#like I get that its a little harder to get used to calling someone you've known for 7+ years by a new name

[idledreams4]

I know I'm spending too much time on Tumblr cause y'all just call me Harlenn

I just got caught off guard when someone who I know keeps calling my by my dead name did exactly that.

I'm so used to hearing the name I want to that I got blindsided and also it's making me re-evaluate my friend choices...

[tbiscool35]

Legit it's like finding out that a man cannot see himself being friends with a woman unless he's trying to date her. Like that's just sexism my dude, touch some grass.

I have multiple male friends, some who have gfs, some who don't, none of which want to get in my pants. They're all decent human beings who are comfortable enough in their masculinity to hang around women and not feel emasculated if they're not the centre of attention.

One of my male best friends had literally never had a supportive friend group before us and had such an insane change in personality from the time I first met him to now, almost 2 years later. Dude has stopped putting himself down all the time and has even gone through a whole sexuality crisis (he's a bisexual king with a hot bisexual queen and they both admire the hot people together).

He is one of my best friends and I love him like an annoying little brother. I wouldn't trade him for the world.

Some men do suck, but treating all men the same as ones who do actually do despicable things just increases the seperation between the genders. It takes away the ability for mixed friendships and the ability for men to understand things from a women's perspective. And if you can't understand the perspective of a population, well that's how discrimination and dehumanisation happens.

Sexism works both ways. People are human, treat them as such regardless of race, gender, religion, or any other seggregating factor. Never dehumanise a section of humanity. No matter how justified you think it is. Because that is how the most heinous crimes of humanity were allowed to occur.

Some of y'all genuinely hate dudes and honestly, that's super cringe

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Help me! I'm hypnotized...

The loser roommate I got stuck with did something to my brain. I didn't think it was possible, but that pathetic fag somehow put me in a trance. I don't remember how: with a pendant or spiral; but it doesn't matter! What matters is that at any second he can say a trigger word, and I end up like this: smiling and flexing like a fucking idiot 'till he releases me.

Sure, I look like I'm alright, but I've been stuck in this pose for two hours. My biceps ache and my shoulders are on fire. Add to that a leg cramp that I cant walk off and you'll realize how awful this torture is.

I'd just been trying to finish an essay (his essay to be exact.) I might be on the football team, but this lazy geek is forcing me to do his homework for him! And even though he ordered me to do that, against my will, he calls me up and says my fucking trigger word! It's fucking ridiculous! I used to go out and party with my teammates on nights like this, but now I'm stuck being this dweeb's mannequin-on-command.

I just know he's going to boss me around when he finally gets here. He'll probably make me cook him dinner again. I'd spit in it if I could -hell, I'd probably poison it if I could- but I know I'll be stuck in my own body again. I hate it when he tells me to smile and serve him like a waiter. God, its humiliating...

He makes me workout during my free time, which I have a lot of now that I can't speak to any of my old buddies. I gotta say that my body's never looked better. I guess their is one upside to being under his control: whenever he tells me to train harder, I have to do it.

The gym is the one area of my life where I can at least pretend that I'm not someone's trained monkey. Still, the fact that I can't even shower without his permission is a pretty harsh reminder. Whenever I get back from a workout, my legs march straight to the table where I sit, flex, and smile while I wait for him to tell me what to do. It doesn't matter how tired or hot I am. Sometimes, he doesn't even let me shower. He just tells me to mop the sweat up with my shirt and then put it back on.

I think the nerd has a thing for sweaty jocks or something. The thought of this creep making me do all this to get his little dick hard pisses me off more than anything...

I applied for a job today. It wasn't because I wanted to. My roommate decided that he wants more spending money, so he turned to me and said that I was going to earn it for him. So it wasn't enough for me to be his personal chef, maid, and eye candy! I have to be his fucking ATM now too?!

The tie wasn't my idea either. He told me to go buy some fancy clothes to make sure I impressed my "future employer." He's such a dweeb, and now he's making me dress like a loser too.

Obviously I nailed the interview. It wasn't hard when he programmed me to say things like "I've always wanted to deliver pizzas," or "I want to be the best employee you've ever had!" He made me sound like such a kiss-ass for a stupid minimum-wage job. Even the guy interviewing me thought I was being a bit excessive! I got hired on the spot, and I'm already scheduled every night this week, because my roommate specifically made me ask for as many hours as possible.

Now that I'm done with probably the most humiliating thing I've ever done, I'm stuck flexing with a tie on 'till that asshole gets home...

I got my first paycheck after a long couple of weeks doing his classwork during the day and delivering pizzas at night. My roommate texted and told me to wait by the front door with my paycheck. Apparently, he's going out tonight with some of his loser friends and wants the cash now. I can't believe I'm about to hand it over to him.

"Hey, handsome," he calls, shutting his car door.

"I'm glad your home, sir. How was your day?"

I do not give a shit about his day! He ordered me to say that whenever he gets back. He's also programmed me to get up and hug him like I'm a fucking queer in love!

"Better now," he purrs, squeezing my butt cheek while we hug, "You should come with me and my friends tonight."

The last thing I want to do is be around him and his pansy-assed friends. "Yes, sir," I smile.

"We're going to a gay bar, and I think you would be an excellent wingman."

My stomach drops at the sound of a gay bar. I don't want to be anywhere near that place, and I really don't want the guy with total control over me parading me around that place like I'm his fucking slut! Where is this going? He wouldn't make me do anything gay, right? The terrifying truth is he could. He could order me to act like a stripper there, or...or worse. Fuck! I don't think there's anything he couldn't make me do. He could order me on my knees right now, and I'd do it with this stupid smile still plastered across my face. He could make me blow his tiny cock, and I'd be helpless to do anything other than enthusiastically suck! I don't want to go to that gay bar. I have to escape.

"Yes, sir," I hear my voice gleefully ring out.

[hoshinasblade]

For real, the animator had ri have been a Hoshina loyalists. Cause no way he looks that bad. For a Narumi prompt it could be funny that he gets with someone that doesn't know him. Someone who doesn't believe he is the 1st division captain because they only see him as the "wet cat" version of himself. And we have Narumi losing his mind over the fact you don't believe him

(not sure where tumblr took my post again because i cant find it lol) the budget went to hoshina and his tight shirt and there was nothing left to animate narumi properly. anyway, this is such a cute and interesting prompt because because yes, he is losing his mind over you not believing he is the cool first division captain 😆

pairing: gen narumi x f!reader trigger warnings: narumi gen is a trigger warning himself, just super short because im not used to writing anything narumi-related yet. hopefully you don't get mad at me anon for not going exactly per the ask lol my brain is a mush right now, i'll try harder on my next fics

the rich man is here, shouted the kids from the hallway. you can hear their hurrying footsteps - excited little taps that in turn triggered your heartbeat to race as well. you shut your eyes, calming yourself down.

narumi gen is not exactly a rich man; the children in the orphanage just calls him that fondly. apparently he has been dropping by for years, way back when you weren't working as a teacher yet. the older orphans refer to him as nii-san.

narumi would bring toys snd snacks for the kids, and would spend time with them until the early evening before he has to say goodbye. last time, he played video games with everyone; he brought crayons and sketch boobs for his visit today, and within an hour, it was eerily quiet - the little girls and boys holding their pencils, drawing all sorts of things.

the youngest in your herd, a six-year old boy with a missing front tooth ran to you when he saw you by the door, showing you his drawing - a stick-man figure with a knife in its hand, and an animal beside it which you were not sure whether it's an oversized dog or a giraffe.

"it's a kaiju, and narumi nii-san is fighting it", the boy explained, and you patted him in the head. "he's a captain of his team, i'm gonna be like him when i grow up!"

you looked at narumi who is sitting on the floor, but he was already looking at you. you shifted your gaze. "this is so pretty, we should display it in the art wall", you suggested to the boy who grinned at you, clapping.

"you know that it's not a good thing to do, lying to kids, right?" the children had bid narumi goodbye just past 7pm, and although some of them cried, narumi was quick to promise he would be back next weekend. you were surprised, he used to only be here once a month.

"huh?" he responded to you with confusion. you walked him out the orphanage to the parking lot outside. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"look, i know you are trying to be nice. and i thank you for that. what you've done for these kids is more than anyone else have done for them. but telling them you're some guy who kills kaiju is wrong. and telling them they can be like you?" you scoffed.

narumi's mouth was wide open before he realized you have finished your speech. "but i am a guy who kills kaiju", he replied, his hand on his chest as if he is swearing on his life. "really, i'm not lying. i'm the captain of my team -"

"right, and you fight kaiju on the daily," you finished his sentence for him.

"yes, i am a real badass, i promise!" he exclaimed when he sensed you do not believe him in the slightest. it looks comical how he looks close to panicking over the fact that you are not buying whatever he's selling. he frowned at you, and you stared at him, the eye contact lasting for a few seconds.

maybe this guy is a con-artist and he makes his living manipulating people, you said to yourself. this would make a lot of sense considering you think he has the good looks to lure people in. narumi had flirted at you once or twice before - or you wish he was flirting and you were not just reading too much on his actions.

"you know if you meet my friends, they would tell you the truth," he suggested, his voice cheerful.

"why would i meet your friends?" you asked, equally confused.

"so they can tell you that i am the coolest captain of the anti-kaiju defense force. they would also tell you i am a good man and a dependable friend," narumi said, reciting maybe the contents of his curriculum vitae to you. is he in a job interview? you wanted to ask but didn't.

you sighed in defeat. "are your friends as exasperating as you are?" you asked in jest.

"come on, let me impress you", he told you with sincerity that is almost startling. you were not expecting him to sound so genuine, so adamant at proving himself to you.

the kids will have their dinner in a few minutes and you will be needed to help out. you gave narumi one last glance before strolling back to the orphanage. "i'm off on fridays", you said.

narumi's smile could have lighted the entire street.

[minki-moo]

♡‧₊˚ 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙢𝙚 ♡‧₊˚

pairing ♡ bang chan x f!reader rating ♡ e for explicit tags ♡ older brother's best friend!chan, university au, fluff, very slight angst (reader is just overwhelmed/kinda insecure), pet names (chan calls reader princess, good girl), oral (f.receiving), aftercare w/c ♡ 2.6k

a/n ♡ hai!! this is my first little fic (on here). its based off a lil convo i had with a chan c.ai bot and i had to write something about it >.<

"hey, what's wrong?"

chan looks at you, standing in front of his dorm door at an ungodly hour. you look like a mess; as expected from someone who ran half way across campus.

you look up at chan, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

"i'm-i dont know. i just need to be with someone right now". you take a shaky breath. "i dont wanna be alone."

chans's eyes slightly widen when he sees the tears in your eyes. he gently grabs you by your waist and pulls you inside. "hey hey, listen. it's ok". he moves you to his living room and guides you to his couch, sitting you down. "i'll bring you something to drink and then we can talk about it ok?".

you nod weakly, watching as chan moves to the kitchen. the sight reminds you of your childhood, when your older brother would invite chan over to hang out. chan would often make snacks for them (you included since your brother always had the task of babysitting you), and this scene in front of you was no different.

well, except for the fact that you were always happy back then, cheerful even. but ever since starting university, you've become overwhelmed; the transition and being so so far from home. thank god you were able to get into the same university as chan, or else you would have felt completely alone.

you're shaken out of your thoughts when you feel the couch dip, chan sitting next you. he puts a cup of tea down on the table in front of him and drapes a blanket around your shoulders.

"so bub", chan says, using his childhood nickname for you, "do you wanna talk about it?"

you take a deep breath and start talking about your worries and insecurities from your thoughts earlier. the one thing you love about chan is the way he just listens. he never butts in and just sits there, giving you his attention with the occasional head nod and hum of understanding.

"i just-i'm so tired chan. i'm tired of putting up this 'strong girl' persona. i'm tired of having that expectation tied to me. for once, i want to let go. i want to be taken care of without having to worry about anything else."

chan looks at you with his puppy dog eyes. he moves closer to you and puts his arms around you, holding you close to his warm body. you feel the tears from earlier threaten to spill, but you keep them in, refusing to cry in front of chan.

"bub", he says, his voice vibrating through his body, "you know you can always come to me right? i would never judge you, and i for sure would never leave you alone." he runs his hands through your hair as he gently rocks you back and forth.

at this point, your efforts to hold back your tears fail as the droplets fall, dampening chan's shirt as small sobs leave your mouth.

chan holds you tighter, doing his best to comfort you. "hey, it's ok princess", you notice the change in nickname but choose to brush it off.

after what felt like hours you detach yourself from chan, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. "i-i think i'm a bit better now." you look up a chan with a weak smile on your face. "thank you, channie".

he blushes slightly at the nickname, as you haven't called him that in years. "of course. say, do you want to stay over for the night? i wouldn't want you to go back to your dorm this late."

truthfully, you would hate to stay amd inconvenience chan anymore than you already have, and staying over would make things harder on him.

chan sees the look of hesitation on you face and gives you a stern look.

"hey, i know that look on your face!"

you look at him, startled and blushing slightly. "what look??"

he grins at you, an amused look ghosting his face.

"the look that says 'oh i'm bothering him i should just go home'". chan chuckles as your eyes widen at his answer.

chan sighs and takes your hands in his "bub, i can promise that you are not bothering me. not at all. i barely get to see you on campus, and to be honest-" he looks away slightly, "i'm more than happy to spend some more time with you. i've missed seeing you."

you stare at chan, his face becoming redder by the second. you've always found chan cute (and very, very handsome of course), but you've never thought that he might have similar feelings for you; you always thought he saw you as just a little sister.

chan clears his throat "anyways, let's get you to bed." he gets up off the couch, and you start to follow, until chan pushes back down.

