours.

But he ducked sideways, his mouth aimed at your ear instead. “My name is Yoongi, in case you need to scream it out when you cum on my tongue.”

Your chest heaved and you let out a small moan. His hands had found the waistband of your panties and your pantyhose, but instead of pulling them down- which you were hoping he would, SOON- because you just couldn’t take it anymore- he rubbed against the skin underneath, making you squirm.

He gave you that smug smirk again. And licking his lips, he leaned down to kiss you. Only to be met by your finger. He looked at you quizzically.

“No kissing,” you chided. “You haven’t earned that yet, you smug boy.”

His eyes twinkled at your challenge. “Do I get your name, at least? I’ll spell it with my tongue.” He yanked your panties and pantyhose down. Your knees immediately went jelly, and he chuckled again at your state.

“_______.” You breathed out. He kneeled before you, then helped  you rid of your underclothes to bare yourself to him.

Yoongi hooked your leg over his shoulder. He parted your folds then licked his lips. He could see your sex throbbing, so desperate for a touch.

Keeping his eyes on you, he flicked his tongue over your clit. You gasped loudly. Liking your reaction, he flicked your nub again, but this time putting more pressure on it. He started spelling your name on your clit, as he had promised to do, the pressure from his tongue sending your body into a fiery mess and your arousal dripping into his waiting mouth.

“Did I spell it right?” Yoongi pulled back.

“Fuck yeah.” You rested your head on the wall. Your body felt heavy, and you hadn’t even cummed yet.

“Ready to scream my name, babe?”

You looked down to him. His milky white complexion almost made him look angelic, such an irony to the sinful act he was doing to you. You buried your fingers in his hair and tugged softly.

“Less talking and more doing, hmm?” You directed his head to your dripping core.

You felt the vibration from his chuckle against your dewy lips, and you instantly moaned. With his tongue flat against your sex, he started lapping at you. He was encouraged by your moan and from your grip on his hair.

He found that you liked  having his tongue poking into your hole and sliding up and down your slit. He could tell from your moans how you liked his lips wrapped around your clit  and how he slurped up your juice obscenely. He wanted to finger you, to feel your walls around his digits. But he wanted to see how far his tongue could take you. And soon he got an answer.

Your thighs started shaking, and your moans were getting louder. He tongued your entrance, swirling his organ in and around your hole, eagerly exploring it. He groaned when you ground yourself down against his mouth.

“Close, so close,” you panted, “make me cum, please.”

Yoongi gripped your thighs tighter, pressing his face further in, diving deeper into you. His tongue fucked into your cunt mercilessly, while his nose rubbed against your clit. You felt him pushing you harder and up against the wall, as if anchoring you before your free fall into ecstasy.

And the orgasm came in a mad rush, a white hot explosion that burnt your entire body as you convulsed and shook above Yoongi. He continued to tongue you, groaning and moaning at the drizzle of your nectar oozing out, only slowing down once he felt your body going lax. He massaged your thighs, kissing the skin at the junction of your limbs and your pussy tenderly, until you pushed his head away.

Yoongi looked up to you and grinned. You looked so fucked out, and only from this tongue alone.

“You didn’t scream my name, babe.” Yoongi slowly stood up, his face ghosting over yours. “I’m sad.”

“You’ve got to do it again then.” You could smell yourself on him, a mix of your sex with the alcohol he had had before. “Kiss me, Yoongi.”

He crushed his lips into yours, immediately his wicked tongue invaded your mouth. You sucked on it greedily, and smiled when he groaned. He pulled away, his eyes heavy with lust. He moved your body towards the sink, bending you over it, then he spread your legs wide. You gripped onto the porcelain, and turned your head sideways to be met by your own reflection in the mirror.

Yoongi was above you, pushing your hair away from your neck. He kissed and licked it, sending shivers down your spine. Catching your reflection, he nibbled on your earlobe before pointing his tongue into your ear canal. Satisfied at the way your face crunched and the way you moaned underneath him, he stood up and massaged your ass cheeks.

“You look so sinful, _______ .” His fingers were kneading your flesh hard. “Still dripping too, you really like my tongue that much?”

“Yes.” You sobbed your answer. Your legs were shaking again, from the position they were in but also from the anticipation. You felt Yoongi breathing near your cunt, and automatically bucked your hips, but he held you down, rendering you immobile under his grips.

Yoongi gave you a long fat lick, from the clit all the way to the spot between your pussy and your asshole. “Oh Yoongi, that feels good.”

Taking your cue, he repeated the motion; sometimes spending more time teasing your clit, sometimes sucking on your hole, drinking up your juices, sometimes he went a bit higher, testing your reaction when he licked around your puckered hole. Whatever he did, he sent you deeper and deeper into lustful pleasure.

You felt his tongue stabbing into your pussy again, and his nose deliciously close to your other hole. Your moans were encouraging him, and he moved your ass back and forth, making you rut on his mouth. Without taking his mouth off you, Yoongie shuffled up higher until his tongue reached your asshole. With your arousal thick on his tongue, he circled around the hole and gave it little kitten licks. He growled when you wailed at how good it felt, but still, you were not screaming his name yet. So he continued eating your ass, until you became a whimpering mess, He quickly moved back to your pussy, sucking on it harshly and loudly. The slurping sounds his mouth was making were so loud in the restroom, with only your moans drowning them.

