#its so [CLENCHES FISTS] YANNO

[stevebabey]

i have.... finished magnus archives. yes i have been on and off sobbing throughout the day why do u ask

[typingatlightspeed]

TF2 Fanfic - The Extreme Path Chapter 4

Spy witnesses the Makai family's threats firsthand, and with no doubt left in his mind, has to reconcile with the fact that a promise made to him almost forty years ago was being broken. Yoko is horrified about this revelation of Spy's past, and poor Sniper, Scout, and Kazuhiro are caught in the crossfire. Good news, however, the team's final member has arrived, and man oh man is he immediately gunning for the team's gunman.

Ao3 Link! Part of Monstrous Intent!

I promise I didn't mean to rip off a major plot point of Ryu Ga Gotoku/Yakuza 1, it just ended up happening that way! o-o Also warning for domestic violence, as well as murder but this is ostensibly a TF2 fic so murder is part and parcel yanno?

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Yamamori Ryokan, Izumisano, Osaka, Japan. June 6th, 1970.

The crash of splintering wood woke Spy with a start. He heard men yelling, and sprung to his feet. Snatching his balisong and watch from beneath his pillow, he tore out of his room in his underwear, skidding barefoot to a halt in the lobby, where Yoko stood. Her hands were clenched into fists as she watched Kazuhiro charge outside with a wooden practice katana clutched in one hand.

"Yo-chan?"

"They're back again. Those Makai family assholes."

Spy made to follow Kazuhiro out, but was stopped by Yoko's hand on his bare shoulder. He turned to see her holding one of the yukata from the rack behind her, and looked down at himself. "Ah, yes. Merci."

A loud crack filled the air as wood shattered and broke, creaking as the sign for the ryokan toppled over, its supports broken yet again. A burly hibagon, an ape-man covered in shaggy black fur and wearing a suit with an ornate lapel pin, hefted his sledgehammer up over his shoulder, laughing at the destruction he'd wrought.

"Oi, Aniki! Looks like you got the bird-man's attention," called a man with white cat ears and a long black and white tail that split into a Y-shape, standing beside a car that had been haphazardly parked halfway up the walkway from the road. He was a nekomata, and he too wore a suit with a lapel pin, and a gold chain around his neck, shown by the open buttons of his garish purple shirt.

"Looks like I did," the hibagon replied with a chuckle, turning to stare down Kazuhiro as he approached, practice sword in hand. He widened his eyes. "Decide to pay up yet?"

"Get off of our property, or I will throw you off," Kazuhiro threatened, bringing the sword to bear.

The hibagon bristled. "See, that worked last time: your little samurai routine. But this time you're a little outnumbered." He motioned to the car, and two more thugs, both human in appearance, climbed out, grinning. They were dressed similarly, all glaring with wide eyes, looking wild and eager to fight.

Kazuhiro held his ground, his face stern.

"You got two options, tengu. Either you pay up, or we beat your ass and burn this cute little onsen to the ground while we carry off your woman." He dropped the sledgehammer down to just above the ground, ready to bring it to bear.

"You'd have to fight her first. May as well cut your own throat and save yourself the trouble," Kazuhiro countered with a smirk. "I'm out here to be the nice one."

"Don't think the whole nice approach is workin' for you, bud."

A knife pressed to the hibagon's throat, and in a puff of smoke, Spy decloaked, wearing the shape of his Frenchman self. "Oh good. I hate the nice approach."

"Aniki!" the nekomata yelled, holding back from charging forward as Spy forced the hibagon to turn, giving him line of sight to everyone involved. He snarled, fangs on display. "Who the fuck is this white boy?"

"I'm the guardian kami of this spring," Spy snorted, holding the knife closer, cutting through a chunk of fur to press the blade to skin. His eyes flickered to the pin on the thug's lapel, taking in its details before returning to the nekomata.

"Real fuckin' funny," the hibagon grunted. He dropped the sledgehammer and looked to Kazuhiro. "You think hirin' muscle's gonna help you? We know what you are, and some hired goon ain't gonna save you from your customers findin' out. You got 'til the end of the week to pay up, or Captain Nagoshi's making sure all of Osaka knows what you two are."

"You're makin' an awful lotta threats for a guy with a knife to his throat," Spy hummed, smirking.

"You gonna murder me on the doorstep of this ryokan? Sure that'd be great for business."

"Nobody would miss a lowlife chinpira like you."

"You talk a lotta shit for a foreigner."

"You talk a lotta shit for a dead man."

"Stop!" Kazuhiro called, looking pleadingly to Spy. "If we kill the messenger, do you think they're going to hold back on exposing us?"

Spy scoffed and pulled the knife away, shoving the yakuza thug away with an annoyed, "Tch."

Rubbing at his throat, the hibagon backed up to the car, nodding to his companions, who all climbed back in. "Friday," he growled. He stalked over and got in, slamming the door loudly. The car backed sloppily out onto the road, knocking over a jizo statue on its way and crushing a lantern, and sped off down the mountain road from whence it came.

Spy sagged. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Kazuhiro replied, sighing as he beheld his re-broken sign. "They would've beaten me bloody if you hadn't showed up."

"I'm surprised Yoko wasn't out here backin' you up."

"I don't want her dealing with them if I can avoid it," Kazuhiro reasoned. "Unlike you, she wouldn't have moved the knife."

Spy flipped his knife closed and shifted back to Shigeru. "That's true. Either way, I got a look at those lapel pins. No mistake, that really is the Makai family. Which doesn't make any sense."

"Why not?"

"Because Patriarch Ugaki swore an oath to me that the family would never touch the Morimoto foxes."

*

Sōemonchō, Chūō-ku, Osaka, Japan. April, 1932.

"Han!"

"Are you serious? This is fuckin' bullshit!"

The clacking of gambling tokens and clattering of dice filled the smoky room of the little gambling hall. Tucked away in a side alley, it was a large, mostly unadorned room with old-fashioned decor, a wall with a sliding door separating it from the back of the house. Upon the tatami floor sat a host of gamblers sitting across from a few dealers running cho-han, shaking dice in small baskets and upending them in games of guessing evens or odds. An angry young man dressed in an ill-fitting suit jumped to his feet, pointing accusatorily at the dealer in front of him.

"This game's rigged! No way it's han five rolls in a row!"

"Sir, please be seated if you wish to continue to play," the dealer—a pretty young woman dressed in a kimono—asked, lifting the dice between her fingers and dropping them back into the basket.

"The fuck you mean 'sit down'?" the young man barked, leaning in angrily, towering over the seated woman. "I want back all the money you fucks stole from me!"

"Sir." The dealer looked past him and flashed a hand sign, then looked back up to him. "Sir, I understand losing is difficult, but I must ask that you calm down. You're making a scene."

"Makin' a scene?! Good! You're straight-up fleecin' me!" Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a pocket knife, flipping it open to a chorus of gasps and the thumping scramble of other patrons moving away. "I oughtta cut your tongue out for takin' to me like that!"

The dealer stared at him, looking exhausted.

The wet thump of impact interrupted any further threats, as the man fell to the ground in a heap, his knife clattering to the floor beside him. Behind him, Shigeru tucked his blackjack back into his pocket and smoothed out his jacket, which bore a lapel pin showing the Makai family crest. He took a drag from his cigarette. "Dipshit."

"Thank you, Morimoto-han," the dealer said, bowing.

"Don't worry 'bout it," Shigeru replied, stepping over the unconscious patron and past the line of dealers. He slid open a door behind them and poked his head into a room with a low table, where a group of men in finely-tailored suits were seated on the floor around it, sharing sake and chatting. "Captain Ugaki?"

A slim man with a wide nose, rounded eyes, and close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair lifted his head, smiling slightly at the sight of him. "What's up, Morimoto-chan?"

"Guy out here makin' a ruckus, drew a knife. He's takin' a nap right now. Should I take the trash out or should I make sure it's properly disposed of?"

Captain Ugaki shook his head with a laugh. "Just toss the asshole in the street. Take his wallet as a warning shot. If he decides to start shit with the family again we'll put the boots to him."

"On it, Oyaji," Shigeru said, slipping out and sliding the door closed.

*

Yamamori Ryokan, Izumisano, Osaka, Japan. June 6th, 1970.

The sliding glass doors to the ryokan were locked. A pair of sliding wooden doors were locked in front of them. The broken sign still laid in the rock garden beside the path. In the lobby, the phone rang unanswered.

On the second floor of the main building, in Yoko and Kazuhiro's small apartment, the team sat on the living room floor around a short, square table. A sake cup rested in front of each person, a small jug at the middle of the table.

Yoko stared at Spy, not breaking eye-contact as she slugged back her sake and set the cup on the table, clacking it loudly.

Spy picked up the jug and refilled her cup.

Yoko's brows furrowed, and drank her cup again, clacking it down a little louder.

"Yo-chan..." Kazuhiro started, but was silenced as Yoko held a finger up to shush him, not sparing him a glance. She kept her eyes firmly on her brother.

Spy refilled her cup again. Yoko drank it in a single gulp and slammed the cup onto the table, rattling the other cups, making Scout, Sniper, and Kazuhiro jump.

"So tell me, Shigeru. What the fuck were you thinking?" Yoko barked, tails lashing in annoyance.

"It was after I got into espionage, but before the war. The guy I was working for had been blackmailed by someone on the extreme path—"

"Yakuza."

"What?"

"Don't use their words for themselves. They're fucking yakuza."

"You're awful venemous about them considering how much crime you've done yourself over the years."

"There's a difference."

Spy scoffed and continued. "The blackmailer was in the Makai family. Guy name of Daito Shigeki. So I came back over to get into the family to get close to him."

"Using your real name?"

"Not at first. I was goin' by Sawamura Kazuma at the time. Turned out Daito wasn't just blackmailin' foreigners who did business with the clan. He was a mole in the family, workin' on a plan to assassinate the family captain, Ugaki Goro. My employer just wanted Daito dead. The family, once I gave them a small mountain of evidence I'd gathered over a year, made that happen. But to prove all of that to Captain Ugaki, I had to play my hand about bein' undercover. Captain was so grateful anyway he made us sworn brothers, and asked if I'd stay in the family." Spy shrugged. "The Makai family targeted youkai businesses and interests, both to keep 'em as turf and to keep human families from causin' 'em trouble. The protection money was in exchange for actual protection, for the most part. Still extortion, but they at least walked the talk. So I stuck around, 'cause I knew bein' a kitsune named Morimoto on their payroll might put other kitsune named Morimoto on their radar. So if I were in the family, I could keep 'em away from anythin' you and Ken-chan might be up to."

"Don't play like you did this for our sakes."

"At first? No. Once I realized I'd fucked up royally by being exposed? Believe what you want, but I'm tellin' you that's why I stuck around."

"How long were you with them?"

"Two more years. Then it all went to shit. The patriarch, Kanda, was dating Captain Ugaki's sister, Rie. Always on the bubble of not treatin' her good, but nobody saw nothin', and even if we did, what could we say to the patriarch? But we all got the feelin'. He didn't put much respect in his mouth when he talked to her. Well one day they had it out, and he ended up hittin' her somewhere you could see it. And her brother found out."

"What'd he do?"

*

Sōemonchō, Chūō-ku, Osaka, Japan. April, 1934.

Everyone had heard the screaming. By the time Shigeru had arrived, he could hear police sirens in the distance. Drawing himself up, he charged up the stairs to Ugaki Rie's apartment, his guts drawn tight.

The door was ajar, the frame broken by forced entry. Splinters of wood were everywhere. He could hear a woman sobbing. Steeling himself, Shigeru pushed the door slowly open and crept inside into the darkened, single-room apartment.

Moonlight shone in from the balcony, reflecting off of a darkened puddle on the wood floor, silver-white on shadow-blackened crimson. A woman, Ugaki's sister Rie, was curled up against the side of the kitchen cabinets, holding her knees to her chest and crying. Her skirt was ripped, her hair a mess. In the middle of the room lay the body of Patriarch Kanda, dead. Deep, ragged gouges covered his body, slashed by claw and fang, his throat torn open. Hunched over him, a man-shaped otter youkai—a kawauso—knelt, blood dripping from his claws and soaking his suit.

Shigeru stopped, choked on his own breath, barely croaking out, "Captain..."

The kawauso turned, blood splattering his face, and slowly shifted into human shape, agony creasing his tear-stained features. "Morimoto-chan..."

"Captain, what—"

"I... I couldn't stop myself. When Rie called me, said he was yellin', gettin' violent, that he hit her before and she was afraid he was gonna do worse this time..." Ugaki shook his head, looking down at his hands, "I snapped. I ran the whole way here, and ripped his fuckin' throat out. I... I'm sorry, kyodai."

The sirens grew closer. "Sorry?"

"That you're gonna have to deal with a patriarch like Lieutenant Nagoshi. If the family don't just dissolve."

"The family ain't dissolvin'; what're you talkin' about?"

"The patriarch's dead. Ain't no way I ain't goin' down for this, Morimoto-chan. If the cops don't get me, the clan will. Patricide..."

Shigeru knelt beside Ugaki and looked down to the lifeless body of Kanda on the floor. "No." He shook his head. This was his sworn brother, defending his family. He'd have done the same or worse if Yoko had been in Rie's position. Panic welled in his heart as he realized the decision he'd already made, with absolutely zero deliberation. He slammed his hands down into the puddle of blood and began to wipe it on himself, soaking his hands in it, smearing it on his arms, his face, his suit.

"What the hell are you doin'?" Ugaki barked, grabbing hold of Shigeru's wrists.

"My duty as your sworn brother. The family needs you. Rie-san needs you. And you know there's not a prison that can hold me. You need to run, before the cops get here. Get to the river, ditch those clothes. Lay low, and get back to the family." He dug in his jacket pocket, pulling out a large pearl, about the size of a tennis ball. It glowed softly, subtly, barely lighting the hand that held it, and he handed it to Ugaki. "Hide this somewhere I'll expect. I'll need it once I break out."

"Your hoshitama? Shigeru, no..."

"Look, I discovered my sworn brother's sister was bein' brutalized, and I went to take matters into my own hands before the family even found out. I—I'm a new swear-up. Kasuga Akira." Shigeru shifted his face to something generic, an everyman who didn't stand out, and looked to Rie. "Rie-san? Do you hear that? My name is Kasuga, and I came here to defend you! Your brother had no idea!"

Sniffling, Rie nodded, eyes blackened and swollen nearly shut, her nose bloody. Shigeru looked back down to Kanda's corpse and snarled. Being mauled was too easy a death for what he deserved.

Ugaki nodded, clearly unable to change his subordinate's mind. "Fine, okay. I'll get you an identity, a-and I'll lawyer you up and make sure you don't hang. But you better get outta prison like you said."

