#love to see a man get a good beating just kidding pleas

[morii-moth]

"this is me on day one of NO rendog !!"

[back2bluesidex]

Dear Darling - JHS [Masterlist/Prologue]

Pairing: Serpent king (imoogi)!Hoseok X Human!Reader

Theme: Angst, dark romance, smut, fantasy au.

Wordcount: 1.5+ for the prologue

Summary: After his bride flees from his clutches and reaches the realm of mortals to reunite with her lover - Hoseok has no choice but to chase her. Upon his arrival to the land of obnoxious humans, he crosses paths with you. You are a small, driven mortal who walks with a load of despair on her back. You are nothing but a delicious meal to him and he wants nothing more than to suck your life out of you, find his runaway wife and return to his kingdom. But much to his dismay, you ruin his plans, make him do what he never imagined doing in 600 years of his life - like making him fall in love and keeping him bound to you.

Warnings: Hoseok is cruel, there maybe some mentions of blood but nothing too crazy, eventual smut, heavy themes, quite dark actually (more will be added with each chapter). NSFW!!

Accepting Taglist Requests.

A/N: Got this idea in a dream.... that's all:')

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue

Masterlist | Patreon (Early access to the chapters)

Jung Hoseok. 

The name was enough to shake the core of dark creatures with terror. Even serpents like him would not dare to cross paths with him. 

He is an ominous creature of the night, rules the realm of darkness. He stays under the shadow and attacks when his preys are at their weakest. 

He is powerful, cruel, horrendous and everything that can be one’s nightmare. And to climb at the peak of his power, to rule the underworld with more and more ruthlessness - he must get married. 

He was about to be completed with the coupling ceremony by now only if - his bride didn’t run away. 

“Do you think I believe you, sir?” Hoseok speaks with a voice so cold that he can clearly see the shiver that runs down the subject's entire body. 

The old man - or more likely - an old serpent is sitting on his knees in front of him. His head is hanging low, palms conjoined with each other to beg the king. 

“You- you must believe me, my lord. I know n-nothing of the lady’s departure.” his voice is trembling but he keeps lying regardless. 

Does he not know Hoseok can see him through? 

“Really? I must believe you?” he laughs, one that prickles on your skin in the worst possible way, “then.. Would you be able to pay the price of my trust?” 

The old being doesn’t say anything. One of Hoseok’s guards pushes the tip of his sword further in his side. That coaxes a reply out of him, “what- what price must I pay, my lord?” 

Hoseok smiles, “I heard you have a freshly transformed son? Only a year old, if I am right. I was wondering how enjoyable it would be to rip off his very new scales one by one and then behead him in front of the entire kingdom?” 

The old man jerks at that “My-My lord. No. I beg you no. I- I will tell you as much as I know.” 

“That’s good. So tell me, where is the soon-to-be queen hiding? Down the sea or up the mountains?” Hoseok bends one of his knees to come face to face with his prey. His heavy cloak falls on the ground as if to make a carpeted floor for the king. 

“She… she has fled to the realm of mortals. My- my brother, who- who is half human has helped her out. I heard that her lover, a gumiho, is settled there. But I swear to my kids, my lord, I don’t know where she is, how she fled. I only helped her in contacting my brother. That’s all.” 

“What? What did you say? Realm of mortals? Her lover is a gumiho?” Hoseok roars, stands abruptly. His anger flares like a ring of fire and as a result dark clouds start swinging in the already dark sky. 

The storm starts raging just as Hoseok’s anger, “Guards! Behead his entire family right this instant! And make sure he watches them die before having the pleasure himself.” 

He ignores the pleas of the old serpent as he walks away. And even if he didn’t ignore those, what could he do? 

The blood that runs in his veins is cold, there is no heart that beats inside his chest. Even monsters call him a beast. He is just that bad. 

But he is even worse to the ones who betray him - like his wife-to-be, who has managed to flee from his grips, who also has fallen in love with the enemies of his kind. 

Only if she wasn’t the chosen one - the one who can increase his powers by tenfold. He would have killed her right the moment he found her. 

However, he can’t do so, not at least now. Before everything he has to find her. He has to visit the realms of humans, whom he loathes so much, to pull her between his clutches again. 

“How are the Mins doing?” Hoseok’s dark eyes focus on the goblet of dark red liquid that sits atop the table. 

On the other side of the table sits his trusted advisor Kim Seokjin. He is probably the only serpent in the kingdom, whom hoseok as a speck of trust on. 

“Thanks to you, my king. They have been running a very successful business on the land of humans.” Kim Seokjin states. 

“Tell them to prepare a comfortable stay for me there. I will be finding and bringing my bride back myself.” Hoseok orders. His fingers curl underneath the goblet in the meantime. 

“My lord, it will not be wise for you to visit alo-”

Hoseok slams the goblet on the table interrupting his advisor, “Mr. Kim, do you perhaps doubt my capabilities? I assume you already know I am more than capable of destroying the entire mortal land all by myself.” 

“Yes, my lord, I am well aware of that. I will convey your message to Min Yoongi.” Kim Seokjin stands on his feet and bends down on a deep bow before leaving the room. 

Hoseok feels a buzz in his cold veins. He is eager to find out how love can be more important than the power he was going to provide Soojin with. 

She could be the queen of this kingdom but she chose to fall in love with a gumiho instead. 

Love? Huh! He scoffs to himself. He is proud that he can feel no such emotions. And he would rather have his scales rip off than falling in love with another creature. 

Extravaganza. 

These lowly human beings know nothing but extravaganza. 

From the full glass buildings to the noisy music on the streets, they overdo everything and anything. 

Hoseok’s eyes scans each and every corner of the mansion that the Mins have organized for him to stay. This, too, is extravagance in every way. 

Min Yoongi, the head of this generation’s half-serpents, sits on both of his knees in front of Hoseok. 

“My king, it is a reward to have a chance of serving you personally. Just name what you want, I will have it presented right before you.” he speaks like the obedient servant that he is.

“A job. I need a job.” Hoseok speaks absent-mindedly. 

“My lord, forgive this lowly creature but did I hear you right? You need a job?” Min Yoongi’s confusion makes Hoseok smirk. 

“Yes, Mr. Min. you heard that right. I need a job to blend with these mortals. I am certain my wife-to-be has put the tigerlilies at work. You might already know, inhaling the pollen of those flowers once is enough to be transformed into any other creature for two nights. And even the King, as I am, is unable to defy its power.” Hoseok comes to stand in front of Yoongi, his hands are kept behind his back. 

His dark eyes find the pale man amusing and quite obedient. 

“Yes, my lord. I am well aware of the magical powers of the flower. About the job - thanks to you, my business here is running well. I can arrange an executive position for you at the company, if you’d like.” 

“Executive?” Hoseok raises one of his perfectly shaped eyebrows, “what kind of work do they do?” 

“They don’t have to do anything much, my lord. I will take care of whatever work your position might be responsible for, you can invest your sole concentration on your task.” Min Yoongi bows lightly. 

“I like your proposition. Tell me how to get to your company.” Hoseok takes a few steps back towards the staircase. The intricate designs of the railing catches his eyes. 

“I will have a car ready for you, if you want to visit now.” 

“I would like that.” 

Hoseok climbs out of the car and stands in front of the large building that the Mins have been ruling with the power of wealth that he had gifted them, some hundred years back. 

He scrutinizes the glass walls. His gaze zeros on his own reflection and he devilishly smiles at the way he looks so human. 

Min Yoongi has arranged some clothes for him. Some black silk pants with a silk shirt and a short cloak that they call a blazer. 

Hoseok has always been proud of the way he looks. But he must admit - he looks even better and more eye-catching in human clothes. 

His, now invisible, scales rise under the material of his clothes when he senses someone else watching him from a short distance. 

He projects his eyes in that direction and finds a woman with petite form, big pebbly eyes and a beautiful face. 

It’s you. 

With just one glance he sees right through you. He can see your breath getting stuck in your throat at the sight of him. He can see the cogs of your brain working and your heart leaping inside of your chest. 

He knows you are getting attracted towards him. And that’s good for him. Having a human right on his foot as a servant can help him in tracing Soojin faster. 

It’s one of his powers to attract his prey, like how a pitcher plant emits a sweet smell to attract insects only to eat those up when those near it. 

But with those innocent eyes, that alluring face - it’s a waste that you are just another moth driven to the flame.

Permanent Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie @mikrokookiex @jjk174 @lallataegi @savageyoongi @jwnghyuns

[skzthelomlhehe]

A lustful collab

Genre: music, fluff, smut, romance, slice of life.

Warnings: sexual descriptions (as the genre suggests)- fingering, harsh language, bleeding, first time, unprotected sex.

Description: In love with your voice he asks for a collaboration. You invite him to your studio but seeing how he was gonna be late you decide to do... Questionable things. And alas he walks in on you doing that cuz you're dumb and forgot to lock the fucking door and things get spicy hehe~

A/N: Heyy! This is my first time writing at Tumblr and also my first take on smut that isn't roleplay lmao the story itself is mostly fluff with smut in between. Hope it doesn't get too stretchy eeee- I literally came up with the plot while listening to connected fr and got even more inspiration from MOVIE by JUNNY srs! anyways~ hope this little delulu one shot can feed yalls delulu hearts~ also PS: A warning is given before the smut starts JUST IN CASE idk why I added it but I did lmao

Vibe with:

It was a beautiful autumn noon. Birds chirping, people probably at home napping or at work or whatever. The street was empty and you were inside your room working on your new song at your parents' house. After a while of humming and singing, you put down your guitar and took off your headphones before looking out the window of your room.

A quiet and peaceful afternoon painted with golden hues of the pretty sunset. Perfect time to record your song. So you decided to take your things which included your guitar, phone, a big tripod and a black foldable chair.

You headed out to the yard with your hands full of stuff barely managing your balance and not accidentally tumbling over and risking every bit of fortune you spent on your set up.

Upon reaching, you successfully manage to put down your stuff in the correct position which was unusual given your extraordinarily clumsy nature. But oh well, luck was just on your side. After you were done with all the silly little labor you finally sat in your chair and started recording. The melody flew gracefully, your guitar cooperated and didn't buzz as your hands guided each note, your voice obeyed your pleas and didn't crack but escaped your lips soft and smooth. The rhymes flowed by as if it were a river devoid of any bounds and for once you didn't feel disrupted or out of breath. Everything went down smoothly which was, once again, quite unusual given your tendency of taking a thousand takes.

All this while, your eyes remained shut as if naturally. You couldn't open them and frankly, neither did you want to. You preferred the soft breeze that tickled your skin, making your hair flow just the tiniest bit. As your song came to an end, you slowly opened your eyes and switched off the recording. Just as you were about to check the video you just took, you were startled by a soft clap followed by a deep, husky yet smooth voice. One that you knew a bit too well. "That was so beautiful! You've got an amazing voice, mate!" The voice spoke out. You looked up, utterly shocked thinking your ears were playing tricks on you. But when you did look up, your heart skipped a beat. In a good way obviously!

There he stood, an averagely tall man, eyes sparkling as if millions of stars were held in them, the dimples at the end of the corner of his smile made you feel like you would drown in them and you honestly don't complain. His hair curled perfectly into a neat fuzz. These details, you knew it too well. A bit too well. Christopher, a well known musician who was the heart throb of many. He's your idol, someone you look upto a lot and also the one who inspired you to go against your family's disapproval and start a career in music. If not for him, you wouldn't be here making music right now.

you quickly put down your guitar on the chair and grabbed your phone stuffing it in your pocket while rushing to him who was standing behind the fence out on the sidewalk. "O-oh gosh thank you...! You flatter me!" You said flustered. You could feel your face getting hotter. Shy? Embarrassed? Flustered? Anything that falls into the similar synonym spectrum, you felt it.

"I'm serious! You make a great deal of a singer." He said, his smile Perking up hiding his eyes. He extended out his hand in a gesture of a shake, "I'm Chris by the way. Just moved here a few days back, nice to meet you!" And almost immediately like the silly fangirl you were, you held his hand, albeit gently unlike those psychos who don't know personal space and bowed "I-I'm Y/N!! It's very nice to meet you too sir!" And with that you just buried your self-esteem deep inside the ground. Sir? Seriously? You could do better Y/N.

Upon blurting out whatever you said, you were met with a rather charming chuckle. You looked up to see the man in front of you laughing, still holding your hand and covering a teeny bit of his smile with his other hand. "You're a funny one, Y/N!" He said, still having the after effects of the little laugh. He let go of your hand, you felt a little disappointed when he did so but you didn't bother to make an expression out of it. "So it seems you live around here? Ive heard you sing but never really saw you before." He spoke, possibly making small talks. "Ah no I used to live here. This is my parents' house, I come by every other week. I live 3 blocks away actually." You spoke quite calmly even though there was a storm raging inside your mind. But no one needs to know that except you and me right? Moving on!

"Ahh~ I see~ well! We'll still be seeing each other some time, no? Can I have your number? I don't really have many friends my age round here." He pulled out his phone and held it in front of you expecting you to type your number in. "o-oh sure..!" You took his phone rather abruptly cuz once again you're clumsy cuz why not~ and typed your number in. You made a quick call from his phone and saved your number in his. You handed him the phone before taking yours out and saving it as well. "great! So I'll text later yeah? I gotta run now, but I'll see you later?" He spoke, looking at you expectantly. You just nodded with a bright smile. "That's that then! See ya, mate!" He cheerfully bid you goodbye, turning away and looking at you one last time with a wink and waving his hands in a peace sign.

That was when you went into a faze. And the next thing you know, you're lying in bed, your stuff neatly organized. "So uhh... I was singing in the yard, someone came, said I sang great, the someone so happed to be my fucking crush and idol and he asked me for my number and he said he'll text me... He... He asked... He ASKED FOR MY FUCKING NUMBER OH MY FUCKING GOD IS THIS A DREAM?!?!?!" After taking your sweet sweet time processing whatever happened you started kicking your feet like a teeny tiny little girl in Love even though you're a fucking (your age) year old woman. (Y'all freaky minors I see you so you better get going)

And then all of a sudden amidst your delulu moment, you get jolted awake to reality by a text notification. When you open your screen your face lights up into a bright ass smile, heart in your eyes and just- delulu all over again.