"chan what the-"

he cuts you off when he suddenly picks you up bridal style, forcing a yelp out of you.

chan smiles at you. "i refuse to let you do anything while you stay with me. you deserve a break, and i'll be giving you the treatment you deserve." he makes his way towards his bedroom while you lay your head in his chest, suppressing the feelings that have resurfaced so suddenly.

chan places you on his bed. then starts looking through his closet. "here." he tosses a sweater towards you "change into this. you can take the bed, i still have some work to finish." he walks up to you and brushes back your hair, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead "goodnight princess." he doesn't give you time to answer as he leaves the room and shuts the door.

you sit there, stunned and in utter shock. chan, channie, just kissed you, and you don't think you can suppress these feelings anymore.

suddenly wide awake, you change into his sweater and get under the covers, chan's scent surrounding you, making you dizzy and dampening your panties just a little bit. although his scent is also comforting, you can't seem to calm down, the kiss still running through your mind.

after what felt like forever, you get up and look at the time. 2:03 am. you know chan would still be wide awake, the workaholic he is. you slip out of bed and walk back into the living room.

chan is sitting on the couch, glasses on and looking intently at his laptop screen. hearing your footsteps, he looks up, smiling but also looking slightly concerned.

"can't sleep?" he says as you move closer to the couch, taking the spot next to him

"no", you say, pulling your knees to your chest and pulling the hood of chan's sweater over your head.

he nods, his focus returning to his laptop while you both sit in a comfortable silence.

after a few minutes, you turn to him, unable to keep all the questions in your head any longer.

"chan?"

he looks over, looking at you from over his glasses.

"yes?"

you hesitate, before looking him dead in the eyes and asking him, "why did you kiss me earlier?"

he looks at you, a smile slowly growing on his face as he puts his laptop down, moving so his whole body is facing you.

"why are you asking?" he leans in closer. "did you not like it, princess?"

you look at him, eyes wide and face growing hot. "n-no, i mean-you know what im talking about! you've never done that before so why now?"

chan's smile grows at your reaction. clearly he's enjoying how flustered he can make you with a few words.

"well...i did it because i wanted to."

you look at him, shocked. "you wanted to?"

he nods, moving closer to you and taking you hands in his.

"yes, i did." he takes a deep breath. "you don't know how long i've been waiting to do that. to kiss you, and to let you let me take care of you. i...i've liked you for so long, but you only ever saw me as an older brother"

there are so many things running though you're head, but you chose to ignore them for the fact that chan likes you back.

he has this whole time.

you reach up, holding his face in you're hands. "i stopped seeing you as an older brother a long time ago." and you kiss him. a short, but oh so sweet kiss that makes everything seem right.

you pull away from the kiss, smiling at the shocked expression on chan's face. "what's wrong?", you say, getting payback from all the teasing from earlier. "you didn't like it, channie?"

he finally shakes off his initial shock, looking at you with a different expression: relief.

"no princess", he puts his arm around you're waist and pulls you onto his lap with one quick tug. "i loved it so much."

he kisses you again, and you can feel the smile on his face as you kiss him back, his movements almost desperate.

chan's hands move from your waist to your back, his hands slowly making their way under your sweater.

you break away from the kiss, panting "c-chan please..."

"please what, princess?"

blushing, you respond, "i-i want more."

chan smirks at you, suddenly grabbing your ass and grinding it down into his lap, causing you to moan in surprise.

"is this enough for you, princess?"

you look his in the eye, the desperation and neediness making your eyes water.

of course it's not enough.

you roll your hips into chan's now very prominent boner, earning a gasp from the man.

you hear chan whisper "h-hey, slow down princess."

"but chan, i need more. so much more, please", you plead, hoping he will do something about the ache in your core.

without warning, chan moves you onto your back and sits in between your legs. he leans over and gives you another kiss on the lips before moving down to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. his actions force tiny moans from you, which only encourage him to do more. as he moves further down, he slowly, almost painfully, lifts your sweater until your tits are uncovered.

without skipping a beat, chan takes one of your nipples in his mouth, while he rolls the other one in between his fingers.

"ch-channie", you gasp, your hands grabbing his hair. chan moans, welcoming the sting, which stimulates you even more.

he takes his mouth off your nipple with a pop, and gives it one final lick before moving down to your thighs. god, your thighs. chan always tried to be respectful when it came to you, but he couldn't deny that your thighs were a work of art, and he always wondered what it would be like to be in between them.

unable to hold himself back, chan rubs the wet spot on your panties, brushing his thumb over your swollen clit. "look at this princess, you're already so wet for me." he continues teasing you, making your whimpers grow louder, and the wet spot on your panties grow larger.

after what feels like forever, chan tugs on the waistband of your panties, lifting your hips with one hand and pulling them off with the other, stopping to take a look at your soaking wet pussy; knowing that he's the reason you're like this makes him even more turned on than he already is.

"now princess", he whispers, blowing a puff of air onto your heat, making you shiver. "let me take care of you, ok?" without warning, he licks a stripe over your pussy, making you gasp and squirm.

"o-oh channie, yes."

he smirks, taking your clit into his mouth and sucking hard. overwhelmed, you buck your hips into his mouth, chasing your pleasure, but he holds down your hips as he ravishes your pussy, not letting a single drop of your juices go to waste.

you're in pure bliss. chan's tongue bringing you overwhelming pleasure, the only things coming out of your mouth are broken moans and incoherent mumbling. "ch-channie please, 'm so close."

"you're close, princess?". his moves his attention to your hole, rubbing his index finger over your tight entrance. "can you cum on my fingers? can you do that for me, princess?" you give him a weak nod.

chan clicks his tongue and pushes his finger into you, only to pull it out seconds later, making you whine.

"fuck, channie please. please 'm so close." tears start to fall as you beg for chan to keep going.

"princess, i need you to use your words ok?" chan's change of tone makes you shiver. "can. you. cum. on. my. fingers?", he says while teasing your clit with his thumb.

you nod urgently "yes, yes i can. please just me-"

the feeling of chan's finger finally sliding into your wet heat makes you gasp. continuing his assault on your clit with his tongue forces louder moans out of you. its almost too much. chan adds another finger and you start to see stars.

"channie channie please please 'm so close please don't stop."

chan chuckles, the vibrations on your clit bringing you closer to the edge. he then takes his mouth off your pussy, coming up to kiss you.

"cum for me princess."

the taste of you on his mouth, his voice and the movement of his fingers are too much for you, as your body tenses up and your pussy squeezes chan's fingers. you know you shouldn't be too loud, but you can't help it. the pleasure he brought you was intense, and you couldn't hold back your moans. he continues to move his fingers inside of you, helping you ride out your high.

after you've calmed down, chan removes his fingers from inside you. he takes a tissue from the table beside the couch and cleaning you both, slipping your panties back on and pulling you into his lap again.

"that's my good girl. you did so well."

finally down from your high, you blush, hiding your face in his neck.

"that...was amazing", you say, you're voice no more than a whisper.

he hums, smiling slightly. "glad to hear that princess." he gently brings your face towards his, and plants small kisses all over you're face. "was that the type of treatment you were hoping for?"

rolling your eyes, you smile at him. "not entirely, but it was still amazing." you kiss him on the tip of his nose. "thank you channie."

"anything for you, my princess." the slight change in your new nickname makes your heart (and pussy) flutter, resting your head on his chest and slowly dozing off.

in your sleepy state, you mutter, "can we do this next time?"

he chuckles, "we can do more than just this, if you want."

"like what?"

chan whispers in your ear, "maybe next time i can have you cry on my cock, teasing you again and again until you beg me to let you cum." he looks at you innocently, purposely oblivious to how flushed you've gotten. "wouldn't you like that princess?"

"i-i might like that."

he smiles, giving you a final kiss on the lips before carrying you to his bedroom.

"of course you would princess. now let's get you to bed."

chan walks to the side of his bed, placing you down gently and then getting in himself. he pulls you by your waist, one arm under your head and his hand caressing your hair.

as you drift off to sleep, you utter one more phrase before sleep takes over.

"i love you channie."

a/n ♡ ahahah i totally didn't project or anything ;) (this also turned out a lot longer than i thought it would) i also think i could have added some more dialogue but lmk what you think >_<

[realcube]

hiii my sweet toe bunny😍😚🤎 i have an upcoming gigahuge exam bc it will determine whether i have to go to school for another whole damn year or not so im getting the stress hornies big time!! your requests seem to be open for some reason?! good writers like you are usually busy with a flood of them so i can never request anything😭 but anyways i was gonna throw you this little peanut, a classic really: size kink with lev! dont even know if you write for him lol, couldnt see it on ur profile🥲 i think he’d have the size kink more than any of us ever could, i just feel like he goes crazy especially if its a much shorter person. bc having a size difference from far away is one thing, but being right next to the person and interacting with them and putting your hand on their back and realizing you’re nearly twice their size… is another.

feel free to ignore this pookie butt im soo sorry if this is too specific or something ☹️☹️ writing is hard and getting inspired by someone elses idea is even harder, so yeah. stay hydrated and keep emitting gamma rays☃️

LEV HAIBA + SIZE KINK

a/n → not the sweet toe bunny 😭 stress hornies is so real, sorry for replying so late rah. but i hope your exam went well. or if you haven't sat it yet , good luck and i hope this helps :) also thank you so much for i compliments i can'tttt aaa 😩 wc — 2.5k

tags/tws → size kink (ofc lol), petite!reader, breeding, vaginal, fingering, oral (giving), frenching, petnames, semi-public, pregnancy implications & no beta

you've seen haiba lev before, in magazines and on billboards. sometimes even on television, promoting luxury perfumes in advertisements or modelling designer clothes on the runway.

you knew he was tall — most models are — but it was only when you saw him in person that you realised how truly big he is, how he towers over everyone else on set.

you work as an intern for a famous fashion brand, and you met haiba during a photoshoot he was doing for their new office wear campaign. your job was mostly fetching food or drinks for the models; making sure they were comfortable at all times.

the first interaction you ever had with him was when you were handing out water bottles to the models as they walked onto set, and as soon as you saw his huge frame saunter in, you almost froze from shock. he flashes you a polite smile and mouthed a quick "thank you" as he followed the director to where ever she was leading him.

and though it was brief, that was enough to have you fixated on him for the rest of the photoshoot. you were attentive to your duties but still so mesmerised by him. his lean figure and silvery hair. you had always known lev haiba was exceptionally attractive — he's a model, for fucks' sake — but something about seeing him in person made you feral.

and little did you know, after he first saw you, lev kept an eye out for you too. admiring from afar how hard you worked, and making sure to flex just a little bit more for the photos whenever you were nearby. he just thought you were so cute.

you assumed this whole situation would end as a little temporary work crush. you can fangirl over him for now and blush whenever he smirks at you from across the room, but once this shoot was over, he would never think of you again, while you'd go back to seeing his face plastered nearly everywhere and fantasize about what could've been.

but that wasn't lev's idea. he was used to pursing what he wants.

when the shoot is nearing completion for the day, lev has a long conversation with the photographer and is one of the last models to leave the set.

you were tasked with helping the models remove the designer's clothes, if they needed it. thankfully the majority of them didn't and by the time lev entered the changing room, all the others were leaving to go home, and you were wishing them a safe journey.

"excuse me, ms?" you hear a voice call from the changing room, followed by lev stepping out from behind curtain. he was previously wearing a full suit, but you can see he's shedded the black blazer and was now in only the fitted white shirt, black trousers and dress shoes.

he was looking down and fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, "could you help with this, please?" he asks with an awkward chuckle.

lips slightly parted at his unexpected inquiry, once the initial shock fades, you hastily nod and guide him back into the changing room, and this time you enter with him.

it's a confined area but still somewhat big. there's enough space for the two of you to stand, a stool, a clothes rack and full length mirror. he stands before you while you work on unbuttoning his shirt, starting from the top.

"sorry for asking you do this. the buttons are just too small for me." he holds his hands up as a size comparison, and they're undoubtly big.

"it's okay," you stutter, not daring to break your intense stare with his buttons because you know if you were to look up at his face, you might die. "i know these can be very fiddly sometimes."

"exactly." he nods in agreement.

it takes you quite a while to even reach his mid-torso because your hands are shaking so much from being in such close proximity to a celebrity you admire so much. and not only that, but you're literally taking his clothes off. and lev takes notice of his and comments, "nervous?"

your eyes widen and you freeze, heart jumping to your throat. eventually, you're able to squeak, "kinda."

"why?" he laughs, but not in a mocking way. he's genuinely confused as to why you'd be scared of someone like him. it's funny because people usually praise him for being very friendly and approachable.

"you're just.." your voice trails off, trying to think of a way to explain yourself without sounding offensive. "intimidating, y'know, in stature."

lev laughs even harder this time, "woah, that takes me back to when i was in high school. people used to be scared of me because i was the tallest kid in class." he explains, and you detect a hint of pride in his tone.

"that makes sense." you muse, continuing to work on his buttons but it becomes increasingly difficult. especially as he captures your chin between his fingers and pushed your head up so you meet his fiery gaze.