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, a sad smile crossed Shigeru's lips. "Just promise me somethin'."

"Anythin'."

Shigeru leveled a severe glare at his captain. "The family never touches the Morimoto foxes."

Ugaki took Shigeru's hand and clasped it tightly. "I swear you this oath. Nobody touches the Morimoto foxes."

Satisfied, Shigeru gave his hand a squeeze, then released him. "Thank you, kyodai. Now go! Get outta here before the cops show up!" With a wave of his hand and a flash of magic, he pushed an invisibility spell onto his captain and shoved him away, staring at the empty air as his unseen sworn brother took flight, his footsteps retreating until sirens drowned them out.

Looking back down at Kanda, Shigeru let his hands slip into claws, and gave the son of a bitch one last gouge for good measure.

*

Yamamori Ryokan, Izumisano, Osaka, Japan. June 6th, 1970.

"You went to PRISON for them?!" Yoko yelled, slamming her hands on the table and pitching up onto her knees. The other cups on the table clattered, and Kazuhiro recoiled in shock. Sniper and Scout shared a nervous look, while Spy remained nonplussed.

"For three months. Their security was a joke. Captain Ugaki hid my hoshitama on the roof of the family office, which I took and left without contact. I was back in Paris before the season changed."

"NOT THE POINT!"

"Then what is the point? Yo-chan, the amount of morally suspect shit I've done in my life, both before and after leavin' Japan the first time would turn your fur white."

"If my fur were white then I'd be able to get a job workin' for Inari-okami and I wouldn't be here puttin' up with your bullshit!"

"She's awful mad," Scout mumbled, leaning in to Sniper. "Should we..." he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, wordlessly suggesting an exit.

Sniper nodded, and looked to Kazuhiro, who made eye contact and slowly nodded in agreement. Each slugged back their sake and quietly made their egress.

*

"She's a spitfire," Sniper muttered as the three descended the stairs into the ryokan proper, the 'staff only' door at its bottom left open.

"Like gettin' yelled at by Ma. Same kinda attitude, like 'is this the time I finally push 'er over the edge an' she stabs me?'"

"Yo-chan is often more calm," Kazuhiro replied, his English hesitant, and thickly-accented. "She hate yakuza."

"I mean, can't say I blame 'er," Scout replied, carefully hopping down the last step to avoid scuffing the hardwood with his hooves. "They keep rollin' in an' wreckin' 'er shit. If I built all this up by hand I'd wanna light the fuckers on fire too."

"Strewth."

Scout winced as a tirade he couldn't understand echoed down the stairs in Spy's voice. "You think they're gonna be okay?"

"I think they will. Lot of emotion," Kazuhiro assured him, looking nervously back the way they'd come.

"Tadaima!"called a man's voice from the entryway, startling all three men.

Kazuhiro dashed through the lobby, sliding to a halt on his socks as he saw a man dressed in a business suit stepping out of his shoes and onto the hardwood floor, both doors closed behind him. "Kenji-san! How did you get in here?"

Sniper and Scout trotted in after Kazuhiro, eyes on the newcomer. He was about Scout's height, but broader, athletically built even under the concealing lines of his navy suit, which bore a lapel pin in the shape of a rounded sunflower with a balance scale at its centre. His face was narrow and clean-shaven, with golden-brown eyes and an aquiline nose. His short salt-and-pepper hair was parted to one side. From his backside, three orange tails trailed, the white at their tips more pronounced than Spy's and Yoko's. He had a duffel slung around his torso, with one hand resting on the strap.

"Well I knocked for about ten minutes, then just gave up and picked the locks. Don't worry; I locked up behind me. You know, if you're expecting visitors, you should really be listening for them to arrive," the man, Kenji, explained with a chuckle. He looked to the foreigners, lifting an eyebrow, tensing and almost-instantly relaxing the moment he saw Scout's antlers and cervine legs. "You have guests?"

"Oh, these are friends of Shigeru-san, from his work in America."

"Of course Shige-chan surrounds himself with gorgeous men," Kenji snorted.

"He's a man of taste. This is Mun—"

Kenji surged forward and offered Sniper a handshake and bow together, his eyes roving the taller man, checking him out without any attempt at concealing it. "Morimoto Kenji, a pleasure to meet you," he said in English, flashing him a winning smile, complete with fangs.

Sniper smiled in return, taking his hand for a hearty shake and bowing in addition, making sure to make an obvious show of appraising him in return. "Mundy," he replied. When Kenji released him, he gestured to Scout. "And this is Scout."

"Nice to meet you," Kenji offered, affording Scout a far less lacivious but still pleasantly flirty handshake and bow combination.

"Yeah, right back atcha," Scout replied with a wink, glad he was willing to talk to him rather than just let Sniper translate. "Your English is real good!"

"Thank you," Kenji chuckled, releasing Scout. "I don't speak as many languages as Shige-chan, but I like to think I'm no slouch. And in my line of work, it's more helpful than you'd expect."

"Whatcha you do for a livin'?"

"I'm a defense attorney," Kenji chirped proudly, tapping his lapel pin. "I specialize in representing youkai in court, since we have differing needs compared to humans." He looked to Kazuhiro. "Speakin' of youkai, where are Shige-chan and Yo-chan? I brought some sweets from the city."

"Upstairs. It seems Shigeru-san has a more... intimate knowledge of the situation than any of us had thought."

[callmearcturus]

i found my old-ass dresden/marcone playlist and yanno its amazing that my taste in music has always been so good, science should study me

"Western Biographic" into "Told My Troubles To The River" into "The Underdog" into "Orca" into "Holocaust for Giants" into "Cream and Bastards" into "Catapult" oh man I had it bad for Marcone.

/clenches fist. fucking archetypes. more like kryptonites, am I right?

[crowning-art]

Tgcf spoilers

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I am SO worried rn

jun wu is so powerful like how they gonna fight him??? Power of love???? MORE TRANSFORMERS?

Lmao I forgot about Ling Wen but now that He's back in the playing field...I CANT BELIEVE HE IS SUPPORTING JUN WU?? I DUNNO I THOUGHT HE MIGHT HAVE TAKEN A NICE ROUTE AT SOME POINT?

As said before, the ✨️parallels✨️ between Jun Wu and Hua Cheng are INSANE

The way he spoke to Xie Lian was still the same as before; warm, tolerant, composed, dependable, there were no changes. But the more he was like this, the more Xie Lian was confused and terrified.

Like again, Hua Cheng was described as all these things too and YET, it's NOT the same

Lmao Not hualian taking EVERY opportunity to act like shy newly weds, like yes, there is a grave situation, a plague is going to be unleashed but ummmm are u interested in going on a date with me later? 🥰😘😌😳😆

It makes me so so happy how easily Wind Master brightens the mood around everyone LITERALLY THE BEST

Xie Lian was speechless and choked out a laugh. “Can you not stand anyone?”

That line was directed to Hua Cheng. Shi Qingxuan replied, “He said: ‘Other than you, no.’ I say, Hua Chengzhu, that’s not very nice, I’m standing right here, yanno! You can’t stand me either??? What’s wrong with me???”

When this whole sequence started, I had my heart in my throat, cuz he has been hating Qi Ying VERY PASSIONATELY and there's no way he'll refuse Jun Wu's offer

However, Jun Wu replied, “That’s not necessarily true. There are many who know you. Even if they’ve never met you before, they know of you.”

Yin Yu was taken aback. “Really?”

“Because many know of your shidi,” Jun Wu said. “And when your shidi is mentioned, the subject of you would often be raised. The one that’s a foil.”

BUT HE DID!!! OH MY GOD!! I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS RN YOOOO ITS LIKE PARALLELING BEEFLEAF IN SO MANY WAYS T-T

Yin Yu finally couldn’t take it anymore. He clenched his fists tight, his knuckles cracking, and he whipped around. “I DO RESENT HIM! I DO HATE HIM!!! BUT, SO WHAT??”

Quan Yizhen was flustered and ruffled, speaking as blood spewed from his nose and mouth,

“Shixiong…”

“SHUT UP!!!” Yin Yu shouted.

Guys

Guys

THIS WAS MY FACE WHEN XIE LIAN REMMEBERED THE RING AROUND HIS NECK JSJDJXKDKXKD

I was like shoot oh God, if Jun Wu figures out the ring OH GOD I can imagine Xie Lian how everything must have changed for him after he realized what he was carrying with him....

This part! Buddy, my pal, my dearest Xie Lian....

The moment Xie Lian saw him, he felt him to be incomparably dependable, and there was nothing left to worry about!

I THINK THERE IS A LOT TO BE WORRIED ABOUT...

[tteokdoroki]

mmm yes head full of dabi who just comes over to your house whenever he wants attention. he either wants cuddles or he wants to be balls deep inside of you <3

cw // mentions of blood, somnophilia, cursing, angst lol im sorry + dabi. mdni, 18+.

you first met dabi in the alleyway behind your apartment complex while taking out the trash. he’d been beat, no doubt running from something, something that most likely was the law. your area wasn’t the safest, high with crime and the pro heroes like hawks, often stop by regularly for patrols. but you can’t leave him here, bloody and bruised by the garbage. you can’t.

so you lug him into your apartment, cursing like a sailor for being ‘such a heavy motherfucker’ and patch him up. when dabi comes to, you’re met with burning sea foam eyes and a matching fist only this time blue— but he notices that you don’t look afraid even as you ask for his name. “dabi. i could kill you yanno.”

“yn. and it wouldn’t be fair to kill someone who just saved your life.”

dabi comes back, regularly, after that. whenever he’s scorched from his quirk or beaten out of shape from a fight, he sneaks into your apartment and waits for you to patch him up. you never say anything, ask any questions all except for when you ask if he can lift his shirt or tilt his head when you put rubbing alcohol against his wounds. dabi realises, he likes that, your attention on him and how you take care of him even when you don’t have to.

maybe that’s why he kisses you the night you stitch up a cut on his cheek, why his tongue swipes across your bottom lip to taste your cherry gloss before forcing its way it’s your mouth. you don’t fight him, don’t ask questions, just eagerly accept what he gives to you as he backs you up into the wall and growls against your neck that he paints with harsh bites. maybe that’s why he fucks you in your bed, throwing you down onto the sheets after finding his way to your room— putting you on hands and knees while he slides his cock between the glistening sex hidden away by your plush thighs.

you moan for him “dabi, dabi, dabi,” while his hot, pierced girth stretches you open and soaks itself if your sweet juices. you suck him in so good, clench around him when he calls you mean names and brands your ass with the heat of his palms. dabi’s addicted already, rolling his hips in sinful ways that make you see stars.

“you’re my bitch.” he growls hips pressed right up against your cute ass that he grips and gropes, using it to push you back and forth on his length. “my bitch, you got that?” the way you babble and whinge while he forces his cock into the deepest parts of your weeping sex only makes him throb and leak spurts of hot precum against your walls. thats his way of marking you, his way of letting you know that you’re his now. you have to know that, get it drilled into your head while your tight sex takes him over and over again— dripping onto the sheets below with a mix of your arousals.

and that night turns into two, then three, then four and it gets to the point where dabi comes over for more than just your medical kit and the bottle of whiskey you save for special occasions— each time he comes you’re fucked raw until there’s noise complaints from the neighbours and the smell of sex lines the four walls of your bedroom. dabi loves how you now leave your window unlocked for him to sneak through and press his cock into you while you sleep like a baby. more than once you’ve woken up, sticky thighs as his cum drips out of your hole but every time you smile up at him and say “welcome home, dabi.”

you become his home, his safe space and the only thing he thinks about from then on. dabi fights to be with you, he wants to live, to be with you and the day he comes home to you basically burnt alive, he realises that. “c’mon dabi, don’t you fucking leave me now, you stupid criminal bastard.” you can barely hold back the tears after cleaning up his cuts and hauling him into your practically shared bed. he made no promises to stay alive for you, so why does it feel like he’s breaking one? “dabi, stay with me...”

dabi feels safe in your arms, warm while you hold him close and give him his first hug in years. “it’s touya,” he groans, feeling more alive in your arms than he ever did before— those neon tourquise eyes finding yours in the darkness. you frown, confused, but he cups your cheek with an unexplainable feeling building in his chest. “touya, it’s my real name.”

blinking back tears, you brush a hand through dabi’s midnight locks and sigh. “then stay with me, touya, you sick bastard.”

and this time he promises to.

[spotsupstuff]

Your Fruit Twins Au where they're brothers is one of the most well-detailed AUs I've seen in the fandom and I like it lots! I enjoy reading and looking at everything about it when I can; both the art and writing. I also don't ship Wukong x Mac with reasons, too. Mostly due to their context from the book. I read you also don't ship them for complicated reasons. I'm just curious why on the full story, but I understand if you don't answer. Anyhow, cheers to your work ^^

AA!!!! Im so glad you find the detailness of the au good!!! N that you enjoy it!!!!!!!!! Means a lot, its a lot of fun to work on it <3

Well, my whole perception on shippin those two is, on the very base of it all, a big No cuz just like you I hold onto n respect the context of the book a ton. My opinion about the whole thing is heavily influenced by the chinese peeps here on tumblr- they essentially made up my whole opinion for a good while, cuz, after all, they know better than I do when it comes to their own damb culture. Plus, after reading SEM's chapter + looking around the internet to see how some other peeps interpret his role in the story, I find it... incredibly disrespectful n kinda shitty to take away the important religious meaning of his existence as embodiment of the "two mindness". N as Ive said in a different post before, I sorta lean more into the eastern faith than what is generally regarded as the western faith, so yanno

N thru this religious/philosophical meaning of him, pairin him up with Sun Wukong is Either like pairin two sibs together, or, honestly, pairin up an offspring with their mother if we aliken what the fuck went down with them to biology- seeing as SEM came out of SWK. Myths n legends r just weird like that n the book has a big myth/legend feel to it

But!

I've seen Other chinese peeps on other platforms either not minding them being paired up or actively shippin them. There's always going to be a wide pool of opinions on a topic, especially with such a giant audience as people who grow up with the Journey. After seein that there Is indeed a wider pool of opinions about this in the homeland of the book, Ive felt like I can kinda chill out with the metaphoric fist clenching and barking bout the whole situation (n proceed to more freely develop my own opinion)

Im not an asian, so I simply do not have the emotional connection to these characters like chinese people do and thats where the ones on tumblr base Their understandable and incredibly valid resentment (idk if thats the right word) from. They have a deep-rooted idea of those two that cant be shaken n there IS no reason to shake it at all either. Not having any of those things as a foreigner and seeing that its more of a loose situation, makes Me specifically more "eh, whatever I guess?" bout it

[I AM however not of an american/anglo-saxon roots either and even though my Own culture/folklore has been thru, basically, a genocide (that may or may not be still on-going honestly -pained sigh-), I understand the importance of the culture thats being kind of doubted/stained by sh@dowpeach. I do Get it to a certain fundamental level, yanno?]