And just like that you snatched yourself a date (not really) with your favourite local artist! How lucky aren't you? Anyways~ you looked at the clock and it was 4:16 pm already. You rushed up, swifting through your closet only to find nothing wearable. "Do I really not have anything here??? Why did I take everything there with me ugh!!!!" You whisper yelled cuz after your little yelling sesh earlier the last thing you want is for people (especially Chris) to think you're crazy. After failing to find anything wearable you quickly grabbed your things and drove off to your studio.

After a lot of deciding you finally found an outfit you wanted to wear and quickly headed into the shower. And after managing to shower, get dressed, put make up on and do any other finishing touches you were finally ready! You took one last look at yourself into the mirror and felt extremely self satisfied. The clock showed 5:35 pm and it takes about 15 minutes to get there by taxi and the last thing you want is to be late. So you hurried down and got yourself a ride and right to the cafe you went.

You've been to this cafe for a good long while now. It was your favourite spot to chill and the bells attached to the door was always a calming welcome for you. This time although, that same ring sent shivers down your spine. And you didn't know why. You were, as usual, greeted by a gentle young man who was pleased to see one of the regulars back again.

"a single seat again?" He asked as you entered. You shook your head, "not this time boy! I've got company" and soon a giggle left your lips followed by a confused, curious and pleased 'oh?' from the man. He smiled and led you to a comfortable seat. A perfect seat is what you considered it. A big glassed window which gave the perfect view of the lit up streets outside. The cafe was warm and cozy like its name. You took your coat off and draped it over the chair lean before taking a seat. After few minutes of waiting which seemed like hours your clock showed 5:56 pm. You were starting to get worried. Was he gonna ditch you? Were you gonna get stood up by a person you admire so much?

As you let yourself spiral into your overthinking, you were brought back to reality with a knock on the wooden table, "hello? Anyone there? Earth to Y/N!" You looked up, blood rising to your face making it warmer. "A-ah yes! S-sorry about that. I sorta uh... Lost myself there, heh." You mumbled, loud enough for him to hear albeit quite faint. "Right, it's all good!" The man took a seat in front of you, "lovely view." He said, looking out the window. "Ah... Lovely indeed." Your awestruck fangirl eyes stayed glued to this man's face, observing every little detail. His beautifully curly brown hair, big lips that stretched into a smile, that deep and gorgeous dimple that dug at the end of the corner of his smile. Lovely... He was more than just lovely.

"So... Which one of the view is lovely here, exactly?" You didn't realise he was looking at you. His right elbow rested on the table while his tilted head rested on his palm, his face painted with a shimmering smile.

You were dazed by the view in front of you, "You..." You muttered, your head falling off your palms, "N-no I mean both! I mean- no- the outside- or like no uh maybe both? Uh- ah! I don't know!" You hid your face within your hands and heard a soft chuckle. That chuckle tickled your ears turning them bright red.

After much awkward blabbering you guys finally got down to business. Having discussed a few of the details, you guys agreed to meet on the weekends in your studio since his new studio wasn't fully done yet. You both decided to discuss further details and make a contract on Saturday at your studio.

Time passed by in the blink of an eye. Before you know it, you guys have had chatted endless conversations in the meantime. Gotten much more closer. And before you knew it, your phone display showed 8:35 AM on a Saturday morning. Chris was supposed to arrive at 12:30 pm, grab lunch with you and then work on the song.

You looked around realising your room was a total mess. You had 4 hours to clean everything up, shower and get ready and you were quite determined.

You cleared everything up, every Speck of dust lying around was removed in what felt like an instant. You quickly took an everything shower. Washing your hair, shaving, skincare etc etc everything.

After all was done, you checked your phone again. The time showed 12:23 PM. You felt content, giving your chest a light pat of approval. You put on some casual clothes and put up your hair into a messy bun. You patted on some powder, a little blush, tad bit of eyeliner and some soft lip tint to tie it all together.

Just when you were done with everything, you heard your door bell ring. Anticipation grew with each step you took running to your front door. "coming!" You yelled.

Opening the door felt like opening it to a beam of light. You were greeted by a warm smile and a "Hey, pretty!" In the softest most endearing tone youve ever heard. It was like music to your ears. You replied with a "hey handsome~" as a giggle left both your lips.

You knew better than to delude yourself but right now... For a tiny bit... You wanted to think this was more than just some collaboration and something perhaps a little more special. Although getting to Collab with this man was a great deal of honor in itself.

You guys drove to the restaurant in his car. The way his veiny hands glided on the steering wheel made you feel things. The way he spoke, the way he sat there driving, the way he laughed, the way the wind ruffled his hair ever so softy, everything made butterflies rage inside your stomach.

You guys vibed to some music, both singing in tune as he drove. At the restaurant you both chatted while waiting for the food. Chris, curious of the food you were having, took a small bite and regretted immediately with how spicy it was. He coughed "good- lords! How do you eat that?" You chuckled. "or you're just too much of a baby to handle even this little bit of spice? You even have food on your face!" "Eh? Where?" He scanned through the corners of his lips trying to wipe the food away. Watching him struggle, you took a piece of tissue and leaned in to wipe it for him. It felt like time stopped, like some kind of a cliche rom com movie. You both stared at each other for a few moments before he cleared his throat. You sat back down clearing your throat as well.

After the lunch, you both came back to your place. For a second it was awkward but that tension was soon killed as he initiated a small talk that dragged into a conversation.

Getting home, you both talked about the collab. You both jotted down a small contract that his manager would review later to confirm it. But you guys were too excited to wait for any of that and decided to start working on the song.

You both presented ideas you guys had come up with in the meantime. While he took a look at the sheet of printed paperwork you switched on your computer. Time flowed like a river with clear path.

"Should we make some alterations in that part?" He spoke, pointing his pen towards the lit up computer screen. "Which one? This?" You moved your cursor towards the line and selected it. "No not that one, the one below. Here this-" without much thought, his hand trailed to the mouse and placed right about your hand. He clicked the line he had originally pointed to, "I think we could make it a little more feely here-" he paused and realised where his hand was. He looked at you, your face flushed a cute shade of pink. Seeing you, his face, too, flushed in a soft blush before he abruptly took his hand away. "R-right yeah we uh we could do that"

You looked away, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as you bit your lower lip feeling a slight sense of disappointment having him pulled away. His hand was big on yours, the warm weight of it felt comforting. You've had your hand held by a lot of people, family, friends, exes. But this particular moment made you feel like your hand was on fire and frankly, so was your entire body.

You felt a wet slick in your lady down there. You quickly excused yourself to the restroom. You had considered that maybe it was... Something else ... But you had thought maybe it was just your period coming a day earlier. But once you had made it into the restroom, you realised, it was, in fact, what you had anticipated and that anticipation was definitely not your period.

You went back, things seemed a tad bit awkward. You didn't like it. You didn't like it at all. You hated the tension that had been created just because of a trivial matter like mistakenly putting his hand on yours while reaching for the mouse. Although the tension was there, you guys still managed to get some work done. After a while, Chris got a call from his manager asking him to get home since it was already 9:12 pm.

Time sure flew. You wished time would stop so you could spend more time with him but you knew you couldn't. So you swallowed down your disdain and walked him to the exit bidding him goodbye. It was bitter, but it is what it is.

You went back in finding yourself in a faze again. You could barely make sense of anything that was happening. You saved the progress on your computer and went straight to bed because frankly, you didn't have any energy left for anything else.

(just imagine some spicy stuff cuz idk how to write a wet dream 💀)

The next day, you woke up to your kitty feeling extra soaked. You groaned thinking it was the after effects of the wet dream you just had. But to your utter surprise and absolute agony, it was none other than that annoying cousin you despised. That's right ladies, you got your period. Periodt.

You took a quick shower before cleaning up last night's mess. You knew your cramps were about to HIT today. And you dreaded it. You could barely move around the entire day because of the excruciating pain you were in. No wonder your sex drive was so high and you felt pain in your waist for the past week.

Time ticked to 6 PM and it was about time Chris arrived. And just on time, you heard your doorbell ring. You tried your best not to look too groggy. You opened the door to his bright smile again, all the tension out the window. You smiled back, your abdomen almost on the verge of busting.

"Hey... You alright?" He asked, his eyes glistening in concern. "Y-yeah... I just got my period today and the cramps are wild." You replied. "oh... Then... Should I leave? I mean-.. I don't wanna cause you any more pain" you couldn't believe how painfully nice he was. Gosh he was just... So considerate. But you didn't want to miss this opportunity. You didn't want to wait an entire week. "No! No it's okay! I can do it! Don't worry!" You blurted. "alright then. But let me know if you're in any pain ok?" He wanted to make you feel comfortable and just him being so considerate made you feel like you could get through a thousand cramps.

You nodded before letting him in. You guys started working on the song again. But unfortunately, as optimistic as you were before, you couldn't help but feel the pain resurface ever so often. The pain felt harder each time it returned. At some point you couldn't help but groan, clenching at your tummy.

"Are you... Are you ok? You don't look too good." He held your shoulder ever so softly. "Ye-yeah I just... Need to use the restroom real quick. I'll be back." "Sure, take your time."

Just as you were about to stand up, your legs gave out and you tripped. Chris, who was right there, happened to catch you in time. Had you fell, your head wouldve went straight to the corner of the table cracking it open. Your heart raced. But, you couldn't tell if it was out of fear or the fact that you were practically groping his chest. Or maybe it was both.

You got up in a rush, your head felt fuzzy. "ah im- im so sorry! I didn't mean to!" "No- no it's alright! You were about to fall so I just... It's okay I don't mind... I mean... Uhh I would mind if it was some random person who just got all over me without permission but uhh what I mean is it's alright I didn't think anything of it..." He looked away turning his head, his ears a bright red.

You hurried off to the restroom and locked the door. "Stupid stupid! You stupid girl! Agh why did you have to fall on him??" You whisper yelled. Your hands still felt warm from the sensation. Your nipples had perked up and you felt aroused out of your mind. But you didn't want to feel it. You didn't want to be a creep and make him uncomfortable.

Time skip ...

A month had passed now. You guys got even more closer now. In the meantime you had many more physical contacts that ignited sparks within you. The sessions didn't last in tensed awkwardness anymore and you guys were having fun.

You were checking out your calender as usual to check out if you had something important in the coming days. Your period for this month had ended two days ago, you were supposed to have a doctor's appointment on Tuesday and the rent was due on Thursday. Everything was checked out. You looked at your phone that showed 10:34 am on a Saturday.

You suddenly get a text and your face brightens up when you see the sender of it.

If this was a while ago, you would find it illegal to even think of getting coffee with THE Christopher. Asking him to bring along coffee and having him treat you to pastry as an apology just would've felt illegal and a faraway day dream. But here we are.

You flopped down on your bed, scrolling through the gallery in your phone. It had endless pictures of Chris. Even more of him than you, your family and friends combined.

You squealed with every picture as you realised again and again how attractive he was and this very man was coming over every other weekend for a collab. It was just... So unreal to you.

{Warning: here the smut starts so if you're not ok with that please skip until you see a divider. Thank you.}

As you were thinking of all this, you found yourself feeling a tad bit aroused. You put your phone down as you glided your hand through your body gradually sliding in down inside your shorts.

You rubbed your clit that had been a swollen bud and your hole had been leaking ever since, thirsting for a little action. You pulled your shirt up revealing your breasts as they bounced and you pulled your pants down. Your pants hung by your ankle as you slowly rubbed your entrance gently.

It throbbed. It wanted more. You started thrusting your finger in. First your middle, then both your middle and ring finger and soon your index as well. You gradually became a moaning mess. Occassionally calling out Christopher's name under your breath as you fondled your boobs.

Oh how you wished he were here with you. As you were in your moments of pleasure laying unbeknownst of anything, a thud jolted you awake from your fantasy.

You looked towards the door of your room realising the clear view of your kitty you had put on to anyone who stood there. Horror overcame you as you realised who was standing at the door. Chris. His bag had fallen, possibly due to shock of seeing you like that.

His face was utterly surprised. You quickly closed your widely spread apart legs scrambling to hide but it just didn't work out. "h-how are you here?!" You asked, shame and guilt overcoming you. "We-well the door was unlocked and I called out to you but you didn't hear me an-and I just-" his face brightened red. You looked down unknowingly and realised he had a painful bulge that looked like it would pop out any moment now.

"y-you... Why are you..." You pointed, he looked down and quickly hid it. "I'm oh lords I'm so sorry! I didn't-"

As if your body moved on its own, you got off the bed and walked closer to him. He stumbled as you did, "wha- what are you-"

"don't you..." You shut him off, "don't you feel repulsed? You heard everything didnt you?" "I- I mean I did hear you... Calling my name but.. uh.. no no... I ... I don't feel repulsed... Not in the slightest!" He blurted out. You weren't usually the bold type but today, for some reason, you felt unstoppable. You took the bag of coffee from his hand and set it down on the shelf near the door. "So... You're turned on by what you saw?" He looked away turning his head before softly nodding. That nod in itself made you even bolder. You slowly glided your hands to his shoulders, letting your arms rest around his neck as you leaned closer making him flinch.

"Come on, Chris... Look at me..." You whispered. "N-no I..." "But... I want you to look at me." You looked at him with sparkly eyes. He looked at you clenching his fists trying his best not to lose himself.

"Do you... Want to touch me...?"

"I shouldn't..."

"it's not about should or shouldn't... Do you want to? Or not?"

He clenched his jaw, unable to speak anything. You leaned in closer to his face. "if you don't want it... Push me away right now..."

And with that, you leaned in even more. Both of your lips not even an inch away from each other. You could feel his warm breath against your skin. You felt so... So turned on. You'd have thought he would push you away. But to your utter surprise...

He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in to a kiss. You flinched and were caught off guard but soon gave in to the passionate kiss. He was rushed, but not too much. It felt good. Your lips touched in perfect harmony. You mewled as you felt his tongue on your lips. Without any complaints you let him in.

Your tongues twirled in a beautiful rhythm. Your breaths clashed with each other. You grabbed onto him a little tighter, pulling him in towards the bed. He pushed you on the bed, kissing you again.

You broke the kiss, unbuckling his pants revealing his throbbing member. His dick was nice and long. Perfectly thick and girthy. You panted at the sight of it and your pussy throbbed. You wanted him. You want to take him.

You got up and pushed him down on the bed as you got on your knees. "Can I...?" You asked and he nodded biting his lips. You could see it in his eyes. Just how eager he was. He huffed as you blowed softly on his tip.

You rubbed it against your soft cheek making him groan. He was already overflowing with precum. You slowly glided your finger through his member. It both scared and aroused you to see his size and how veiny it was. It was throbbing and flinching every now and then.