"doesn't make any sense to me." after soaking up your cute flustered expression, he glances down and sees you've only got one button left to do, so he prompts, "go on."

since your fingers are already latched onto it, you're somehow able to undo it without looking. he then releases his grip on your chin so he can slip the shirt off, hanging it up on the adjacent rack.

now shirtless, he turns to you and hums, "your turn?"

lips pressed into a line and heat burning your cheek, the only response you're physically able to give is a meek squeak accompanied by an eager nod. which doesn't even begin to encompass your enthusiasm but perhaps that's for the best.

he smiles at your agreement and grabs the bottom of your top and pulls it off in one swift motion, leaving you standing in your bra in front of him. and before you have a moment to process any of this, he slips one arm behind your shoulder and his other hand reclaims its spot on your jaw to manoeuvre your head upwards, so it's ready to receive his kiss when his lips suddenly come crashing down onto yours.

despite your tact, now that his lips have locked with yours, you find yourself melting into his touch and moving your against him rhythmically. your bodies — though vastly different in proportions — arching into each other desperately.

while one hand sloppily undoes his belt and pulls his cock free from the designer trouser, the other hand on your jaw slowly moves to hold your cheek as the two of you kiss fervently, then it shifts up to your ear, then tangles itself in your hair which he uses to gently pull you away.

you whine quietly at the seperation, missing his hot lips against your own, and he smirks at your reaction. eyes glued to yours, he rasps, "you want it, pretty?"

he motions downwards and you bite your lip at the sight; his size alone is enough to leave you dumdfounded and nodding pathetically, eager to hop on to his monstrous length.

"good girl. think you can handle it?"

"uhuh." you whisper, shaky hands wandering down to take hold of him, and he lets you. in fact, with his grip on your hair, he yanks you down until your face is mere inches away from his tip, "taste first."

with hesitation, you drop to your knees and graciously accept as much of him as you can into your mouth, though that is barely even half. lev still appreciates it; the warmth of your mouth causing his breath to hitch. his cock even twitches at the sight of your cheeks puffed out, struggling to hold him inside.

when his tip prods the back of your throat, it causes you to gag a little, so you immediately jerk away from his cock and cough into your arm.

a concerned look crosses his features and he lightly rubs your back to aid your coughing, "ah, sorry." he apologises, as if it was his fault his cock was so huge that you were gagging on it.

"it's okay." you grate once your coughing fit has calmed down, throat still a bit dry.

he offers you his hand to help you stand up, "c'mon, cutie, that's enough teasing." he reassures you.

you place your hand upon his and as he guides you to your feet , you can't help but notice how big his hand is compared to yours. your thoughts suddenly becomes flooded with fantasties of what you want those big hands to do to you, which he notes by how your touch lingers for a couple moments extra after he lets go.

identifying what your longing for, he presses his lips against yours once more, engaging in a heated make-out while his hands wander down to unzip your jeans and tug them off, leaving you in only your underwear.

while he creeps in tongue into your mouth to make for a french, his long slender fingers rubs your labia through the fabric of your panties, amused by how wet you are already. "still think you can take it?" he basically breathes into the kiss, parting for barely a second to mutter his inquiry.

you reply with an affirmitive moan into the kiss. and just in case that wasn't clear enough, you hook your leg around his hips to give him better access.

he gladly slides the damp strip of material out of the way and sticks his two fingers into your hole, silently snickering at how you writhe at the stimulation of his fingers alone. but you can't help it; they're just so long at push against your walls in just the right way that makes your needy pussy flutter.

the wet noises from your pussy fill the changing room, shortly followed by your stifled moans — afraid other staff might be nearby to hear. his palms rubs against your throbbing clit, as his fingers shallowly thrust inside you. the minimum amount of stimulation needed to make you squim.

lev simply stares at you, enchanted by how your tight hole clings to him, and how the size of his palm compares to your pussy. it's like he could scoop you all up in one hand; hold you tenderly in his hand like a precious doll.

"sweet girl.." he idles, fingers stirring inside you, "fit me so well."

just as he says that, a hiss is drawn from you at how he harshly pulls his fingers out of your hole.

"bend over for me." he commands nicely, and without a second thought, you turn around and bend over, positioning your forearms against the changing room walls to balance you. while you do this, lev has already hooked a finger under the lace of your panties and dragged them down until they fell to your ankles.

his fingers rubbed over your labia, occasionally teasing your clit and soaking up your slick with each seductive movement. his other hand worked on aligning his cock with your glistening hole, until the bulbous tip was prodding against your enterance, at which you let out a low whine of confirmation.

however you didn't fully understand the capacity of what you were giving yourself up for until it was halfway stuffed inside you, contorting your plushing walls to accomodate his massive size and creating a slight buldge in your abdomen. truly it had knocked the wind out of you and despite him no longer being crammed down your throat, you were still choking on it.

as you writhe and mewl in attempt to cope with the intrusion, lev pauses and takes a moment to admire your figure beneath him. how you're so kindly bent over for him, and your tight cunt is struggling to accept his cock.

you were just the right size. with you bent over, he was still tall enough to place his hands on the wall above you, essentially capturing you under him. his sweet angel ready to take him all, and he couldn't help his eagerness to give you what you want.

before he knows it, his hips start to move autonomously against yours, ramming his length into sopping pussy repeatedly, making a lewd squelching noise with every sharp thrust. the volume of which made it clear to anybody nearby what was going on in this changing room, though you didn't have the power to try and silence it, as the hot arousal pooling by your pussy was the only lubricant that facilitated lev's entrance into you, and main reason it was possible for him to move within your homey walls.

his dick stabbed into you over and over, while his slender fingers drew lazy circles over your clit. you were trying your best to stay hushed in fear of being overheard, but lev didn't seem to care. he was allowing the moans, profanities and obscene exclamations to flow freely off his tongue with out a care in the world for who might hear.

"fuck, cutie, so tight." he squeezes the flesh of your ass, then lets his hand wander up so it rests on the small of your back. he's just so much bigger than you, if he wanted he could probably pick you up and fuck you at his height so he doesn't have to bend his knees so much. it's a miracle you're even able to fit him all inside that petite little pussy.

it gets him so hard so see you like this. stripped bare and trembling under him, stifled moans brewing behind your lips and legs trembling as his colossal dick thrashes against your insides. relentless and bruising your cervix with each fervish thrust. completely fucked out from being impaled by his dick, your arms have given out which levaes your cheek pressed lazily against the wall of the changing room. the cold plastic making contact with your skin, hardly enough to combat the waves of searing pleasure he sends rushing through your quivering body.

"can't take it, huh?" he leans over you, his breathy words tickling your shoulder, "too much for this little pussy? too big for my sweet girl?" mindless dirty talk spills from his mouth as his eyes squeeze shut and he basks in the warmth of your walls clamping down on him.

and he pries them open again only so he can get another look at your shaking body, struggling to take him all but persevering. and with the friction of your hole , along with the sight of your small waist held in his soft hands, it wasn't long until lev finished inside you, spilling his hefty load within the confines of your gummy walls.

his cock was pushes out in the process, which made you sigh of relief, but with his hand already positioned on your clit, he was hasty to stuff his fingers right back into your creamed pussy, causing you to gasp.

"sorry," he whispered, straightening his posture and shuffling back, "just don't want to get any on my trousers. they're designer." he chuckles to himself, meanwhile you are still bend over with his load filling your insides; fully exposed and panting.

"maybe i should've used a condom." he muses, playfully curling his fingers, resulting in an erotic moan departing from your lips.

lev laughs heartily, as though he had just cracked the funniest joke, "nah. raw's more fun." he yanks his fingers out, leaving you to feel the full force of his cum stirring within you, "who knows, maybe next time i come back here, there will a tiny version of me."

he places a final kiss to the nape of your neck before heading to pick up his shirt, "and i don't just mean tiny because of your genes."

[trancetales]

On naming and language in creative writing

I've been thinking recently about writing and specifically, coming up with names and terms within the setting. It can be easy to think to yourself about your own, or indeed of someone else's, choices of terms and names when you're creating a world and setting. "This name is so uninspired", or "This term sounds stupid." You might think it stands out like a sore thumb because it isn't an overly flowery term. That is fine.

Have you ever thought that about real world things? If, like myself, you've found yourself thinking that way about such things, maybe looking at some real world examples with a little more scrutiny can help put some of those thoughts at ease.

Lets start by looking at a few real world terms, first of all. Lets say you have a magic system, and it depends on something that you've called "manapools". Its a simple name, and its to the point. Its not the most out there name, but why should it be?

Have you ever thought about that time at the end of the week? You know, when the week ends, and it becomes the "weekend"? Its what we really called it in English. Its not very creative, but its what we call it, and nobody bats an eyelid. Why should they? That's what its called. Nobody thinks "the weekend should be called something more imaginative.

Another example is the word "waterfall". It couldn't possibly be more straightforward. It is where water falls. Water is falling, so, waterfall. Simple enough, and even someone who doesn't know what a waterfall is could probably piece together that a waterfall is that bit where the water is falling.

This is especially the case when you're talking about a fantasy or scifi term that will be completely new to someone. You actually want someone to recognise the term at a glance and have an idea what's going on. Not just because it makes it easier for the reader to recognise it easily, but because its more convincing from a storytelling perspective - even if there's a more scientific word in the world, are people really going to be using it? Have you ever heard anyone talk about Trochilidae? Probably not. Because when people see a bird that's making a humming sound, they're going to call it as they see it. A hummingbird.

Next, I'm going to touch on place names. Maybe your big city is called "King's Court". Maybe you're thinking that its not very inspired, in a world of Arendelles and Coruscants. If so, you might want to think about two things - real world place names, and the origin of the place names in media.

So we'll start with those two examples. Firstly, Arendelle, the setting for the film Frozen. Yes, it sounds like a fanciful name, but in actuality, its just a regular name but in the language. One source suggests that Aren would translate as eagle, and Delle is derived from the word for Valley. So if it were a name in English, it would just be Eagle Valley. The other example, Coruscant, is a planet from Star Wars. It sounds fancy, sure. But its actually just, a word. An unusual one, yes, but its just a word. Star War also features a city called Cloud City.

It's actually even less creative in real life. Here in the UK for instance, we have 25 places named "Kingston". This is literally just a contracted version of "King's Town", and when they had to distinguish them, they just stuck a bit on. Kingston upon Thames and Kingston upon Hull just put the river they were next to. And then there's Kingston near Lewes. The town is literally just called, "King's Town. The one near that other town." And don't get me started on how many places were just named after Alexander the Great.

The final thing I want to touch on is days and months of the calendar. If you choose to deviate away from the real world calendar, it can feel tricky to get a month that sounds like a month, and days can be even harder. That is, like before, less glaring if you think hard about the real ones.

Starting with days of the week, the simplest point I can make is this. In German, the word for Wednesday is Mittwoch, which literally just means, midweek. They didn't even bother giving it an actual name.

For months, again, its easy to overlook it because of how used to it we are, but not only are half of them really unimaginative, but they're also wrong. Everything up to June is based on parts of the pantheon and such, but when we hit July and August, these are literally just because Julius and Augustus wanted months named after them. So these two are just slight alterations of their names. After those two, we have September, October, November, and December. These ones are just names after the number of the month. Dec, meaning 10, is famously the 10th month, of course... So, not only is it basically just called "month number 10", about as unimaginative as it gets, it is also wrong.

On thinking these points over, I've personally found myself thinking less critically of my naming in all areas. If the UK can have 25 King's Towns, why can you not have a King's Court. If we have Hummingbirds, why the heck wouldn't your people call that fire-breathing dragon a Fire Dragon? And nothing could be worse than the months we have in our real calendar. So don't sell your naming prowess short, because you can't do much worse than the Romans did.

[mistywaves98]

yfsdtydcstshegwsvjhgv hear me out hear me out,,,, yandere!scara controlling reader like he did Haypasia but instead of just making her follow him, he turns the reader into his personal cumdump- reader tries oh so hard to fight back, watching as if its a movie as her body is used as a fucktoy for the ex-harbringer- but the thing is, after a while of this, the reader begins to believe everything he says, that her only purpose in life is to bring him pleasure and becomes scara's perfect obedient little pet <3

-super duper cool anon

This is such a juicy idea anon!

Edit: I think I strayed a bit from what the ask said, sooo uhh, really sorry about that anon 😬😔

✧･ﾟ:* Yandere! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ¡Warnings!: Not proofread, Yandere themes (but not that intense), Non con, Degradation, Lots of repetition of words, collaring, rough sex, Mean! Scaramouche, Kidnapping, I think that's it!

✧･ﾟ:* Minor writing smut! DNI if uncomfy!

✧･ﾟ:* Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

As another one of the scholars who dedicated their lives to trying to connect their consciousness to Irminsul, that is what you spent all of your time doing. Yes, you knew of the tales of what happened to most of those who did manage to accomplish such a task but your desire for the kind of knowledge you could potentially gain blocked out any protests against your actions.

One time you actually saw something while meditating, visions of some sort and although they were blurry and barely distinguishable, it excited you. Since then, you've been training hard, hoping to experience that again.

You heard from somewhere that the Palace of Alcazarzaray was a good place to practice your meditation, so that's where you could be found as the days followed. As you meditated more and more, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your goal, it was only a matter of time, you told yourself. However, you also realized that during the rare times when you weren't meditating, you felt dazed and unfocused and often times you swore you saw something, or glimpses of someone. Though this worried you to a very small extent, instead, you thought you just needed to work a little harder. Eventually it got to a point where you spent all your time meditating, evoking worry from your relatives. In fact, the only thing that stopped you from meditating full time was them coming to 'snap you out of it' as they said. This annoyed you very much and although you knew they meant well, you were too close now and you had already accepted the risks this journey was accompanied with.

So, taking a small choice of possessions, you went to a remote, isolated part of the forest where you would meditate for days on end, not sleeping, eating or drinking. Strangely enough, your body seemed fine with it too, you weren't fatigued at all, it was just the haziness and hallucinations.

Now you were sitting on the floor of the cave, face relaxed but at the same time fixed with an expression of concentration. You focused....and focused.....and focused.....

Yes....

You could feel it, just a little more....

Your eyes suddenly shot open.

Scanning your surroundings you immediately realized something was off. The earth seemed to be layered with a gray tint and there was someone standing right in front of you with their back turned.