N so because of the lack of connection to the specifically asian culture + still knowing how much it hurts to have ur culture disgraced + the wide pool of opinions From valid sources (the story's homeland's people) + the fact that sometimes interpretations will just simply vary from the source material n LMK has showcased multiple times that it is not interested in tracing the Journey's footsteps to the last letter, my final opinion on the ship is "Not for me, chief, das kinda yucky (but I guess I can't exactly jump your throat for it like I would with more blatantly direct incest)"

THOUGH I DO GOTTA ADMIT after the season 3 finale, after That One Scene, my No is stronger cuz if that wasnt a display of sib culture (+ what Xiaotian said) then Im a fuckin donkey

[heyitsyn]

Keeping Up With Seijoh Ep. 3

a/n: uwuwuwuwu this is an au since yanno,,,, they didnt really make it to nationals :(

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

GUESS WHOS BACK! BACK AGAIN!

anon:

may i request a scenario where seijoh made it to nationals and atsumu flirts with reader🥺

CAN WE BLS STOP THIS SANGWOO/ATSUMU TYPA BEAT BC I HONESTLY DONT VIBE W IT AND IT LOWKEY SCARES ME A LITTLE :o

OMLOMLOML YALL MADE IT TO NATIONALS

to be honest, it was,,, unexpected

you were sitting there, on the bench and gripping it in anticipation as seijoh and shiratorizawa were once again at a match point thanks to kyotani’s angry spike

going past 31, they were now 31-30 with seijoh in the lead

you could tell ushijima was getting antsy despite him covering it up and encouraging his team with a one-liner

your own team was buzzing with both nervousness and hope and iwaizumi was clenching and unclenching his fists in anticipation for the last toss

when the ball went up, oikawa’s eyes flashed, arms moving to set and the red-haired spiky guy was now watching which spiker he was going to give it to

however

he tossed it to no one

instead, oikawa’s hand flicked and he dumped the ball

it was like in slow motion and as shiratorizawa’s players scrambled to the floor, 

it was too late

the ball bounced on yellow polished floor before rolling away, completely unaware of what just happened and the lives it just changed

your mouth hung open, eyes trailing after the rubber ball like every single people in the gym

then it finally hit you

‘YOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

a scream from iwaizumi lit the candle of happiness and you didnt even care, running out to the court to jump on your captain, tears flowing down his face and his arms squeezing you tightly against his chest

‘AKLDFJJSHKFEOIOWIHFSKESIFOEWIHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

it was all a jumbled noise from everyone, your team, your coaches, the fans in the stand, and even from that orange boy and his team

the boys were hugging each other and crying and sobbing but oikawa’s hold remained on you, your own tears mixing with his sweat and coating his neck

‘you did it, oikawa-san. you did it’

you whimpered and he laughed and you felt him nodding

‘we’re going to tokyo. nationals!’

he choked out 

‘OIKAWA!’

the entire gym rumbled and you basked in the joy that the entire team radiated before having to stand with the coaches so they could shake hands with shiratorizawa for a good game

the locker room was loud, even much louder than the gym, with kindaichi’s loud sobbing and mattsuhana’s loud celebratory singing and iwaizumi’s joking shouts and eventually joining in

iwaizumi held his arms out for you and you giggled, crashing straight into him

you wiped his sweat filled face and he sat down on the bench, with you standing between his legs and his large hands gripping your waist

‘it’s not a dream, right?’

he whispered, eyes closed at the gentle feeling of you caressing his face

‘no, iwa-san. nationals is ours’

you soothed and he let out another loud laugh before pulling you close and burying his face in your stomach, probably crying again but this time, out of joy

for years theyve tried

and now, they succeeded

well,,, nationals should be a good thing, right?

hmm,,, maybe the honor of going

but the other players??

oh god

it was obvious when miyagi’s representative entered through those doors and eyes immediately went to their manager

it wasnt like you were the only female manager but you were an unfamiliar team so you have never been seen before

uwu youre so pretty like bow down to the goddess

oikawa’s hold on your hand was tight and his eyes flitted to everyone who looked at them, as if signalling them to back off and you were his

‘wahh, oikawa-san! kageyama told me that the best of the best are in here! he told me to look for fukurodani and nekoma!’

seijoh’s eye twitched at the mention of your new-found friend who you’ve been texting back and forth and him secretly teaching you everything about volleyball since your own team has been too busy preparing for nationals

they watched you try and stand in your tippy toes to find the apparent red and black jerseys and the black, white and gold jerseys

hmm,,,, it seems everyone had the same colors

‘ne, y/n-chan, you trust our team, don’t you? if anything, we’re part of the best of the best! you got the best setter right here!’

oikawa grinned but you nodded distractedly

‘come on, we got to go unpack and train’

iwaizumi nudged so you had to stop looking and you followed your captain, who still held your hand

but this is a typical fanfiction ladies and gents

as you were walking towards the locker room, there was a team that wore maroon colored jackets and were walking towards you

again, this is seijoh’s very first nationals so nobody really knew of them

they were more familiar of the white and purple jackets of shiratorizawa rather than the mint green and white of seijoh

however, oikawa seemed to know them

‘ah’

he whispered out, making you look up at him but his sights were straight towards them, a hard and cold look

‘ara? fresh blood?’

you cringed at the weird analogy and the guy with the black tips, who you infered to be the captain, elbowed him

 ‘excuse us’

he nodded in greeting and you noticed the guy with the bleach hair and you did a double-take, blinking rapidly

‘oh sangwoo?’

KSLDFJKDLFJSLDK KILL ME ALREADY

watari coughed, knowing exactly what you meant and it seems nobody else did except for the sangwoo look-a-like

and he raised an eyebrow in interest

‘hm? you called?’

another guy with gray hair, who looked exactly like him, rolled his eyes and he pulled him forward to walk after their captain

but he didnt let off yet

as he passed you by, he leaned close, breath fanning your ear

‘but its miya atsumu, baby girl’

ON GOD I WANT TO COMMIT WITH HOW GROSS HE IS LIKE BLS

kyo, who was behind you, growled at him and pulled you behind himself

‘she has name, fcker’

atsumu faked a surprise and backed away with his hands up

‘alrighty, then. didnt know you had a bodyguard, girlie. but maybe,, later on, we could get to know each other. alone’

YALL THIS IS GOING TO GET BETTER LATER I PROMISE HES NOT A WEIRDO PERVERT AS HE SOUNDS

osamu was annoyed and dragged him away, leaving you with your team, who were also extremely pissed off, especially oikawa

‘heh, the best setter in the country and yet he acts like a horny dog’

oikawa seethed, a pointy smile etched on his face

‘eh? best setter?’

you wondered but not given an answer because your captain would be damned if that atsumu decided to show up again

the locker room was actually the same back home

but kindaichi was sobbing again

‘t-this room! the best of the best! i cant-too much-’

you were busy hugging him and wiping his tears to notice the third years huddling over by the corner

oikawa was sitting on the bench while iwaizumi was changing into his practice jersey and the other two were flanked beside the captain

‘of course theyve got their eye on her now’

oikawa mumbled, fingers laced together and touching his lips

‘what can you expect? y/n-chan is an extremely pretty girl’

mattsun shrugged

‘but ugh, if i see that cheese face again,, i will fight’

iwa threatened, angrily slipping his arms through the holes

‘he reeked nasty! gross!’

makki agreed

‘so we’re agreeing to keep her in our sights right?’

they agreed to oikawa’s question and were going to stick by that word

but,,,,

what can you expect from star-struck players?

maybe its because theyve worked for so long to reach this point that the fact that they’re even standing in the tokyo stadium felt like a dream

‘guys, i need to go and fill the bottles really quick’

they mumbled distracted agreements so you sighed and lugged the crate of bottles

thank god there was a fountain nearby and as you were capping the last one, a familiar voice rang from behind you

‘oh? baby girl?’

you flinched at the weird nickname and thought that if you stayed quiet, hed leave

‘chibi? hey?’

he asked and made his way to your side, you closing your eyes and looking off to the side

atsumu thought you were interesting, not like every girl who would spread their legs at him and press up to him

the fact that you even AVOIDED looking at him was so foreign to him and your dismissive attitude made him so drawn to you

‘look, im sorry if i made ya uncomfortable earlier’

he,,, apologized?

but you didnt know who he was so you didnt know how out of character it was for him to even say ‘sorry’

'miya-san, hello’

you mumbled, eyes now opened but still focused on the bottle you gripped

he cracked a smile and was he,,,, nervous?

usually, hed say something dumb or sarcastic to cut the tension, but it was like he was even,,, careful,,, with what he wanted to say next

‘how-um-you like it ‘ere?’

if osamu was to see him now, he’d think his brother was kidnapped by those aliens oikawa swore up and down were real and was replaced by some opposite dimension version of atsumu

you gulped, mustering up a small smile before turning to look at him

‘miya-san, dont take offense to this, but just know i have a very loud voice and i can lift 80 pounds. and im the first one to ever beat iwa-san in an arm-wrestling match’

you puffed your cheeks in intimidation with your eyebrows furrowed but accidentally looking more cute rather than scary

were you,,, threatening him?

atsumu paused for a second to assess the situation and really understand the underlying meaning of your words

then he laughed

a real hearty laugh that made him go for a whole minute

‘-ahahaha!! whew, chibi-chan, ya’r a rare one’

wait i dont know how to type you’re with an accent !!!!!

he let out a few more chuckles then wiped a tear that fell

you just stood there 🧍‍♀️ 

‘you think its funny, miya-san? yahaba-kun and i also have a supernatural telepathy phenomenon-’

‘chibi-chan, i swear i wont hurt ya’

he promised but you backed your face away, an eyebrow raised

‘thats what they all say. if anything, youre scaring me more so i’ll-’

‘wait’

he held out a hand out but he quickly curled it, pulling it back to his chest

‘i,,,, listen i know how basic this may sound but,,,, youre the first to ever be like this to me’

you rolled your eyes

‘you think i havent heard that before? i have oikawa-san in my team, for god’s sake! ‘youre one of a kind’ ‘youre not like other girls’ yadda yadda’ try harder, miya-san’

you tilted your head with a crooked smile 

were you,,, playing hard to get?!

atsumu’s eyes shined, wanting to finally do the chasing rather than being chased

‘well, first off, chibi-chan, i need to know your name’

he leaned forward with his hands buried deep inside his maroon jacket pocket

‘my name? what good will that do? you already call me something else dont you? a name is meant to help people call each other and youve been calling me ‘chibi’ so what’s the point of giving you my birth name?’

even with a straight face, atsumu right away knew of your teasing as your eyes were shining brightly and had a hint of amusement in them

oh my god hes in love with you

he was in disbelief of your attitude towards him so he nodded slowly and laughed again

‘what can i do to earn that name then, chibi-chan?’

ehehehe kuroo,,,,, im in danger

you crossed your arms and pouted, leaning forward

‘ehh? why do you want it so bad? do you call others ‘chibi’ too?’

your expression of suspicion was so adorable that he couldnt stop himself from lunging forward and squeezing your cheeks between his fingers

‘so cute. youre my only chibi, chibi-chan’

you hummed, swiftly wiping his touch away from you

‘doubt it. ive only met you today and you’re already acting like this. what makes you think i think youre genuinely interested in me, miya-san?’

‘fate?’

this time, you chuckled, head leaning down

and as you looked back up, your heart stopped

by the distance, there was a familiar-looking haired boy with golden eyes and an also familiar black hair and steel blue eyes

oh dear

your emotions went sour but you saw the black and white-haired male laugh and the steel eyed male shake his head in disapproval but had the hint of the smallest smile

they,, were now happy

‘fate, you say’

you mumbled distractedly

‘fate instilled magnets in us so i just cant help but be drawn to ya’

atsumu grinned but you averted your eyes to look at him, a soft and genuinely happy look

‘would those magnets be strong enough to draw us together, even if we were in another life? if we were fated, would we meet again?’

you looked up at him, your eyes still glistening but this time, with the slightest bit of hope

atsumu sent you a confused glance but he still shrugged

‘i guess so, if i’m so drawn to you right now. maybe in our past life we were,,, together?’

he tested out, expecting you to roll your eyes and walk away but you laughed

‘well, i just witnessed it happening so maybe its possible?’

you wondered out loud

atsumu blinked again, getting more and more interested in you

‘chibi-chan?’

he asked you and you jumped slightly to look at him with a smile

‘say, miya-san, what if i told you that i remember my past life? and what would you say if i told you that you were in it?’

you grinned but atsumu scrunched his face together before smiling

‘hmm, i dont know what youre sayin but it proves my point!’

he exclaimed but you cocked an eyebrow, a sad smile resting on your lips

‘now what would you say if i told you that you were my nurse?’

a/n: omg i actually hate how this turned out like bls blast me on this

a/n pt 2: during my break, i actually re-read ‘in another life’ and i wrote this up after i finished it again and can i just say? I WILL NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CREDITS TO LITTLELUXRAY ON AO3

a/n pt 3: hewwo im back again and since no one replied with a link, i can,,, guess??,,, that the book is gone??? or taken down?? but anyways, i just really wanted to post something and tbh, stuff like this cant be helped but i really do hope that it’s gone and if its not, dkasjdfkslf again send me the link

[vannahfanfics]

Before you read, here’s the previous chapter. New? Start from the beginning!

Cherry-Orange Blossoms

Ao3

Katsuki released a small, satisfied sigh after popping the noodle bowl away from his mouth, tongue swiping the last dregs of broth still clinging to his lips. He’d gotten much better at suppressing the disgusted shiver that gripped his body every time he forced himself to eat. As nausea roiled in his belly with an angry yowl, he physically suppressed it with a few thick swallows. Though the cough, fatigue, and sore throat were annoying, he’d have to say that the variation in his appetite was the worst symptom. At least it was the easiest to hide. 

He set the bowl down on the lunch tray with a small exhale. As he moved, the nausea forced its way back up, making him clamp his hand over his mouth in a pitiful effort to combat the strong urge to retch. No! Stop bein’ a weak little bitch! You have to keep this fucking food down, he yelled at his rebelling body. His stomach flopped a few more times for obediently settling back down, though with a few more indignant grumbles. He scrunched up his face as he sucked in a few tentative breaths, praying the beast would stay quiet this time. 