“Yoongi, ah… don’t stop..” you begged.

Yoongi went to overdrive. Hearing you moaned out his name spurred him on. He latched onto your clit now, flicking and sucking it, picking up his pace as your breathing got more laboured.

“Yoon… Yoongi..” you chanted his name like a prayer, and you were getting so close to your second orgasm. Yoongi sensed it too, and he continued to work on your clit, determined he would not stop until you cried with pleasure, with his name on your mouth.

With Yoongi’s tongue on your clit, you reached your second orgasm. “Yoongi!” you screamed as heat erupted from your core to the rest of your body. It was more intense than the first one, and you grabbed onto the sink for dear life. Your body was heaving, your thighs closed tightly around Yoongi’s head, and still, his tongue did not let up. You started to drone out, Yoongi’s name still repeatedly leaving your lips.

Yoongi stood up, then pulled you up from the sink, to hug you from behind. You were still recovering from your orgasm, and he wrapped your shaking body with his arms. His lips were all over your neck, kissing you softly as you returned back to earth.

When he felt your breathing had steadied, he asked, “Are you okay?”

You scoffed weakly. “You’re all sweet now you’ve heard me scream your name?”

Yoongi smiled against your hair. “Come home with me.”

You stiffened and pushed yourself out from Yoongi’s arms. Grabbing your pantyhose and your underwear, you asked Yoongi to turn around as you put them back on. Yoongi stayed silent, still waiting for your answer.

Smoothing down your skirt, you moved to the mirror by the sink to ensure you still looked presentable, and not like someone who had just had two orgasms in a public restroom. Yoongi stared at you through the mirror. Do you want to go home with him? God yes, you thought, if he could make you feel that good with his tongue alone, you definitely wanted to find out what the rest of him could do. But, as much as you wanted a warm body next to you, you wanted to make him suffer a bit.

“Give me your number.” You fished your phone out of your purse. Yoongi recited his number.

“I’ll get in touch, okay? And thanks for the two mind blowing orgasms.”

Yoongi laughed, nodded then waved you off. You felt a little bad, so you gave him a long lingering kiss before you exited the restroom.

~~~

Yoongi didn’t have to wait long, as it turned out. Three days after your encounter, you found yourself clocking yet another overtime, and feeling frustrated as hell. You sent him a text.

== [22:15] Hey, it’s _______ . From the bar. What are you doing?

== Yoongi-Bar [22:16] Depends on what you’re doing

== Yoongi- Bar (22:16] Didn’t think you’d contact me tbh

== [22:17] Aw, sorry to keep you waiting. Was wondering if your tongue is up for some workout?

You felt rather nervous seeing three blue dots appearing and disappearing. Was that too forward? It couldn’t be, from the way he approached you that night, this had got to be up his alley.

== Yoongi-Bar [22:19] I’m still at work. But you’re welcome to come (lol). Here’s my address. Text me when you;ve arrived. I’ll come down to get you.

In less than half an hour, you arrived at his office, which turned out to be a music studio. Ten minutes after that, you were on his desk, spread-eagle, with his head between your legs. Less than five minutes after your orgasm, you returned the favor, giving him what he claimed to be the best blowjob of his life. Shortly after midnight, the two of you were eating over-seasoned ramen at a nearby pochajang.

~~~

Your arrangement with Yoongi was a comfortable one. There was definitely lust at first sight between the two of you, but the chemistry started and ended there. You were both too career-minded to even consider a relationship, and so you settled being each other’s booty calls. Funnily enough, a friendship was formed too. You both would vent about your bosses and clients while getting dressed after your mind-blowing fuck sessions, and you sent each other encouraging messages too during stressful times. And most times, those messages included photos of body parts that would send your panties wet or give him uncomfortable hard-ons.

Four months after your first encounter, Yoongi told you he was going on a world tour with his artists. He would be away for six months, jumping from timezone to timezone, so it would be difficult to arrange a time for a regular online hook-ups.

“Yoongi, I’m pretty sure you can find someone during your tour stops.”

“I don’t want random women though. I’m comfortable with you. And safe.” He nearly whined.

“I can draft up an NDA if you’re worried about them going to some tabloids or something.”

He leaned back in his chair. “No. I don’t want that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, what do you want, then?”

“Let’s make a sex tape.”

You burst out laughing at Yoongi’s suggestion, but you immediately stopped when you saw the look on his face. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he nodded thoughtfully, “watching it would help me jerk off and therefore it would be relaxing, and we wouldn’t have to constantly figure out the time difference…. “

“Well what’s in it for me?” You cut off his lame reasonings.

“The satisfaction that the country’s most successful music producer is jacking off to you.”

“Most successful, huh?”

“Babe, I’ll be at the top before you know it.” You sometimes forgot what a smug bastard he was.

You thought about it. You were not going to lie that the idea of making a sex tape with Yoongi was making you extremely excited. And the thought of him touching himself while watching himself and you, well it was fucking hot. And most importantly, you trusted him, you really did. If you were ever to document your sexual acts, Yoongi was the best person to do it with in your books.