"Have...I...finally done it once more? Is....my consciousness.... connected to Irminsul?" You hesitantly ask, "Hmph. Not even a 'hello' at least? I expected better from my first follower."

What? What is he talking about? But wait.... He seems familiar..."Who...are you?" It's difficult to talk, your mind feels heavy and your vision is blurring momentarily. "Me? They call me Scaramouche or 'the Balladeer.' I am a member of the eleven fatui Harbingers but soon I will be known as the god of Sumeru. For now, however, you will address me as 'master,' understood?" He turned around and you were met with two purple eyes glaring down at you. The Harbingers? You've heard of that before, back when you were in the Akademiya, they're from Snezhnaya, right?

Scaramouche's voice brings you out of your thoughts,"I said, 'is that understood?' " "U-uh, yes....master..." His frown turns into an expression of smugness. "Good, I suppose you're pretty baffled by the situation you've found yourself in, but I'll have some mercy and explain it to you."

Your eyes widen when he reveals that he had been watching you ever since you had that experience with the indescribable visions. Those were...his memories? And apparently he's going to become a god? And he has chosen you as his first follower? "Why, you may ask? Well, no one has ever managed to connect directly to my consciousness before, so I took this as a sign. A sign that you are the chosen one." Huh, so you didn't connect to Irminsul after all and instead you're peering into the consciousness of one of the Harbingers? This information is hard for your now unstable mind to process. It hurts...You bring a hand to your aching forehead and try to soothe the pain. "...Can't...focus.."

Suddenly, a hand grips your jaw and tilts your head up so that you make eye contact with him,"You look so dumb right now, but it's alright, you won't need to think much from now on." You gasp as he kisses you roughly, pushing his tongue into your open mouth. His hands grab both of your wrists in a painful grip as he shoves you into the ground, lips still connected. You try struggle under his grip, only to find you can barely move. You try breaking the kiss but not only does he push harder, you can't even move your head and when he pulls away, you cringe at the strings of saliva between you two.

"Why...?" Is all you can manage as you gasp for breath,"Don't ask questions, all you need to know is that you are going to be my little stress toy from now until the day you die." His tone is snappy and you shut up at once, mind hazy. Scaramouche looks as your flushed face and chuckles darkly,"Your mind is weak, you can't even think straight, can you? And without the ability to properly process things you leave your body in a very vulnerable state, don't you know that? Hehe, I'm going to have so much fun with you..." He was right, your mind was under so much strain during your intense meditation sessions, now you don't have the brain to fight back.

His hands let go of your wrists and began to trail down your body, stopping to cup your breasts. You couldn't help but moan as he massaged the soft flesh through your clothes. Then, without warning he tore your top apart, exposing the white bra confining your chest. He made quick work of that two and as soon as the piece of fabric fell to the ground, his fingers went up to flick your now-hard nipples. Suddenly he gave them both a particularly harsh tug, grinning when you yelped in pain. With one hand playing with your left breast, he used his free hand to hike up your obnoxiously long skirt.

"You don't even wear a pair of shorts under this? Such a whore." He smirked at the help you let as as he smacked your pussy. You bit your lip as whimpers threatened to leave your throat as he used his slender fingers to circle your clothed clit. "Please....stop..." "Stop? When you are this wet? Just admit it, you're getting off on your god fucking you." "No...I—" You gag as Scaramouche stuffs three fingers deep down your throat "Stop talking and suck if you know what good for you."

When he finally decided you're wet enough, he slipped your panties off and pocketed them despite your protests. He then flips you unto your stomach before taking his cock out of the confines of his pants,"Now we move on to my favourite part."

A ragged scream is ripped from your throat as he immediately bottomed out inside of you. The situation doesn't get any better when he starts moving right after, barely giving you time to adjust to his size. His pace is fast and his thrusts are brutal, your body rocks back and forward with each slam of his hips. Your own hips feel bruised from the grip he has on them. The burn of his cock abusing your insides has tears streaming down your face and choked out sobs and moans leaving your mouth. A sadistic smile is plastered across his face, clearly enjoying your discomfort and pain,"You look so pretty with tears flowing down your face—hah—you feel so good, these virgin walls are squeezing me so tightly. Yes, cum of my cock, on your lord's cock and show me that only I can pleasure you like this."

Until that moment you didn't even realize you were getting closer to orgasming but you did as he said and the knot in your stomach snapped as you released all over him with a cry. That didn't stop Scaramouche from continuing to fuck you though, his pace barely faltered and his thrusts were just as hard as before,"Please—ngh—stop...no—more..." "Shut up. Your master hasn't had his pleasure yet and you will take everything he gives you until he's satisfied."

He then proceeded to bury his teeth into your neck, biting down so hard the skin broke, causing blood to leak from the wound. You shiver as his tongue darts out to lick a long stripe up your neck, gathering the warm liquid on it in the process. The way his cock is pistoning in and out of you has you weakly clawing at the dirt beneath. You continue to helplessly moan as his breathing gets more ragged and heavy, he must be close. Said assumption proves to be right when you suddenly feel a burst of hot liquid shoot straight into your pussy. Scaramouche finally stops and pulls out of your sore cunt, watching as the white substance leaks out of your abused hole, past your trembling thighs and onto the ground. A pleased look adorns his face,"Hehe, seems like I forgot to mention that I was about to cum, but that's alright, you couldn't anything about it anyway even if you knew."

You sat on the bed situated in the corner of the room, staring at the wall. Your eyes eventually landed on the chains binding your hands to the bed posts, restricting your movements. They were so short, you couldn't even walk a few inches away from the bed.

It had been months since Scaramouche kidnapped you from the cave you originally resided in after fucking your brains out. Since then he has kept you here, occasionally coming to 'check up' on his little pet which mostly consisted of him manhandling you till you were about to pass out. Everytime he came to you, you could see how he was gradually falling into madness. His words became more cruel, more unghinged, more obsessive.

It made you afraid of him and you were worried that someday he might snap and do something unthinkable.

Your gaze shifted to the mirror on the dresser right across from you. A collar was tightly looped around your neck with the name 'Scaramouche' in bold letters. Your hand came up and you tugged it slightly. It didn't budge. Tears filled your eyes at the humiliating memories it brought back. When he first showed it to you, you absolutely refused to wear it and after a lot of resistance from you he was able to secure it, he also fastened it so tightly it choked you at first. And he never bothered to loosen it. Sometimes, on the days when he was feeling it, he would attach a leash to the collar and use it to suffocate you if you were being to bratty.

Your eyes went lower to observe your attire. You'd been forbidden to wear anything besides a town that barely covered your thighs. That is, unless Scaramouche demanded otherwise. The material was so thin and you weren't even allowed to wear anything under it. For easy access, he said.

You've gotten over your dizzy, hallucinating state a long time ago and since you're usually locked up in the room, it's given you a lot of time to think. What has happened to your family? Have they noticed your disappearance? Are they looking for you? Did Scaramouche kill them? But he has no reason to do such a thing, but then again, you wouldn't put it past him to kill innocent people.

You flinch as the door opens. He's back already?

Your eyes widen in fear and you can't help but back up little by little when he approaches you. Soon you're pressed against the headboard and he gets on the bed and crawls over you. You stare into his dull eyes with your frightened ones. You can't see anything but obsession, lust and insanity in them.

"How's my little servant doing? Have you been enjoying your time here? You better have been. Why do you look so afraid? Hehe, you thought I wouldn't notice? You can't hide anything from your god you know." His cold hand rested on your cheek, slowly going down to trace the letters engraved on the collar you were forced to wear. A maniacal smile stretched across his face as he looked at it, pupils dilating with lust. Suddenly he hooked his fingers under it and gave it a sharp tug, briefly laughing when you gasped and instinctively grabbed his arm, as he pulled you forward.

Now he was so close that you could feel his hot breath against your lips. Without warning he kissed you with so much force your head hit the wooden headboard of the bed. This caused your mouth to slightly part in surprise and Scaramouche's tongue was practically down your throat instantly.

His knee made it's way between your legs, pressing up against your bare pussy and rubbing against it. You felt him smile against your mouth as your thighs squeezed his own in a futile attempt to conceal your now aroused state.

When he finally broke the kiss, you gratefully inhaled the much needed oxygen as your face burned with humiliation. You hated being in such a vulnerable state, you hated being so easy to take advantage of. But there was nothing you could do about the way the Harbinger's hands snuck under your gown to roughly grope your chest. No matter what you did or wanted to do, you could only moan in guilty pleasure.

Soon enough, you found yourself in a familiar but unwelcomed position: face pressed into the pillow with your 'lord's' dick thrusting in and out in an attempt to get off. Your hands held onto the sheets for dear life as you came for the 3rd time. Tears rolled down your face and drool stained the pillow as Scaramouche laughed cruelly at your fucked out appearance,"Need a break? Too bad, you won't get one."

You could only mumble inaudible phrases in between gasps and moans in response,"Ngh—please master—hngh—please cum in me—!" "What's that? You want me to fill this slutty hole of yours with my cum? That's right, fill up you like the cumdump you are?" He smirked as you only panted small, breathy 'yes'' to his degrading words. Moments later he finally reached his high and shot his load into your tight pussy.

Scaramouche didn't bother to pull out and instead pressed his chest against your back and whispered into your ear, possessiveness evident in his tone,"No one else can or ever will make you feel like this, only I can bring you this kind of pleasure. You're mine, mine to fuck how I want, mine to do with whatever I please. Right, my little servant?" You nodded dumbly to his statements, mind too mushy to think straight.

You really were just a cumdump for him.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Hello! I have come asking for you to info-dump about the the modern human au. I full of brain rot of them (especially after the last thing you posted about them, damn) Maybe you can tell us a bit more Sally!!

lucky for you, i've been full of that good ol brainrot As Well! thoughts! feelings! ideas! i got em!

so since we're already on the subject of the Crash Arc, allow me to expand on it for a moment before i get to Sally Thinkings! if you've read the snippet, you may have noticed the extent of Wally's injuries was not listed yet. well! he got messed up with a capital F! since it's fiction and i'm god in this scenario, i'm veering slightly away from realistic damage, immediate & lasting. bc lets be real. if i stuck to "this is as realistic as i can make it", then Wally would be aaaaaabsolutely fucked. it was a bad crash in a very unsafe vehicle at high speeds. like - this is what happened. a drunk driver hit Home going 70 down the freeway. swerve, fishtail, tumble down a (small, shallow, really its more like a glorified ditch) ravine with trees and rocks and shit on it. absolute miracle that Wally didn't die in the crash, let alone during the solid half hour (slightly longer) he was trapped in Home before someone noticed the crash site and called emergency personnel. Wally "hanging up" on Barnaby was actually the impact jarring him so he slipped and hit the end call button. but yeah without going into technicalities and detail, Wally has some lasting damage in his dominant hand. It takes extensive physical therapy for him to be able to paint/draw again at the same level he had been at. the hematoma hadn't done a lot of brain damage that wouldn't resolve itself with time. in my mind, when Wally wakes up in the hospital, for a few days he's very confused and his memory is shot. he'll wake up, interact, then go to sleep, but when he wakes up again its like waking up for the first time again. he just can't retain memories for a bit. he's got some severe brain fog. his mood is also kinda fucked with - he's uncharacteristically irritable with low patience, etc. these are all things that clear up with time, but in my mind Wally has chronic migraines going forward. bad ones! and there are days where it's harder fr him to concentrate. and yk. a teeny bit of chronic pain where his shin bone was pinned back together and where his hand was essentially crushed. but other than that he's fine going forward! good days and bad days!

but enough about that! You Want To Hear About Sally!

i imagine that she becomes quite successful in the theater industry. i'm not too familiar with it myself, so i'm gonna be uh. Vague about it? but she starts her own theater troupe - it's a bit of a commute from home base to the town she works in, where the theater is located in, but she makes it work! of the group, she's probably away more than any of them. working on shows, traveling to work on other ones - i like to think she's been on Broadway! she probably has had opportunities to do tv/movie acting, but idk... i feel like Sally would be like "nah. live shows or nothing". maybe at some point she takes up voice acting gigs, as long as she can do them from home. she probably has her own little room-turned-VA-studio thing. idk how that works either! it seems right! but yes Howdy's store's automated messages and advertisements are in Sally's voice. she's probably picked up a temporarily modeling gig here and there.

so Sally is very very busy. Poppy is supportive. everyone is, and they all love to help out when they can - and reel Sally in when the "stardom" starts to get to her head. they do their best to acclimate to occasionally getting jumpscared by her voice in a grocery store or in. idk. fashion shoots. victoria's secret billboards. that last one was a joke! maybe. i think she would.

i also like to imagine Sally like... getting some sort of award and then spending a solid five minutes naming her friends, thanking them with specificity, and then plugging their own stuff. they probably have a rotation for who accompanies her as her plus one for events and parties she may or may not be invited to. she's not like... a Big celebrity but! she's Known and Liked! she has Connections! i like to imagine her and Wally looking dapper as fuck at a Venue...

so the friend group typically stays together, with Sally going off to do her Things the most. she makes sure to schedule time to be with her friends and girlfriend/wife/Poppy between work and gigs and etc. she somehow finds a balance with Ease. or apparent ease... someone get this girl a vacation...

[things-about-cars-in-posts]

Suzuki Cappuccino :) or other baby roadsters

Oh, I had a post in the chamber about exactly that! :D

So, Japan is pretty densely populated. Let's put it this way: one reason the Tokyo metro area couldn't do a huge and extremely weird cultural exchange where every citizen trades place with someone from Australia, Belgium or Slovenia, is there aren't enough Australians, Belgians and Slovenians combined to do that. So you can imagine it would be pretty advantageous to public life for people to drive small cars - hence the popularity of kei cars, a car class with huge tax benefits and tiny engine and dimensions limits. Those limits, positively minuscule when they were introduced to push bike makers to use their parts to make small cars, eventually increased to a 0.66L engine size and the dimensions below...