I’m not fucking kicking the bucket until this whole country knows my name, he thought lividly. Basketball was the only thing he had to live for now; he’d be damned if this fungus growing in his lungs was gonna take that away from him, too. For better or for worse, he was going to make the best of his final basketball season. 

Just as he had finally settled down and was debating forcing himself to grab seconds, Ochako’s cheery voice calling his name floated above the cacophony of conversation clouding the air around him. He lurched into the table as his lungs spasmed, the flowers inside his tissue blooming in reverence of her siren call. The noodle bowl jumped as he slammed his fists down and his glass overturned, spilling water all over the red tray and the table. He frantically righted it and grabbed the few napkins he had to try and mop up the puddle of clear liquid as the brunette came trotting up. 

“Katsuki, Katsuki, listen to this— Oh, no! Here, let me help you!” Ochako cried as she spotted him using the sopping-wet napkins to try and wipe up the remainder of the liquid. She snatched some napkins from a nearby container and scurried over, squeezing into the space next to him to furiously dab at the spreading water. As her arm brushed against his, Katsuki locked up and began to shake so hard he wondered if he was having a fucking seizure. Before Ochako could notice, he pinched his leg hard to make his mind stop spiraling into insanity. 

His throat still burned as he swallowed repeatedly to force the rising petals back down, and a thin sheet of sweat bloomed on his skin from the tremor that so suddenly gripped him. Ochako turned her pretty brown eyes on him in a look of inquiry. He appeased her unspoken question by languidly reclining in the booth and running his fingers through his hair, though he cringed as the salty perspiration slicked his fingertips. 

“What’re you lookin’ at me like that for, Cheeks? I just knocked a glass of water over.” 

Ochako’s eyes fluttered a few times as she processed his nonchalant excuse. She seemed to believe it, smiling brightly with a slight nod. 

“Right, right! Of course, haha,” she hummed as she dropped the wet napkins onto his tray. No seconds for me, I guess, he thought with a frown as he regarded the menagerie of soaked brown paper slips that littered the plastic plate. “What was I going to say?” Ochako frowned, pressing the pad of her index finger to her lips as she straightened. Again, her arm gently brushed his, and Katsuki felt electric fire sing through his nerves. He clenched his fists under the table, silently suffering as Ochako stood oblivious next to him. 

“Oh, right!” she exclaimed after a second, clapping her hands together to turn on him with that brilliant smile that he lived for yet killed him slowly. “Katsuki! I made an A on the math quiz! Look, look!” 

Katsuki jerked when she thrust a piece of paper into his face. He edged back a little so he could appreciate the series of red marks inked over the neatly written numbers and equations. Like Ochako had said, there were few incorrect answers. After a second, she pulled back the page to give him a smile that was brighter than before. 

“It’s all thanks to you, Katsuki.” 

“Nah,” the blond muttered, rubbing the back of his neck while a pink hue rose to his cheeks. “That’s all you, Cheeks. I mighta helped a little, but you didn’t do anythin’ you weren’t capable of.” 

Ochako’s eyes grew owlish, making him flinch uncomfortably. Then, like a flip had switched inside of her, she started blubbering. 

“ Kahhhsukiiii !” she wailed in between hiccuping sobs, clutching the quiz to her chest so hard that it crumpled under her grip. The blond’s face grew a shade darker at the strange (and adorable) reaction, prompting him to hide his face with a hand. 

“The hell you cryin’ for?” he chastised half-heartedly. Ochako moaned woefully and tried to stifle her tears, but they continued to pour in thick globs down those round cheeks of hers, which were beginning to turn a ruddy red. Katsuki snorted and stood up, leaning over the lunch table. “Jeez, what am I going to do with you?” he sighed with a tiny smile as he scrubbed at her cheeks with the ends of his sleeves. Ochako let out little squeaks with each swipe of the fabric across her skin, the paper crinkling as her fingers twitched. 

“Always such a crybaby,” he said affectionately when he finally pulled away, the ends of his sleeves damp with Ochako’s tears. “Less cryin’ and more eatin’, Cheeks. I don’t wanna hear you complaining that you’re hungry later!” To emphasize his point, he turned her around by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shove. She gasped as she stumbled forward, then turned around to flash him a giddy smile. Katsuki couldn’t help the way he looked at her then, the way his expression softened and his heart fluttered. 

He was thankful she turned around to leave right as his lungs spasmed again. He hunched over while slapping a hand to his mouth, trembling at the disgusting feeling of the soft, silky petals crawling up his throat. He could see her form retreating through the tears flooding his eyes, the skip in her step as she rejoined the other girls at the lunch table. His chest burned with the strain to suppress the coughs, like a fire had started in his lungs hell-bent on burning him up to ash from the inside out. 

Why did he do this to himself, he wondered as the tears faded and his vision cleared. His answer was immediate, illuminating the room in the form of Ochako’s happy smile. He’d rather live out the rest of his days in total misery than deprive himself of that pure, innocent light of an angel come to earth. 

Idiot, he thought with a slight wheeze through his fingers. This is why you’re dying . 

Katsuki’s vermillion eyes were stinging and still slightly bloodshot when he finally eased himself back into his chair. He looked down at the lunch tray, which was covered with damp napkins, and then pushed it away with a huff. As he plopped his chin down on his crossed arms, Hanta and Denki leaned over each of his shoulders with matching grins that just spelled “annoying.” 

“Yanno, you’re awfully chummy with Ochako lately,” Denki hummed with a wiggle of his eyebrows. 

“Yeah,” Hanta chimed in agreement, “ awful chummy, way too chummy to be with someone else’s girlfriend. You wouldn’t want Izuku getting any ideas about your intentions, now would you?” As Katsuki shot the ravenet an irritated glare, he popped a corndog into his mouth with raised eyebrows. 

“You think I give a fuck about Deku’s ideas ?” he snorted derisively. He shifted to press his cheek into his hand, glowering at Hanta. “What, I can’t be friends with her because she’s dating that shitstain? Get off my case,” he grumbled. 

“Hey, hey, no need to get offended,” Denki said in a sing-song voice. Katsuki looked at him to see him biting down on the tip of his tongue mischievously. “We’re just making an observation.” 

“Yeah, an observation!” 

“Observe this , assholes,” Katsuki retorted and flipped them both off. Before they could annoy him further, he pushed himself up from the table. He slid his hands in his pockets, ignoring the two pleading for him to come back in between laughter. As he sauntered around the table, he found himself glancing in the direction of the girls— and noted the absence of bouncy brown hair and rosy round cheeks. 

He barely had time to wonder where she went before the nausea roiled in his belly again. His hands flew out of his pockets to clutch his belly, and then one slapped to his mouth as he was overtaken with the strong urge to retch. He shouldered through the double doors of the lunch room to stagger down the hall; through his blurry vision, he could spy the bathroom sign hovering against the wall. However, Katsuki’s pride burned inside of him; he was going to try his damnedest to resist. He slumped against the wall and slowly slid down into a squat, then pried his hand away from his mouth to begin gulping down air. 

For a few seconds, the deep breaths only heightened his urge to vomit; gradually, however, his writhing stomach slowly settled. He slowly leveled out his breathing until he was just sitting against the brick, exhausted by the effort. He ran his shaking fingers through his hair, and when he pulled it back, he found his fingertips glistening with sweat. 

“ Fuck ,” he cursed quietly and leaned forward to cradle his head in his hands. It had barely been a month since those damn petals had blossomed in his lungs; how was he supposed to cope with the later stages of his disease, when he was so damn miserable? Tears of frustration sprung to the corners of his eyes and he gripped his hair between his fingers, tugging at the spiky strands. “Why are you doing this to yourself, Katsuki?” he whispered hoarsely. 

He knew why. He knew damn well why, and yet he wouldn’t— couldn’t — do a damn thing about it. 

He jumped when he heard a bang echo in the wall behind him. Startled at the idea of being found like that, he scrambled to his feet and turned around. It took a moment for his disoriented mind to recognize the sign for the women’s bathroom above his head. He looked down at the entrance when another bang sounded in the depths of the bathroom, followed by the unmistakable sound of miserable retching. Someone’s sick…? He thought in confusion.

He was even more confused when Ochako came toddling out, looking a little green in the face and wiping at the corner of her mouth with a palm. When she spotted Katsuki, she froze like a deer in headlights, eyes growing enormous. They just stared at each other for a few seconds, stunned by this strange reaction, until Katsuki sputtered the first thing that came to mind. 

“Cheeks, you aren’t pregnant , are ya?” 

“ What ?!” she shrieked, turning a bright shade of crimson. “N-n-n-n-no! Oh my God, Katsuki, no !” She buried her face in her hands, but Katsuki could still almost see the air sizzling around her head from the heat rolling off her face. “I-It’s some medications I’m on!” she explained through the gaps in her fingers. “I-i-it’s really heavy-duty stuff, with nausea and vomiting as the number-one side effect… Pr-pr-pregnant ? Why on Earth— D-Deku and I don’t— w-we don’t do— oh my gosh!” 

As she turned so red Katsuki began to worry her head might actually explode, he jumped forward and waved his hands placatingly. 

“All right, Cheeks, all right! I’m sorry I asked; that was pretty fucking stupid of me, okay! Calm down!” 

Ochako was close to the point of hyperventilating with shock. Smiling wanly, he gently peeled her hands away from her face to find it bright red and shining with nervous sweat. Her eyes were glued to her shoes, watering with tears of embarrassment. Her teeth worried into her bottom lip to shred the fine skin. “Hey,” he laughed, admittedly charmed by her cute overreaction, and cupped her cheek. “Cheeks, look at me. I’m sorry, okay? That was dumb of me.” 

Hesitantly, she looked up at him. Tears clung like dewdrops to her lashes, which fluttered nervously as soon as she met his gaze. 

“I can’t believe you asked me that,” she pouted. He had to chuckle at the adorable way she jutted out her bottom lip; then, the flowers in his lungs began to stir again. He hurriedly stepped back from her, his palm missing the warmth of her soft cheek as soon as it vanished. He stuffed his hands back in his pockets and looked off to the side, but unable to keep his eyes from sliding back to look at her out of his peripheral vision. 

“Tch. I said I was sorry, okay? I mean, what was I supposed to think, with you hurling in the middle of the day? You’ve already had Hanahaki and it’s impossible to relapse when you’re dating Deku.” 

Something flickered over her face, lightning-fast, but Katsuki still caught it. He raised an eyebrow at the strange emotion that passed over her features; he couldn’t name it, but it was nonetheless strange. Ochako hummed thoughtfully and turned, her gaze growing cloudy as she walked to the vending machine across the hall. Katsuki’s body turned of its own volition to keep her in his line of sight. 

“You’re right,” she said quietly, surveying the selection of drinks. “It just took me by surprise, that’s all…” Robotically, she removed a yen bill from her wallet and slid it into the machine, then pressed the buttons to select a bottle of water. The robotic arm within the vending machine jerkily retrieved it and deposited it into the slot. Before Ochako could bend down to get it, though, Katsuki had already closed the distance between them and plucked it from the machine. 

“Cheeks,” he said and poked her in the side of the head with the end of the bottle. She blinked as he pushed the cold plastic into her temple, not sure what to make of the sudden action. Katsuki’s face was pensive, trying to riddle out just what had caused Ochako’s mood to shift so suddenly. But he could glean nothing from that sweet round face and warm brown eyes; whatever it was, Ochako had buried it deep inside. 

I guess we all have our secrets. 

“Cheeks,” he repeated, his lips curling up into a smile. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

Idiot, he thought once more when a smile slowly bloomed on her face, making his heart flutter like a baby bird preparing for its first unsteady flight. He loved that smile so damn much it hurt; it filled his soul to the brim with joy, that illuminating flash of her teeth and bulge of her cheeks and the scrunch of her eyes. Idiot, he thought again as his lungs spasmed in his chest, the fungi digging deep into his cells to bloom cherry blossoms in the dark. This is why you’re dying. 

Yet it felt like he was dying without her, in the moments alone when the nights closed in and he wheezed in his dark room and sweaty bed sheets that were tangled around his legs from fitful, painful sleep. He was dying all the time, so he might as well die within the reach of the light of his life, rather than alone in the dark. 

A flower alone in a patch of light with the shadows closing in, clinging to every last sunbeam it can before the darkness finally washes over it and causes it to wither slowly, painfully, tortuously… Yet for every second he would rage, rage against the dying of the light, until he drew his last ragged breath. 

Because in the light, Ochako bloomed.

Enjoy this story? Here’s the next chapter! Please consider perusing my Table of Contents.

[olivyh]

Into Wonderland Chapter 1: Heartslabyul Part One

Mc wakes up to the sound of panicked footsteps running towards them full force, followed by low murmuring. Before they can open their eyes, they're met with a kick to the stomach, which makes them jolt up and cry out.

"What the-" They start, wincing as they hold their hand over their ribs, which are sure to bruise in due time.

"I'm sorry!" A young boy their age scrambles to their side, large rabbit ears drooping down his back in embarrassment. The boy's face is flushed as he fusses over the person he just tripped over, pausing and frantically shuffling his hands around his checkered uniform. Hos dark blue hair is a mess, and the spade that covers one of his eyes is smudged around the edges, with some of it dragging towards the side of his head.

"I-" Mc begins, staring at the boy's ears as they perk up as he swears under his breath.

"Where is it?!" He whisper yells in a panicked frenzy.

"W-wait!" Mc calls out, standing and trying to get the boy attention. "Where am I?" He crawls around the small patch of grass that they lay in, ignoring them and patting the ground until his hand lays on a bronze pocket watch that ticks ominously. He whimpers as he stares at it.

"I-I'm late!" He yells, scrambling and running towards a path that opened in front of them.

"Wait! Late for what?!" Mc yells, chasing after the rabbit boy and swearing when they realize how fast he is compared to them. "Please! Just tell me where I am!" They chase after him, tripping and falling into a large hole in the ground.

They let out a shrill scream, closing their eyes and bracing for an impact that doesn't come. Slowly, they crack open an eye, staring at the objects that float past them.

"Seriously..." They groan. "What is this place...?" They cross their arms and huff, tapping some of the objects that hover in the air, making them spin and click. They finally hit the ground with a soft thud, making them wince as they roll over onto their side, which in reality ends up making them land on their head, which flips to put them back into their feet. They swallow down the nausea that threatens to rise, hearing a familiar voice from down the hall.

"Mr. Rabbit!" They yell, dashing through the checkered hallway when they see the familiar head of navy hair. The boy turns a corner and sprints through a door, slamming it behind him.

"Wait!" They call after him, not stopping in time and slamming their face into the door. They groan and rub their forehead, offering a weak, half-assed, annoyed sob to leave their lips. "Really! The nerve!" They huff.