“Our faces cannot be visible.” You set out your terms. “And we’d have to do it where no one would trace it back to your place or mine.”

Yoongi nodded.

“And you’d have to keep it somewhere safe. Not in some cloud or wherever that can be hacked.”

Yoongi tapped his hard-drive. “It’d stay with my unpublished songs.” The safest place indeed, he guarded those works with his life.

“OK, when should we do it?”

~~~

You decided to film your sex tape a week before Yoongi left. Yoongi was setting up the camera in the hotel room you had booked. Once done, he rehearsed the positions you both would be doing to ensure none of your faces would be visible.

“Fuck Yoongi, you’re really setting the mood right now! Can we just start? It’s been half an hour!” You threw yourself on the bed.

Yoongi muttered. “Fine, fine, we’ll edit it or something later. Come on babe, lie there, in the middle.”

You positioned yourself in the space where Yoongi had pointed. You were already naked, and you watched Yoongi undress. “Remember, don’t scream my name no matter how much you want to.” He warned.

“Min Yoongi, just fucking start.”

Yoongi chuckled as he pressed the record button. Then with his back to the camera, he climbed onto the bed. Spreading your legs, he made himself comfortable between them. Your hands immediately went to his hair; he loved having his hair tugged and pulled when he went down on you.

He knew what you loved too. He knew you loved it when he spread your lips apart, exposing your sex  to him. When he licked up and down your slit like he was savoring a melting ice cream cone. When he inserted a finger to tease your hole after he got you all soaked and dripping. When he inserted a second finger as he wrapped his mouth around your clit and sucked on it. When he moved his body up to lie on top of yours, to kiss you and give you a taste of yourself while his fingers were pumping you.

And when he pushed in a third finger, you moaned into his mouth, which sent him grinding his hips against yours. His free hand grabbed your breast, massaging it before his fingers pinched and tugged your nipple. He broke the kiss, and he rose up to look at you.

“So sexy babe.” He whispered to you. You closed your eyes, sighing contentedly and enjoying the pleasure he was giving you. Yoongi made his way back down, kissing and sucking both your nipples, before his head was between your legs again.

His fingers were covered in your slick; you had gotten so wet and he could feel your walls pulsating around his fingers. His mouth went back to your clit as he curled his fingers in you. You arched your back, biting your lip for you nearly moaned out his name. Yoongi felt the pressure building in you, so he licked and sucked your clit harder while his fingers were stretching your cunt.

Your grip in Yoongi’s hair was getting tighter as you were getting closer to your release. He recognised the signal, familiar with your body by now, and he sped up his movements. He groaned into your pussy, encouraging you to let go and fall into your climax.

You came, with your legs shaking and sandwiching Yoongi’s head, and your back arched, your stiff nipples pointing to the ceiling. Yoongi let go of your clit, but he kept his fingers moving in and out of you at a slower pace. Kissing your way up, he nuzzled your neck, waiting for you to come down from your high. You blinked a few times and swallowed to wet your dry throat.

“Want me to suck you?” You asked softly. Yoongi shook his head.  He pulled his fingers out and rubbed your arousal on his cock, lubricating it.

“I wanna fuck you now.” He got on his knees and grabbed your legs to push them back towards your chest.

This was his favorite position; it gave him a clear view of his cock sliding into your pussy and of your boobs bouncing as he pounded into you. You grabbed the back of your knees, opening yourself to him, and he guided his hard cock to enter your cunt.

You gasped softly as you felt the head breached your entrance. Despite his fingers having stretched you, your pussy still fought against the intrusion. Yoongi watched your face as he continued to push himself in. Your face contorted as he bottomed out in you, and he grinded on you to push himself deeper.

You moaned loudly at the pressure on your lower abdomen. It felt too full, but you whined when Yoongi pulled back. It was too empty, but not for long, as he slammed his cock back into you. He started to piston hard and fast, battering your pussy.

You pulled your knees back further until they were next to your bouncing tits. Yoongi groaned at the new angle and you sobbed over how your cunt was being impaled over and over.

Yoongi leaned further down, resting his forehead on yours, and your pants and moans were mixed together. His cock was jackhammering at a maddening pace, and his balls were slapping against your ass. The sounds of skin slapping against skin were deafening, along with the wanton slick noises of his cock plunging into your pussy like an erotic juicer.

“I want to suck you.” You declared between pants. “I want your cum in my mouth, babe.”

Yoongi growled and rammed his cock in, keeping it fully sheathed in you. You then wrapped your arms around each other, and keeping your heads down, he flipped you over so that you were on top. You pulled yourself off Yoongi’s cock, and you both whined at the action.

You left trails of kisses down Yoongi’s body, from his mouth, to his chin, his neck, chest, abdomen till you met his cock, still glossy and covered in your arousal. You positioned your body so that your ass was sticking up and your legs slightly spread to give a peak of your swollen pussy, hoping it would be smack centre in the frame of the video.

You licked the head of Yoongi’s cock like a lollipop, enjoying the taste of his precum mixed with your own juices. You stuck your tongue out to lap around the head while your hands cradled his balls. Then you licked up and down his shaft, replacing the liquid from your pussy with your own saliva.