"just... Do it alreadyy.." he begged and you couldn't wait to comply. You slowly started shoving it inside your face. Licking every bit of it. He threw his head back grasping onto your hair, pushing your head further down. You moaned again finding it incredibly hard to take it all in.

You choked as his tip hit the back of your throat and he let you go instantly. "Ah! Im sorry! Are you ok?" He asked pulling you closer to your face cupping your cheeks. "Yeah.. I'm.. I'm okay. I just don't have much experience with deep throating." You spoke still catching your breath. "it's ok if you don't want to. I don't wanna force you to do something you don't enjoy."

"no it's alright. I want to do it. So just relax." You went back to his groin. This time, taking it slow. Rubbing his member and licking the tip slowly preparing to him all in. Steadily you start putting it inside your mouth. It felt weird at first and you felt overwhelmed but you were determined. You wanted him to feel good.

It gave you immense pleasure when you heard his groans and moans. "Fuck baby you're so hot..." He moaned under his breath. That just aroused you even more. You went back up to his face, kissing him passionately. He pushed you down on the bed and took off his shirt.

Good lords that was the most sexiest and hottest thing you've ever seen. He soon made his way down between your thighs. First kissing your inner thighs along with soft bites that sent shivers down your spine. You yelped a moan when you felt his fingers circling your poor swollen bud and moaned even more when you found him licking it. You thanked your soundproof walls. You thanked yourself who worked endlessly to afford that soundproofing. It just meant you could moan as much as you wanted.

"Shit... Chris... Im... Fuck im so close...!" You mewled. He came up to your face, kissing you relentlessly again as if he was just going to devour you. "can... Can I put it in..?" He asked with these adorable puppy eyes. You felt his tip rubbing against your entrance. "yes.. god... Yes please... I need to Chris... I need you so much... Fuck just put it in already..." You moaned. You couldn't take it anymore. You needed him. You needed him so bad.

"but... There's no condom? Should I go buy some?" He said pulling away and almost getting up. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer. "Fuck condoms just do it! Im safe." (A/N: please use condoms even if you're safe. Your partner might not be safe 💀)

And without much ado, he started shoving it in. It was your first time. You didn't expect it to hurt so much. A drop of tear trickled down your face as you gasped in shock. "agh... Ah fuck... Fuck fuck fuck that hurts ngh..." You cried. It hurt. It hurt so much. You could feel your hymen tearing apart. Blood trickled down your hole. "fuck... Im sorry... Just... A little more... I promise it'll feel better..." Chris reassured you. He pulled you into a tight hug kissing your shoulders and neck. You cried in pain. It was even more painful than you had imagined.

You wrapped both your hands and legs around him. It was painful, but you wanted to keep going. After a while, it was in. His whole dick was completely inside you, wrapped by your walls. "I'm in... Im in..." He huffed. A wave of relief flooded over you. It hurt, but it was starting to feel a little better now.

He gently started moving. Each thrust started making the pain leave your body. And before you knew it, you were overcome by pleasure. Once what was a cry of pain turned to cry of pleasure.

You moaned loudly over and over again calling out his name. "Fuck angh Chris...! Aah... That... That feels so good nngh.." you moaned.

He thrusted inside you, relentlessly. "good fuck baby you feel so damn good... Oh gosh you're so pretty... You're so beautiful... Fuck I love you so much..." He moaned back. You were caught off guard. "you... You what...?" Another tear trickled down your face. Your heart raced like crazy. "I... Im sorry but... I just happened to feel it I... I don't know..." He stopped thrusting feeling hesitant. You smiled before placing a soft kiss on his lips. "Why'd you stop, silly? I love you too... I always have... It feels like a dream to be here like this with you..." You pull him closer. He sniffles, his eyes teary and he smiles before kissing you and thrusting again.

He hugged you, kissing and sucking on your nipples leaving hickeys where only he can see. You suddenly felt a knot form inside your belly. And you knew what it was. "Shit Chris... Im... Im close... Im so close..." You mewled. "I'm... Im close too... Let's... Let's cum together yeah?" He groaned. "Yeah... Yeah let's do that..." You huffed.

Before you know it, his pace fastened and so did both of your grunts and moans. The room filled with noises you made and the noises of skin slapping, kissing and sucking.

And at last, that knot loosened and you felt yourself flinching and trembling and reached your climax. He quickly pulled it out and came on your belly before falling on you. Both of your pants unsteady. He turned to lay down on the bed, your head on his arm. "Fuck... That felt so good..." He huffed. "Yeah... It did.."

.......................

{smut ends here lmao}

After a while of laying there and catching up on breathing. You both decided to take a shower together and clean up. Having done that, you both made your way to the bed and laid next to each other.

"So... You like me?" Chris asked as he caressed your head gently. In embarrassment, you hid your face in his mascular chest. "We-well... I've been a huge fan of yours for a while now and... I've always liked you but... Ever since we've met... I couldn't help but develop feelings more than that of a fan to her idol..." You replied shyly.

"that's... Quite nice to hear actually..." He smiled. You looked at him, your chin rested on his chest. "what about you?" You asked.

"hmm... I've actually seen you before. You performed in the 'Railway Bar and Restaurant' right?"

"Oh yeah... I did. Don't tell me... That was the first time you saw me?"

"I did! I was amazed by your performance. Shortly after I saw you all over my tok tik and tube-you (names are funny cuz I'm pretending to be funny hehe). I really liked the music you made and I wanted to meet your for the longest time. You caught my eye like none other. So when I met you again, I couldn't help but feel this... Attraction towards you."

Your face flushed red. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. It felt like you were dreaming. "So... What are we now...?" You asked, unsure if you should ask to begin with. "I don't know... What do you want us to be?" He asked. "I... Kinda want us to date..." You spoke hesitantly. It felt illegal to ask him that.

But surprisingly enough again, he chuckled. "Sure let's do that." You looked at him in disbelief. He was smiling. And he wasn't lying. He wasn't kidding, he wasn't playing. He really wanted it too. You couldn't help but giggle. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead and then on your lips.

Time skip again....

Another few months later, the collab was finally done and posted. It turned out to be a super hit. Both your and his fandom went crazy over it. At first you both wanted to keep your relationship private but one day a fan saw you guys on a date in a cafe. You were scared his fan would be mad and throw a tantrum but what you didn't expect was that she would start squealing and saying how she was expecting it because of the collab.

A few weeks later you guys came out public. There were two sides of the fans. One side was toxic. They bashed you both for the choice you made. But the majority were nice and supported your decisions.

It was overwhelming, to say the least, but you guys were together and that's what mattered. Both your families loved each other as well. Although your family was a bit hesitant at first, they soon caved in to both your career and your relationship.

Things were looking up and you were happier than ever. Your face was all over different social media platforms, in a good way. Your popularity increased significantly and people loved the music you made.

Now the rest of the story? That's for you to write :3

This is the end of "The lusfut Collab" and I hope you guys enjoyed it! See you again with another oneshot! Byeee!

[lilac-5ky]

Roommates from Hell, pt.8 (Toji x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 8: Nine to Five

Chapter 7 | Story Masterlist | Masterlist | Requests | AO3

A/N: Don't come at me for the ending :)

Warning: fem. masturbation, sex toys, and mentions of explicit sexual content, MDNI!

“Again, thanks for everything, Shiu. Can’t even imagine what we would’ve done without you. No money, no car—”

“Don’t worry about it.” A loud chortle rumbled against the man’s chest as heavy smoke wafted from the cigarette dangling between his teeth. “Wouldn’t pass up the chance to see this failed Casanova humiliate himself for the world.”

Your exchange was cut short as Toji forced his way into the apartment, mumbling curses under his breath. You hadn’t made sense of a word he’d said since he gave into your pleas for calling for help (No way in hell we are hijacking a car, Toji!), refusing to acknowledge his friend’s kindness in the same hopeless way he refused to acknowledge their friendship.

You wondered what it was like between them when you weren’t around to calm the spirits. Neither screamed “chatty” exactly, and pulling words out of their mouths was slightly less excruciating than plucking out a wisdom tooth with pliers. Aside from work, they seemed to have little in common. Shiu’s pride and joy was his extensive collection of tropical fish, while Toji only knew the grilled mackerel you served with his rice every morning.

“You should stop by for dinner sometime. I’m sure Toji would—”

“He wouldn’t.” A gruff voice rang from a distance that defied an ordinary human’s hearing range.

You experienced all the embarrassment that came with excusing a difficult child’s behavior. But Shiu was understanding. After all, he and Toji went back even longer than you did.

“Make sure that idiot’s ready at 8. And tell him this is borrowed, not kept.” You received the garment bag from his hands and gently folded it over your arm. “Pulled enough strings to land him that job. He screws up; he’s on his own.”

You nodded, your curiosity beating him to the elevator. “What kind of job is it?”

“Zen’in didn’t tell you?” Shiu shook his head in amusement. “‘course he didn’t.” He flicked the cigarette butt and stubbed it with his sole, therefore mocking the no smoking sign on the concrete wall behind him.

“Look, don’t want any part in your sappy love story, but cut him some slack. That prideful bastard wouldn’t bow that stubborn head of his ‘less it was chopped off its place—you know how he is—yet he practically begged me to find his ass something respectful.”

Begged…?

“Point is, you don’t get into those companies without a bunch of glorified parchment, and a hit list doesn’t count as CV. He’ll have to work his way outta the mail room. He soaks up experience, and maybe he cracks it to sales. Just make sure he actually goes. Pay’s good, perks even better. Feel free to start pumping out kids.”

“You wouldn’t know why he needed the job, right?”

A cryptic smile accompanied him into the lift. Without answering, he reached for the crumpled Lucky Strike pack in his jacket’s inner pocket and pressed the button to the garage. The only times you saw him without a cigarette was in the short interval between his switching from a burnt-out to a new one.

“Eight sharp. Not a minute later.” He warned as he leaned back against the railing, fumbling with an unresponsive lighter. “Fucking ‘ell.”

You held the bag to your chest, practiced a small bow, and sincerely thanked him for all those years he took good care of Toji.

“Dinner offer’s still on! I can do Korean—how’s dakgalbi with lots of cheese sound?”

“Can’t believe how hard that bastard lucked out.”

The doors began to close before you could make out what he said, the final rings of smoke dispersing with his departure.

A trail of misplaced dirty laundry welcomed you into the apartment; slippers flipped and sweatpants scattered, with black boxers strewn outside the bathroom door like a doormat. You scrutinized the dried precum stain on the latter with near scientific interest, not being in any real hurry to stow them away until the water flow that streamed from the shower head dramatically decreased.

Shit, shit, fuck!

Sprinting across the hall, you dunked the clothes into the basket in time for Toji’s grand entrance with nothing but a towel his thumb and forefinger kept clipped low around his hip. Steam rolled in spirals from each contoured muscle that adorned his scarred skin, a light red coloring him from head to toe.

“That jackass left?”

You tried to block out the sensual slink of his hips as he strode to your shared wardrobe, focusing instead on the countless smudges that dressed your mirror. Still in view, he fished out a clean pair of boxers—one that he had no qualms changing into, the curve of his ass distinct as the fuzzy towel pooled around his feet.

“He—um.” Droplets of water rained from long obsidian strands while he shook off the excess moisture, the reflection of his jade eyes narrowing at the lack of follow-up. “What did you ask again?”

The sweet and spicy notes of a deodorant that could only be new took you by surprise as Toji towered over you with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “I asked, when did ya turn into such a perv?”

You deserved that.

“Like what you see?” His tone was more inquisitive than condescending, like your answer actually mattered to him.

Even after an entire night of touching each other, you doubted you could ever get used to being with someone whose body fit both the requirements of a marbled statue and an action movie star. You felt stupidly giddy, longing to squeeze your head between his pecs and lick him up like an overly affectionate pup who knew neither shame nor boundaries.

Admitting to it was a different thing.

“You should let me cut your hair.” You begrudgingly looked up. Not that his face didn’t bring out the same primal instincts. “People will think you descended from the mountains.”

“Didn’t ask about people. Only care about you.”

Fuck it.

“You turn me on.”

“Yeah?” His voice turned into a low purr, hooded eyes locked with yours up until your lips connected.

The pleasant warmth of his fingertips as they tipped your chin clashed with the cold, damp hair that tickled your cheeks. It went both ways. He showed you when he pushed your hands from the hard ridges of his stomach to the harder erection his underwear packed, firmly cupping your smaller palms against it.

“Wanna be inside you so badly.” Toji murmured, nipping at your bottom lip while you rubbed at his bulge, long strokes earning you little sighs of satisfaction. “Feel you wrap around me. The things I want to do to you—fuck.”

Wetness leaked from his slit, ruining yet another pair of underwear. He was so achingly sensitive, his balls twitching for the sweet release that would either quench or worsen his thirst.

Eight sharp. Not a minute later.

“You are gonna hate me.” Your palms traveled up his chest, mostly failing to put distance between your mouth and his, as he snaked his arms around your waist and pulled your bodies together.

“Could never hate you.”

“Never?”

His tongue broke free from the kiss. He didn’t like the sound of that. “What did ya do?”

“Nothing!” You reassured him with a nervous smile, pecking his lips. “It’s just—it’s 7:30, you know?”

“Good. And I thought the telemarketing watch I ordered was lost in the mail.”

“Shut up!” You chuckled. “Shiu said I should have you ready by 8.”

“Don’t give a damn what he said.” Toji went back to littering your skin with kisses, starting from your cheek and slowly expanding to your neck. He tugged your shirt off your shoulder with his teeth, sturdy hips bucking against your flimsy shorts. “I can do with twenty minutes. No foreplay.”

“Toji—”

“Fifteen minutes.” His palm squeezed around your breast, wet tongue flicking right behind your earlobe. “Just bend over f’me and I’ll take care of the rest. Fuck you full with my cum.”

“Oh my god, Toji.” Your breath stuttered in your throat, your panties clinging to your slit as if you’d been standing under rain.

“Yeah? You’d like that?” He mouthed at your neck, sucking at least three more marks you had no way of concealing unless you scarfed up. “Ready to see what ten years of wanting to pound that pussy feels like?”

He practically begged me to find his ass something respectful.

He screws up; he’s on his own.

“Toji…”

His affections ran out at the same time his mood spoiled, forehead resigning against your shoulder. He knew what his name in that tone meant, and he hated it—more than you hated yourself for denying him.