They grab the handle, screaming when it sneezes as their hand makes contact. "How rude!" The door chides.

"Listen, I'm very, very sorry about grabbing your face but I desperately need to find that rabbit!" They plead. The door huffs, rolling its eyes.

"Why, if you wanted to get through there, you can just shrink!" The knob exclaims. Mc rolls their eyes, catching sight of a small tart that lay on the ground. Reading the tag, which says 'eat me', they decide to take a small bite, savoring the taste as they feel themselves shrink smaller and smaller. They yelp as they drop the treat.

Groaning, they stand and approach the doorknob, placing their hands on their hips expectantly.

"Can I go in now?" They ask.

"You need the key! I'm locked, unfortunately..."

"No, I'm not doing this right now." They wait for the doorknob to explain what it means, then takes the opportunity to leap through it's open mouth.

Landing in a wide sea, they choke and gasp as they reach the surface, waves slamming against the side of their head. In the distance, they spot a small island. They decide to swim towards it, the waves pulling and pushing them to and from their destination. They finally land on the island, soaked to the bone and out of breath.

"Is that all you got?" A voice booms with laughter. Mc looks up to find themselves face to face with a very large, scary, muscular man.

"Keep going, children!" The man yells as a wave blasts the students with... wow, more animal ears, huh.

"Mister Vargas please..." One of the students groans, only to be pushed ahead by another one behind him.

"Nonsense! How else are you supposed to get this swole?!" He's met with tired groans. Mc is pushed into the circle, trying to speak with the man before being hit by another wave of water. Before they can get their feet back on solid ground, they feel a pair of cold hands pull them back into the sea.

"Hey! Wait!" They yell, fighting against their captors. The being just laughs gleefully, pulling them along the current until they get to the shore. The man throws them onto the sand roughly, making them cough and sputter.

"What-" They choke on more sand. "What the hell was that for?!"

The man- peeks out from the water, teal and black hair floating next to him as a long tail splashes behind him.

"Hm? You looked like you were having fun and I wanted to have fun too!" The man giggles again. Another head peeks out of the water, smiling ominously. Mc yelps and jolts back, hitting their head against the rock that was behind them.

"T-there's two!" They yell.

"Fufufu... of course there's two. We're twins." The quieter one comments.

"Mhm! Always have been, always wil be..." The other one laughs again, pulling at Mc's feet.

"I wonder how these work-" He mutters until they squirm out of his grasp, before his claws can dig into their skin.

"That is, unless we get eaten like those poor oysters we saw the other day-" The twin with the hair on the left side of his face comments.

The other twin groans. "That wasn't fair at all! I wanted to get to them first! We were waiting for them to grow up so they'd be more tasty! Impatient walrus..." He huffs, sinking into the water so only his downslanted eyes were staring at the human in front of them. Their golden eyes seem to glow, sending a shiver down the human's spine.

"I really, really need to go- as much as I'd like to hear about oysters." They mutter under their breath.

"Aww," The touchier twin whines. "But it was just getting interesting~"

The other twin chuckles. "Patience Floyd, they'll be back very soon."

Like hell I will, The human thinks, crawling up towards the woods that lined the shore. They walk until they find a small cottage, hearing the same rabbit yelling something.

"Mom?" The rabbit yells, running past Mc on the footpath. "Mom!" He yells again.

"There you are!" Mc tries to grab a hold of him but he ends up being too quick, making them slip and fall. They follow him into the house, praying that there's no police in this weird world.

"Mom! Where'd you go?" The boy continues to yell, walking back out the door and inspecting the garden.

Mc notices a sticky substance on the leg and they look down, jolting when they see red seeping through their light blue clothing.

"Seriously? Now?" The groan, opening their pocket and pulling out the tart, completely forgetting what it had done to them before and taking a bite. This time, they jump as they begin to grow, pushing the furniture that lay around the house out of the way as they struggle to move.

The rabbit boy in the garden turns and screams upon seeing the giant human in his house.

"Help!" He yells, running in the opposite direction. "Help! Monster!"

"Monster?!" Mc exclaims, trying to wriggle out of the house. The boy comes back not too long later, pulling behind him a small cat-raccoon looking animal with flames in his ears.

"Grim, this is the monster I was telling you about..." The boy's voice shakes, as he walks the cat through his gates.

"And I'm the monster..." They groan.

"Hmm... have you tried telling it to leave?" The cat sniffs at Mc's hand, making them twist to try to get away from it.

"No...!? What makes you think that's gonna work?!" The boy yells, fists clenched at his sides.

"Well, we could always set it on fire?" The cat suggests. The boy jumps as it lets out a breath, setting the corner of the house ablaze in a bright blue flame.

"What?! No!" The rabbit boy yells. Mc nods and tries to blow at the fire, hyperventilating a bit as the fore starts to spread dangerously close to their thigh.

"What he said! Stop!" They plead. "I just need to get back to my normal size!"

"Normal...?" The bunny boy repeats, smacking his forehead when something clicks. "You're the person I tripped over this morning!"

"Yes!" Did it really take him that long? They think bitterly. "Now please! Help me shrink again!" The boy panics, looking back to his garden. He sprints to where the carrots lay and throws them towards Mc, many of them smacking them in the fave before falling to the ground.

"Quick! Eat one of these!" The boy yells as the cat continues to fan the flames at the base of the house.

Mc does as told and shrinks, plummeting to the ground, weighed down by the carrot they're still holding. They scream, before landing in a gloved palm.

"Woah..." The boy inspects them, holding them up by their collar and shaking them off the carrot. They grumble and kick, falling flat back onto the boy's palm. "I didn't think that would actually work..."

"Oh..." Mc mumbles. "Well, thank you for that. Now, how do I go home?"

"Home?" The boy repeats, looking as if he forgot something. He yelps and almost drops Mc, making them cling to his pinky as he runs over to the cat. He casts a spell, causing a small raincloud to appear above the fire.

"Hey!" The cat growls. "I was tryin' to help ya, yanno!"

"The monster is gone!" The boy yells, running a hand through his navy blue hair in frustration. In doing so, he knocks Mc off his hand and they fall to the ground, crashing into a large puddle created by the raincloud.

"Rabbit!" They yell before going underwater, swept down the path by the small creek that had been created. "Rabb-" Their words are muffled by water as they're swept onto a small patch of dirt.

"Now what is this?" A voice calls, and Mc feels themselves be picked up by the back of their shirt once again. They yelp, swinging out of the person's grasp, before opening their eyes to see the most beautiful man they had ever seen, wearing a cape made of flower petals.

"Oh! How splendid!" Another flower grabs them from his grasp, holding them at arms length and spinning them around, making them dizzy. "A new addition to our garden!"

"Not quite- they're not much to look at," The other flower states bitterly, lips pursing into a frown.

"I think they're pretty-" Another smaller flower speaks up from behind the mean flower.

"Quiet, Epel."

"Oh! How delightful! This is so exciting!" The tallest flower continues to exclaim, grabbing Mc by the hand and twirling. "What a peculiar scent! And those petals don't look like petals at all!"

That makes the smallest boy tense. "Could they be-"

"A weed!" The beautiful man fumes, face turning a light red. "How disgraceful!"

"Mon dieu!" The man drops them on the ground with a thud. They wince as he backs away to join the other two.

"I am not a weed! I'm a human!" Mc yells. "I don't belong here at all!"

"Oh? You're the one telling us that?" The beautiful flower strides towards them. "You come down here, bringing with you a flood that destroys the careful arrangements we've been working on, then interrupt our chorus practice-" The man pauses and takes a breath, going back to his regal manner. He pushes Mc down the path.

"Gone with you!" He yells. He can hear chides and similar grumblings among the other flowers in the garden as they're pushed out if the garden. When they regain their balance and turn to fave the flowers, they turn to yell at the flowers before one of them is launched at them, exploding in their face.

They stand up straight and sputter, spitting out the pollen that had exploded out of the stem arrow. "How rude!" They yell. A small voice calls out to them from the bushes. They turn to see the smaller flower, his purple hair petals poking out from the dark green leaves.

"I'm sorry about them. I think you're cool- weed or not. I know someone who can help you get back to normal, if you'd like-" Mc nods, rushing towards the boy as he explains of a caterpillar who lives not too far from the garden. They thank him and go on their way, pushing through the thick leaves, only to be met with a puff of smoke to the face.

They cough as a deep voice calls out to them. "Who are you?"

"I-I'm-" They cough out, peeking an eye open to see a man with a large fur coat and split dyed hair, lounging on a mushroom and smoking something out of a pipe. They watch in awe as the smoke forms the shapes of small dogs, yipping and jumping over one another.

"I'm Mc," They announce, and the man look at them suspiciously.

"No, who are you?"The man grumbles, taking another smoke from the pipe.

"I just answered!"

"No, you didn't, little pup." The man chides. He sighs, sitting up straighter and looking down at the scared human with a sadistic smile. "You're a human aren't you?"

"Yes! That's exactly right!" They smile, glad that someone finally understood their situation somewhat.

"You're very lost. That's unfortunate," The man gracefully falls off the mushroom, walking away from the human.

"Wait! Can't you help me?" They call out.

"Help is on the left, pup," The man calls from behind him.

"Left? There's no path here..." They search around them, twisting and craning their neck to find what the caterpillar was talking about.

The man groans in annoyance, turning dramatically and pointing his pipe towards the mushroom. "It's on the left, dear," Their mouth forms an 'o' shape as it clicks in their mind and they smile and nod, making the man's lip quirk up in a smirk. "Good doggy."

With that, the man disappears in a cloud of smoke. Mc stares at the mushroom, yanking a chunk off of it and falling flat to the ground.

"Ow..." They rub their back as they stare at it, taking a small bite. They feel themselves begin to grow again, this time to normal size. They carefully tiptoe through the garden, despite still being annoyed at the flowers for throwing them out. Despite that, they don't want to kill them. After all, the kind purple flower was with them.

They walk along the dirt path, looking around anxiously as they hear someone humming. The voice travels from side to side of the path, until it eventually lands right in their ear. They let out a yelp, jumping back as the boy next to them snickers.

"H-hey!?" They scream, covering their ears and backing away from the catboy.

"Goodbye to you too, dearie~" The boy hums, disappearing before making only his head reappear in a tall tree. His messy purple hair seems to float around him as he stares down at them with a lazy smile.

"What? Okay never mind that part I just- I really, really need to get home and so far nobody has been of any help and-"

"Hmm? Help you say?" The boy hums, tapping his feet in the air behind him.

"Yes! Please!" They exclaim. "How do I get home?!" The cat thinks for a minute, before giggling at their desperation.

"Hmm... methinks mew could find a way. That is, if mewthinks you can survive~" The cat snickers, hanging upside down off the branch.

"S-survive?!" They yelp, a chill running down their spine. "Survive what?"

"Why, the little red tyrant, of course!"

"Little red tyrant...?" Mc repeats, knitting their eyebrows.

"The Queen of Hearts, of course!" The cat howls in laughter, still dangling off the branch.

"How do I get to her?"

"To him."

"To him. Right. Respect pronouns, Mc." They mutter that last part.

"Well just follow this path~!" The cat hums, his tail pointing towards a bright path that points down behind them. "A skip and a jump and a dance later and mew'll find your way!" He giggles, using his tail to tease the human before fading away, a song disappearing on his lips as he vanishes

"Weird..." Mc utters, walking down the path the boy pointed them towards. They can hear things clicking together and loud laughter and singing from a distance. They decide to follow it and find themselves at a small tea party, housing only three people circulating around the long table.

"Happy unbirthday!" The head of the table yells gleefully, snapping a few pictures of the table. The other redhead at the table laughs loudly into his cup, dropping it and opting for a new one.

"It's always a happy unbirthday!" The boy with the heart over his eye wheezes between laughs, making the man with the hat laugh even harder, dropping the tart he'd been eating into his tea. This makes the man howl even louder, clutching his chest as his ginger hair falls out of his large tophat.

The other man at the table sits uncomfortably. Mc looks and recognizes his shaggy blue hair.

"Rabbit!" They yell. The boy sees them and smiles, waving them over. They walk over to him and sit in the seat next to him, wary about the eyes of the other two boys on them.

"I've been trying to escape from them for twenty minutes now! Riddle is going ti have my head!" He whispers in a panic. Mc nods as the other two leap over to their side.

"Is it your unbirthday as well?" The orange haired boy with a diamond under his eye asks, tilting his head and pouring them a cup of tea.

"I- unbirthday?" They ask.

"Do you really not know what an unbirthday is?" The redhead laughs, slamming his hand to his face and smudging the heart on his eye. "Dummy!"

Mc's face lights up a bright red in embarrassment, and the rabbit pats their back comfortingly.

"Be nice Ace!" He yells at the redhead, who sticks his tongue out.

"Stop being such a suck up, Deuce!"

Ignoring the other two's bickering, the ginger sits next to the human, explaining the unbirthday. "You see, the day you're born is your birthday- every other day is your unbirthday!"

"Well, then it's my unbirthday too!" Mc smiles, relaxed by the hatters comforting vibe.

"Thats such a coincidence! It's mine too! I need to tell my followers this! Smile~!" They're blinded for a second by the bright light of a camera before they go back to the two rabbit boys arguing.

"You're always late!" Ace yells at the navy haired boy, whose ears flop against his head as his face flushes a bright red.

"I wouldn't be any more if you didn't break my pocketwatch!" He yells.

"Wait- late for what?" Mc interrupts, cutting off Ace before he can make the situation worse.

"The Queen has a croquet match today!" Deuce says, sighing. "And I was supposed to introduce the opponents-"

[cultum]

// four am thoughts go brrrr

keep meaning to write out a big long thing about how kyrril actually views sex and why hes so kinda unpredictable about how he responds to things but like its so many thoughts and so many different contributing factors that it would be an actual fucking essay 

its like. if youre not close to him in some way. and he agrees to have sex with you. then he does not respect you as a person. which sounds harsh because it is. he has a really hard time making his head accept that sex and respect Can in fact exist in the same place at the same time, but hes working on it.

he correlates it more with. transactions? and obligation. Political and hollow. alternian society has expectations and having a pretty face comes with attention and while he might not want to screw around it has it’s uses in a society so focused on quadrants and population growth and the like. 

hes just so [clenches fist] aggressively demisexual but has not once had the forethought or resources to actually sit back and examine/accept that about himself?

he’s working through it though. exposure to just the wild variance of folks on tumblr has helped and so has loom and his friends has kind of broadened his thought processes and he’s. yanno. had some very much Positive experiences with intimacy under specific circumstances that have him kind of reexamining how he views the idea of sex, if not as a whole, then when it comes to certain people.