...and in the late 80s there was a "gentleman's agreement" whereby no one would make a kei car more powerful than 64hp, similar to the other gentleman's agreement whereby they agreed not to make cars with more than 276hp - which they cleverly addressed by equipping more powerful cars, like the Skyline GT-Rs, with unusual little devices called lies.

But now it's the 1990s -contrary to popular misconceptions- and Japanese businesses and customers have a problem: what the fuck do we do with all this money?

To truly convey the desperation with which cash was being thrown around like primate feces, Mazda created FIVE sub-brands (Amati, Autozam, ɛ̃fini, Xedos, and Eunos, brand under which they sold the Miata as Eunos Roadster) AND gave the SIXTH sub-brand M2 separate headquarters - these headquarters. In Tokyo.

M2 only ever made parts and some fringe prototypes, the most it produced were three Eunos Roadster-based limited versions - they cost twice as much as the original (and for good reason - one of them used leather deemed too expensive by the only other automaker to ever use it, Rolls Royce), but because economic bubble, they were so sought after they had to set up a lottery, Andrea was telling us, and as he got to the uber-limited production numbers (a combined 780), he explained that, since of course they were only sold in Japan, there were only five in the whole of Europe. He then raised his finger and, in one of the greatest flexes I have ever witnessed, pointed it around his huge, Miata-packed shed, counting "one, two, three, four, five".

S'yah, it turns out the world's biggest Miata collection is just owned by Some Guy in the middle of Italy, and if your kid ever gets dumped it is a wonderful place to take him to cheer him back up. Thanks, dad.

So clearly, this was a point in time where even people with no need nor wish nor space for a large second car, or a large car at all, could still be interested in a sportscar, thus spawning some briefly-lived but oh-so-brightly-burning kei sportscars, nicknamed ABC.

One of them being, indeed, the Suzuki Cappuccino.

Please remember, this car is positively lilliputian. It's 3.30m long. For the yankees in the audience, that's just 0.03 football fields. Here are some fun size comparisons.

The engine was front-mid and turbocharged...

...the roof was a fun puzzle that allowed you to have a T-Top coupe (with just the sides off), a targa (with the top part of the roof removed but the rear pillar of the roof still in place) or a spider (by folding the rear pillar and window down)...

...and it was NOT exclusive to Japan, with 12% of units being sold in the UK!

But since this was clearly asked by someone quite familiar with its generalities, some less-known quirks for the geeks:

It was the first kei car ever with double wishbones all around

The indicators changed between JDM and UK versions so if you've got the latter finding spares is 10 times harder

The hood release is in the glovebox and the fuel release is in the center console storage - the latter locks with a different key than the ignition uses, so if you hand just the latter to the valet you can keep them from siphoning your gas, but I'm yet to hear whether that also goes for the glovebox, so stay tuned for updates on whether you can also keep them from siphoning your washer fluid

Air gets to the engine (well, to the turbo) through the frame. Like, it gets into the frame, it travels inside the frame, and then gets out and is filtered. Now, you may ask yourself why they would do that.

While most cars had front disc brakes at the time, the less effective but cheaper drum brakes were usually used on the rear, which was fine since when a car brakes weight transfers to the front so the front wheels are the ones that get more grip and can thus brake harder anyway - so not only do you not need the rear wheels to have the same stopping power, you don't even want them to, because then the rear wheels would lock up before the front ones even got to their full braking potential. So when the Cappuccino got four wheel disc brakes, like every other car with four wheel disc brakes, it didn't put four discs of the same size all around. Unlike every other car with four wheel disc brakes, however, they put the bigger ones at the rear. A friend who owns one called the brakes "not amazing".

Then again, let's cut them some slack, it was the second kei car ever with four wheel disc brakes! Second, yes, because the Cappuccino was not the first kei-sized sportscar.

So, remember how with Ferrari, the last car to be signed off by its founder was a mid-engined, rear-wheel-drive, manual, record-setting, no frills two-seater sportscar? Well, the Japanese being famous overachievers, that goes for Soichiro Honda's last two.

Supposedly, Honda decided that its F1 engines hadn't kicked Ferrari's ass enough, so they set out to build a car as approachable, reliable and daily-life-friendly as a Honda yet faster through both straights and corners than a Ferrari. Or a Lamborghini. Or a Porsche- you get the idea. Thus, the NSX, seen here next to it is its test driver, tuning consultant and enthusiastic owner Ayrton Senna, best known for driving the car on the left into three championship wins, a bunch of "Greatest Of All Time" debates, and a wall that killed him.

But if your second-to-last car is a two seat, mid-engined, rear wheel drive sportscar with Pininfarina design, a 40mm short-throw manual, and a redline past 8000RPM, what do you do for your last one? Easy! Another!

This little bowl of pint-sized cuteness is the Honda Beat, and yes, that interior is not just factory, but was the only pattern available. Still, if you think the interior is the most outlandish part of this car, you haven't heard it.

Again, this engine was outsized by two Coke cans and the car it's in is no bigger than the Cappuccino, and you already know how... ah, screw it, let's show you a size comparison anyway.

Some geek facts:

It was the first mid-engine monocoque (as in not body-on-frame, not un-shark-like, you pervs) spider ever made! There were some targas before, but never a full-on spider

The stereo was custom to fit in the super-narrow center console between the two asymmetrical cabin spaces so the cassette slot has the same cute little Beat logo as the "Open Air Motoring!" branded floormats!

Gathers celebrated its 20th anniversary with a new touchscreen radio for it that is now uber-rare and uber-expensive

It had two trunks, which is lovely, except that the rear one had the battery and optional CD changer conspiring against you and the front was literally inside the spare tire, so it's good that you could also get a rear rack!

The rear rims are bigger than the front!

With how much cooler this is than the Cappuccino (sorry, friend who owns one) it's quite the shame Suzuki decided not to go forward with the mid-engine layout their kei sportscar development started with. At least, Mazda sure thought as much, asking Suzuki to please keep working on that idea and make a mid-engined kei sportscar for them to sell under their brand for the youth, Autozam. And thus we have the ABC - C for Cappuccino, B for Beat...

...and A for AZ-1. Think of how cool life was in Japan back in the day that this was a car for the youth.

Fun facts:

IT HAS GULLWING FUCKING DOORS

The spare tire was mounted in the front compartment but crashing made it jam the steering wheel in your chest so they sent owners a little bag and asked them to please put that tire behind the seats

GULLWING FUCKING DOORS

Suzuki sold a few of them themselves as the Cara

G U L L W I N G D O O R S

Sadly, it joined the party (JapaneseEconomicBoomfest, that is) just when it was ending. Hell, the Beat was sold for six years ('91 through '96) and two thirds of Beats sold are 1991s. That's how hard recession hit Japan right when the AZ-1 came out, which indeed sold a fraction of the other two.

But fear not: after decades, Honda blew the dust off the kei sportscar idea in 2015 with the gloriously sexy S660.

It did cease production last year, but at least it left the Japanese used market a kei sportscar with the modern amenities we (and by we I mean you spoiled pussies) cannot do without, like steering wheel controls and *squints* HDMI.

Oh by the way, remember how I said I was going to post about the Cappuccino? Well, it was because someone posted a picture of one with aftermarket taillights.

Guess what car was next to it when this picture was taken. Guess.

WRONG.

"What? Where was this?" At a Fiat 500 meeting, of course. And then people wonder why I love Japan so much.

Links in blue are posts of mine explaining the words in question - if you liked this post, you might like those!

[vestrix]

I'm getting increasingly annoyed at content claiming to be about hoarding and dealing with hoarding when it's not at all. At best it's disorganised clutter, at worst it's someone chasing minimalism.

An ACTUAL tip for fellow hoarders from a hoarder trying to do a downsize for a future move without overly triggering the "re-acquire at greater levels" response: You've got to start so early.

I'll move probably in September. I started in February.

My daily goal: Get rid of (charity, barter, bin) 3 objects a day. 2 easy, one harder. If I bin the harder, it counts for all 3 objects. I can go over the amount if I'm on a roll, but if afterward I'm looking at online shopping or thinking about acquiring more items, I pause for a few days.

I try to battle that anxiety by going through stuff in my collection for Fun, like rediscovering my objects I love, triggering those good feelings I get from my stuff, in an attempt to curb the urge to Get More by provoking that hit with stuff I already have. It's partially successful, honestly, and if I do end up buying stuff, I try to make sure I buy consumables. Food, a bathbomb, a scented candle, something I will use up. Or, I try to make sure what I buy is physically 'less' than what I got rid of, smaller / lighter / takes up less space.

Again, it's a battle against a brain which is having a panic response. There's only so much I can do.

But it DOES get easier to get rid of things when you go slowly, it's a muscle and an anxiety response and both need to be practiced, flexed, and rested. I've made a lot of physical progress and I hope mental / emotional progress, but I will always be fighting this fight, and I will always be a messy, cluttered, maximalist. It's just trying to keep it actually manageable (not what I think is manageable when I'm in denial) and where I'm happy, not overwhelmed and in distress.

Also to add, for me easy objects are never actually easy, but they're things I can rationally say are trash, or I don't like them, or I'm never going to use them, even if my Feelings are saying different.

These objects might be half a bottle of conditioner I didn't like, or a half used bottle of ketchup past its sell by date (which still looks fine), or a pen which only sometimes works now, or a tupperware which had gotten really mouldy and now I'm too nervous to use.

That's what I mean when I say "easy" objects. I am still anxious getting rid of those items, but they're less likely to haunt me.

Harder objects are things like a pair of shoes which are broken and don't fit me. A half knitted doll jumper which is the wrong size and I won't ever frog. A broken computer mouse. I don't make the rules about what is easy or hard in my brain, it often makes little rational sense, but it's usually based on (perceived) value, sentiment, or just liking the object even if it's in an unusable state.

That's the sort of stuff hoarders battle with.

Also, I'm begging you, if you're a content creator PLEASE stop calling things hoarding when they're not. Hoarding has clearly defined markers that need to be met, please be aware of these.

[pandorasfavorite]

Keep my cool

AN: Firstly NO hate to Rhea its all fiction. This is a little cray cray because most people wouldn't fight someone when they are jealous but I WROTE IT OKAY. TW: violence

SONG I used

You don't like it, not one bit. You wouldn't call yourself possessive but protective is a better way to describe it. Sure you and The Judgment Day get along relatively well, you've never had problems with any members of the group. These people were Dominik's friends, family even, but family shouldn't be flirting with him.

Rhea has that small problem, her hands linger too long on his shoulder and she whispers in his ear too often. You dont like to share... you'd never share Dominik with another woman. He's your boyfriend and you're his girlfriend not Rhea. Despite Rhea's advances Dominik is clueless to how this may look to everyone else. Even Television thinks they are exclusive, though its not true. Youll ignore it until she ticks you off horribly.

Dominik is sitting by Finn and everyone else is moving to sit by eachother, you walk towards Dominik to sit on the other side of him when Rhea plops down beside him. You inhale shortly and exhale just as quickly trying to control your breathing and to calm down. You cough to bring her attention to you standing in front of her, "Do you care to scoot over? I want to sit next to my boyfriend" I ask less than patient. You think for a moment that this will go smoothly, that for once she will step down and not be so persistent. Everything goes south quickly though when Rhea laughs and lays her arm on Dominiks shoulder, "I like sitting next to Dom Dom though".

Heat is burning throughout your body... you took up wrestling to channel your anger properly but moments like this bring out something uncontrollable. Dominik's face contorts at the conversation and how Rhea laughed at you, he's beyond confused why his girlfriend and friend are fighting. You take another short breath focusing on the stinging in your palm, from how tight your fists are wound together. You only stare at her for a moment before she leans over to a unexpecting Dominik and whispers in his ear. Dominik turns to face her quickly obviously astonished by what she said.

You grab her by the shirt straps pulling her up from the couch harshly and you push her backwards with the same amount of force. "You got something to say?" you ask her menacingly raising your eyebrows in question. You had no doubt that Rhea was going to want to fight after you pushed her, actually it was a given that she was going to come towards you full blazing. Dominik flew off the couch watching you push Rhea, FInn and Damian follow suit only observing for a moment to see how far this will go. Rhea steps towards you quickly ready to hit, Dominik moves towards you both but he isn't quick enough to stop the inevitable.

Rhea sends a painful slap across your face making your head turn in the same direction. Dominik feels useless in these moments but nonetheless all the boys get closer to break it up. You are too angry to be mature, you dont share. You take a moment to think of the all times shes whispered in his ear and all the times she complimented him flirty. You whip your head back around the your fist follows suit hitting her across the nose, you use your upper hand to push her to the floor and to straddle her. Rhea groans and tries to roll out from under you, Dominik and Finn are pulling on your back and shoulders to get you off. Your squirming makes it all so much harder for them.

Your anger diminished with every hit you plant onto her and every hit she lands makes your adrenaline so much fuller. Dominik and Finn manage to pull you off of her with curses spewing from their mouths. Damian holds onto Rhea by the shoulders to make sure she doesn't get up and try to start it all again. Your arms are basically behind your back while everyone is processing the fist fight that broke out. You stare at Rhea with blood trickling from your eyebrow and your chest heaving from the workout. "Want to sit by him now?!" you yell at her leaning forward some to get your point across. You can feel Dominik's hand tighten a little, finally understanding the origin of the fight.