“Oh fuck, don’t tease, babe.”

Humming, you wrapped your lips tightly around the head of his cock, and then slowly moved down to take him in. You felt his hips buck, and you immediately relaxed your throat to take as much of him as you could. When your nose bumped against the thin trail of hair on his skin, you flattened your tongue on his shaft and you started to bob your head up and down.

You glanced up to see Yoongi’s chest falling  and rising sharply. You tightened your lips around him some more and you picked up your pace, hungry and greedy for his cum, but also being even more aroused by his moans and the thought of him watching this video you were taping later on when he was away.

So, keeping one hand on his balls, your other reaches down between your legs to rub your clit. Still feeling sensitive, you moaned at your own touch against his cock. You felt him jerk again, his cock twitched in your mouth. You rubbed your clit faster, knowing the vibrations from your moans were adding an extra sensation for Yoongi.

“Babe, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Yoongi warned as he grabbed your head, pressing it down on him. You closed your eyes and took him in, you felt spurts of his cum spraying into your throat, and you rubbed and pressed on your clit relentlessly, driving yourself towards your own release.

Once Yoongi’s cock had  gone soft and your own heart beat returned to normal, you dragged yourself back up and laid yourself on top of Yoongi.

“Stay down,” he whispered, “I gotta turn off the camera.”

Yoongi stood up, still careful to ensure his face was not in the frame, and stopped the recording. He went back to bed with the camera.

“You wanna watch?”

You nodded. Yoongi pulled you up so you sat in front of him, your back to his chest. Your heart started beating fast again.

Yoongi pressed play, and you both giggled a bit in embarrassment when your naked bodies came into frame. Embarrassment soon turned into excitement, however,  and Yoongi swiftly put your legs over his, and held them open as his free hand zeroed in on your pussy.

“Wet again.” He commented as he ran his finger along your slit.

You felt a growing erection behind you. You reached back to stroke it. “Hard again.”

“What time is check out tomorrow?” He nibbled your ear.

“Ahh,” you moaned. “I requested for a late check out.” You squeezed his cock.

“Mmmh,” he groaned. “You’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow, babe.”

You sighed lustfully as you felt his finger going back into your pussy.

“Worth it.”

—-

Today

You stop the video right before Yoongi in the tape starts cumming. You haven’t watched this video in a while, and you realise that watching it doesn’t elicit any reactions now, unlike before.

You sigh wistfully. You miss Yoongi. You miss hanging out with him, as friends. He’s been back from the tour for a few months now, and he has indeed become one of- if not the most- sought after producer, just as he promised he would be.

You have stayed in touch when he was away. Mostly through texts, teasing each other with r-rates photos, and he also shared his feelings over the world tour and the wonders he experienced watching thousands of foreign fans singing along to his songs. You were proud of him.

Somehow he also remembered all your important court dates and the clients who were driving you nuts, and he made sure you got enough encouragement to push through. You were grateful for his support.

He called you a few times once he had returned, and as much as you want to see him, you have been putting him on the back burner as you navigate your relationship with your new boyfriend. You realise it is about time you break the news to Yoongi- he’s not just a mere fuck-buddy to you, he’s become your friend. He deserves to know.

You dial his number, and after a few rings, he answers.

“Hey _______ ,” he drawls, “what’s up.”

“Hey Yoon. How are you doing?”

“Busy, still in the studio.” You glance at your clock. Eleven pm. Nothing has changed. “Wanna come over?”

You smile into the phone. “Sorry Yoon, I don’t think I can come over anymore.”

“Oh.”

“I’m seeing someone, like seriously.” You try to explain.

“Well, that’s good. I’m happy for you.” He sounds sincere. “He must be someone special.”

“Thanks. He is.”

Silence falls between you. It isn’t awkward, and you can imagine him smiling softly at the other hand.

“Uh, I’d still like us to hang out though, as friends.” You offer.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

You’re smiling from ear to ear. “Great. Maybe I can introduce you to him too.”

He chortles. “Seriously? You think that’s a good idea?”

“Well you’re my friend!”

“A friend who filmed a sex tape with you.”

You purse your lips. “Well he doesn’t need to know about that. Do you still have it by the way?”

“Yeah, I don’t watch it as often as I thought I would though.” He laughs. “Tour and work sucks out all my energy.”

You laugh along with him. “What a shame.”

“I will delete it, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

You surprise yourself when you shake your head and reject his suggestion hastily. “No, no, you don’t have to.”

“______, are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you answer with conviction. “Consider it as a fuck buddy parting gift.”

Yoongi laughs again. “Kinda feel you trust me too much, babe.”

“Ah Yoongi-ah,” you giggle. “I’ve always trusted you, don’t you know that?”

Originally published 20012021

[thrillridesz]

the replacement game ▫ haknyeon

➳ pairing: boyfriend!haknyeon x gender neutral reader ➳ genre: fluff, slight angst ➳ warnings/rating: PG ➳ word count: 2.6k ➳ requested?: yes

a/n: i originally got this request as a timestamp but i changed it to a oneshot instead because they went on longer than i initially envisioned! also unedited (for now). definitely not my best work since i wrote this in one night >< so please excuse the slipshod quality.