BOUNDARIES are a big thing for him lately in that hes realizing its fun to not only Have them but insist they be respected even if he thinks he could get something he wants out of a situation if they Weren’t There.

Anyway the tldr is that he’s got a long history of forcing himself FAR outside his comfort zone if he sees an opportunity for personal gain and hes lately realizing thats kind of not the healthiest thing to do maybe?

[nuttyrabbit]

Words That We Couldn’t Say

I wrote this drabble a while back, but seeing as the Lady Luck post is finally out there and viewable, I feel now is finally the right time to post this.  It’s kinda crappy, but I’m still proud of  it

This drabble takes place after the end of the dynamic and as far as I’m concerned, is 100% canon. As usual, everything is under the readmore

Words that We Couldn't Say

"Hey, I brought ya somethin'. I thought ya might 'ppreciate this"

The figure stood alone on the chilly autumn afternoon, seemingly talking to nobody in particular, a soft yet somber grin plastered onto his face. A soft breeze allowed some leaves to dance across the sparse grass, the sun hiding behind a soft layer of gray clouds.   In his hands lay two glasses filled to the brim with an amber liquid, complemented by some small cubes of frozen water. He set one of them down in front of him before continuing. "Figured ya hadn't had one in a while anyways. 'Sides, been a while since we last talked anyways, hasn't it" There is a slight pause as he looks down and to the side, as if he's reaching for something he cannot quite grasp at, a pause that is soon broken.

"Yanno somethin', I 'member hearin' from some fuckin sap a while back, I'm talkin way fuckin back, before alla this, anyways, I 'member talkin' ta him, just shootin' tha shit, when he starts talkin bout his father, bout his fuckin daddy issues, and he's gettin real fuckin sappy bout alla this, and keep in mind, this dude looks like a fuckin brick shithouse, I'm talkin as big as a fuckin barn'" he gesticulates to emphasize its size. "Anyways, he's talkin bout alla this shit I don''t fuckin care bout, but he ends this fuckin sob story by talkin' bout his dad on his deathbed or some shit, and how he regrets not tellin' him that he loved em before he bit tha big one an' regrets all tha shit he didnt tell his old man." He turns away for a second, closing his crimson eyes and taking a deep breath and a small sip from the glass before  turning back.

"At tha time I thought it was total bullcrap, how tha fuck ya gonna regret not sayin shit ta some asshole? Who'd stop themselves from sayin whatever tha hell was on their mind, it sounded so fuckin dumb." He lets out a small chuckle, looking down "Who coulda figured I'd only understand what he was sayin' now? It's like some sorta fuckin joke, onna them 'dramatic ironees or whatever they called it."

He takes another sip from the glass, hoping that the amber liquid could give him the chutzpah to say what knew he had to say.

"It's funny innit? Ya spend all yer time doin an' sayin' everythin' that came to yer mind tha instant it did, ya didn't care what anyone thought a ya, maybe that's why we got on so fuckin' good. Ya just got it, ya just undastood how it all worked, ya were tha only fuckin' person that ever fuckin' understood it all.....understood me even...fuckin better than I knew myself 'parrently."

"But ya know what? I still don't fuckin get it" the weasel looks towards the gray skies, as if they would somehow open up with a brilliant shine and give him clarity "Why'd ya stick by me? Even after alla that, even when I did everythin' I fuckin could ta get ridda ya, even after everythin' I said, ya just stuck by me with that stupid fuckin smile a yers. Were ya tryin' ta use me fer somethin'? Were ya tryin' ta get me ta care? Cause if so.....heh...." his head dipped, before returning to the skies and then back in front of him. "Ya fuckin got me there"

He took a deep sigh, he knew he was dodging the elephant in the room...well...not the room but ya know what he means.  He leered all around him, making sure he was the only soul there thrice over. He finally, finally, looked down. Well, no use in hidin' it anymore.  He chugs what remains of his glass before putting it down next to the other, still full, glass

"God, I fuckin' miss you Carebear, I miss ya so fuckin' much. Ya were the only fuckin' person I ever gave half a fuckin' shit 'bout" His hands clench into fists as they begin to uncharacteristically tremble, the weasel  trying so desperately, so fucking pathetically, to hang on to what remained of his pride and dignity, his grin faltering as he clenched his teeth, closing his eyes to try and hold it all back.

"I........I loved ya Carebear, I fuckin' loved ya, there, I fuckin' said it, ya happy now Carebear? Ya fuckin' finally got me ta say it loud and goddamn clear, bear my fuckin soul to tha fuckin void. Ya...ya were my best- my only friend and..and I'm fuckin sorry I never told ya before." His fists clench tighter when he finally admits it, something he  thought  he would never say because he would never need to say it. His eyes slowly reopen  as they begin to glow, a small, warm smirk  creeping onto his face as....something gathers in the corner of his eyes, something he desperately tries to ignore. 

 "And...and ya know what Carebear? It's so fuckin funny, 'spite alla this, alla tha shit you an' I went through, I'd fuckin do all of it again, every last fuckin bit of it, no regrets" He rubs his arm across his eyes, looking down at it to find several small wet patches. A small heh could be heard as he puts his arm back down. "Heh, guess that took a lot more than I fuckin' realized." he mutters to himself.   He turns around, beginning to walk away but not before turning to look back one last time, his usual toothy grin plastered ear to ear like nothing had happened

"An' ya know what? I gave em hell Carebear, I gave them all hell."

With that, he turns his head back forward and continues to walk away, his hands in his pockets.  Behind him, with two small glasses in front of it, lies a single gravestone with a simple inscription

Carey Jess

A Life Fully Lived

[katedoesfics]

The Lost Hero | Chapter 1

12 Years Later…

Dahvi’s lips pulled into a wicked sneer. He thrust the spear up before him threateningly, but the man only laughed.

“What are you, ten?”

“Thirteen,” Dahvi hissed.

This only caused the man to laugh harder. “Oh, kid. You don’t have a clue, do ya? Try as you might, but you ain’t gettin’ into that city, either.”

Dahvi twirled the spear confidently and let it set at his foot. He put a hand on his hip and grinned. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” The man crossed his arms. “Men aren’t allowed in that city. That goes for little rats like you, too.”

Dahvi shrugged one shoulder, then turned and marched toward the city gates. He let his spear rest on his shoulder as he strode passed the two guards, glancing over his shoulder briefly to see the look of shock on the Hylian man’s face. He snickered to himself, then broke into a run through Gerudo City, his bare feet slapping against the warm cobblestone roads.

It was early in the morning, but the air was already hot and the streets lively as vendors busied themselves with their shops and goods. A few female tourists had already arrived, stepping out of their hotel rooms or coming in through the main gates to get their hands on the precious Gerudo goods before they sold out.

The shop keepers barked at Dahvi as he darted between them, and some of the tourists gave the boy dirty looks, but he ignored them as he ran through the city. Riju was there somewhere, and he would be damned if she got away from him again.

Dahvi didn’t slow until he reached one of the narrow alleyways. The height of the buildings on either side provided just enough shade to help cool him for a moment, and he held his breath as he listened. He was sure he had heard her unmistakable giggle. Riju was known to play mind games with him. Like him, she was fast and nimble, and despite her mother’s scoldings, she scaled the buildings with ease, taking to the roof tops.

He heard her giggle once more. A flash of red caught his attention, and he turned his gaze to the roof just in time to see her braided red hair disappear from the edge. He gripped the spear between his teeth and jumped on top of a nearby crate. He shoved his toe into a crack in the stone and proceeded to climb, pulling himself up over the edge and onto the roof just as Riju was jumping the gap over the alleyway and onto the next roof.

With spear in hand, Dahvi quickly followed behind her, leaping over the gap and landing lightly on his feet. He chased Riju over the rooftops and across the city, ignoring the angry shouts from the Gerudo women below, and back toward the palace. Riju splashed through the waterways, rounding the corner and rushing passed two guards, nearly knocking them to their feet. As Dahvi came around the corner, they reached toward him, eager to stop the child in his tracks, but Dahvi easily dodged them and continued his pursuit.

Riju bounded across the next waterway, scaling another wall with ease, and continued to leap from rooftop to rooftop until she reached the outwater wall of the city. She dropped down into the sandpit where the city’s sandseals napped in the sun and quickly jumped onto the back of one of them, taking the reins and coaxing the lazy creature forward.

Dahvi followed without hesitation, throwing himself onto the closest sand seal and following Riju out of the city and into Gerudo Desert. He urged his sand seal faster until they caught up to Riju, causing her to shout in surprise. They pushed their sand seals faster still, racing west across the desert until they reached the home of Divine Beast Vah Naboris. Only then did they allow their sand seals to slow as the machine towered above them, sitting quietly in the heat of the desert.

“Nice try, Vi,” Riju said as she jumped off her sand seal. She put her hands on her hips and grinned at him. “But you’ll never catch me.”

Dahvi got off his own sand seal and patted its thick neck. “I wasn’t trying very hard,” he said simply.

Riju scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right,” she said. “Just face it; you’ll never be one of us.”

“I’m starting to think you’re not Gerudo, either,” he said narrowly. “You’re so short.”

“Shut up!” Riju barked at him. She grabbed a fistful of sand and hurled it at him, but it only sifted through her fingers and blew away in the light breeze.

“Uh oh,” Dahvi started. “Shorty’s mad.”

Riju’s fists clenched at her sides. “I’m not short!”

But Dahvi ignored her and began climbing Vah Naboris. Riju muttered below, but quickly followed suit, eager to beat him to the top. It took a few minutes of careful navigation, but they scaled the beast quickly and easily and soon found themselves seated atop Vah Naboris, looking out over the vast Gerudo Desert and toward Central Hyrule.

“Maybe I’m short,” Riju said after a moment. “But I’m Mom’s favorite.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

Dahvi shrugged one shoulder. “Well, yeah. She’s your mom, not mine.”

Riju frowned. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said softly.

“I know.”

“I don’t care what anyone says,” Riju said. “You’re my brother.”

Dahvi’s lips pulled into a small, crooked smile. “That sucks.”

Riju grinned and shoved his shoulder. “Shut up, Vi!”

But Dahvi’s smile quickly faded as he looked back out over Hyrule.

“What’s wrong?” Riju asked.

“Nothing,” Dahvi said quickly, then sighed. “I just… don’t belong here.”

Riju frowned. “Yes, you do.”

“I don’t,” he said sharply. “How much longer until Urbosa kicks me out?”

“Vi,” Riju started softly. “She wouldn’t do that to you. You’re family. Gerudo or not, she took you in and she raised you. She wouldn’t kick you out.”

“But I don’t belong,” he insisted. “I’m a Voe, Riju. And I’m not a kid anymore.” His voice lowered. “I’ve heard what they say about me.”

“Shut up,” Riju said through her teeth. “You’re still a kid. No one’s kicking you out, alright?”

Dahvi remained quiet, unconvinced. He was well aware of the laws of the city. Urbosa could not continue to bend the rules just for him. And he knew she wasn’t simply training him in the ways of the Gerudo, but preparing him for a life on his own in Hyrule where he belonged.

He fingered the amulet in his pocket. He had had it for as long as he could remember. It was the only connection he had to his family, though he knew nothing about what the amulet meant. And whenever he inquired about it with Urbosa, she always said the same thing. “You had it on you when we found you as a baby. We hoped we could use it to find your family, but we had no such luck. No one seems to know what it means.”

A part of him sensed that she wasn’t being completely truthful with him; that she did in fact know something about it. He could only assume that up until then, he would have been too young to understand the truth. He had given up on pestering her about it; about his past. But perhaps it was time to bring it to her attention once more. Besides, if he was going to be kicked out of the city, he needed somewhere to go, and some clue as to who he really was.

“Why does it bother you so much?”

Dahvi glanced at Riju. Her brows were furrowed together as she studied him.

“Hm?”

“That thing,” Riju said, indicating the amulet in his pocket.

He played with it a lot as a child and talked to Riju about it, but as they got older, it was clear to him that it only made her upset, and he never took it out since.

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“You’re going to ask Mom about it again.”

She knew him too well. He shrugged.

“Look. I’m not trying to be insensitive and all, but whether you like it or not, this is who you are. An adopted Gerudo. Can’t you be happy with that? Not many Voe can say they can hang out with us, yanno. You should feel honored that Mom took you in. This is who you are. This is your family. Stop dwelling on something you don’t even know. That’s not your life. This is.”

Dahvi’s brows knit together. “You talk too much, you know that?”

Riju got to her feet and put her hands on her hips. “I’m insulted that we’re not good enough for you. You dumb Hylians always think you’re better than everyone else.”

“That’s not true,” Dahvi muttered. “Knock it off.”

“You should be grateful that Mom found you before those Yiga did.”

“Maybe,” Dahvi said as he got to his feet. “But if they did, I wouldn’t have to deal with you.”

Riju smirked and folded her arms. “Your life would be incomplete without me.”

Dahvi moved to the edge of Vah Naboris and peered over. “Maybe the Rito could have found me.”

“And do you think that would magically give you wings?”

“It would be nice.”

“Unfortunately, you gotta use those two legs of yours like the rest of us.” Riju climbed over the side and began the climb back down. “Last one to the city has to clean seal shit!”

*****

To Riju’s dismay, their mother was waiting for them in the sand pit when they returned, her arms folded across her chest and a brow raised.

“So,” she started as Riju and Dahvi dismounted their seals. “How did your lessons go today?��

“Oh, you know,” Riju started. “We learned things.”

“Is that so?” Urbosa said, a grin pulling at her lips. “So, you weren’t running across the rooftops again?”

Riju shook her head. “Negative, Ma’am.”

Urbosa nodded. “Must have been a different short Gerudo child and her Hylian brother.”

Riju shook her head. “Definitely,” she said. “You know how those Hylian boys are. Nothing but trouble!”

Dahvi muttered under his breath and rolled his eyes when Riju grinned at him.

“Go clean up, Riju,” Urbosa said, dismissing her daughter.

Riju met Dahvi’s gaze for a moment, her eyes narrowing, before she jogged out of the sandpit and into the city.

“I have to make a trip into Hyrule tomorrow,” Urbosa started. “Into the city. I thought you might like to come along and meet Princess Zelda. She’s around your age.”

“You thought I’d like to leave the desert and see what the rest of Hyrule is like? See what other Hylians are like?”

Urbosa frowned. “Dahvi -”

“Maybe you’d like to pawn me off on someone. Force me to be with my own people, because I don’t belong here. I can’t stay here much longer, can I?”

“Dahvi -”

“The way I see it, I don’t really belong anywhere.”