“Y’are fucking killing me,” was the last thing he said before hopping into your bed, springs creaking beneath his weight. “Tell him I ain’t goin’.”

Of course he hadn’t bothered drying off, and of course your sheets soaked up the water from his body like a sponge. He buried his head in your pillow and stretched his limbs across the mattress. No sound. No movement. Like a corpse washed to the shore. He did say you killed him.

Such a baby.

You padded toward the bed and took a seat beside him, running your fingers through his choppy hair. He didn’t react. Not at first. You assumed this was him being pouty, but then you recalled all he had to deal with in the last 48 hours and felt incredibly sorry for him. Heading to work without a wink of sleep was the final nail in the coffin.

“What are you doing?” Green eyes blinked behind a veil of black as you brought the towel to his nape and gently wrung the lower tufts.

“You’ll get a crick in the neck if you nap with water in your hair.”

“Not trynna convince me to go?”

“Why would I? You said you’re not going and that’s it.”

Toji sat up against the headboard, the look on his face one of disbelief.

“I’m happy supporting you.” The bed dipped as you resumed your handiwork, brushing a strand away from his creased forehead. “It’s like having my very own kept man. Makes me feel rich.” You smiled.

He didn’t return it. But he did sigh. “We need money. Y’always whine about that.”

“You won’t hear me whine again. Besides, my schedule is too light. I can always ask that old man for a few extra shifts.” That was a lie. You bordered on exceeding the legal limit of working hours per week.

“And you’re fine with that.” He stated rather than asked, and when you didn’t reply, he simply rolled to the other side of the bed. “Fucking liar.”

“What happened to you not hating me?”

“I don’t. My balls do. They wanna smack your pussy.”

“You’re so damn vulgar!”

You still giggled as you nestled in the little pillow space he’d left, arm draped over his waist and fingers finding purchase somewhere between his abs. You kissed down his shoulders, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply into the scent laced through the pores of his skin. He’d gone a bit overboard with the quantity, but that wasn’t unheard of from someone who only used fragrance-free toiletries.

Still, it suited him.

“Said the tease.” He contemplated peeling your hand off him but decided against it when he felt you moving lower. Way lower than he thought you would without his guidance.

“Who said I’m teasing?” Your fingers dipped into the waistband of his underwear, feeling out the smoothness of skin and the coarseness of hair above the sole unexplored part of his body. “I want you, Toji. Not what you bring or don’t bring to the table. Just you. God, you’d probably laugh your ass off if you knew how much I actually want you.”

Tears prickled your eyes, swelling as emotion in your heart. Being this sincere scared you, especially with how rapidly your relationship was escalating. Ten years was a long time, and two days felt awfully short to recuperate all that was lost—to shake the image of his footprints slowly fading into snow eight years ago.

A hand closed around yours, thick fingers delicately squeezing between your knuckles, wary of the fresh nicks they donned. “I wouldn’t.”

“How can you be so sure?” Your voice a frail whisper made of glass. “I mean—”

“Because I want you more, dummy.”

“Didn’t realize this was a competition.”

“It is now.” Toji pulled your hand away from his body and pinned it to the mattress, his other arm crossing over your shoulders as he gently rolled you below him. “And I won.”

He gazed down at your face, all flustered with glassy eyes that fluctuated between overwhelming lust and unspoken worry. You think too much. You worry too much. You feel too much. He wanted to accuse you of every single one of those crimes but couldn’t find the words to do so, because he liked that about you.

He liked how your hands trembled with need when they touched him, how your voice broke like it couldn’t bear the weight of its words, how vulnerable and small you looked in his arms—but most of all, he liked what you breathed into him, what your puny fingers sculpted his soul into. Because he only ever liked himself when he was with you, and that was exactly why he wanted to offer you more than a tattered old shirt with rips around the seams.

“How much time?”

“Huh?” You gaped.

His scar twisted into a smirk as he lowered his face to yours—a crooked grin once you closed your eyes and puckered your lips in expectancy of his. So much more. He pressed down against your mouth, tugging at your bottom lip until his thumb slipped in and you gave his nail a firm, albeit painless, bite.

“Better not do that when my dick goes in there.” He tsked.

Immediately, you coughed out his finger along with an aggravated “Toji!”

“There she is,” the man in question chuckled. “Nearly had me fooled.”

You scoffed, part of you grateful that the tension between you was resolved, but not the part that showed. “If you must know, I spoke from my heart’s depths.” Your fist moved to your beating chest.

“Mhm, bet ya did.” Toji helped himself to a kiss, chaste enough for his tongue to remain in his mouth. “Sly wench.”

“Wench?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Prefer bitch?” He retorted.

“Wench is fine.”

The way his shoulder blades rolled while he was hunched above you had you sidetracking from the clock that ticked away your time. You figured he’d be an excellent salesman—supposing he made it to that point—because you were sold on staying there with him, spinning your entrapment by his bulky physique into the perfect excuse to play hooky. Sakurai would understand. Hopefully.

“Five. Lemme hold you for five minutes, and then y’are free to frill me up.”

You were the one who was now “killed,” and yet you accepted your death with grace as your positions were switched. Toji collapsed beside you, squeezing your clothed breasts against his naked chest (remorse for not ridding you of your shirt first) while you huddled together, legs tangled, and mouths inched too close not to meld into one.

For someone who claimed to do only what he wanted to, he succumbed to your will an awful lot.

“What’d you want a sly wench for?” You muttered, playing with the hair that hung low over his neck. “Regular wenches out of stock or something?”

“That eager to find out?” He drawled, both his voice and eyelids weighed down by exhaust. “I’ll show ya when I get back from work; everything a sly wench’s good for.”

“Sounds like quite the ordeal.”

“You’re a big girl. ‘m sure you can take it, and if not—well,” he ran his tongue along your lips. “No reason to talk about what ifs. You’ll be good for me, mm?”

“Depends on whether you actually put on the suit Shiu brought.”

“Women and your suits.”

“You said—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know what I said.” Toji scoffed, one of his hands sneaking under your shirt. “You’ll make it up to me.” He decided.

“I told you, you can just not go.” You objected.

“Oh, really? And ya would’ve let me stay home without breaking my balls?” He let a beat pass and added, “Thought so.”

“What would thine royal ass favor?” You humored him with a fake, posh accent.

“I’m easy to please.” You held back a snort. “You’re gonna lemme doll you up with however many or few clothes I want. Fair?”

“Is that all? Doesn’t sound too bad—”

“And then,” he continued, his smirk as sharp as the teeth behind it, “you’ll lemme strip ya. Nice and simple, huh?”

“Your five minutes are running out!”

While Toji was off brawling with a pair of cufflinks, you relocated to the kitchen and brewed two cups of coffee, figuring he could do with a sip before heading out.

A pink sticky note awaited you on the counter, your sister’s messy handwriting begging you to call her as soon as your windpipe reopened—whatever that was supposed to mean. You crumpled it and tossed it in the trash, resuming your coffee-making duties. She wanted details you had no intention of discussing, especially when you didn’t even know what to call him anymore. You felt like no word was descriptive enough of your current status.

“Whatcha thinking about?” A hand snatched the spare cup from your grasp, scarred lips rounding around the searing rim.

You turned around to a Toji you’d never seen before. Surely, his thin eyebrows were drawn together in the exact same scowl he wore when you first showed him the black slim-fit suit of Shiu’s choice. His hair was still damp, sticking to his forehead in wet tufts. The rest of his body was also physically there, boxed inside the narrow lapels and shoulder bite of his jacket—but that was where the similarities ended.

The difference between the Toji you left in your bedroom a mere ten minutes ago and the sharply dressed man in front of you was that you didn’t feel the need to pay a ticket simply for the honor of staring at the former.

“Just admiring how handsome you look.” You straightened out the creases on his lapels.

“Yeah right.” Toji rolled his eyes, continuing to swig coffee. “Just saying that to get into my pants.”

“Please, if I wanted to get into your pants, all I’d have to do is ask.” You wiped his chin before the liquid got to drip down his collar, sparing him an earful.

“At this point, you wouldn’t need to ask.” He glanced down at his suffocating thighs, the seams around his crotch threatening to burst at any given time. “This is ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not—”

“Looks like I’m in a damn sausage casing. ‘s too fucking small.”

“You’re just too big.” You smiled sympathetically, not realizing your blunder until that sly smirk you knew and hated (loved) made its reappearance. Oh no.

“Mm, am I?” Toji cooed, his smug tone making your fingers grab at the counter behind your back. “Even for you?”

You bit your lips into a straight line, your eyes following the hand that slotted a blue striped tie in your fist and ordered you to get it over with. He took a step back, allowing you to remove his jacket and loop the fabric once around his collar. That was pretty much the full extent of your tie-tying knowledge.

“Gonna keep staring at it?” He cracked under the pressure of your intense squinting.

“I… don’t know how to do it.” You admitted.

“Didn’t your dad wear one to work?”

“Didn’t yours?” An immediate glare. “Never mind. Forgot the Zen’ins are stuck in Edo period.”

He had nothing to say. The times when he sauntered around his family’s compound in that gloomy garb weren’t as far behind for him to forget they ever happened.

You carefully folded the tie in half and handed it to him. “Just ask Shiu to show you. But here, lemme—”

You fixed whatever minor detail could be fixed, combing his hair with your fingers, plucking out a couple of loose threads, and securing his cufflinks. He didn’t need the jacket. As long as no one gawked at his crotch, he passed as your average overworked thirty-year-old who’s yet to give up on their early retirement dream.

It was 7:58 when you and Toji argued over the few footwear choices in his possession. He settled for the combat boots he sported mostly during the winter, but scoffed once you reminded him you’d have to go shopping in the following days.

It was 7:59 when he lingered about the door frame like a harbinger of bad news who didn’t know how to break them down, eventually lifting a hand and giving your head a rough pat that suited a Pomeranian more than an actual human.

“Don’t miss me too much,” which in his language meant I’ll miss you.

“Remember Home Alone?” He nodded. Then he realized.

“Brat.” And with that, he hurried down the hallway, cussing at himself when his cellphone began ringing before he’d even caught the lift.

Your smile remained on your face as you closed the door and spotted the tie he’d accidentally left beside his mug.

I’ll miss you more.

You underestimated how much you would actually miss him.

Your first day apart was spent with you plugging every drain hole in the house. Toji might’ve told you to forget the incident ever happened, but even a regular centipede was capable of reducing you to tears. Curse or not, you weren’t prepared to confront another of those critters, and if peace of mind came at the cheap price of plastic, then so be it.

You didn’t have the chance to miss him yet.

At work, you kept staring at his vacant booth, wondering whether his workplace had a kitchen or a cafeteria—whether he had enough cash for a meal—and every time you did, you scolded yourself. He was a grown man. He could take care of himself without you babying him.

But you still hoped he’d call.

“You won’t believe what that new girl Noda did today.”

You made it home a little after sundown, Chinese takeout under one armpit and handbag under the other. “You’re gonna love this!” Chuckling, you kicked the door shut and stalked toward the kitchen, dropping both bags on the table with a labored huff. “Three words: vampire repellent fries. How someone mistakes garlic powder for salt is beyond me.”

No response. Weird.

You laid out the containers before casting a glance at the ongoing football match on your TV. A reel played between the first and second halves—mass hysteria from the crows that celebrated over their team’s scoring as opposed to the apathetic mop of tousled black hair that was spilled over your couch, expressing neither cheer nor jeer. Not even his usual grunt of acknowledgment.

“Did you not hear me? I said—”

Your eyes finally caught up with your mouth as you processed Toji’s sleeping form, his dress shirt unbuttoned and dangling from his slacks, with a belt unbuckled but not quite removed.

“To…ji?”

Again, nothing.

So much for a night of passion.

Rather than eating alone in the kitchen, you brought dinner to the couch and sat down beside him, secretly wishing the rich scent of Sichuan pork revived him. You switched to an overplayed romcom that’d otherwise have him barfing, only to find his content expression far more enticing than whatever vow the main couple exchanged.

When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.

You watched over him as he stirred enough for his head to climb up your lap, a large palm engulfing your hip while he breathed in the bare skin of your thighs. More than once, you thought he was awake and tried to ask him about his day, but a snore was all you got in return, the quiet symphony eventually lulling you to sleep.

The rest of your life started when you met him.

Toji was already gone by the time you woke up, miraculously tucked under the covers of your bed, without an actual clue as to how you ended up there. The food you’d stashed in the fridge was gone with him, and so were your hopes of catching up over breakfast.

Your day was a reprise of the previous one. You drank coffee—alone. You did laundry—alone. You trapped a spider and carried it outside the window—alone. And then you met with your landlady—again, alone.

The house felt empty without his brooding figure leaning over the fridge to hurry you up; without his raspy voice calling you from across the house to fetch him the remote that lay on the coffee table; without his low whistles whenever you bent over to catch something from the bottom drawer. Things that once annoyed you, you’d started to miss.

On impulse, you drew your phone and began typing a message you deleted. He was finally acting responsible, and there you were, all butthurt because you didn’t get to talk to him for one day. Big deal.

You packed your bag and braced yourself for a torturous nine-hour shift at the diner, hanging onto the frail hope that once you closed shop, you’d be free to run to him.

Every kiss, every touch, every hug—every single moment of affection became a gale you rode on, reaching the apartment with your heart in your mouth. Surely enough, his shoes were parked by the front step. A good sign. The dubious smell of charred meat bubbling in a cauldron on the stove—not so much.

Hesitant to analyze the green broth’s origin, you searched for the dish’s chef in the other rooms, finding his remains splayed on your bed. Eyes shut, rumbling snore, and a tight grip around your pillow. The sight tugged at your heartstrings, convincing you that it was best to let him rest it out. You took off your clothes and squeezed in beside him, sleep not coming to you as easily as it did the night before.

You missed your conversations. The snarky remarks he’d have about his colleagues. The glint in his eyes that signaled his attentiveness, regardless of his snorting at everything he thought dumb. His bottled laughter. The suggestion in his tone. You’d never told him, but his voice was your favorite thing about him, and now you missed that too.

“Hope your dreams are worth it,” you mumbled against his shoulder, enveloping yourself in the warmth of his body even when you knew you’d wake up to a fistful of cold sheets.

That night, you missed him the most when he was right there with you.

“Not so fast, mister.”

If the sound of your voice wasn’t enough to stop Toji in his tracks, the Glock 22 aimed at his skull certainly was. He stepped away from the door, hands up in mock surrender, as a smirk carried him to where you stood in the middle of the living room, looking not-so intimidating in the pistachio-colored sleepshirt you’d hastily draped over your body.