“Hey, Hak!”

Haknyeon barely had time to remove his shoes as he stepped into the apartment the both of you shared along with your husky, Frosty. As Frosty leaped onto his hind legs and pawed excitedly at his sweater, you stood smiling with your hands behind your back. There was a sense of anticipation that simply radiated off you and the smile told him that something was up. Ruffling Frosty’s head affectionately, he scrunched up his nose.

“Hey… Y/n. What’s up?”

At his question, your smile only grew brighter. There was a glint in your eyes as you replied, “Guess what I bought today?”

As he slipped out of his shoes, Haknyeon raised an eyebrow quizzically.

“Hm… A new book?”

“Nice try, but nope!” You shook your head and he chuckled.

“What could it possibly be if not a new book? That’s what you always ever buy.”

“Here it is!”

Haknyeon lifted his head as you brandished a small potted plant in your hands. It was a tiny mere seedling with only a couple of miniature green leaves sprouting from a single stem planted in a bed of dark soil in a brown ceramic pot. As you held onto it, you couldn’t stop beaming.

“Isn’t it pretty? It’s so cute too, don’t you think?” You said, admiring the tiny plant in your hands.

Haknyeon’s smile dropped as he looked at it, feeling a heavy sense of dread in his heart. Not again…

“Babe, don’t you remember the last time we bought a plant?” He asked hesitantly, still holding onto Frosty who was now licking his hand.

You pouted, feeling the heat rise up to your cheeks and face as guilt set in. Your eyes drifted to the window by the living room and the tiny trinkets that laid out on the window sill, chewing your lower lip as you stared at the oddly empty spot at the corner.

“I really liked it though…” You trailed off, your finger grazing over one of the tiny leaves on the plant and Haknyeon’s expression softened.

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, of course we can have a plant but do you know what it takes to take care of one?” He placed his hand warmly over yours as the two of you plopped down onto the couch, as if afraid that you would accidentally drop the plant. Fortunately, you were too preoccupied with the plant in your hands and your own thoughts to notice the meaning behind what he did.

“I’ve been reading up, Hak. I really wanna try caring for a plant again, you know how much I love plants.” You said sadly.

“I don’t doubt that,” He replied reassuringly though there was an uncomfortable look in his expression and if you were just a little more observant, you would have noticed the stiffness in his tone. There was a weird mood in the room, something both of you sensed except for Frosty, who wagged his tail, oblivious to what was going on as he settled himself against Haknyeon’s leg, making himself cozy. “It’s just that that was what you said the last time too. We didn’t even last a month.” He continued, reminiscing the old sunflower plant the both of you used to take care of or rather tried to take care of.

Needless to say, caring for the sunflower plant had been a disaster. As someone who knew next to nothing about caring for a plant, you either gave it too much water or too little water or sometimes even completely forgetting to give water at all. Even after reading up on gardening, there was once when you had purchased the wrong minerals and very nearly killed the sunflower plant but thankfully, Haknyeon had been there to help. There were also many instances when you simply forgot to close the window and the afternoon breeze would send the plant tottering dangerously over the edge. Sometimes when Frosty was feeling a little playful, it was also in danger of simply being knocked down.

Suddenly, you set the potted plant down on to the coffee table with a loud thud, startling him and in turn causing Frosty to scramble onto his legs, a curious look on that furry face. With a light whimper, he hid his snout under Haknyeon’s hand who held onto him as he stared at you in surprise.

“I’ll do it right this time. Just watch!” You declared, determination in your eyes as you placed your hands on your hips. It was almost comical to see you like this, talking to no one in particular with such a domineering stance towards a plant of all things. Haknyeon would have laughed out loud but instead, he could only sighed internally.

“Here we go again…”

“Did you water it?”

It had been about a couple of days since your new little house plant had joined the family and you smiled proudly as you turned to Haknyeon who stood by the door.

“Yup! Thought I would forget?”

Haknyeon shrugged nonchalantly, shooting you a doubtful smile which you didn’t quite catch.

“Just thought I’d ask.”

As he shuffled into the living room, Haknyeon couldn’t help but keep staring at the plant from a distance. On one hand, there was this inner voice telling him to check on it but on another, we wanted to trust that you knew what you were doing and leave you to your own devices. Yet the temptation was too strong and he relented.

Staring into the pot, he tried not to sigh out loud. There was way too much water in the soil, almost diluting the minerals added and very nearly drowning the tiny seedling. From the looks of it, it was already halfway there. Somehow, the leaves looked almost limp and its colour was a light, sickly green rather than a healthy, dark, vibrant emerald colour.

He knew that this would happen but in his heart, he had wished it wouldn’t. Knowing how much effort you do actually put into reading up on how to care for small plants, he had hoped you’d succeed for once. After all, Haknyeon hated to see you upset. Whenever he saw you in a sad mood, it felt like his heart was falling and it would bug him for the longest time. He cared too deeply to see you upset.

Fiddling with his fingers, he pondered over what to do. It had been only a few days since you got this plant and it would absolutely devastate you to know that you had failed once again. The thought of you being down was something Haknyeon abhorred and taking a deep breath, he called out.