“That’s enough,” Urbosa said sharply. “What has gotten into you?”

Dahvi lowered his gaze. “Sorry,” he muttered, then huffed in exasperation. 

Urbosa hesitated. She, too, pulled her gaze away. “Vi,” she started. “I’m… sorry, too. You’re not wrong. I thought it would be good for you to see more of Hyrule and have a chance to meet other people like you.” She turned her attention back to him and her voice hardened. “But I am not pawning you off on anyone, do you understand?” When Dahvi met her gaze, her voice softened. “Gerudo City is your home, Dahvi. You will always have a home here, no matter what.”

“You can’t keep bending the rules for me,” Dahvi muttered. “I’m not a child anymore. You can’t treat me like I am. I know what the laws are, here. I know Voe are not allowed, and I am a Voe.”

“That may be,” Urbosa started. “But Gerudo or not, you are family. You are just as much my son as Riju is my daughter. Besides, you know that Gerudo Voe do exist. Every one hundred years, a Gerudo boy is born into -”

“But I am not Gerudo,” Dahvi said. “No matter what you say.”

Urbosa was quiet for a moment as she regarded him. “What do you want to do, Vi?”

Dahvi fingered the amulet in his pocket once more and tore his gaze away from Urbosa. “I don’t know,” he said softly. It was the truth. He was torn; torn between wanting to stay in Gerudo City and the life he knew, and wanting to go out into the world and embrace who he really was. He knew the laws in Gerudo City were strict; he was no exception to those laws, no matter how hard Urbosa wanted it. And the older he got, the clearer it became. He didn’t want to be the reason for discourse among the Gerudo. But for a while, he belonged there. He didn’t know if he would ever belong with the Hylians.

“You are much too young to worry about this now,” Urbosa said softly. “In time, we will discuss it. But you will not be kicked out of the city and abandoned, do you understand me? When the time comes, the choice to leave will be yours. But I cannot keep you locked up here in the city, either. I’ve taught you everything I could, but now I think it may be in your best interest to learn about the rest of Hyrule. Only with knowledge can you make an informed decision on how you wish to live your life. But if you’re not ready, I will not force you.”

Dahvi met Urbosa’s gaze. He knew she only wanted what was best for him. He believed her words. Not once had she abandoned him. And she was probably right; he couldn’t ignore the rest of the world forever. He couldn’t ignore who he was. That was what he wanted after all, wasn’t it? To see Hyrule? To meet other Hylians? Urbosa wasn’t throwing him to the mercy of the world; she was giving him a choice. And a part of him felt it was his duty to do this; not only to himself, but for the Gerudo. Someday, he would need to leave Gerudo City. He should know what Hyrule was like before that day came.

[thefandomcassandra]

How about a little something about my sweet son Beverly Toegold V? Or maybe Gorgug? I love my son's so you pick or don't pick!

Considered it and decided on both.

I'm easy to please and by easy I mean I just love both these boys so much.

---

Once, Hardwon asked the two of them what doing magic felt like. "Not that I'm, yanno, interested in learning or anything," he bluffed, scoffing and thumbing his nose, "but like, having done R. Cane I was wondering if it was different for you."

Moonshine took almost no time in answering. "It's like y'reach into the earth and it reaches back. Like breathing in, but the breath is magic n'the exhalin' is, yanno, doin' magic?"

But for Bev it's different and harder to put into words.

How does he explain that he reached out and asked for help? That his magic was borrowed? That he prayed and light filled his body with warmth and power and then he asked it to do what he needed?

Moonshine seemed to note that her magic was a redirection of what already existed. That she just moved the mud from one bucket to another, as it were. But it was so difficult to conceptualize doing that. Telling his magic to do something.

Pelor, he would ask, please allow me to heal. Pelor, he would beg, please allow me to stop my friend from getting hurt. Pelor, he would call, please allow me to destroy this enemy that would wish us ill.

The magic is in him, but it is not his and this is not a bad thing but but but—

The smallest, most childish part of him is worried that they'll think it is. That he is less because he asks and borrows.

"My magic is warmth and Pelor's grace," he settles on. It's not a lie. It's not the truth. A happy grey. "It does as it's willed." Also true. Also a lie. Grey grey grey.

And they trust him.

And it's more a lie than the truth.

He can live on borrowed magic if it helps. Doesn't matter in the end. He can't take it with him anyway.

And his magic, warm and bright and borrowed, is a soft, light grey.

---

Gorgug knows anger. It's in his veins, in his lungs, in his bones. He knows the way it tightens his muscles and clenches his fists. He knows the way it seizes his breath and steals his words and darkens his vision.

He knows anger better than he knows himself. He fears it too.

It rests, like an alien, across his sternum. Clutches his collarbone and curls tendrils into the spaces between his ribs. It compresses until he gasps, not enough to kill, but enough for discomfort. It wraps around and up and across his ears and mouth and face. Digs its talons into his ears and screams and thrashes against his heart.

When he is angry, he moves slow and careful. If he isn't, the anger grabs him and he lashes out and hurts—himself, something, someone—and he can't have that. Careful. Careful. Slow steps, slow breaths, slow smiles. He shutters his heart and drains his face. Placid demeanour and blank eyes. If he hides his heart it can't catch, can't take, can't puppet. If he takes small steps, he can't run.

In battle that's harder but he knows he's best when he's with his friends. He knows they won't let him take it too far. He knows they'll catch and cage and drain.

And music, Zelda's music especially, helps. Anger, even not of his own, calms. Synergy. Sympathy. It feels, like he does, and the animal releases its hold on his form and he can be angry without being anger.

He knows anger.

And he knows he is not.

[chillassimagines]

Guide (John Young Smut)

(This is LENGTHY, John has like no smuts/imagines, so hopefully this starts it off on a good note)

(REQUESTED)

“I won’t endanger everyone like that, Y/N.” John stated bluntly, tossing through files on Jedikiah’s desk. You crinkled your brows together, focusing your super hearing on anything outside of the office.

“What do you mean? It’s a good idea, you know that Stephen is a genius.” He paused and looked up from the papers to give you a hard stare.

“If Stephen is such a genius maybe you should have him lead us.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Maybe I should.” You muttered and turned on your heel away from him. His sexy face annoyed the hell out of you.

“Stop pouting.” He ordered. His temper was going to reach the end of its fuse and you kind of didn’t mind. You were stubborn and so was he. You sat in an office chair and crossed your legs, tapping your foot in midair, keeping yourself from verbally attacking him. He carried on, searching for any information that may valuable. However, the darkness nighttime brought wasn’t proving to be an ally.

“Maybe should’ve brought a flashlight.” You couldn’t hold your spiteful tongue.

“Who suggested that? Your genius, Stephen?” He spoke in a clipped tone, not sparing you a glance.

“No, I actually have my own mind, yanno? You just never pay attention when I actually suggest other things. You’ll listen to your toy, Cara, though.” You let your voice fall off in your last sentence. John didn’t need super hearing to hear it though.

“You leave her out of this.” He demanded. He clenched his jaw in anger, defining his killer jaw. He looked so good when he was mad. Maybe that’s why you subconsciously always had the motive to piss him off.

“Why? You feel like you owe her your silence or something? It’s pretty obvious you guys used to fuck.” You shrugged.

“I don’t owe her a damn thing, but I respect her, so I won’t tolerate you talking shit.” He raised an eyebrow at you, daring you to challenge him.

“Yeah, it’s pretty obvious who you respect and who you don’t.” You directed your eyes to your nails. You heard shuffling before you looked up and he was standing in front of you.

“I respect women who know how to use their mouths, Y/N.” Your heart skipped a beat and you knew if there was water in your mouth you would have done a spit take. However, your mouth suddenly felt as dry as a deserted island. You gathered yourself suprisingly quickly, seizing the moment.

“I don’t know if I know how to do that quite yet, maybe you could solve our little problem?” John’s hand came to grip the back of your head as he leant down to crush your mouths together. You used his shoulders to pull yourself up from the chair and into his warm body. He hurriedly pushed you up against the wall, taking control of the situation.

“First, you need to be on your knees.” He whispered against your swollen mouth. You nodded, willing to please him immediately. You dropped to your knees, bringing the top of his pants and briefs down with you. “You look good like this.” John’s chest was heaving as he looked down at you.

“Bet I can look even better.” You ran your tongue along the underside of his cock, agonizingly slow. He hissed through his grinding teeth.

“C’mon, I know you can do better.” He pleaded. You wrapped your mouth around him and pushed your head forward, you hands gripping his legs for balance. John clenched his fists and you noticed he wasn’t sure of what he could do. You took his hand and led it to your head. The action made him thrust his length further into your mouth. You gladly accepted his lust and moved at a nice pace, not forgetting to use your tongue as well as following his hands’ movements.

“Y/N, can I cum?” He groaned out. This surprised you. You assumed he would take what he wanted and be dominant, but he asked. You gasped for air as you released his cock from your mouth.

“Of course you can.” You said sweetly. He bit his lip and dragged your lips back onto him. You hummed contently around him and hollowed out your cheeks so you would be squeezing him.

“Holy, sh-shit.” He thrusted sloppily into your mouth before sending his cum into your throat. You glided your tongue to the tip of his member before rising off of your knees. He rested his forehead onto yours, breathing hard still.

“Lay down.” John jumped, so that you were now in your bedroom and he was guiding you to your bed. You followed his orders and watched him kick off his bottoms and strip himself of his shirt before pulling down your bottoms as well. His fingers hooked into your purple panties before slowly dragging them down your legs. The anticipation only grew when he kissed the tops of your thighs.

“John...please.” You begged, wanting him to do anything to nourish the aching between your thighs. He smirked before nudging them apart to let him see you in all of your naked glory.

“You’re...really wet.” He spoke in awe of you. You fidgeted a bit and it snapped him out of it. He took his thumb and spread your pussy out wide and blew softly onto it. Your body responded in a shiver and you whimpered.

“I can’t take it.” You nearly didn’t say it out loud, but the guy was torturing you. He hummed against your thigh, pressing kisses up...up...

“Oh yes you can. You can take all I’m willing to give and I know it.” There’s the dominant side you knew you’d find. He extended his tongue of out his mouth and ran it up your lips slowly. You bucked your hips up, yearning for his wet tongue to stay with you.

“If you don’t do anything, John, I swear to god I’m gonna-oh-oh shit!” He sucked harshly on your clit suddenly, sending sparks into your tummy. He groaned into your heat and his eyes sparkled up at you. He dragged his tongue to your entrance and pushed it in and out at a fast pace. His fingers came up to your stomach, but slowly dragged down to your clit and he began his sweet assault on your bundle of nerves.

“Oh my god! That feels so good, please don’t stop.” You gasped, rambling pleas and whines of approval. John immediately removed his tongue from your entrance and began flicking his tongue on your clit. Your jaw dropped and your hips began rocking against his face and he didn’t seem to be bothered.

“I’m close, I’m so close, I promise.” You nearly squealed and you could tell he liked it, because he squeezed your ass and put your thighs around his head. He was drowning in you willingly. “Thank you.” You cried out as you reached your climax and locked your thighs around his head. You released him from your thighs’ death grip and he came up for air.

“You are certainly welcome, but I’m not done yet” Your eyes widened as he got on his knees on the bed and ran his hot member along your soaked lips. “You ready?” He asked. You nodded and grabbed his hand before he pushed all the way inside of you, bottoming out. He squeezed his eyes shut and grunted. “You’re so tight, you’re gonna make me cum too fast.”

“Well I’m not gonna wait around forever.” You smiled and he chuckled before pulling back and thrusting in again. As he set the pace he was using different angles until he hit your g-spot.

“You were trying to find it, weren’t you?” You gasped out in pleasure as he hit it again, confirming your suspicions. He brought his face to rest in the crook of your neck.

“Gotta find it if I’m gonna make you cum again.” He whispered hotly in your ear. He was a man with a mission and as his pace sped up you could tell he was getting close, but he wasn’t going to leave you hanging.

“Almost, John. Just a bit more.” You hissed in his ear before grasping onto his back as he snapped his hips into yours. He damn near growled, because he was teetering on the edge. He made one last final blow to your spot and it was game over.

~

“Did you learn how to use your mouth now?” John asked, looking at you in the mirror before placing a love bite on your neck.

“You’re a very good guide.” You responded with a grin and a laugh. He held your waist and didn’t let go.

“I’m keeping you, I hope you know that.” He whispered. You let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[laur-rants]

Fic Update: Wolfbann

Chapter 2 - With Fangs and Fury

Fandom: Dishonored Ship: [Eventual] Corvo/Daud, Past Jessamine/Corvo Rated: Mature Synopsis:MORE WEREWOLF AU. Corvo needs to stop being stuck in prison, so let’s fix that. After that, this is gonna get hella canon-divergent, friends. Notes: I changed the name because I now have a concrete idea of where the story is gonna go. Wolfssegner is now Wolfbann! Wolfssegner will appear as the title for a later installment. >w>

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Dunwall, the capital of Gristol in the Empire of the Isles, is ruled by a single major clerical body: the Abbey of the Everyman. Their main stance is simply the opposition of the Outsider, a figure which they believe resides in the Void and from which all chaos is born. Anything leading to or originating from the Outsider is deemed heretical; bonecharms and runes carved from whales, for example, are a sure sign of heretic activities. Bearing a mark, or a sigil tattoo, was another easy way to identify a follower of the Outsider.

And the presence of magic -- of the ability to disappear, possess or even change shape -- is the highest sign of Outsider influence, one to be eradicated immediately.

So Corvo Attano, for all the horrid joke his life has become, cannot understand why he's still alive.

It is a constant ache to continue to live. After he had… had changed, Burrows had done everything in his power to lock Corvo up, throwing him in his pit of a cell, muzzle on his face, kicked like a dog and fed only scraps to survive off of. He could feel his body lurch and spasm -- something under his skin sang and thrummed and wanted so desperately to come out -- but he would only get through half of a blissfully painful transformation before he was tackled, thrown against the wall, his weakened body forced to let go and recede. He would look up, his red and bleary eyes meeting those terrifying, glowing orbs, teeth bared and fur bristling as he pushed Corvo hard against the concrete.

“You are an abomination,” a voice would say, resonating in his head. “And you do not deserve to live.”

And yet, here he was, his weakened state still lingering, carrying the name of a bird, the body of a monster, still clinging to the desecrated life of a man.