“Where did ya find this?” He asked, his voice still groggy from sleep.

“I know you keep a gun taped under the nightstand.” You smiled, planting your fingers away from the trigger. “Busted.”

“Then y’know it ain’t loaded, right?”

“Really?” You thought you could tell by shaking it near your ear, only for Toji to leap forward and clasp your palms between his, directing the muzzle to the ceiling in the blink of an eye. “Thought you said it wasn’t loaded!”

“Hmm, let’s see.” The magazine popped out, empty except for a bullet he stowed in his pocket. “Won’t you look at that!” To your amazement (and horror), he reassembled the gun with a single move and returned it to you, defending himself with a “Shouldn’t trust a word outta your opponent’s mouth.”

“Art of war?” You pinched the grip and hurled it onto the couch. Sometimes you really questioned your decisions.

“More like, quit meddling with stuff you can’t handle. Although, if you threw some handcuffs into the mix,” he walked closer, pulling you onto him by the waist, “I could get behind this.” He kissed your lips and gave your ass a squeeze. “And that. Definitely that.”

Your fingers met behind his neck, heart fluttering in your chest. He smelled so nice. Just the right amount of intoxicating. “You’re all talk.”

“Missed me?” You nodded, unwilling to phrase those words out loud. “Then what’d ya want that gun for? Thought we got a lot friendlier these days.”

“Are we still friends?”

“Why?” His thumb brushed against your cheek. “Any plans to unfriend me?”

“Friends don’t do the things we do.”

“Really good friends do.” Toji insisted, his tongue slipping between your lips as if it never left—as if the past two days didn’t happen.

“Want more?” He tugged at your lip with his teeth. You weren’t sure whether he referred to kissing or something else, but whatever he offered, you wanted more of. “Me too.”

His cheek pressed against yours, burning with the same kind of fever you felt pooling in your stomach. You stayed like that for a good while, basking in the intimacy of an inconvenient hug until you felt bold enough to interrupt it. “If you ever avoid your girlfriend again, she’ll kill you.”

He huffed in your ear, then drew away after piecing a loose strand behind it. “My girlfriend can’t even use a gun.”

“Say it again.”

A grin.

“What part?” He asked coyly.

“You know what part!”

“Can’t even use a gun?” He sneered, holding your wrists as they tried to bat his chest. Your reddened complexion only added to his amusement. “Like being told you’re my girl?”

You didn’t answer him—a bad decision, really. It gave him the freedom to run his mouth on about how there were more things he could call you and a couple of other things you could moan back, sparing the details for the sake of the rising boner in his pants. While the premise excited you, the past two failures were hard to forget.

“And for the record, I wasn’t avoiding you.” Toji peered into your mind. A hand rubbed at the back of his neck, his dress shirt lifting from his slacks. “That place’s hell.”

“That bad? Is it the people, the job itself, or…?”

“Fucking everything.”

You could practically hear a can of worms cracking open; see the litany of complaints unfolding over your feet.

“Getting paid to spit on papers like a damn dog. My ass going sore from being glued to a chair all day long. Food tasting like coal briquettes. Dumb kids trynna strike a conversation every chance they get.”

“You poor thing!” You gasped dramatically. “Don’t tell me they also smile at you!”

His glare betrayed him. “Place’s like a fucking kindergarten.”

“Better zip your dirty mouth in front of the kids, then.”

He frowned, and you laughed, genuinely happy that his coworkers seemed to welcome him—a sight you decided you wanted to see with your own two eyes sooner rather than later.

“I won’t be late.” Toji promised once you’d escorted him to the front door.

Your arms folded in front of your chest. Eyebrows arched. “Right.”

“I mean it.”

“Sure you do.”

A sigh. Poking fun at him was always so much fun.

“What about you?” He abided by his little ritual of leaning against the frame, his stance mirroring yours. Unhurriedly since he’d gotten an early headstart on his day. “‘Today’s your day off.”

That’s a first, you thought. He never asked about your plans.

“Oh, you know me. Pilates at 9; golf course at 12. Might go yachting around 5 if you don’t come back early.” You quipped.

He rolled his eyes. “Stop fucking around.”

You poked his tongue at him, not wanting to admit that today would be ten times lonelier without a distraction, similarly to how you didn’t to spoil the surprise in the making.

Except your expression revealed something that your mouth didn’t.

Turning away from you, Toji began coughing like a cat with hair clogged in its throat, eventually spitting out a round, hairy lump of purple. Disgust was written in every line of your face, fading into recognition once the ball expanded into Wormie. The creature tried to wrap itself around its master, who seemed to have a better idea by offering it to you.

“Here. So you don’t die of boredom.” He explained.

You were skeptical at first, but Wormie robbed you of all options as he skipped to your arms and snuggled his head in the crook of your neck.

You never thought the day would come when you’d be hugging a worm, but the feeling wasn’t half as vile as one might expect. He had the weight of a feather and the scent of whatever bowl of cereal Toji had downed that morning. If you closed your eyes, you could think of him as a giant (exotic) pet.

“Hey there, little guy. Missed me?” You rubbed his back. Or what you thought was his back, anyway.

“Pretty sure he’s just trynna eat you up.”

“Shut up.” You glanced at Wormie’s mouth, just in case. “You’re simply jealous of what we have.”

“Sure.”

Satisfied with the image he left behind, Toji finally opened the door and walked out of the apartment.

“Don’t let that idiot get into trouble.”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“And I wasn’t talking to you.” He smirked. “Later.”

A moment passed before his comment registered, long enough for the elevator gates to separate his snickering from your dissonant complaints.

“You’re such a lousy boyfriend!”

In the hours that followed, two things became apparent. One, you’d probably make for a decent parent, because when you instructed Wormie to sit quiet on the counter while you cooked a meal for Toji, he did as told without protest, and two, he was the greatest sous chef you could’ve ever asked for.

“Wormie! Pitch me the ladle,” you’d say, and a second later the item would fall in your hands.

Not just that. You could cut away vegetables without walking to the trash whenever the counter became clogged with scraps. Wormie ate up everything you fed him, whether that was onion peels, lettuce butts, or a spoonful of the stewed beef that had him singing toot after toot like a trombone.

Toji was right. It wasn’t as lonely with Wormie around. But he was dead wrong about his pet only obeying him. The second you wiggled those leeks, the little glut switched loyalties.

You wondered whether you could train him to give paw.

Stacking a bunch of Toji’s favorite side dishes inside a lunch box, you phoned the one person who could give you an address. Shiu picked up right away, his tone lax as he accused you guys of having his number on speed dial. You profusely apologized and carried his words to a piece of paper, renewing his dinner invitation with little to no zeal. You were grateful toward Shiu, but all you looked forward to was a weekend alone with Toji.

You hung up the phone and turned to Wormie, gesturing for him to gobble up the tupperware.

“Let’s go see your dad, mm?”

Toji’s workplace turned out to be an impressive thirty-story building on the outskirts of Minato. It belonged to one of the largest telecommunication companies in the country, with an enormous silver plate that bared its three-lettered logotype. Shiu did claim he pulled some strings, but a lobby big enough to double as a landing zone was not what you expected.

The guards at the entrance welcomed you with a curt bow, seemingly undisturbed by the worm that hitched a ride on your shoulders. You remembered what Toji said. The vast majority were incapable of sensing cursed energy around them, and those who did would rather question their sanity than accept the notion that the folktales their grandmothers fed them were real.

You gave Toji’s name to one of the girls at the front desk, who in turn asked her colleagues, but none of them seemed to know him. You weren’t surprised. Thousands of people paraded through these doors on a daily basis, their only accomplishment being the white collars around their necks. You either made it big or died as a nameless corporate slave. Neither celebrated nor remembered.

The receptionist did, however, point you to your destination and provide you with a visitor card. You followed her directions to the elevator, barely finding a spot for yourself in the crammed space that, little by little, cleared up. Your reflection stared back at you—inaccurate, as Worm was nowhere to be found, despite shrieking your ear off a minute ago when you accidentally prodded his tail.

This doesn’t make any sense.

You navigated the maze of cubicle offices before reaching the mail room at the end of the fourth floor. Most employees ignored your presence, while some straight-up shot daggers at you like you were an intruder. You failed to notice the sickeningly amiable smiles Toji described until you saw him surrounded by a bunch of high-heeled man-eaters who vied for his attention.

He was making copies for each of those women, taking away their excuse to loiter around the copy machine and stomping on their confidence with one-worded replies. The less dedicated ones sorted themselves out, while the true contenders stayed back to help him with his workload.

You wished you could get closer and enjoy the show, but you didn’t want to interrupt. Instead, you knelt by an empty desk and placed Wormie on the ground, ushering him in Toji’s direction.

“Make sure he gets it, and I’ll fight for your rights!” You spoke in a hushed voice. “Good boy, Wormie. Now go!”

Certain of your partner’s success, you dashed to the elevator, leaving both him and the company grounds behind for good.

It never occurred to you how much time you spent with Toji since he moved in. And it never occurred to you how long it’d been since you’d last touched yourself either—not until you were lying naked in bed, legs arched and hands stuffed between your thighs, guiding the rabbit vibrator in and out of your sopping cunt while you panted out his name in broken moans.

The hows and whys were unclear. All you remembered was stripping so you could change into a comfier fit, and the next thing you knew, your toy was calling out to you from its hiding spot, fully charged despite its extended period of inertia. You didn’t dare use it when Toji was home—and he was always home. His keen senses trained on you, slashing through every illusion of privacy your bedroom’s paper-thin walls provided.

But he wasn’t there now. And he wouldn’t be there for hours to come. And he looked so damn sexy in his suit, that all you could think about was ripping it off.

“F-fuck, Toji.” You turned the ears speed up a notch.

Each little buzz circulated through your body as tingles of pleasure that enhanced the fantasies your mind crafted. You pictured him leaning over you, wearing nothing but the tie he’d finally mastered. The cocky smile that’d stretch wide on his lips as he’d part your knees with big, veiny arms and stick a thick finger in your pulsing hole, asking you whether that was all for him even when he knew it could only be his—you were only his. He’d ask you to say it out loud; have you repeat it countless times while drilling his cock into your pussy, discovering depths that neither your fingers nor the silicone were capable of.

He’d suggested he was big. God, you’d gotten so close to seeing for yourself. You wanted to touch it, lick it, kiss, bounce on it so many times that the room began to spin around you. Even if it was big, you’d make it fit. Even if it was too big, you’d let him split you open.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you thrust the bunny upward, trapping your clit between the little ears that flicked rabidly in sync.

You needed him to fill you up. You needed to somehow justify all those years of starvation for him, his body, and his cum—you needed to feel it running down your trembling thighs, hot and sticky, as you milked every drop he had to offer.

The tension in your guts finally snapped as you focused on the three little words you longed to hear the most. You didn’t care whether he whispered, moaned, or grunted them out. You wanted to hear them in his voice at least once in your life. You needed him to be yours just as you were his—to love you like you loved him too.

The sweat on your forehead barely had the chance to cool down, when your eyes opened to a sight far more palpable than your crumbling high.

“Is this what ya do when I’m not around?”

A/N: next chapter will have smut, i'm not that ruthless.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#351

“Shithead, what the fuck are you doing?  Who the fuck do you think you are?  You are a faggot, a cum guzzling, ass eating, piss drinking faggot.  When I took you in, I told you I expect obedience from you.  If you wanted my cock to fuck you several times a day, you needed to be obedient.  Obedient!  You said you’d live to follow my orders.  So explain yourself?  What the fuck was that upstairs?...

“…Aw don’t even.  Look.  Tonight was going to be the night I introduce you to my three best buds.  Of course I gave them full access to you.  You don’t have a say.  So when Brutus wants to shove his fat finger into you, you let him.  That cunt between your legs is not your cunt, but mine.  And if he wants to shove his dirty finger in you, then I want it in there.  He works hard logging all day.  He’s entitled to a cunt to use as he sees fit, and he knows my cunts are expected to satisfy him.  He doesn’t deserve a faggot who has no rights to balk.  Now why the fuck did you pull away?...

“Are you fucking kidding me?  I don’t give a shit you find him ugly and fat.  He and I go way back.  Yeah, he ain’t the prettiest, and being 6’6”, he’s quite large.  He works long and hard logging, and he eats quite well.  You would be surprised at his muscles under that chunk.  Along with his nasty personality, he can’t seem to get or keep a woman.  That’s why he uses faggots.  He loves treating them like shit, humiliating them, degrading them, raping them, beating them, all the good stuff.  So when a faggot balks, well,… you are going to find out that that’s not good for you.

“So you are going to go back up there and you will apologize to the man.  There is nothing else to do.  You got that?...  Good.

“Where the fuck are you going?  I didn’t dismiss you.  You see the belt doubled over in my hand?  You see that I am wearing sweatpants, so you know… this is coming!  Fucker, don’t move.  You need to be welted up.  Obedience is not obedience if infractions aren’t punished.  Now stand there and don’t fucking move.  You move more than a step or put up any resistance, I will have my bud Jim upstairs castrate you.  He castrates all his fagmeat.  He indicated to me he’s not interested in you as a fuck slave, but damn he would love to take your balls from you.

“Now that’s only three swats.  Cry if you want.…  In fact, scream out.  Let them hear that you are atoning for your disobedience….  Now turn around.  I want to welt up your chest and the front of your legs….  Oh fuck!  Between your pathetic crying out to the snap sound of leather striking fag flesh, I am getting fucking hard.

“There.  Oh look at that, the welts are starting to form.  Fuck yeah.  If I didn’t want Brutus to first fuck you tonight, I would be shoving my cock in my cunt and unloading.

“Here take my belt.  Oh look, there’s some blood on it.  Turn around I want to see where you are bleeding.  Fuck, your back looks amazing.  Those welts look like they belong there.  That one is bleeding a little.  Good.  Let the blood run down your skin. 

“Now before we go back upstairs, let me tell you what is going to happen.  I want you to go up to Brutus, and in the most submissive pose you can apologize to him.  Offer him my belt to finish your punishment for pulling away from his finger.  Beg him to ignore your pleas.  Tell him that my cunt between your legs is cleaned out and is his ready to be raped. 