“Hey, y/n! I’ll be going down to the grocer’s. Do you need anything?”

“No, I’ll be fine! I have work to do!” You called back out from your room.

“Do you…” He stared at the plant. “Do you mind if I take the plant with me?”

At that, you poked your head out from the room, frowning.

“And why on earth would you do that?”

Shit. He was not forward thinking with this.

“I, um…”

From across the street, he noticed the apartment in the block had a birdcage with a large colourful parrot in it. It flew around the tiny confined space, troubling its terrified owner who was timidly tossing it some nuts from afar, clearly afraid of his own pet.

Without a second thought, he said, “I’m going to buy a mini terrarium for the plant! I wanted to take it just to y’know… Figure out how big of a terrarium would fit it.”

“Really? What sort?” You asked, suddenly interested.

“Um… What do you think would be good?”

“Hm…” Tapping your chin thoughtfully, you turned to peer over at the plant and Haknyeon couldn’t help but wonder how on earth you didn’t already notice that the plant was probably already dead. “A glass sphere?”

“A glass sphere?”

“Yeah! I’ve seen a lot of those on sites like Pinterest and Tumblr. We could go for that!” You grinned.

Rest in peace, wallet.

“Alright.” Haknyeon said, forcing a smile which you returned and shot him a thumbs up before disappearing into your room. “Thank you!”

“You’re… Welcome.” He mumbled softly more to himself than to you as Frosty poked his snout against his leg, clearly in another of his playful moods but Haknyeon had no mood to play. He already didn’t have a lot of money since it had been some time since he had received his pay and payday wouldn’t come round for another week. Whipping out his wallet, he felt his heart clench painfully at the lack of bills and pennies. Looks like he would have to go hungry for lunch for the next week. He swallowed thickly, looking down at Frosty who was now quiet, having sensed that something was wrong.

“Nope, it’s just my wallet. I’ll be fine, Frosty.” He said, rubbing the husky’s head gently.

If it meant that you would be happy, he was willing to do anything… even if it meant sacrificing his wallet.

Over the next few weeks, it felt like a game of how quickly he was able to find a replacement whenever you slipped up or when something happened without your knowledge. It was the replacement game. The second time he had to find a replacement happened when Frosty accidentally went a little overboard and nudged the plant out an open window. The loud crash on the streets below earned Haknyeon a severe warning and whack on the head by the old lady who had very nearly missed it. Thankfully, you weren’t home so he had time to actually find a nice one to buy instead of hastily picking one. The third time it happened, you had simply forgotten to water it and though Haknyeon himself had tried to revive the plant, it was already well and truly gone.

All this while, his wallet definitely wasn’t having a lot of fun, much less himself. Many times, he considered simply telling you the truth but whenever he saw the look of joy and pride on your face, he just couldn’t bring himself to. It seemed as if Frosty got the message along the way when he would distract you and allow Haknyeon time to salvage what needed to be salvaged. Until one day…

“Hey babe, I’m home!” Haknyeon called out, dropping his bag onto the kitchen countertop and unbuttoning a few of the shirt buttons for more air. Dang, that shirt was stuffy. Why couldn’t workplaces just allow people to wear whatever they wanted? It would make life so much easier and more comfortable. As he poured himself a glass of water, he wondered briefly if he should bring it up as a suggestion to management. It could boost productivity.

Downing the glass like a man starved of water, he didn’t even realise it when Frosty tugged at his shirt with his teeth, the look in his eyes devoid of the usual mirth and playfulness.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Haknyeon knelt down, rubbing his cheeks. “You hungry? Is that it?”

“He’s not hungry.”

Turning around, Haknyeon shot you a smile but you did nothing to return it.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were home!”

“The computer system at work shut down unexpectedly so we got to go home early.” You replied curtly, the look on your face grim. This time, the dry tone of your voice caught his attention. He frowned, confused.

“Are you okay?”

Subconsciously, Haknyeon casted the window a sideway glance and almost heaved an audible sigh of relief at the still intact plant and terrarium. Big mistake.

“If you’re wondering, the answer is no. No, I haven’t killed the plant for the 4th time.” You said. Haknyeon stiffened, the expression on his face remaining unchanged but you could tell that he was gripping hard at the kitchen countertop from the looks of his white knuckles. Clenching his jaw, he took a deep breath.

“How did you know?” He asked quietly.

The look you gave him was so full of disappointment as you drew out the numerous receipts you had in your hand.

“They were all in your drawer. I found them while trying to find a pen.”

Before he could even say anything, you continued.

“Why would you do this?”

It felt like someone had stuck a knife in his heart and twisted the blade when he saw the look on your face. There was just so much sadness, confusion and hurt in your eyes that it felt painful to even look into them. He wanted so badly to kick himself right there and then. It turns out all this hiding and deception had only made things so much worse. He had not only lied to you but he also gave you the false sense of happiness and pride and even displayed the extent of his distrust in you by not even believing in you in the first place. Haknyeon never gave you a chance to even learn. Instead of helping you, he had chosen entirely to keep you in the dark about what was really happening.