Rhea sits up against Damians legs still prideful, "Fuck you" she spits out holding her nose in pain. Damian speaks from behind her "Alright that's enough lets go" he says tugging Rhea up by her armpits. Rhea doesnt really complain she just scoffs and walks out, Finn lets go of your arms when Rhea leaves. Finn sits back down on the couch roughly mutter profanities at the situation and the exhusation of holding such a strong woman back.

Your anger is starting to fade and the dull ache of your knuckles becomes more prominent but its nothing you cant handle. You roll your shoulders back to relax your body even more but Dominik's hands are still on your shoulders holding you still. You turn your head to try and peg the reaction Dominik will have. He looks lost himself, like hes not sure how to react to what happened. He cant decide if he should be angry or extremely turned on... but the latter is really calling his name. He clears his throat before moving his face closer to your ear, "Are you jealous?" he asks breathlessly. You roll your eyes at his constant obliviousness, "If me beating her ass didn't answer that question then I dont know what will", you mutter craning your neck to get a glimpse of him.

You can hear Finn snort from the couch at the ridiculous display he just seen and witness. Finn stands up to leave the room laughing to him shaking his head at Dominik. You manage to break out of Dominiks grip on your shoulders to face him. Your heart stings a little because you can clearly see conflict within Dominiks eyes, he doesn't want to loose anyone he loves. He sighs thinking this was his fault, "Im sorry--". You shush him putting your finger on his lips, you glance down at his lips and he glances down at your hand on him. You remove your finger and you grab his vest pulling his face and lips towards you. You kiss him a few times with a smack, you push your lips against him and he reciprocates pushing down against you.

You move the hair out his face taking a moment to reassure him, "Me and her will talk about it, okay? You're not losing anyone today". Dominik sighs in relief knowing that his girlfriend is in tune with his emotions. He nods and your heart and cheeks warm at his cuteness. Dominik takes his thumb and rubs it over the small cut and bruise lightly, "Does it hurt?" he asks calmly and concerned. You take that same hand in yours and you kiss the back of his hand, "A little. But you should've seen the other guy". You mimicked him from all the times he's gotten hurt. Dominik laughs a little grabbing your chin to pull you to him again, connecting your lips one more time before leaving to smooth things over.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

X Men Evolution. Yandere Lance with little sister reader who has the ability to control air.

Aaaaawwwww! Siblings! Let's see if we can't give the rock guy a sibling! (I do gender-neutral Reader). Let's give you something good:

Being in the foster care system was tough.

It made Lance a rougher, harder person, hard to break and tough to crack. His powers only made him stronger, able to cause earthquakes and control the rocks underfoot. But he did have a soft spot for one person:

You.

You were his little sibling, his good luck charm, his Blarney Stone, the one person who could make him feel better with no effort at all. Just look at you:

You were perfect.

Not to mention your powers complimented his.

Air manipulation. The ability to control the air and use its full force, creating strong gusts of wind, cool breezes in the heat, and a powerful current capable of toppling someone thrice your size over.

Wind wears down rock, rock stands through wind, erosion and sediment and all of that.

Point was, you were the (literal) winds beneath his (figurative) wings. Where he went, you came with, and wherever you went, he wasn't far to follow.

That being said-

He hated having to share you with others.

The Brotherhood was okay. Not great, but a lot better than other places. He was more or less the leader, and the others (eventually, if not immediately) followed orders. They could fun to hang out with, each with their own unique gifts and talents (usually causing chaos with them). They were pretty alright with him.

Except for right now, when they were hogging you from him.

"C'mon, Lance. They're sweet as pie! Plus they say they can make it!" Fred told him, while Pietro was talking a mile a minute with you.

"Yo, man, they're a good one. Why can't we hang out with them more? Aren't we their friends too?" Toad wheedles, sitting atop his perch on Fred's shoulder. He almost acts like a parrot, or hawk, or some bird that isn't far from its falconry friend.

"And you've bothered them enough. Reader, come on! We're taking a ride somewhere!" Lance calls, and that catches his little sibling's attention, while earning him an annoyed look from Pietro. Yeah, look, he gets it, his sibling is awesome and listens to everyone and tries to be inclusive. But they're HIS sibling, and that means HE should be able to hang out with them without the others stealing them away every five minutes.

"Okay! Where're we going, Lance-a-lot?" you ask, using the nickname you gave him. The other teens snicker, until you turn and give them a sharp look. "Stop laughing! NOW!" The air in the room goes freezing cold, blasting sharply at them, earning a small shriek from Toad and Pietro. "Hmph!"

"Good job, squirt. You're my dragon in shining scales," Lance praises gently, and the Teo of you leave to head to his Jeep. "Oh, and guys? They're my sibling."

That earns a few shocked looks as well as questions, but the two of them are out the door and soon sitting in the old Jeep, picking out a destination. "So, what's it gonna be, squirt? Where do you wanna go?" he asks, giving his sibling a soft smile.

"McDonalds!" you cheer, a wide grin on your face. "That way we can share the chicken nuggets!"

"Okay, to McDonalds!"

Man, he loved being your brother...

"Hey, Lance, hey, kid. Can we get slushies?"

"AH!"

"Oh, hi Wanda!"

Well, at least it's just Wanda...

Wait...

"How did you get in my Jeep?!"

"I slept in here."

"..."

"..."

"Can we still get McDonalds?"

He sighs.

"Yeah, we can still get McDonald's."

"Oh yeah, man, can we come too?"

"WHY ARE YOU HERE?!"

"Stops screaming Lance and drive," Pietro orders from the back.

"Yeah, Lance! They have Ty Beanie Babies in their Happy Meals!"

... Well, at least he gets to spend SOME time with his sibling... Plus his friends. At least he doesn't have to fight the X-Teens over them...

[ghostlynachopanda]

Nevermore's Guardian

a/n: So, I've never done this before but I did want to give it a shot just to see what it's like. feel free to tell me anything about this, I'm painfully aware it needs work

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader

---

How can you be a reject in a school full of outcasts? You don’t think there's anything that would set you apart from everybody else at school. You would consider yourself to be relatively normal, or as normal as one can get with being an outcast. You have powers, sure they're dangerous but can be helpful too. Typically only using them to help out around the school or Jericho. You've gained the title "Nevermore's Guardian", you would think the name would come with benefits. It's quite the opposite, there is no room for fuck ups and no one wishes to speak to you anymore. What a fucking joke.

There might be a rule that comes with the title, one that states no one can speak to you. Maybe the other students just don't care. The only person who does speak to you is Principal Weems, but she's the principal and all she does is give orders/advice. It’s better this way, having no friends. It makes it easier to do your job.

There's a transfer mid-semester, that's shocking. Weems told you to keep an eye on her and advised you to stay away. With a quick nod, you were out the door, no need for more words.  Fine, whatever Weems wants. After all, following orders is what you do best. Except it's harder than you thought it would be. Seeing her in the quad with her roommate was even more shocking. She sticks out like a sore thumb, and the black outfit really draws attention to her. You heard the rumors about her, Wednesday Addams. Maybe that's what makes everyone's eyes fall on her. It's refreshing, to see someone that's genuinely different from the others.

Wednesday noticed you almost instantly, and she starts seeking out your information. Wednesday starts by trying herself, then by asking people about you, the first person is her roommate, Enid. Upsettingly, all Enid knew was you were called "Nevermore's Guardian", how can she know so little when she writes a blog that gossips about everybody? Wednesday went to ask her other classmates, but they knew less than Enid. Wednesday even went to Weems, but she was also little help, only providing your first name. Simply put, you're an enigma. Wednesday can't seem to shake her growing curiosity, why doesn't anyone know anything about you? She sends Thing to follow you around after class, but it’s easy to lose him and disappear completely. It's weird at first, considering it's just a hand. But seeing Thing crawl into Wednesday's dorm tells you everything you need to know. You want to ask her what her issue is. It's better not knowing though, Weems seems to have her on a tight leash, so why even bother with her, with Wednesday-

A quiet sigh escapes your lips, walking through the woods always makes your thoughts run more than they should. Shaking your head slightly, trying to rid of these unuseful thoughts, turning your attention to the woods. The peacefulness of the woods goes unappreciated by most, it's beautiful when the moon is at its peak. Quiet enough to make you want to sleep, you can only guess your drowsiness and thoughts are what allowed her to sneak up on you.

"You're hard to track down, I'm impressed."

Your eyes widen and there's a small falter in your step. As minuscule as it may be, it's enough for her to notice, enough for her to know you heard her. 'shit, I didn't even hear her footsteps', you thought, angry with yourself.  Weems' voice rings in your head, 'you'll want to stay away'. Deciding it would be better to follow her advice, you keep walking, planning to finish the rounds and get back to your room. You hear footsteps behind you this time, they're quick, probably trying to catch up to you. "If you don't turn around I'll stab you.", she sounds mad, or is this what she always sounds like? This is the first time you've ever heard her voice, it's as beautiful as she is. When you don't acknowledge her there's a small huff and more footsteps, but this time they sound more like stomping. The crunching of the leaves and the snaps of the branches are too loud for this atmosphere.

Maybe this one time wouldn’t hurt, just this one and then go back to being alone. Hopefully, it'll sate her curiosity. Coming to a complete stop, she steps closer until she's within arms reach. Turning your head enough for her to get a side view, you pause for a second. You knew she was pretty, but seeing her up close is different from what you were expecting, even if she just threatened to hurt you. You look at her long enough to see her eyes travel your body, most likely judging the clothes you decided to wear. When her eyes find your face, you send her a gentle, closed-eyed smile and in an even gentler voice say,

"Sorry, Wednesday."

And you're gone, just like that, leaving her alone in the woods. Oh, how Wednesday plans to find out everything about you.

[promptthebear]

Dude no way! I dint realise you wrote for slashers! Could I please request Bo Sinclair with 🐰“If I have to tell you again, I won’t be this nice.” Thanks!

Hello!

Sorry this took so long, but congratulations on being my first Bo request! I probably could've done something smutty with this prompt for sure, but did more of like an enemies to lover type vibe? Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

Easter Askbox Event- Bo Sinclair x Reader

CW: ****Toxic relationship dynamic!!!!**** It's Bo so obviously it's going to be unhealthy as shit. Swearing. Misogynistic name calling, but reader is into it. Reader is manhandled by Bo. Dom/Sub dynamic. Use of the word sir. Spicy but not explicit. F!reader, referred to in 2nd person as "you" Again, what it says on the tin, this is darker compared to my usual stuff you've been warned.

Bo was lying underneath his truck when you showed up. He heard you before he saw you, the sound of your flip flops echoing through the empty streets. He grit his teeth as the sound got closer, knowing that whatever you wanted now, it was most certainly going to be a pain in his ass. He’d made it very clear since your arrival that he wanted nothing more than for you to fuck off and leave him alone, but somehow you still weren’t getting the message.

A flash of pink in Bo’s peripheral, your diy pedicure, told him he was no longer alone. He ignored you anyway, carrying on with his repairs as though your presence didn’t make a lick of difference in his eyes. Hopefully, you’d realize he wasn’t in he mood and go bother Lester or Vincent.

“Bo? I know you can hear me.”

No such luck.

“So? Doesn’t mean I have anything I wanna say to you.”

His voice was slightly muffled coming out from under the car, but you could hear the annoyance dripping from every syllable. Huffing softly, you reached out and nudged Bo’s knee with your toe. When no response came, you did it again, a little harder this time.

“Bo?”

“Jesus H. Christ.”

Slowly, Bo began to work his way out from beneath the truck, grumbling and grunting like a bear being pulled from its cave. You took a step back, in part to give him some room and also to give yourself a chance to admire the view. Even in cut offs, busted up sneakers and a filthy tank top, Bo wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes. His toned arms and knife sharp jaw more than made up for his lack of fashion sense. If it wasn’t for his constant scowl, he might have been the most handsome man you’d ever seen.

“If I ever forget my name, I’ll know who to ask” he glared at you from beneath the brim of his ball cap “Someone better be fuckin’ dying.”

You tilted your chin up and squared your shoulders back slightly, before matching his glare with one of your own.

“You said you were gonna drive me into town today.”

Bo let out a sigh that seemed to come from the soles of his feet, muttered something you couldn’t make out, and leaned down to grab a grey rag from his toolbox. He began wiping the grease off his hands, and you watched the way the veins in his arms flexed with interest.

“I said if the truck was working, I’d take ya. But it ain’t, so that means you can either go ask Lester to drive you or start walking.”

“Lester’s out on a job” you shot back “And it’s too hot to walk.”

Bo shook his head and grinned, his teeth somehow blindingly white in spite of how much he smoked. You knew well enough by now, though, that for Bo, smiling meant the same thing as a dog bearing its teeth. This was a warning, one he’d be sure to make good on if you kept pushing.

“Tough shit for you then, darlin’”

You bristled visibly, which only made Bo smile even wider. He was toying with you now, and as always, you’d played right into his hands.

Gotcha.

“I told you, do not call me that.”

For a moment, Bo was too distracted by a drop of sweat that trickled down from your hairline to your jaw to answer. He watched as the droplet made its way down the curve of your neck and over your collar bones before disappearing between your breasts. You were dressed in a halter top and shorts that barely covered your ass. Looking at you made Bo feel all hopped up and crazy, like he was a horny teenager again. He wanted nothing more than to slam you into the nearest wall and fuck the sass out of you.

“I’m sorry darlin” he drawled, taking extra care to emphasize the pet name “Snapping your fingers may have gotten that little JV boyfriend of yours to jump to attention, but it’s gonna take whole lot more than the promise of a two minute fuck to get me to pay you any mind.”

“Please, you wouldn’t even last that long.”