“You are to be obedient to him tonight and tomorrow.  He’s way more demanding than I am.  He’s going to beat the shit out of you.  Rape you too.  Even though he’s enormous and fat, you would think his dick would be tiny.  No, his cock is enormous, big and fat just like him.  Every single faggot I bring to him seems to ignore his ugly mug or his chunkiness once they see his gigantic cock, yet there is always regret once the raping begins.

“You get the extra benefit of having pissed him off first.  I’m going to enjoy seeing you suffer like that.  Now get upstairs.  I can’t wait to see you completely welted up with a shredded cunt.”

[kingthunder]

Analysis of Jaskier's songs from s1—

—and how they reflect the narrative events and Jaskier's character arc through the show. I'm trying to keep this as canon as possible and not look at it through shipping goggles, but there is textual stuff about Jaskier's relationship with and love for Geralt that's impossible to ignore.

Toss a Coin to Your Witcher: Jaskier’s first big break, the famous and famously annoying Toss a Coin. He wrote this when he was around eighteen and it definitely feels immature. He’s cracking bad jokes like “elf on a shelf” (god I hate that one, it grates me every time) and substituting “bleat” for “beat.” He’s taking enormous creative liberties with facts. And he’s being a little thoughtless; in his enthusiasm to hero-wash Geralt, he’s throwing elves under the bus, calling them devils and pests while he’s talking about Geralt as a friend to “humanity.” (more about this when we get into some of his later songs and his time as the Sandpiper)

This is an upbeat, catchy (and kind of shallow) song that I mentally classify as one of his “narrative” songs. It tells a story. It feels optimistic, much like Jaskier himself at this point in his life. After all, this is the kid who saw a big scary witcher brooding in a corner and decided that nothing could go wrong by following him around. He’s got a head full of heroics and heartbreak and nothing is going to dissuade him, not even being nearly killed. This song is a perfect time capsule of the beginning of Jaskier’s career and also the beginning of his long-running relationship with Geralt.

The Fishmonger’s Daughter: Jaskier plays this at Calanthe’s court when she orders him to play “a jig.” It seems like a pretty typical bawdy tavern song, the kind where you try to drum up audience participation. Most of the court seems to know it and sing along with it. No idea if Jaskier wrote this himself. He probably didn’t. It seems like one of those songs that everyone just knows.

Her Sweet Kiss: This song makes me feel deranged. This is definitely a Jaskier original. We see him writing and noodling with it at the beginning of The Mountain (tm) and asking other people if his lyrics are scanning well. He’s been traveling with Geralt on and off for about twenty years now, so he’s forty years old or close to it. He’s seen some shit, and part of the shit he’s seen has been Geralt and Yennefer’s relationship. He is not a fan. He is so deeply not a fan that he’s writing a whole song about it. But also? He’s putting himself in the song too, and he’s putting his heart on his sleeve, the same way that he tries to do when he talks to Geralt about going to the coast. The lyrics of this song are about three people—a man (Geralt), a woman (Yennefer), and the singer (Jaskier). It’s about how the woman is bad for the man, and how much the singer loves the man.

Whether you see Jaskier’s feelings for Geralt as romantic or not, these are the facts:

He doesn’t like Yennefer or think that she’s good for Geralt, and says so, repeatedly, both in casual conversation and in his music. In the song, he writes, “She’s always bad news, it’s always lose-lose” and that, “She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss.” 

In the song, Jaskier calls Geralt “my love” and says, “I’m weak, my love, and I am wanting.”

He asks Geralt to go to the coast with him, so they can “work out what pleases” them. He wants them to stay together and not go their separate ways like they often do.

Immediately after this plea, Geralt goes straight to Yennefer and (just in case anyone was doubting that Her Sweet Kiss was about the three of them) Geralt and Yennefer fuck while an instrumental version of Her Sweet Kiss plays over the sex. I still can’t believe the showrunners did that. That was A Damn Choice. (deranged, I am deranged about everything about this)

The kicker is that the song wasn’t even finished when Geralt flipped his lid and shouted Jaskier off The Mountain (tm) and out of his life. Which means that Jaskier, alone and heartbroken (his own words from s2), finished this song and published it afterwards, even knowing that the entire situation had gone tits up and that he might not even see Geralt or Yennefer again. Maybe it gave him some catharsis to sing it, who knows.

This isn’t a shallow catchy tune like Toss a Coin or even Fishmonger’s Daughter. It’s deeply personal and a tonal shift from his previous music.

(and it makes me deranged)

Stay tuned for my season 2 thoughts!

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hey man, its me again~

(If i may overwhelm you or anything just say so, i sometimes dont understand the limits of being too annoying)

So. Hehm. I got covid. And. I was sick for a few weeks but then yesterday it became very, very bad(i presume because of stress and overexaustion, as well as due to not taking care of myself properly..) to the point of not being able to hold a bottle. I felt kinda horrible, but until night that was only the start. I could only lay in bed, overheated, and ended up falling asleep midday and having hallucinations/nightmares at night. I woke up in tears after a supposedly silly goofy dream(caine×kinger (i just knew they were a couple) arguing, well, more like kinger being very, very mad for some reason and caine looking at him with his pathetic sad eyes while trying to argue back/explain himself. Also there was zooble looking all smug at The Camera like in Office in a way only an asshole weedsmoker would do, all relaxed. Oh also it was a Zombie Apocalypse au and kinger just had a big booty for no reason) and hyperventilating, it was horrifying for some reason(maybe because i love the guys... royalteeth<3). I was Very Delirious.(i am a bit better after finally being taken seriously and given medication after

Anyway i said all this only for you to know about the dream, i liked it very much in the end, yummy angst.

So i was wondering, maaay i please req a worried itward trying to force sick!reader to go to bed but they bluntly refuse because "I have WORK to do and people to TAKE CARE of! I don't care, am just.. a little under the weather, yes, but its nothing a warm tea later wont fix. So i need to- no, i am perfecty capeable-" <- said before falling over a coffe table half dressed, almost landing on Mr. Midnights fluffy butt. When they finally give in they're kinda clingy and a bit whiny("..do you still love me?"; *stumbles out of the room to get to itward who decided to get them some tea, scaring him shitless in the process* "can we hold hands? Please")

(The dream and other info has nothing to really do with the request and has no purpose but to tell you abt the silly scenario, you can just disregard it. Anyway i'm going to sleep good noight!!♡♡♡)

Itward x sick!stubborn!Reader!

IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LOKG TO GET TO THIS SOBS

That said I hope youre feeling better man :( sickness sucks!! I hate sickness!! Beats up the sickness!!!

Also I know I already said this when you checked your request status, but you're not overwhelming me or annoying me!! Get down with the silliness!!

Also look at this goofball, how he almost falls

Loser

(Gently holds)

I think that he would treat most sicknesses on the same level of seriousness; like sure he wouldn't panic if you had a simple fever or cold.. but he's going to be firm on you not overworking yourself

In fact its likely that he will bar you from chores and work for at least an entire day after all your symptoms die down

Very quickly notices that something is wrong with you. I mean itward looks over a bunch of kids and kids get sick all the time, so I think he can see the signs even before you're fully ill

Asks you if anything is wrong and offers to do some of your chores around the ship (and that's assuming he even assigned you any) as well as offer to run the errands you needed to do that day

Gentle but firm when talking to you and trying to keep you in bed

Like gently pushing you back into bed and covering you up in a blanket or two

"Yes yes, I know dear that you've got work to do... but please, I need you to rest... can you do that for me?" And other similar pleas

Hes making you soup when you wobble in and ask if hes mad at you; because his tone sounded a little stressed when he last talked to you

He cant even answer before you face plant onto the floor of the ship...

Immediately rushes to your side; which likely only takes about two steps for him thanks to his long legs.. scoops you up and just

In this gentle quiet voice reassures you that hes not angry. A little stressed out for you, but not angry

Key words, "for you", not "by you"

I would say for comic value he would tie you to bed, but I feel even itward wouldnt go down to those extremes (and this man can get a little silly. I mean he literally locked Fran in a room so he could make her a surprise birthday party. Itward can get a little intense, I think)

No instead I think he would just stick by your side to ensure you're actually resting

One of admin favorite tropes; character b is sick/very tired and in bed, character a who just put them to bed goes to leave only for b to grab their sleeve/hand/arm/whatever to stop them and just. "Plesse stay"

That happens with you two, I think

And most likely, if itward doesn't have anything super time sensitive or important to do, he will stay with you

Besides, hes a skeleton from another reality. What are the chances that a human sickness can spread to him?

Well that's assuming it's a sickness from the third reality and/or one that cant jump species

But shhh

Itward pretty much becomes a mother hen and tries to prevent you from doing anything that may make your symptoms worse.. as well as caring for you via making you food, keeping you hydrated, and even carryout you around if your legs are too weak to support you

[sleepyycapybara]

First post and its a story about fraleo (frank x leo) this story they are both in collage and in the same dorm, umm enjoy

Warning: I only recommend reading if you are okay with some...ummm...scenes iykyk...if you don't know then i don't recommend -enjoy pookies

(Summary)

I suck at summaries so its a besties (that don't know they both love each other) to loverrrrs ❤ (ladies and gentlemen will you plea- Ahem where my swifties at?)

(Frank's pov)

I unlock the door to be surprised with Leo sitting on the couch

"Hey what are you doing here?"

"FRANK!!! Omg we are roomies!!"

I walk in setting my things on the kitchen counter while Leo runs up behind me

"Hey big guy what do you want for dinner, also I thought your classes end at 3 its 7?" (p.m)

"Oh yeah I have work after my class I work at the walmart just around the mall"

"Your so lucky, I have classes that start at 6 in the morning and work that ends at 8 p.m I got today off because I have to move my stuff in"

Leo jumps at me for a hug but his small arms only go around half my body

"Leo im so glad that you got to be my room mate, man! Wait a minute, dude I thought this was a one person dorm....with one bedroom."

"Oops I might have moved all my stuff into the bedroom...ummm ill sleep on the couch until we figure things out."

"No you can take the bed man its fine, I insist."

"You sure big guy? We can always just share the bed.." Leo says teasing

I feel my cheeks get hot and red "Umm sure..I guess." My voice cracking

Leo turns away his face red not expecting him to agree he tries to change the subject by saying, "Im going to make dinner, A or B you pick ."

"B." He says still blushing

"Okay Im going to make it a surprise."

I walk out the kitchen and start studying for a test in the living room

(Leo's pov)

"Im going to the store brb"

I go out the door when I hear frank saying "bye" and "drive safe"

*15 minutes later

I get home and I start cooking dinner with the ingredients I bought bc I lost my magic belt (pls Idk what to call it). I call for frank "Hey Frank!!! Dinners ready!!"

I slide a plate with 2 tacos on it to frank while I start eating my tacos "These are not the best tacos I've made but there pretty good."

"Umm Leo.."

"Yeah?"

"This has cheese on it...I can't eat it.." (for the ppl that don't know frank is lactose intolerant)

"Oh dw its not real cheese."

"Aww your so sweet Leo, you even remembered."

Leo blushes "yeah its no problem.."

(Frank's pov)

*I take a bite out of the taco and freeze on the spot

"Are you okay Frank?" His voice filled with concern

"Yeah, but this is the best F-ing taco I've ever had." (For all the ppl that don't like swearing im blurring it out)

"Oh im glad you like it I personally think I could have done better."

"BETTER? Oh I would like to see THAT! There's no way you can beat this"

Leo yawns "Oh please I could have done that with my eyes closed."

I yawn as well "Im going to get ready for bed soon im really tired from today."

"Same I had to move all my stuff up stairs and down stairs all day"

*we both get ready for bed after cleaning the dishes

*in the bathroom brushing teeth

(Leo's pov)

*I pop my tooth brush in my mouth while Frank walks in to also brush his teeth

Frank stops dead in his tracks watching me brush my teeth

"LEO!! that umm my tooth brush..."

I spit the tooth paste out and rip the brush out my mouth

"Oops sorry bro forgor mine was the pink one yours was purple."

Frank handpalms "That's not the point.."

"Its okay I have a brand new one in my bag its still in the box."

Leo goes to his bag in their room

(Leos thoughts )

OMG OMG OMG that was so embarrassing I just had a indirect kiss with my crus- umm bestie, who am I kidding I'm in love with him....

(Frank's thoughts)

OMG OMG OMG my crush just used my toothbrush!

(Leo's pov)

"Sorry it took so long Frank."

I hand him a new toothbrush my skin heating up

"Its okay just remember my toothbrush is orange..."

5 min later they are watching a scary movie

*jump scare*

"AHH WHAT THE F-"

Leo jumps and lands on Frank's lap, Leo hugs him while sitting on his lap

"OMG that scared the living out of me thanks for catching me big guy."

Leo still doesn't move but instead moves closer

"Umm no problem Leo.."

Frank starts to get flustered when Leo doesn't move but he doesn't bring it up

(Frank's pov)

Frank starts to hug Leo around his small waist "Just to keep you from jumping and hurting yourself." Frank knows he's being selfish and the real reason is because he just wants to be close to and hold Leo

End of movie

(Leo's pov)

"Lets go to bed now im tired."

"Yeah lets go."

Leo gets picked up without hesitation from frank and is bent over his shoulder

"What are you doing Frank! Put me down!!"

"Nuh uh."

Frank drops him on the bed

"Leo I have to tell you something important..."

"Me too...I've been holing it off forever.."

(Both at the same time) "I think that I like you!!!"

(Scene coming up if you wanna skip)

Our eyes link for a few seconds as we stair deep inside them

Leo get scooped up into Frank's lap as he wraps his big arms around his small waist

Leo kisses him only for a second and then Frank kisses back but longer

"I have been waiting to say that for as long as we have been friends. Leo will you be my boyfriend...?"

"Yes a thousand times yes."

I press a kiss to Frank's cheek and slowly move down to his neck kissing softly

Frank's grip around my waist get tighter as if he never wants to let go

I lay down and snuggle close to him as I kiss him again softly we both start to doze off....

OMG the end pls let me know if I should do a pt2!!

If u saw a mistake no u didnt..👀

I promise I will get better its only my first time!! I thought hey there is no content of my favorite ship so I will write it!! I hope you enjoyed ❤

[nomorethanhirtyonepotatoes]

Lyric Snippets Under the Cut

Second Child, Restless Child // The Oh Hellos

See, I was born a restless child And I could hear the world outside calling me And heaven knows how hard I tried But that devil whispered lies I believed ... You've got to go on, further than you've ever gone You've got to run far from all you've ever known

2. Icarus // Bastille

"Look who's digging their own grave" That is what they all say "You'll drink yourself to death" Look who makes their own bed Lies right down within it And what will you have left?