“Do you not trust me? I get that I may not have the greenest thumbs but instead of hiding this… Replacement game you’re playing from me, you could’ve helped me, Hak. You could’ve simply reminded me or told me.” Your voice wobbled slightly at the end. “I saw your bank statement too. Why are you doing this when you clearly lack the funds to? Is it so difficult to tell me things these days?”

There was a moment of silence when neither of you said or did anything, not even Frosty who was usually so hyperactive.

“Tell me, Hak. Please.”

“I didn’t want you to get upset.” He said finally, keeping his head down.

Your eyes widened, clearly not expecting to hear that from him.

“What…?”

“I couldn’t bear to see you upset, y/n. I couldn’t, I just couldn’t. I knew you studied really hard and did so much work to make sure you did everything right so I… I don’t know. I didn’t want to see you upset.” Haknyeon said, his voice firm but getting shakier by the second. “I love you too much to see you upset.”

“Oh, Hakkie.” You whispered, coming by his side and holding his hand in yours.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I should have trusted you more. I shouldn’t have done what I did. I hope you don’t hold it against me.” He said softly, not lifting his gaze. “I would have given everything I could to make sure that you didn’t feel sad when things don’t work out. Nothing matters more to me than seeing you happy, y/n but I see now that all I’ve done is the opposite.”

Hearing him say all of that was all very shocking and so deeply heart wrenching. How could someone be so… Good? The anger in you had all but dissipated and you reached out and slipped your hands up to his face, bringing him up to meet your eyes. Those dark eyes of his were glassy with tears that threatened to fall and you wanted so desperately to make it all better.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Hak. I didn’t realise that at all, I- I...” You stammered, unable to get your words out from all the emotions that bubble up in you. “Please don’t.”

Before he could react, you had wrapped him in a tight hug, your face buried in his shoulder. At first, he simply stood unmoving before he slowly hugged you back, melting into the hug.

“Let’s just be real with each other from now on.” You whispered.

“... Okay.” He replied softly.

“No hiding, no lies… Just trust and honesty.”

“Okay.” He simply said without hesitation.

It felt like ages before the two of you parted and as you looked him in the eyes, a warm feeling began to spread across your chest. It is getting warmer and cosier by the second and as he squeezed your hand lightly in his, you felt a jolt of electricity run through you and a smile tugged at your lips which only grew wider as he did too. This must be what true love feels like. 

[ncssian]

the perfect male

A/N: this is a verrry messy, unedited drabble that i wanted to post just for fun. i really like this scene concept and am planning to rework a much better version of it into a full-length fic later, but these are just my initial thoughts/ideas.

Description: Cassian learns who Nesta’s perfect guy is, and it’s not him. Crossover AU.

***

Cool air drifted off the Sidra, entangling with Nesta's scent and the sound of her laugh as she and Cassian made their way down the riverwalk.

"And you?" Cassian nudged Nesta with an elbow. "What's your idea of the perfect male?"

Nesta leaned into Cassian as they walked, her arm tucked into the crook of his elbow. "Oh, I already have the perfect male."

Cassian raised his brows in question and surprise.

"Hunt Athalar," she said simply.

Cassian almost choked on river air. "The captain of the 33rd Legion? The half-angel half-demon with the--?" He wiggled his fingers to indicate lightning.

"That's him."

"Doesn't he kind of look like..." Cassian trailed off.


Nesta narrowed her eyes at Cassian. "Don't flatter yourself. I knew Hunt years before I even met you. He's always been my ideal backup male."

"Backup male?"

"You know," Nesta trailed. "The person you turn to when people in your life inevitably let you down. I always keep one on speed-dial; they're cheaper than ice cream and therapy."

Now Cassian was really intrigued. "And how does Hunt Athalar qualify to be the perfect backup male?"

"For starters, the perfect male is always there for me. He provides companionship and understanding and good sex during times of crisis, and I provide the same for him when necessary. He's always on my side, which is never difficult because he isn't a part of my usual social circle. There's no chance of him having loyalties or duties that conflict with his loyalty to me."

Cassian could visualize her checklist of needs in his mind, and he could see even clearer how he didn't meet any of those needs. He swallowed. "And you thought the son of the Star-Eater was the best choice of backup male?"

Nesta shrugged, as if Athalar's heritage meant nothing to her. "He understands me." She nudged Cassian's bicep with her head at that. "You know how hard it is for me to find people that can do that." Something in Cassian twisted at that, because yes, he did know. It was visible every time she blended into the background at a dinner party or family event.

He tried to come up with a comment that didn't reveal his utter incompetency. "That sounds...hard to top."

"It's not," she said, refusing to look at him as they walked. Her voice had hardened imperceptibly. "People just don't want to bother to put in the effort. That's why I need a backup male in the first place." She might as well have stabbed him in the chest and walked away. Even then, her logic wasn't clicking with him.

"If Athalar's so perfect, then why is he a backup?" Cassian said. "Why don't you just make him your boyfriend?"