Bo’s expression changed so fast, it scared you a little. You’d seen him fly off the handle a million times, throwing shit and screaming abuse at Vincent, but this was different. Something about the way his jaw tightened and the way his eyes flashed told you what you’d tapped into was deeper, darker. This was a whole new side to Bo, and you wanted to see exactly how far down the rabbit hole you could go.

“The fuck did you just say to me?”

His voice was a low and eerily calm, the growl of a predator who’d cornered its prey.

“You heard me.”

Silently, Bo lunged at you. You tried to sidestep him, but he was too quick. He caught you round he waist first, and pulled your body to his so quickly you banged your head off his sternum. While you were still blinking away stars, he grabbed a fistful of your hair, and yanked back, hard. Your eyes stung with delicious tears, and the smell of smoke and spiked sweet tea on his breath made you dizzy.

“I think I need to bend you over the hood of my truck and show you just how wrong you are. Of course, then anyone walking by could see how we deal with mouthy little sluts around here. Would you like that?”

You let out a sound that was between a whimper and a moan. It seemed to excite Bo even further, and he licked his lips before he spoke.

“Use your words, honey.”

You took a shaky breath, your body trembling with fear and arousal.

“N-no.”

A faint smirk played around Bo’s mouth. His grip on your hair tightened, and he brought the hand around your waist up to grab your jaw. You’d been trying to turn your face away, to get what little distance from him you could and now you were trapped. He was making you look at him, his blue eyes almost black.

“No…what?”

You stared at him, pupils blown wide, wondering what the hell he wanted. Then it dawned on you.

“No…sir.”

A deep, rich chuckle rumbled in Bo’s chest. He ran a thumb over your lips, the gesture weirdly soothing considering how tightly he was holding onto you. Then, without warning, he pushed you away. You stumbled and fell backwards onto the ground, your palms stinging where the gravel bit into them.

“Go on now, git.”

You stared up at him, your bottom lip trembling as the tears in your eyes finally began to spill down your cheeks. Humiliation and desire swirled in your gut. You felt hot, bothered and bruised, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to deck Bo in the face or kiss him.

“What the fuck are you waiting for? I told you to git. If I have to tell you again, I won’t be this nice.”

You scrambled to your feet, barely missing the spray of gravel Bo kicked your way. Still crying, you started to run back up the road. You could feel Bo’s eyes burning into your back, but you refused to turn around. You knew if you did, you’d go right back there and let him play out every twisted fantasy he had with you. But there was no way in hell you wanted him to think he’d won.

For now, you’d have to go back to your room, lick your wounds and satisfy yourself with your hand. Come tomorrow, you’d see if Bo was ready to make good on his threat.

[enihk-writes]

[dancing in the dark, in the pale moonlight]

pairing: baek cheon x afab!she/her!reader

summary: fuck that stupid ass job that almost cost you your relationship, am i right?

word count: 5.54k

[01] ║ [02]

content warning: an attempt at the reader's life // reader's injuries are gory (kinda) // mentions of someone (not the reader) being buried alive // misogyny as per the product of the era // reader talks a little on religion and the afterlife

author's note: i started writing this the moment i posted the other part because my brain was still working in high gear and all... i'll have to postpone my other baek cheon fic for a while,,, i wrote topics in that one that are a bit toooo heavy for me rn. i researched on fashion through the dynasties in china for like,, one short segment on the story. so anyways... if my guess is correct hwasan timeline is most likely inspired by the sui or tang dynasty during the 581-907 AD which means that the spirit here is going to be from the qin or han dynasty around 220 AD and most martial artists uniforms come from this era iirc. i feel like i might not actually use this research too closely,, but i had to put this in to tell yall about what i found lol...

[PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY TRIGGERS CAUSED BEYOND THIS LINE]

═══════════════

by the time you arrived at the deserted manor, the clock had struck midnight. and in a few moments, the spirit or spirits behind all the bride murders would be making their appearance.

chief...

the vice-captain starts, uncharacteristically. they've always been on the quieter side, never really talking unless they were spoken to. you raise your eyebrows, curious about what got them to speak up.

chief, please be careful.

you smile softly, tussling the vice-captain's hair.

i will.

you look around for a moment. hm, looks like you'd have to put in your best effort tonight, as the oldest since these kids relied on you. with a flick of your hand, everyone on site dispersed to their assigned positions, waiting for their next orders.

you stood all alone outside of the bedroom, waiting patiently for the critters to grow quiet. animals, after all, are said to have a keen sense for things outside of the human realm.

finally, the long-awaited silence fell onto the empty courtyard and you slide open the doors to the room — stepping in carefully. your padded feet barely making a sound as you walk into the carpeted room. from where you stood, you could see the shadows cast by the sparse furniture under the dim moonlight. you hadn't decorated the place, not really seeing any need to.

click.

the doors to the bedroom had been slid shut. you fold your arms behind your back. the spirit should be here soon.

hehehe...

a tinkling laugh swept past behind you in the dark bedroom.

you grip the short blade hidden under your sleeves, honing your senses to pin down the other presence with you at that moment. it was harder than anything you've done before, were you dealing with something far bigger than what you were capable of?

no. you had to snap out of that thought. if not you, then who would get rid of this vicious entity? those kids were still too inexperienced, you shouldn't grow disheartened now.

sighing, you walk around the room, stopping by the open window, looking up at the moon hanging in the cloudless sky.

how peculiar, it seemed the longer you were staring at it, the heavier your eyelids felt. it was almost bewitching, looking at the moon, you wonder if it was a trick of your hearing or was the moon calling you to move closer towards it? and also —

wasn't the room growing awfully cold?

your body reacted faster than your mind did, the blade whistling as it cut through the air to slice at the shadow forming behind you.

an ear-piercing hiss came from the shapeless being, slowly backing away as its features took form in the body of a girl no older than sixteen. she clutched her neck, and though the cut was shallow, she certainly looked like she felt the pain from it.

how dare you cut me!

she yells and lunged at you, catching your neck in her hands as she pins you to the ground, the furniture around you clattering away from the impact. you were sure you could've heard a bone crack in you.

keugh...!

you felt the air leave your body, you tried to breathe but it was hard, with the way her hands pressed down on your throat. how was a dead spirit this strong? your fingers grip the blade tighter, cautiously getting it ready so she wouldn't see.

with a swift action, you stabbed into the girl's side and she retreated to the furthest corner of the room with an almost animalistic growl, all while glaring at you.

you throw the ripped veil off your head, the flowers falling off and your hair coming undone. you stood up, wincing at the dull throbbing in your head, your vision going blurry for a moment — curse your anaemia for acting up now of all times.

you crazy hag! i can't believe you fucking stabbed me!

okay, now that was just straight-up disrespectful.

hag?

hag?

oh, so the insane bride-killing ghost that died at sixteen years ago, even before you were born, wasn't the hag — but you were? you were the hag? where the hell was the justice in that, huh?

you roll your eyes and sigh. no, you shouldn't be swayed by your short temper, you shouldn't let the spirit find an opening to attack you. remember — you had to finish the job before the night ended and the spirit got away.

you walk towards the girl in large strides, arms raised above your head, ready to strike her down with the purification sword. you didn't want to think about how much worse it could get if a spirit that didn't know how strong it was found out about its strength. not leaving a trace of their presence after such a gruesome act? you shudder from the thought.

the girl begins to cry.

you tell yourself that this was all an act, but it was hard to convince yourself. especially when the spirit had curled herself into a ball, shaking in fear, her eyes peeking out from her arms to look at you like a scared little girl.

your movements falter.

that was a mistake.

a hazy, clawed hand unfurls from behind her and reached out to slash at your chest, right where your heart lay. you stagger backwards, the cut had been deep enough to have you cough up blood. as your open wounds stained your already red dress darker, the shadow lingered at your feet, seemingly trying to collect your blood.

you tried to move back but you weren't fast enough.

the girl lunges at you again, but this time, her spirit went straight for your core, in a final attempt to possess your body and finish you off, probably.

as you fought to stay conscious amidst the myriad of voices assaulting your mind, you think back to something your master told you in passing when you were still in training.

something about spirits and their last will?

silly girl, every spirit has a last will. and not everyone knows what to do with that will. their grief takes the form of vengeance and i can only hope you know what to do when you ever come across a restless soul like that.

═══════════════

you wake up facing a young village girl.

gasping, you stumble backwards and hit a hard surface. but, it was weird. well more accurately, it felt weird. you were sure you were in a wooden house, so the walls would be rougher, so why did it feel fuzzy?

wait. the girl didn't seem to see you.

you walk cautiously around her, looking at her features carefully. her skin was tan from the time she spent under the sun, it was a little uneven and spotty in some areas. she was just a teenager, and that was kind of expected. you follow her gaze and see that she had been looking at herself in the mirror.

you wave your hand in front of her eyes to get a reaction out of her. she didn't seem to notice.

you blew air to see if she would hear it, but not even a single strand of her hair budged.

defeated, you try to swing your arm and slap her back — only for your whole arm to phase through her body.

ah?

your mouth hung open in shock. your whole arm went through a person, have you truly died and become a spirit?

no. that wasn't it. you reason with yourself.

this was the ghost's doing, and she wasn't here with you right now. this scene unfolding before your eyes, could they be a clue on her, or were they a distraction to fool you?

a horse whinnies on the road outside the girl's window. a barrow wheel squeaks as it turns, the horse's feet clipping noisily on the pavement. you peek past the wooden panes, eyeing the passing residents. their clothes were all plain and coloured in dull or muted tones. the texture looked rough. this wasn't a well-off part of town.

you look at the village girl. her hair was slicked back and tied into a low bun. her clothes were a little worn and a little dirty at the hems. her hands and feet calloused from the years of hard labour.

小燕！

the voice of an older woman calls from another part of the house, wiping her hands on her apron, the girl fixed her appearance one last time before she scurries towards the direction of the voice, while you stayed behind in the room

xiao-yan? as in little sparrow?

my name is actually 春燕 (chūn yàn). my mother just likes to call me xiao-yan at home.

the ghost had been standing next to you, her voice still edged on hostility but was softer now, nonetheless.

your mother?

the person calling to me.

the ghost walks out of the room as you trailed behind, looking past to see the old woman sitting on a chair by the doorway. needle and thread in hand, patching at tattered clothes. her crows' feet settling deeply on her features.

my xiao-yan ah... please be careful on your way out... come home before dark okay? don't make me worry okay?

you worry too much ma.

the village girl, or rather, the human incarnation of the spirit next you chirped as she made her way out the door. you wondered what the spirit was trying to show you, was this her life story before she crossed the bridge into death?

you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to ask more questions. the spirit continued to narrate.

i forgot everything about my time alive, except for this one day.

a sigh.

everything went wrong all in this one day.

═══════════════

you blink your eyes slowly, now walking alongside the village girl and the spirit. to your left you could see the sprawling acres of farmland and the town bustling with life below. looking ahead and past the hanging branches stood a towering gate.

no one had to tell you that this was where the lord's family lived.

the girl was led to the main hall where the lord and lady of the house resided. you and the spirit followed closely behind, passing through the countless maids and attendants working around the compound, it was fascinating seeing how no one could see or sense either of you. two beings who were not a product of this era, your bloody clothes and the ghost's tattered ones, you both stood out like sore thumbs.

it was silent. muted, almost, in the main hall. the lord and lady sat side by side as their son stood by his mother, his hand resting reassuringly on her shoulder.

do you know why we have called you here today?

the lord asks, gravely.

no, my lord.

the village girl shakes her head, confusion swirling in her eyes, as she sat on the ground, kneeling before the family.

the lady grows agitated, she leans forward in her chair, opening her mouth to spew a tirade of grievances when the young master of the house gently pushes his mother to lean back in her chair.

let me, dear mother.

the village girl feels her heart race from his smooth and velvety voice. she'd only ever heard about the young master through rumours and quick glimpses through the crowd, so to be this close to him, the other girls from the village would be shaking in envy. she quietly notes that he was much more stunning up close — she must be really lucky today.

perhaps she had been staring for too long because the young man had cleared his throat awkwardly.

miss, i assume you must have heard about my older brother?

she nods, remembering the procession from earlier that year.

yes, may the first young master rest in peace.

the room grows silent to pay their respects to the deceased.

the young man spoke up again.

we are worried for my brother in the afterlife. he died without ever getting wed. we don't really want him to be made fun of by other spirits in the afterlife you know?

the village girl grows confused. she wasn't sure what he was getting at. what has the marital status of a dead man have to do with her?

the fortune teller we consulted has calculated that you are the best marriage candidate for my oldest son. so we want you to get married to him as soon as possible. by tonight if time permits.

with her voice shrill from agitation, the lady of the house sits up, fist shaking in the village girl's face, unable to contain her anger at the young girl's supposed stupidity.

the village girl on the other hand, felt her jaw go slack, she tried not to let it hang open from the shock of her lady's words.

marriage? to a dead man?

she's heard of horror stories of young brides being buried together with their deceased husbands whom they had married before his life expired. but those were supposed to be just stories! not an actual practice... right?

miss, i don't know what you might be thinking. but i assure you that this marriage will not be as morbid as it sounds. take it as any other marriage ceremony, except without the groom. you just have to sign papers and be my brother's bride on official documents! after that, you and your family will be rewarded handsomely for the trouble. this won't take over a day!

sensing the village girl's worrying silence, the young master interjects quickly, wringing his hands trying to close this deal as soon as he can. the faster their family gets this done and over with, the faster his life can continue from this standstill. his thinking was truly like a businessman's.

hearing that her little contribution would be compensated generously, she didn't think twice before agreeing to the suspicious deal. if it was like that then, when she goes home with the money, her mother wouldn't have to work anymore.

well, if that's the case, let's start the preparations now. the faster we get this done, the faster we can all go on with our lives.

the lord finally spoke up and with a clap of his hands, the room was filled with attendants, most of them surrounding the confused village girl. helping her to her feet in hushed tones, taking her away to presumably prepare for the ceremony that night.

the spirit follows the crowd and you hesitate following behind. the whole exchange felt off to you. surely, if you stayed here the family might let something slip, something that would prove your suspicions.

though you didn't have much choice in this matter. the features of the people in the room began to melt and drip, the scene morphing rapidly to the next part of the spirit's memory.

that's right, you had forgotten again. everything you saw was from the spirit's perspective. anything else beyond that was all up to one's imagination. was there really nothing you could do?

you hated this feeling.

this feeling of knowing something is going to go wrong, yet being so powerless to stop it from happening.