3. Ghost Towns // Radical Face

I seen more places than I can name And over time they all start to look the same But it ain't that truth we chase No, it's the promise of a better place But all this time, I been chasin' down a lie And I know it for what it is But it beats the alternatives So I'll take the lie

4. Jackrabbit // San Fermin

Everything you see is double Any way you go you lose When you're lost in the woods and Alone in the world too Another day older And another day we go, oh no Alone again with all these people

5. I Earn My Life // Lemon Demon

I earn my life, I earn my life I learned it from my father and I tell it to my wife Jesus Christ, don't tell me not to hurry I wouldn't be so worried if I wasn't always right Cause I earn my life, I earn my life I learned it from my father and my father never lied Jesus Christ, we better learn how to forage Utilities and mortgage are all that will survive

6. Conquest of Spaces // Woodkid

I'm ready to start the conquest of spaces Expanding between you and me Come with the night the science of fighting The forces of gravity

7. I Have Seen the Future // The Bravery

Raise a glass in salutation We drink to our annihilation Was and will just make me ill It is a brave new world And we are faster than pain We are dogs without a name We are marching soldiers off to claim The brave, brave, brave new world

8. Bartholomew // The Silent Comedy

Oh my God, please help me Waist deep in the river, can you hear my plea? He says "Son, you come like a beggar in the streets" "You might make it, boy, but by the skin of your teeth" "Might make it, boy, but by the skin of your teeth"

9. Dimitri Mendelev // Astronautalis

I dreamed up the maps Give me charcoal and the paper now We invent paths they cannot see And they're too scared t' walk Between my hands rests fifty-two plain old playing cards And I trapped God somewhere between The trump and the kind of hearts

10. I Followed Fires // Matthew and the Atlas

Now the low lakes have frozen Away from home I'll go When the first snow has fallen Away I'll go Give me to the ground I followed fires toward the sound Cold upon the mountain To which I'm bound, to which I'm bound

11. Exile Vilify // The National

You've got sucker's luck Have you given up? Does it feel like a trial? Does it trouble your mind the way you trouble mine? Does it feel like a trial? Did you fall for the same empty answers again?

12. Somebody to Die For // Hurts

I could drag you from the ocean I could pull you from the fire When you're standing in the shadows I could open up the sky I could give you my devotion Until the end of time And you will never be forgotten

13. My Silver Lining // First Aid Kit

I don't know if I'm scared of dying But I'm scared of living too fast, too slow Regret, remorse, hold on, oh no I've got to go There’s no starting over No new beginnings time races on And you've just gotta keep on keeping on

14. Seven Nights, Seven Days // The Fratellis

Oh my darlin' I'll go down and commune And tell one hundred souls There's a fire on the moon I'll be over the line, I'll be under the spell I'll be the comeback kid On his way home from hell

15. Dirty // Grandson

Do you have enough love in your heart To go and get your hands dirty? It isn't that much, but it's a good start So go and get your hands dirty Do you love your neighbor? Is it in your nature? Do you love a sunset? Aren't you fed up yet?

16. Last Man Standing // People in Planes

I am the last man stand survivor I'll be the last man home Yeah I'm the last man stand survivor I'll be the last man home

17. Lost, Scared and Tired // Jared & The Mill

But they say, "Boy, you're looking skinny Should you really go this hard? You're doing it for nothin' These risky milles you're truckin' Are crazy as they are far" ... But I'm strung out and foregone, I feel all alone And the winding of the river makes me wanna Find my way back home, my way back home

18. Black Eyes // Radical Face

And I said: "This life ain’t no love song" While I marched on blindly And my knuckles dragged across the walls And the birds up there mock me and the scenery’s turned wicked And your name is trapped beneath my tongue All of the roads are one now, each choice is the same All the roads, they are one now, each choice is the same I won’t show my hands now, I know this ain’t a game All the roads, they are one now, each choice is…

19. The Balancer's Eye // Lord Huron

Heaven never ever heard a word I said I’ve cried enough to raise the dead “Everything comes and goes,” they say Here tomorrow, gone today Heaven won’t let me in, I don’t know why No one ever loved half as much as I Everyone’s a sinner in the balancer’s eye I’ve prayed enough, I rolled the dice Anyone’s luck can turn, I’ve heard Not soon enough, I gave my word

20. That's Okay // The Hush Sound

You want to go back to where you felt safe To hear your brother's laughter, see your mother's face Your childhood home is just powder-white bones And you'll never find your way back And when you're gone, will they say your name? And when you're gone, will they love you the same? If not, that's okay

21. Comes and Goes in Waves // Greg Laswell

This is for the ones who stand For the ones who try again For the ones who need a hand For the ones that think they can

22. In the Heat of the Moment // Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds

They tell me you've touched the face of God At the sound of the rope cracking on your neck They tell me you'd never give it up Like the song that was soul singing in your head So, honey, please, don't let go Or you'll fall into the dead of night So, honey, please, don't let go You better learn to fly 'Cause they're gonna point you up at the sky

[farfromhome999]

Black Motherhood in A Thousand and One (2023) & The Women of Brewster Place (1989)

[SPOILERS!!! TW: SA, Familial Abandonment]

Inez (mother) & Terry (son)

Fresh out of jail, Inez befriends a quiet foster kid, Terry, on the block she does hair at. When he ends up in the hospital, Inez falsely claims to be his mother before showering him with care and toys. Eventually, Inez abducts the kid to raise him on the run. For years, they lived together on the fringes of society, skirting around the government. As Terry approaches adulthood, he discovers Inez isn't his biological mother, leaving him with mixed emotions. Yet, he can’t help but call her mother because she was one to him. When Inez is questioned about her motivations, she says she took him because she, herself was in foster care, and though she didn’t know how to be a mother, she wanted to have him grow up to be somebody. Seeing as Terry got into a good school, got in little trouble, has various options to choose from, and more, she felt as though she won against the system that brought her to her miserable standing in life. In the end, it’s hard for Terry and probably the audience to really be mad at Inez. Terry probably would have been worse off if she never came for him in the hospital. It’s easy to see the love that Terry holds for his “mother” at the end of the movie when he cries while he helps her escape from the government who have found out about the abduction and are looking to jail her again.

It’s an unconventional story about motherhood, but it’s one about figuring out how to mother without ever having one. It’s also a critique on the “angry black hood woman” caricature because while Inez does fall into the Sapphire stereotype, she’s given humanity. There were several instances in raising Terry where she resorted to harsh words and physical punishment to teach him lessons, often flip-flopping between good and bad moods depending on what life is currently throwing at her. Over time, even when she does “calm down,” she’s still seen by the men around her as being too miserable looking and in dire need of a lesson on being quieter. Yet, Inez’ anger always stems from something— or someone— making her life harder. Her anger and frustration are understandable.

Mattie (mother) & Basil (son)

Mattie wasn’t planning to have a baby. Curiosity and repressed desire led to that not quite consensual encounter. Her parents weren’t planning on it either, being Christian and devout. When Mattie refused to reveal the baby’s dad to her father, he beat her to the ground until his wife fired a shotgun near his head for laying a hand on his baby. Mattie left home with a shamed heart and a little yellow suitcase. She stayed at a boarding house where she worked at a hair salon down the street until a little after her baby was born. Mattie experienced intense separation anxiety with her baby, Basil, not quite trusting anyone to look after him and always trying to make him happy. When a rat bites him, Mattie leaves the boarding home with a frantic heart, a little yellow suitcase, and a baby on her hip. She’s turned away from several doors for either being a mother— “We don’t take children”— or being black— “There is no vacancy, I just forgot to take the sign down.” It wasn’t until she encountered a little old lady, Ms. Eva, where she was invited to stay in her place for free, Basil getting a playmate in Lucile, Ms. Eva’s granddaughter, as well. Mattie doesn’t always do what’s best for Basil, always avoiding upsetting him too much. As such, she doesn’t give him his own bed as he grows older saying he’s too scared of the dark. When Ms. Eva dies and Lucile leaves, Mattie takes on the house and continues to raise Basil there until he’s a teen. When Basil kills a man he felt no remorse over killing— “he’s better off [in social standing] than me”— and breaking an officer’s arm as he resisted arrest, Mattie doesn’t lecture him on his lack of care. She just hears his plea that he wants out of jail because he hated the food, the beds weren’t good, and several other factors. He only complains about his life in jail to Mattie and doesn’t stay to talk to her at all when she visits, simply telling her he wants out before leaving. Mattie puts their house on the line to bail him out, but he still needs to go to the preceding. Basil, after tasting freedom again, doesn’t want to go back and feels he’s not going to have a chance at keeping his freedom, so he bounces without a goodbye leaving Mattie. With a broken heart and her little yellow suitcase, Mattie moves once more to Brewster Place. She can’t speak Basil’s name or talk about what happened.

Mattie’s tale is of a mother who sacrificed much for her child, only to be scorned in the end with a lack of understanding for her sacrifice. In trying to make the Basil happy all the time, he never understood even a modicum of hardship and avoided pain, fear, and other negative emotions like the plague. He learned he could get anything from his mother be it a few dollars to go to a movie and the bail out of jail with enough niggling. If Inez was the mother focused on what the kid needs, Mattie was the one focused on what the kid wants. In both instances, it backfires.

Cora Lee (mother) & Her Seven Kids

Cora Lee is the caricature of a welfare queen, humanized. As a little girl, she always loved her baby dolls and would get a new one each Christmas. The old ones never felt as nice as the new ones. When she grew older, she took this logic into consideration over her own kids. She loves when they’re babies, small, helpless, not talking back. But not so much when they’re older and refuse to listen much. She calls them dumbasses and knuckle heads. She uses passive aggression to try to guilt them into doing what she wants and direct commands in an attempt to strike fear in them. They often go awry. Also, after so many kids, she doesn’t deem every scrape, bump, and bruise they get to be much of an event, particularly when she tells them not to do the thing that earned them that mark of dishonor. Cora Lee feels like her kids are hopeless because of their bad grades and worse behavior. It’s not until Kiswana invites her and her kids to the local Shakespeare play that Cora Lee gets any hope for their situation. The kids are well behaved once Kiswana comes and all the people at Brewster place stare in astonishment at them all dressed up nice and behaving well as they walk over. The play itself was a success too. Midsummer Night’s Dream was adapted to include dancing, music, lights, costumes, and effects that left the audience jiving in their seats and engrossed. By the end, one of Cora Lee’s kids asked if Shakespeare was black to which she responds that he isn’t, not yet. It’s implied that this child may go on to be a playwright or into theatre from this encounter. Cora Lee is practically beaming after being given this chance to see her kids at all ages in a new light.

Kiswana (daughter) & Her Mother

This relationship between mother and daughter is one of miscommunication. Kiswana, or Melanie, feels as though her mother is ashamed of being black and tries to distance herself from that heritage as much as possible. From her mother’s words, it’s possible to think so. She feels that Brewster place isn’t safe— which it isn’t, there are gangs hanging around— and that her daughter should at least have a phone so that her mother and father have a line to reach her. Kiswana, however, hates that the two stopped loving each other in her eyes and more than that, wants to work towards getting a phone herself rather than ask them for money she feels isn’t hers. Kiswana’s mother is angered when she refuses and is accused of being ashamed of her heritage. She says that Melanie thinks that being black is in her curly hair, her skin tone, her name that she chose for herself, and all these other things. But, her mother chose her name because it was the name of a woman in her family that stood up against several white men with a gun to save her husband who had no business doing what he did, but she loved him anyways and stayed strong. She also told her of her other ancestors who didn’t know the meaning of quit and strived for better and better right up until herself. Their cushy house in Linden Hills was a hard fought achievement. Their straight hair, relaxed by perms and the way they dressed and the color of their skin didn’t matter because to her mother, black is black. Being a mother simply meant doing what was best for her child, making sure that her kids were never ashamed of however they looked or whoever they were.

This story demonstrates a lack of communication between mother and daughter as much of this comes out of frustration with the other and finally sitting down to talk about things. I feel like clearer communication between the two on their feelings over their heritage would have sparked more understanding on both of their sides. I don’t think it would have solved all their problems— the mother was really upset over Melanie dropping out of college— but it would have been a start in the right direction.

Lucile (mother) & Serena (daughter)

Lucile spends a great deal of time with Serena while her husband, Eugene, is away doing goddess knows what. When he comes back, Lucile is overjoyed and tries to do anything so that he doesn’t leave again. When she gets pregnant again, she gets and abortion after he gets upset. She looses his job, she offers to pick up another which he also hates— probably because he’s supposed to be the provider but he keeps running into trouble in the pursuit of that. When he expresses his displeasure over Serena getting more attention than him— when she is a baby that needs to be frequently watched and cared for, which he doesn’t seem to understand— Lucile tries to pay more attention to him. Eventually, she tries to make him happy and prevent his leaving so much, the dominos fall on her baby girl. When Eugene comes home to see Mattie and Lucile playing with Serena, he shoos Mattie off and says that Serena could stay right where she is when Mattie offers to take her. Lucile, wanting to please him, agrees and Mattie leaves. Eugene tells Lucile he’s found a job but refuses to give her many details on it. They wind up going to the other room, leaving Serena alone and unwatched. As Eugene refuses to say where he’s going, that he doesn’t want to take the baby and Lucile with him, and that their love isn’t enough to make him stay… Serena, who’d picked up a pair of shiny scissors spotted a cockroach in the wall outlet. Eugene didn’t show up to her funeral. Lucile became catatonic, a deep depression that Mattie needed to coax her out of. Lucile left soon after, taking her clothes and bedspread with her without a goodbye.

This story serves as a warning. Getting hung up on a man who was so upset with their situation, believing Lucile to only be good for “babies and bills” as he states, led to the loss of one of the most precious things to her— Serena’s life. In trying to make her partner stay, to the protest of Mattie who saw much of this situation going down hill and tried to offer advice, Lucile forgot to put her child first. Eugene is also at fault here, of course. A father who refuses to act like one— job or not— and a partner that refuses to stay because of his own discomfort, only ever running away when things don’t go well is essentially useless. Both are supposed to stay for their love and their child through thick and thin. Not doing so has negative consequences on everyone involved and then to not have remorse over it??? Good riddance. While both are at fault, the lesson here is to put ones child first. In my opinion, as well, if the man don’t know how to stay, he doesn’t need to be there in the first place. That’s a lot of going in an out of a child’s life and that instability causes more issues than it solves.