Nesta's answering smile told him there were some things that he would never understand. "He's not it for me. Don't you hate it when that happens, when a perfect person comes along and you just know it can never work out with them?"

Cassian watched Nesta closely from the corner of his eye, how she walked and talked as if she was completely oblivious to how her words shook his earth. "I think I'm beginning to understand," he said, so low she must have missed it.

Cassian didn't know what to do with everything Nesta had handed to him. All this time, he'd thought he wasn't worthy of her because he was a bastard. In reality, he wasn't worthy of her because he was a dick. Nesta wanted--needed-- an ally, and he couldn't even provide her with that basic necessity. Not while he still worked for Rhys and Feyre.

They reached the door to her apartment building and slowed to a stop. Nesta's arm slid from Cassian's, the act unintentionally fanning the flames of his anger. Not at her, never her, but at himself. How was he incapable of providing her with something so simple as friendship and understanding?

"Cassian?" The sound of his name from her voice snapped him out of his head. "Are you alright?" Her face was as withdrawn as ever, but Cassian had watched her for long enough to notice the furrow of concern in her brow.

Cassian blinked. "Just thinking," he said. He needed to try--for her if not for himself. Not that Nesta needed him, clearly.

"Um," he tried to collect his scattered thoughts into a comprehensive sentence, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. Nesta only raised an eyebrow as she patiently waited for him to pull his shit together.

"Crescent City is pretty far from here," he finally said, dumbly.

"I'm aware," Nesta said.

"So if you ever need ice cream and therapy in this city..." He felt stupider by the second. "I'm free."

He rushed on before Nesta could smile politely and shoot him down. "I know I don't even meet, like, half the things on your list, but it doesn't have to be like that. I can--I can try...to be whatever you need," he finished weakly.

Nesta was frowning, now, in that way she did whenever she was taken aback. Cassian wished desperately he could read her beyond that.

It was quiet between them for the longest time. Slowly, very slowly, Nesta nodded. "I'll think about it," she said carefully. She didn't sound like she was lying to be nice.

Cassian wanted to tremble with relief. All she'd said was that she would consider confiding in him more often. "Okay," he breathed. "Okay."

"So...next time I date a shitty guy or get into a fight with my sister..."

"I'll be there," Cassian finished. "I'll be there." He couldn't stop repeating himself.

Nesta seemed to think about it a second longer. Finally, she reached for the building door.

"It's a difficult job," she warned him as she pulled the door open. "No benefits, and you'll have to work overtime to prove yourself."

"Good." He wasn't about to half-ass the once in a lifetime opportunity he'd just been given.

Nesta nodded one final time, and just before she slipped through the door and went inside, Cassian thought he saw the hint of a confused smile on her lips.

a/n: i wrote this at 2 am with my eyes half-closed sorry. i saw a theory on tumblr that said hunt’s father is the star-eater and it’s pretty much canon for me at this point. also credit to those who recommended hunt be nesta’s ‘backup’ guy, b/c that was interesting to write. 

tagging: @sjm-things @ladywitchling @nikolai-lantsovs-bitch @thewayshedreamed, tell me if u wanna be removed at any time pls

[writingsofwerewolves]

My posted writings so far

The First Life of Talia MacDonald: A vampire (and eventually werewolf) romance featuring Damian and Vikram. Still working on this one. Contains sex scenes.

The Alpha's Mate: An ‘enemies’ to lovers romance between a werewolf hunter and a werewolf. I intend to continue this story. Featuring Damian and Vikram.

My ‘for fun’ series of things I wrote that were never meant to see the light of day that I usually reread or write just for my own enjoyment when I need a pick-me-up. Usually featuring Damian and Vikram.

The Beast You Made Of Me: A story of a werewolf trapped in werewolf form, helping to care for an abused and disabled person as they bond. Werewolf sex scenes! Featuring Vikram.

Just For Science: An alien gets his hands on a human to study. Some ‘probing’ takes place. Featuring my yautja character, Rh’ex.

Rh’ex during a zombie apocalypse: A short unfinished thing featuring Rh’ex.

Werewolf Bodyguard: a story of a troublesome princess that always tries to escape and her bodyguard trying to keep her under control. It was based on a prompt from tumblr. Featuring Vikram but under the named Kaleb.

The Demon Possession: a desperate traveler falls prey to a demon’s trick and winds up possessed. But the possession doesn’t go as the demon intended so the pair must go on an adventure to fix everything. This is probably the only story here that actually has a legit ending. It’s complete. Features Cyrus, before he starts using that name.

The Strange Life of Talia MacDonald: Talia’s had a rough life. When vampires start getting involved, it gets worse. I still have more chapters written that I can post of this if there’s interest. It features Damian and Vikram.

The Flesh Eater: a short thing I had in my head about a demon that’s soulmates with a human.

Eyes On Fire: being a vampire sucks. But maybe a hot werewolf friend can make it better? Features Vikram.

ISIWP (the Incomprehensible Self Indulgent Werewolf Porn): Featuring Vikram, some horribly written sex scenes, and lots of nonsense I wrote when I was depressed and avoiding thinking and sleeping.

Original Draft of The Alpha’s Mate: I wrote this before The Alpha’s Mate and while I ended up rewriting it, I still like this original version. Featuring Vikram.

Instincts: Sex scenes! Werewolf sex scenes! Featuring Vikram.

5k words of unedited werewolf nonsense: just something I wrote in one day for fun. Featuring Vikram.