═══════════════

imagine having to sit in a tight space with a spirit, and a memory fragment who doesn't know you and the spirit exists. there was only that much space in the palanquin, and your knees touched the spirit's even when you were hugging them to your chest.

sorry about the space...

you try to start a conversation. but the other just wasn't interested, opting to stare at the image of herself — the village girl sitting across the both of you in this tiny palanquin. you look around the boxed space, noting the shoddy workmanship. looks like those nobles were really in a rush to get this done and over with.

the wind picks up and the curtains flutter upwards.

the night scenery was beautiful but—

this isn't the way to the lord's house?

the village girl mutters. and you had begun to think the same. sitting up with your senses heightened, you try to make out where the attendants were taking the girl. the spirit continued to remain unfazed.

something bad was about to happen. wasn't it?

the movements stopped abruptly, and you felt the palanquin being set down on the ground. the curtain slides open, a slender hand reaches out to guide the village girl sitting inside.

don't take his hand...

you try to tell the girl, you didn't like the heavy smell of incense and dirt surrounding the area. but of course, you were nothing more than a spectator to this whole ordeal.

you watch on helplessly next to the spirit as two footmen threw the village girl into the freshly dug-up pit. the fortune teller circles the pit, tossing water into the hole as she chants mantras of matrimony. all while the village girl calls for help, begging tearfully for mercy and her life. the overwhelming feelings of her fear washing over you again and again, knocking the air out of your lungs at each crashing wave, your heart squeezing tightly in your chest.

it seemed as though this just wouldn't end, as you watched the dirt fill up the hole and the poor girl's voice grow tired and hoarse, the pain grew from your heart to the tips of your fingers and dropped down to your stomach, swinging up and down like a pendulum continuously, making you even more nauseous than you already were.

but finally.

finally, the ordeal stopped. the sensations you felt lifting and leaving your body in a heated mass. everyone stayed silent at that moment, letting the sins of what had occurred sink into them. no one spoke, no one dared breathe a sound under the moonlight, lest the spirit of the village girl heard them.

there was shuffling and low greetings of reverence left the people's lips as they all stepped aside for a hunched-over man in heavy white robes to make his way to the edge of the covered-up pit. you could tell from where you were knelt over in pain that he was an exorcist similar to you.

he mummers prayers and covers the ground in talismans written in red ink, bells shaking with each step he took. binding chains reaching up from the scattered talismans to wrap around the spirit taking shape above them. poor girl, even in death, she wasn't allowed to rest in peace.

═══════════════

you blink, wincing at the bright sun shining into your eyes.

the spirit stands next to you, chains holding her down on the ground. you didn't have to look to see that you were both above her grave.

i was so stupid, believing all those lies. my mother collapsed when she heard about what happened to me. she couldn't pay for the house and she eventually died in an alley without anyone finding her corpse until days later when rats had already gotten to her. maybe if they had given her that money they promised to me, i wouldn't have been as angry about dying like this.

the spirit clenched her fists, teeth gnashing together in rage.

as if burying me alive wasn't enough, they called a fucking exorcist to cleanse this area, all because they were scared i would come and bite back at them for doing this to me.

the spirit's voice grows more irritated.

it's not fair! it's not fair! why do they get to die and move on to the afterlife? why did they get to continue to live their lives like my blood isn't on their hands? why did they get to have a happy marriage, a healthy baby watch their children and their children's children grow up to have their own families like my life was just... was just...

the spirit, no — chun-yan, began to cry, her back heaving as her sorrowful wails pierced your heart. she was just a girl. she was just a little girl barely on the cusp of adulthood. how could anyone be this cruel to her? how could the heavens let this happen?

you reach out to hold her in your arms, letting her cry her dead little heart out.

you wished things could be better for her. you truly did, however, what about all the innocent lives she had taken in vengeance? she still has to atone for that action.

it was abit of a shot in the dark, she didn't tell you nor did her memories reveal anything to you. but to free her spirit, you had to fulfil a wish of hers, this was the one and only shot that you had with this. if you got it wrong, you might have to go through a harsher method of exorcism. you hoped it wouldn't go to that stage.

yan-ah.

the girl sniffles.

chun-yan.

hm?

she asks you her eyes watery and tired.

is this the wish you had while you were dying?

you ask, throwing over the red veil slightly tattered at the edges, somehow still in your possession. you smooth the crinkles over the girl's head like an older sister would on her younger sister's big day.

═══════════════

the memory was collapsing.

you look around the dark space around you, taking a while to register that you were back in the bedroom where this whole thing first began. you lean back with a sigh, your head was starting to spin, you were sure that by tomorrow, you would be down with a fever.

chun-yan stood up, making her way to the vanity with a mirror at the other end of the room. she looks at herself for a long time in the mirror. a strong gust of wind blows through the open windows, toppling the remaining standing furniture. the curtains billowed in the currents, hiding chun-yan behind them.

your worries subsided when the winds died down and brought down the curtains with them, revealing chun-yan now dressed in proper wedding attire. a clean and crisp red veil, a long and thick wedding dress made of red silk with golden decorations embroidered into the fabric. the girl's hair was done up in two half buns with fresh peonies and flower buds woven into the thick tresses.

you bite back from making any noise. your heart swelled with a bittersweet feeling. you wished chun-yan's mother, the little old lady who you've only caught a glimpse of, could see her beloved daughter like this too. you rub your nose, sniffling.

...it suits you well.

chun-yan looks longingly at the moon, and then turns her gaze towards you. fidgeting, she asks quietly.

am i going to hell now?

yeah. you are.

your shoulders drop and you look at her sadly. you wished you could give her good news. you wished the world to be more fair, but you weren't god. you were merely someone who built bridges for spirits to cross over to the afterlife, in the end.

because i killed all those people... right?

you nod.

is it going to be scary?

probably.

chun-yan fiddles with her thumbs, picking on her nails.

mother always told me that bad people go to hell. and i became a bad person that's why i'm going there... right?

chun-yan... listen.

you ponder for a moment, you didn't really want to send her off with this heavy feeling.

sometimes, good people also go to hell. and it's because these good people made a mistake... and then another... and then another without stopping or thinking about stopping. and when they realise that they have been doing all these terrible things, they feel bad and if they are willing to atone, i think they should be allowed that chance to change...

you pause.

chun-yan... remember that you are going to hell to repent for the lives you have taken wrongfully. it's not because you were always meant to go there... i think. i hope that's not the case.

what did you want to say, what were you trying to say?

you weren't sure but, you wanted to ease the girl's burden a little.

hm.

chun-yan hummed. taking in your words. it seemed like she had understood something you hadn't. but whatever it was, it must have comforted her.

she stood still, flames growing at her feet. she didn't move or wince from them, letting it grow bigger and engulf her in it. as she disappeared along with the hellfire, she gave you a nod, perhaps as thanks for keeping her memories in your heart. you bow your head in reply, keeping it down until the crackle of the blaze grew quiet.

═══════════════

chief!

good god, who was it yelling so loudly in the morning?

chiiiieeeeffff!

heavens, were they crying? why are they crying like you were dead?

chief... don't die...

even your calm and collected vice-captain? now what was going on?

you try to sit up. emphasis on try, because for some reason you had been swaddled in layers upon layers of bandages. the smell of herbs crushed and rubbed onto your wounds and bruises was overpowering. to put it lightly.

ugh. what's going on.

chief!

the chief is awake!

you're still alive... huhuhuuuuuuu...

a chorus of ecstatic shouting and sobs was heard across the crowd gathered around you. judging by the voices, your best guess was that everyone there was the kids in your unit. seeing how happy they were, you must have passed out after the events of last night. truthfully, you barely remembered stumbling past the doors of the bedroom and into the vice-captain's arms.

all's well, ends well.

now, if the emperor would be so kind to give you a month—

no. a year, off work... you think you would be his biggest supporter. hell, you might even work for free.

but that aside, you think there might just be something you were forgetting right now.

═══════════════

baek cheon had volunteered to keep watch for that night. he barely slept since he came across you in that wedding attire. he was trying not to cry, but he's sure the junior brother sleeping across him must have heard him tossing and turning and borderline sobbing.

it was a little embarrassing to face everyone in the morning with his eyes puffy and face swollen. thank god chung myung wasn't with them this time, or baek cheon would have never heard the end of it.

he sits on a rock further away from where everyone else had set up camp. they were next to a stream, the sloshing of the water and the cackle of the firewood breaking apart soothed his senses. he thinks back to the times he had spent with you when the moon hung high in the sky just like this.

he sighs, leaning back against a tree with arms crossed — his fingers gripping his sleeves as he thinks again about the encounter with you the other night. you looked so pretty in a wedding dress, was he being too delusional when he dreamt about a future where you were wearing that for your marriage to him?

he sulks by himself, feeling jealous of the person he made up in his head, the person that he was sure you were going off to get married to.

he thinks the guy would be a little closer to your height, so that it made sharing kisses easier. the guy might have nicer hair, fluffier and maybe a little matted so you'd have a reason to run your fingers through it. your husband-to-be might have a more childish personality, much like yours so that the both of you would be on the same wavelength. he thinks the guy might also be mature enough, like you were so that you and him would ground each other. the other guy might have nicer skin that was soft and smooth and unblemished. his eyes would be fierce but gentle all at once, the shape of his eyebrows would be thick in a single stroke...

he realised the image of the guy was looking a little too much like chung myung.

tsk. that's no good, he was starting to get even more pissed off and upset.

cheon-ah!

this was no good. he was starting to hear things because of how much he missed you.

cheon-ah!

how was it that he could replicate the sound of your voice in his mind? truly, the yearning of a man in love was so fascinating.

cheon-ah!

baek cheon wonders if he was going crazy for thinking the voice was growing closer to him. poor guy didn't even get the chance to look over before he felt the full weight of somebody colliding with him. his arms instinctively wrapped around the other's waist, his body recognising that it was you faster than his mind would.

you're here?

he asks, bewildered.

baek cheon couldn't wrap his head around how you got to him so quickly. did you really abandon your husband-to-be at the altar like that? for him?

listen to me baek cheon.

the man nods mindlessly, revelling in the warmth of your being so close to his — he was barely listening, let alone registering what you were saying right now.

maybe he should steal in a kiss.

his hand find its way to the back of your head, pushing you down to have your lips meet his. whatever you had been rattling on about died in your throat, muffled sounds of shock morphed into soft sighs. you pull away, moving to sit more comfortably on his lap, legs swinging on either side, straddling him.

holding back a laugh, your arms circle around him, pulling him closer. he hadn't heard a thing you said from having his head up in his own clouds. what were you going to do with this man?

cheon-ah... did you hear what i was saying?

you ask, peppering kisses on his cheek, brushing his hair out of his eyes. baek cheon shakes his head, still very much starstruck.

tsk, tsk...

you tut disapprovingly, pinching his nose, breaking him out of whatever fantasy he was deep into. he looks at you, wide-eyed and a little offended by your gesture. he sulks when he meets your unimpressed stare.

i'm sorry... i'll listen well this time...

he whines quietly. not wanting to lose you to some other man again.

the other night, when you saw me in the wedding dress... it was for an assignment... you ran off before i could tell you about it... my poor baek cheon, tell me you didn't lose sleep over that?

his eyes widen.

an assignment? so... you weren't getting married for real?

the melancholy settling in his bones lifted instantly, his gloomy expression brightened, and his eyes started to sparkle. he didn't care about acting borderline pathetic these past few hours, you weren't getting married to someone else! and that was all that mattered to him right now.

what's going on in that pretty head of yours?

nothing... i... i'm just so happy that i still have a chance...

he mutters the last part of the sentence, hoping that you wouldn't hear it. but you did, of course you did. he can't have let the nature of your occupation slip from his mind now, has he? your squeal of excitement reached his ears, barely registering the flurry of kisses you were raining down all over his face.

cheon-ah! you like me enough to want to marry me? ah! my lovely baek cheon, hehehehe...

you were acting a little strange, he noted. were you ever this affectionate? what's going on?

he catches a whiff of the herbs slathered under your bandages, your forehead brushing past his cheek felt hot in the feverish sense. one closer look at you and he could see your eyes glossing over along with the sniffling you had been trying to hide.

no way... was the great inspector... sick?

you whine, throwing your head back as baek cheon desperately tries to catch you from falling head-first on the rocks. your temperature was rising and your head had begun to spin. no wonder it did, after all, you did run out of the room you were to carry out your bedrest in — without any food in your stomach or any breaks from what happened with the exorcism last night.

you just knew you had to clear things up with baek cheon, the feeling of leaving the misunderstandings in the air, weighing at the back of your mind consistently.

ugh. it was embarrassing to have him see you in this out-of-character state. maybe when you got better, you will have to meet up with him again to talk about your relationship more seriously.

for now though, you just needed him to know how much you liked him back. and that you weren't going to get married to someone else anytime soon.

baek cheon though?

he's going to have to worry about how to explain why you were here to his martial brothers, and also bring you back to your unit somehow. but that was none of your concern, was it? you were already knocked out from the fever catching up to your body.