He had heard the stories, of course, when he was a child. Of whales that grew fur in the moon and walked on land, of cursed humans forced to transform at night. They would howl and scream and do the bidding of the Outsider; his mother had warned him to stay clean and good, because if not he would join them, the Outsider's whale-wolves. But he had never really believed her: when he grew up, he learned the howls he had heard over the mountains were nothing more than real wolves, lost in the Serkonan jungles. And then in Dunwall, the howls were replaced with the barkings of the Overseer wolfhounds, and he forgot the stories of his childhood, even while raising a child of his own.

Now, he wished he had remembered and taken stock in the tales his mother had warned him of. And in that dank and dreary cell, starving and weak, he couldn't help but wonder what he had done to be cursed with the wrath of a god.

------

“Rise and shine, pit hound,” a gruff voice of a guard said from down the hall, filling his stomach with sickening dread. Corvo looked up and over, eyes trying to adjust as his nose instinctively -- so many things felt instinctive now, things he didn't understand yet and nobody was around to explain to him -- sniffed, the intake of breath giving more than his other senses ever could. There was the stench of the usual guard but another musk hung under that, one he didn't recognize. He narrowed his eyes, body tensing, fist clenching.

When the shadow of a guard passed over his door, he did not rise and he did not shine, much to the armed man's disappointment.

“You have a special visitor today,” he slurred out, amusement coloring his thick words. Corvo's head inclined, trying to get a better look at the man; was something wrong with him? He inhaled through his nose again and finally identified that heady, wooden, sharp stench-- alcohol. It had been a long time since Corvo himself had drank much more than a glass of Cullero Red, shared with the Empress at court, but wine was noticeably sweet, the blow of fermentation softened by the enticement of fruit. Whatever this man's feet was unsteady on, it was made.of much heavier stuff than a fruit of the vine.

Corvo took the time to look the man up and down, and the guard paid little attention to him in his liquored state. Instead, he hummed under his breath, beckoned a friend over, and started to undo the lock.

“Yanno,” he spilled out, and Corvo wrinkled his nose in response, the stench rolling off the guard now bordering offensive, which was saying something, given the state of his cell. Regardless, as the door swung open and the man staggered in, Corvo jumped to his feet, limbs already vibrating with alertness. But the guard ignored him, continuing with whatever he was doing, ignoring Corvo entirely.

“We figured -- me and the boys -- that leaving you here in like this is getting damn boring. A heretic wolf? Think of the entertaining possibilities…”

Corvo watched him, ready to jump out of his skin if needed, body itching-- but whatever excitement he was starting to build was dashed as a second guard hulked into view, blocking the entrance.

And by his feet stood a growling, snapping, snarling pit hound.

Corvo looked down at the dog just as the dog found him and suddenly, it was lurching against the leash, barking, jumping up to go for the throat.

“So we figured if you're gonna be treated like a pit hound, why not fight one?”

Corvo backed up just as the guard backed out, releasing his friend's dog on Corvo in his tiny cell.

Corvo's breath hitched as the large dog became a fury of fang and fur. Before Corvo could really move, long teeth sank into his arm, immediately drawing blood. His heart pounded in his ears, muffling the laughing of the guards, their drunken cheering, and something dark and deep in his chest begged to come out.

He pushed it down, to the best of his ability. He didn't want to give in, to transform, not because of a dog. But the hound was trained, relentless; its long jaws bit at him again and again, fur bristling as it tore chunks from Corvo's arm. He tried to pry it off, but the blood just ran away from its mouth and its jaws tightened, digging strong fangs in, refusing to let go.

The hound growled and pulled. The guards goaded and laughed. And from somewhere against that blur of pain and searing flesh, Corvo snarled.

He would later blame instinct. That unstoppable force driving him now, telling his body what to do, superseding his mind’s control. There was so much that was instinctual now--the way he snapped up rats that wandered too close, the way he went limp when the large grey wolf pinned him down, the way he sometimes sang, calling for someone anyone out there besides him.

The way his claws grew just to rip a dog off of his arm, sending it across the room in a bid to save his own life.

His body trembled and the growl rolled out of him as his back hunched and ears and fur and tail and muzzle all simultaneously sprouted. The dog whimpered where it hit the wall, but courage was bred into it; it growled and barked even as Corvo's frame grew, bulking out and shadowing the dog even as it lunged again for the thick fur growing on his neck. Corvo dropped to all fours, roaring and shaking as his body erupted, moving to throw the dog off again. His jaws snapped -- but they were nothing more than a blunt object against the protective cage of a muzzle that rendered his fangs useless.

But Corvo was only getting bigger -- and the muzzle wasn't growing with him. The leather against his head strained and pulled, and he shook his head again, an unearthly screech erupting out of him that gave even the trained pit hound pause.

Even as Corvo's mind fled, his body was vaguely still aware of the dog barking, lunging for his face once again. It's teeth connected with leather and pulled away; the stretched skin snapped against his face but the pressure finally released and relief filled him, his fangs flashing, jaws clashing, finding muscled bone as they close down and crunch .

The blood filled his mouth and washed hot over his tongue as the dog screamed, howling in pain. Instinct and energy coursed through Corvo and he bit down, again and again, relishing in the snap of bone, in his screaming prey, in his jaws causing a kill, the promise of food, of energy, of life, he could live with this, liveliveLIVE--

Shouts registered in his long, sound-sensitive ears, followed by the jingling of keys and tearful cries. Corvo turned, a rumble deep in his throat as he prepared to defend his prize, his prey, as a guard rushed the cell. He was so much smaller than Corvo now, who was finally --blessedly-- fully transformed. He reached the ceiling, a whale-sized wolf of folklore, and if perhaps he had been sober the guard would have realized how stupid it was to enter a cramped cell with a fully-fledged Outsider Monster, how ludicrous it was to step in between a wolf and its meal.

The shots rang out, feeling like hot stings against Corvo's abused and rage-filled skin. He turned his bloody head to the guard, the man's face filled with tears as he looked to his dog, his prized fighter, now long gone, the life running out just like hers did and suddenly, memory bubbled up unbidden and Corvo shuddered.

Trapped. Framed. Changed. Ruined. Monster. MonstermonsterABOMINATION.

He opened his mouth and howled, his cry like pained whalesong, screeching and eerie and like no sound and animal should ever make. The guard paused, frozen and terrified against the power of his pain.

The open door of the cell suddenly swam into view, and Corvo held onto his sanity long enough to understand what this meant, how he could take advantage of the drunken guard's hubris. He turned from his meal and leapt, ignoring the yells, ignoring the sharp smell of fear and piss as he surged toward the door, willing his body to finally, finally…

Be free!

Corvo choked and and whimpered as a part of him dissolved into smoke, allowing his hulking frame to slip through the too-small door frame. His arms reached out and the guards screamed in terror, as the monster of a wolf emerged from the cloud, dust and ash coalescing back into the solid form of muscle and bone and fur. Corvo was left panting from exhaustion and surprise but he did not wait, couldn't afford to think of anything but freedom, of getting out, of willing his powerful new legs to move to anywhere but here.

He smoked through the rooms in a fevered, instinct-driven fury, not looking back as his tongue lolled out, his eyes bulged, his nose leading the way to the yard, to the sky, to the smell of river water just beyond--

A howl, hungry and excited, sounded out. Corvo froze, heart hammering, brain reeling.

The Royal Executioner. He was coming. And his tone was after blood.

Corvo's pace quickened, his lupine body powered by adrenaline as it continued to surge forward, ghosting through doors and past guards in a cloud of dust and fur and light. He just wanted to get out and his instincts -- his will to live -- refused to let him die here.

Claws crashed against the floor of the courtyard as Corvo landed, hard and heavy, his eyes turned skyward for the first time in months. His nose pointed to the stars and inhaled , taking in the outside air of Dunwall, and his heart sang, his joy palpable as he let out a small howl to the sky.

If he had been human, or had his wits, he would have known such a cheer would have attracted attention, giving his position away. It was stupid to celebrate before the night was won.

But as thick, heavy paws jumped over the ramparts and into the yard, the Wolf named Raven suddenly realized the grave mistake he had made.

Glowing eyes. A bristling, upright frame. And a growl to match the anger in those long fangs.

The Executioner had arrived.

Corvo was large. This was a fact: he filled his cell, he was too big for regular doors, dwarfing human and hound alike. His weight was close to a metric ton. And yet, at full form, the executioner was even larger still. A giant of a dog, he lived up to the old folkname of whale-wolf.

He stood up and the power of him had Corvo shrinking back, the magic of his form something a mere Turned wolf could only dream of having at their disposal.

“You are not going to leave.”

The pressure of his bidding crashed into Corvo and he wheezed, his smaller body unable to handle the onslaught. He whined, claws flexing, tail tucking. The wolf stalked forward, the magic of him crackling, and Corvo bowed to it.

“What a foolish, stupid thing you are. Just like every other Turned, ” he snarled out, drool dropping, teeth gnashing. “You do not deserve this power. You do not deserve to live.”

Corvo whined, body shaking, ears down, not meeting the gaze of the monster before him. But as he stalked closer, something invariably stronger than even the Great Grey pulled on him, yearned for him, and he gasped as the energy from its source flooded him.

Get out. Climb. Defy him and find Me.

Corvo's eyes shot open and he panted, body paralyzed between two forces pushing against him. He looked up just in time to see the other wolf pull back, readying his practiced killing blow.

Come and find Me! You are not his, but MINE!

Corvo's claws shot out, smashing into the larger Wolf’s face with a resounding crash. Fur flew and skin peeled away, leaving angry red lines behind on a snarling muzzle. But Corvo doesn't stick around to admire his handiwork: instead he was leaping, his legs carrying him upward, towards the ramparts, towards the night sky and freedom.

The snarl followed him, loud and angry. The shots of the guards rang out. Hot bullet pricks turned into a spreading fire but still Corvo surged upwards, long strong claws scrabbling for purchase against smooth and heavy stone. He ignored everything around him but his instinct and a pull greater than himself telling him to come, to live, to belong.

He reached the top of the building and sang, the cold night air a blessing against his cursed and battered flesh. Below him, the compound erupted into chaos; more shots rang out, some finding their mark, others ricocheting off the stone.

But Corvo didn't care; finally, he was free. He was tired and wounded but finally he was out and as he leapt into the Wrenhaven River, his body and mind disengaged and let the river wash him away the cursed Coldridge Prison.

------

“Your life has taken a turn, has it not?”

Corvo gasped and jerked awake, drawing breath so fast his whole body spasmed. As he did, the world under him shifted before righting again, rocking back and forth quickly. A soft, tired voice was talking to him, muffled in his ears, hard to understand. But when the gentle hand touched his shoulder he jerked back and away, instinct taking over. His lip curled, the snarl ripping out of him before he could stop it, but the face of the boatman next to him is soft and worried, not scared or threatening.

His was certainly not the face of a Coldridge guard or the Royal Executioner.

“Woah, woah, easy there, Lord Corvo,” he said gently, hand still outstretched towards Corvo as his other steadied his rocking boat. Corvo took a breath and looked around, trying desperately to right himself and understand what was happening.

He was in a boat. A small boat: wooden and rickety and powered by whale oil, it was perfect for traveling down the Wrenhaven and navigating its many tributaries. He looked up and down the huge expanse of water and his breath evened out as he saw that wherever he was, it was far away from the Tower and its cold, hate-filled prison.

Corvo chanced a glance back to the man. His lids hung heavy and he had grey hair, wrinkles, and mutton chops -- but a small smile was also there, laced with worry. No fear wafted from the man and Corvo squinted.

“Who are you?”

Corvo's voice was rough from disuse and abuse for who knew how many months locked in Coldridge. He winced at the sound of his words, and then again as his tongue rolled over teeth that felt to thick and heavy for his current human mouth.

“Samuel Beechworth, at your service, Lord Corvo,” the boatman said with a smile and the sweep of a sitting bow. “Couldn't believe when I found you half-drowned and half-naked among the reeds downstream from the prison. You've been giving the Lord Regent quite the run-around these last few days with your escape, you know.”

Corvo took a few moments to digest that. He looked down at the clothes he was wearing now; a nondescript pair of slacks and suspenders over a few well worn shirts. They smelled foreign, and he couldn't stop the way he nose curled as he pulled at the fabric.

Sam laughed, noticing. “Couldn't let you die of the plague, Corvo. Luckily, I had a few spare outfits stashed in the boat. Hope you don't mind the temporary dressings, I haven't exactly dried out your fancy Protector coat yet.”

Corvo didn't mind, but it didn't stop his muddled head from reeling, still desperately trying to play catch-up.

“Is that how you know who I am?”

“Oh, well that, and I don't think there's a person in all of Dunwall who doesn't know your face by now, Corvo. You've been a wanted man since the Empress died.”

“How long ago was that?”

“About three months now, sir.”

Corvo choked and turned to Sam so fast, the boatman barely had time to register his surprise.

“Emily-- What about Emily?” His wrecked voice cracked and something inside him suddenly burned with a deep-seated need to protect. “Where is she?”

Sam looked nervously at Corvo, and his face said everything Corvo dreaded knowing.

“I was mighty afraid you'd ask, sir. The thing is, is that… Nobody knows.”

[bangtanwhispers]

HI ITS ME I HAVE YET ANOTHER UPDATE ON THE ADORABLE HOT GUY: so the main class teacher is the worlds literal best wing woman ever i kid you not. in the school i go to i’m a foreign student so it’s difficult for me to yanno understand what the fuck they’re trying to say sometimes and she was going OfF on our class today because i speak fluent english. For now we’ll call me “Thirsty Ass” okay? Okay. So in her broken english she was like (1/?)

“Thirsty Ass, are you friends with any of the boys in this class” and of course my socially awkward self was like “NOPE” and she turned to the boys and she totally snapped she was like “GROW SOME BALLS AND TALK TO HER SHE CAN TEACH YOU ENGLISH WHICH WILL HELP YOU ACADEMICALLY” ok yeah needless to say my crush spoke to me a lil bit and i kinda died but im also depressed because it took our form tutor for him to do that but like yasWE ARE SOSOSOOSOSOSOOSOSOOSOSOS SORRY FOR NOT ANSWERING THIS ASK. I WAS GONNA GO ON THE LAPTOP TO FORMAT THIS ASK BUT I FELT BAD AS THE DAYS ROLL BY AND NOW IM HERE ANSWERING WITH MY PHONE AND SHITTY FORMATTING. I really love it when teachers play matchmaker with their students, it really helps. i just wish my *clenches fist* teachers would do that. it sucks that he only came up to you when told to do so, but hey, it's a starting point right? tutor him one on one and try to be charismatic. channel ur hannah montana girl. socially awkward thirsty ass outside of tutoring, charismatic and Bright during tutoringidk what i'm saying, i just hope things work out with you and this boi bc i stg there's nothing left to lose after you confessing-tofu