Lorraine (daughter) & Her Mother

Lorraine was kicked out of her house because of her sexuality when she was a teen. Since then, she worked her way through college, found purpose in being a teacher, and met her current partner, Theresa (woman in blue in above picture) where the two had a lovely place in Linden Hills. Or several years, Lorraine would send Christmas cards to her parents, still hoping that they loved her. They’d be returned to her until she stopped putting a return address on them. She assumes they may have threw the cards in the fire. Her parents’ abandonment, especially her mother’s really struck when she tried calling home one day and her mother hung up the phone upon learning it was her daughter on the other end. Her fear of judgment and what being different meant leads to several issues in accepting her own sexuality and the struggles that LGBTQ+ people face in the world. She denies her difference at every turn and gets paranoid and fearful at any rumors that circulate around about her and Theresa, wherever they moved. Lorraine feels wholly uncared for. Later, she’s sexually assaulted by one of the gang members looking to make her right by showing her what a real man is like and make her never look at another woman again. Lorraine is left broken and hysterical in the back alley. When people attempt to help her, she swats them all away with a wood plank she pick up. One unfortunate person was beaten possibly to death because he approached her too quick— it was the man who had a lesbian daughter and comforted Lorraine when she was being discriminated against.

I don’t think I need to expand on this one— in fact it’s hard for me to, I’m lucky I wasn’t thrown out or something. My sexuality just isn’t accepted as a fact.

[stegrossaurus]

Halloween Zodiac

Halloween Zodiac

by Boris

“It’s the Howling Moon that did it!” the old homeless man hollers, jabbing his knife at one of the symbols. “I thought it was gonna blast laser beams or turn me into a wolf or something! I didn’t read the other side. You always got to read the other side. You know that, right, kid?”

I nod quickly as he whirls his manic eyes away from the large stone altar and onto me. The rag he tied around my mouth isn’t very tight, but I’m too afraid to answer or call for help. I could easily get my hands out of the loose ropes, but running or fighting is also out of the question. Even if I wasn’t terrified, this man is a foot taller than me and clearly has the strength and speed of the insane. I don’t know my way through the forest and he clearly does; he found this large altar easily. He’d catch me if I ran and there’s no one here to hear me scream.

The old man grabs my shirt and pulls me closer to the altar so I can see it clearer. It’s a large table of black stone with 13 dinner plate-sized discs of gold set in a circle around a jagged hole in the center. It’s pitch black in that hole and I can’t see any hint of the forest floor. It might just be the reflection of the fire-colored autumn leaves (brighter than the leaves anywhere else in the forest, it seems), but the 13 discs look like they’re glowing orange. He jabs his knife at the disc featuring a screeching bat. Then the hanged skeleton. A blazing jack-o-lantern. A leering cat. 

“I survived everything until the Howling Moon!” His knife once again finds the disc of a large full moon hanging over howling beasts and cowering humans. “I didn't understand! It doesn’t kill you, it just drives you crazy!” He stops yelling long enough to take several deep, shuddering breaths and starts again, quieter and slower. “It was another homeless man for me. We heard the rumor, we wanted the power, we fought…” His rambling trails off into despondent mumbles as his grip loosens. I still don’t run away. “I killed him to wake it up ‘cause I thought I could beat it. And now here I am holding a teenager hostage and I barely remember why.”

He starts to cry and, with a sudden burst of energy, he yanks me forward and forces me to lean down of the altar. “It shows up every October.” He holds his knife to my throat as I start struggling. “It demands a sacrifice and it offers power.” He ignores my garbled pleas as his blade pierces my shoulder. “If it doesn’t get one, it stays asleep and nothing happens.” Something rumbles hungrily in the pit a foot from my head as my blood drips on the stone. “I’d love that, but the Halloween Zodiac wants to come out. It wants to play. So it will do anything to get the sacrifice.” He lets me go, jumps up onto the altar, and walks forward in a daze. He walks shakily and almost giddily, like a kid playing Don’t Step On The Crack. “Learn the rules. Beat it before October ends. Don’t look at the Moon. Best advice I can give you, kid. Good luck.”

He falls into the pit so quickly, it looks like he was pulled. I don’t hear anything hitting the bottom. This time, the rumbling coming from the pit sounds…satisfied.

I pull myself up, undo to the rag and ropes, and inspect the cut. It’s not very deep, but that knife looked filthy, so I should get it cleaned. 

I can’t believe that happened. I’m still not sure what happened. That man just grabbed me as I was walking home from school and pulled me into the forest. He just muttered ‘Halloween Zodiac’ as he dragged me farther and farther from the road.

I keep the altar, specifically the pit in the middle, in my sights as I back away. He said it only appears in October, which would mean it appeared today. But he couldn’t have been serious, right? The man was clearly insane. But I heard that rumbling when he cut me and when he jumped in. And now, as my eyes drift away from the hole and to the little pool of blood, I see movement. The blood is moving, forming itself into letters.

Boris Bane. My name, drawn in blood like a signature. Or a target.

“Oh, God no,” I moan in dread. “What is this? What’s happening?”

As if answering my question, the blood changes again. Choose. 

“Choose what?” I ask a split second before a glow catches my eye.

 One of the discs is starting to shine, a little brighter every second. But it’s not so bright that I can’t make out the image: a fat, goat-legged creature smiling as people are impaled on its horns and pitchfork. The inscription on the bottom reads: Hungry Devil. 

“No no no. Not that!” I don’t know what’s happening, but I don’t want any kind of Devil anywhere near it.

I scramble around looking for a way to change the selection and notice a small white skull-shaped rock set into a groove outside running outside the discs. It’s set next to the glowing Hungry Devil disc, so I pull it away. The glow immediately transfers to the next disc and the next as I move the skull. Not that any of the discs seem much better. The Witch’s Mirror, the Haunted House, the Forbidden Road, the Living Mask, and more less than pleasant names adorn the discs on the altar. I’m not sure what I’m looking for and it doesn’t matter. I lose my grip on the skull in my haste and it slips up the groove, bringing the brightening glow to another disc. Before I can get a hold of it, the glowing stops and I can tell the choice has been made.

“Black Cat?” I read the inscription on the chosen disc. A cat perched arch-backed on a fence glares menacingly at me from the metal scene. I try to remember the old man’s words or think of something that will put this nonsense into place, but I can’t. “I can’t do this. I don’t know what this is. I don’t want to know what this is. I just need to go home.”

 I pick a direction and run, hoping I’ll hit the road eventually. Then I can go home and just forget about all of this. 

The forest has an unnatural type of silence as I run. The kind where the softer sounds of the leaves falling on the forest floor are louder than the snapping branches and crunching twigs. Falling leaves, the slowest breeze, and a clacking, scraping sound, like claws on wood, all of these quiet sounds smother my panting and crashing through the woods.

Something black jolts through the orange and yellow forest and I jump as far away as my legs will take me. My foot snags on a root and I tumble towards a tree. My shout of pain as my shoulder cut echoes through the forest, but it still doesn’t drown out the scratching. Or the soft laughter.

It’s dark by the time I find the road and the backpack I’d dropped (with my wallet, cellphone, and homework inside) is gone. I barely care about that since I’m just happy to be out of the forest and away from the altar. When the moon starts to become visible in the sky, I remember the old man’s warning and I keep my head down as I walk. And then I hear it again, a long, deliberate scratch. I veer slightly away from the sound and hit a mailbox that I hadn’t seen with my head facing the sidewalk. I don’t hit it hard, but it’s enough that my foot hits the pavement oddly and my ankle surges with pain. Now I have to hobble home with a bloody shoulder and a sprained ankle.

Just as I put the key in the lock of my front door, a yowling screech like a car crash comes from somewhere in the bushes. I lurch forward on my sprained ankle and tumble into the door. It comes off its hinges, the key breaks in the lock, and my forehead meets the banister. 

Mom is less than thrilled when the world stops spinning. I prop the hat rack against the door so that it stays in the frame, but we might need to buy a new one, which Mom makes clear is coming out of my allowance.

No one asks about my head or my shoulder or my missing backpack as I trudge up the stairs. No one suggests that I reheat dinner, not that I’m willing to risk going into the kitchen with all the terrible things that can happen with all those knives and appliances. I go slowly, waiting for the sound of scratching or hissing. Then the banister of the stairs or ceiling will start to crack and I’ll wake up in the hospital. If at all. Mercifully, I make it to my room without incident.

My basset hound, Holly, is waiting for me under my bed. She perks up a bit when she sees me, but doesn’t get up. She just waits for me to sit down next to her so she can lick my hand. Mom and Dad suggested a more energetic dog breed when I asked for a pet, but my little lazy floppy girl is so much less stress. 

I rest my throbbing ankle, head, and shoulder as I rub Holly’s head and alternate between trying to forget the day and trying to piece it together. I’m not an idiot; I know what’s going on. I’ve had nothing but bad luck since what happened in the woods and it can’t be a coincidence. 

The Halloween Zodiac is real. And it’s coming for me. But I don’t know how to stop it. What did the old man say?

“Don’t look at the moon?” Well, that’s no help. The Moon isn’t what’s attacking me, the Black Cat is. That whacko said so many things, but how many of them were useful? Eventually, I land on, “Read the other side? Maybe there are instructions on the other side of the altar? Oh God, I’m going to have to go back to the altar, aren’t I?” Holly, of course, doesn’t answer. She just looks up at me and lolls her tongue out. “I don’t want to go back there. I don’t want any of this. But I need to know what’s going on. You believe in me, right, Holly?”

I cup her head and let her lick my face, but immediately, I hear the awful scratching. Holly tenses and whimpers as I look around for the source of the sound. 

“Where are you?” I whisper.

In the space of a second, my lamp’s lightbulb goes out with a pop, Holly’s bark makes me twist in a way that bursts my scab with a fresh surge of pain, and a hiss draws my attention to the doorway. There are two pinpricks of green light hovering a foot off the floor in the slab of darkness where the exit should be.

“Holly should not believe in you, Boris Bane,” a soft, mocking voice says. “Because you are going to fail and die. Simple as that. And if your dog does believe in you, then she must not have a good head on her shoulders.”

Something rumbles and creaks in the walls, pipes or the structure settling, most likely. But it’s enough to startle me into backing against my bed. A bolt or screw pops audibly and I feel the frame give. With far better reflexes than I ever thought possible, I twist around and shove my arms under the bed. Just in time to stop the frame from crashing down and decapitating my dog.

Holly races out from under the bed just before its weight becomes too much and it pins my forearms to the carpet, but she goes no further. The Black Cat is still here. I painfully turn as much as I can and see it still blocking the doorway. Its body is now visible, an unnervingly normal feline body silhouetted against a halo of purple energy radiating around it. It looks like it’s trying to spread towards me, but something barely keeps it curling inward.

A low, bone-rattling growl shakes the room…and then stops. Everything stops. The Black Cat, with all of its darkness and terrible sounds, vanishes.

When my parents and sister come upstairs to check on Holly’s barking, I just tell them about the lightbulb and the bed. Luckily, my arms aren’t broken when they help me pry the bed frame off and Holly is unharmed. I know this should be a victory, but the Black Cat was so angry and not knowing why it didn’t kill us doesn’t make me feel any safer.

That settles it. I need to go back.

I wake with a headache, swollen foot, and pus-oozing shoulder cut. I’d barely slept huddled in the corner of my room with Holly waiting for that thing to come back. I’m late for school, but I’m not really planning on going anyway. My sister’s already headed to school and my parents are already at work, so Holly and I have the house to ourselves. 

I look up the Halloween Zodiac and, to no real surprise, I find nothing useful. Then I put some antibiotic cream on my shoulder, already knowing that it probably won’t work. But I can’t stall forever. I hobble around the house collecting a compass, flashlight, hunting knife, my sister’s mace, bicycle helmet, bugspray, and everything else I could need. Dad once said that he didn’t believe in luck, just preparation, so I’m preparing for everything.

The walk to the forest is painful and every sound makes me jump, but I get to the spot where I was kidnapped without incident. I keep expecting the scratching sound as I walk through the forest, but it doesn’t come. Why won’t it attack?

I put stickers on the trees as I walk to mark my way and avoid bushes where snakes could be hiding. I keep an eye out for the eye-searing reds and golds that surround the altar and when the brown-hued oranges and yellows of the trees begin to ignite, I know I’m getting close. Soon after, I find myself back at the black stone table among fire-colored leaves.

I scan the rim and base of the altar and find nothing. I hoist myself onto the altar and peek at the pit. Still nothing and I’m not willing to risk a closer look. All the leaves on the altar make a perfect opportunity to slip. 

Next, I check the discs. I spend a minute to look at the other 12 dreadful sounding options and wonder if any of them would have been a better choice than the Cat. But I know I’m just stalling. I swallow my fear and fiddle with the Black Cat disc until it twists clockwise and inch and flips around on a hinge. This side of the disc is simple bronze with black letters engraved on.

The Black Cat is the sign of misfortune and manipulation; the unfortunate possibility made into dreaded certainty. It is death by pure happenstance and is undone by caution.

It can be defeated if it is undone seven times.

“Undone by caution?” Dad was right; if I’m careful and smart I can avoid the Black Cat’s bad luck attacks. I reread it a few times until I realize something. “That’s why it hasn’t attacked again. It doesn’t want to risk being undone again.” The Black Cat won’t attack until it has a sure thing.

The second I say that, I hear the clacking scratching sound. And then I hear the leaves crunch under the feet of something big. I turn slowly and my blood freezes.

A bear. A large black bear is coming towards me. Not quite running but certainly not hesitantly. I can barely breathe. I can barely think. I can’t believe this is happening. But it is. Bears live in forests and sometimes they attack people; an unfortunate possibility made into a dreaded certainty.

 A soft laugh (slightly) draws my attention away from the beast and to a patch of shadow with two pinpricks of light in between two trees. 

“I await your undoing, Boris Bane,” the mocking voice says as the bear wanders closer. It doesn’t look very hungry or scared so I try to keep my head. “Truly. How will you escape? What bit of caution and preparation do you have in your pockets that can fight a bear?” 

I scoot away from the edge of the altar while minding the pit behind me. The bear’s close enough that it can jump up if it wants to.

My mind spins looking for something to say or do and quickly lands on, “If I die, your game ends.” I’m rasping a little, trying not to spook the bear, but I’m sure the Black Cat hears me. “You need me alive to sacrifice me next year. Otherwise, you won’t be able to wake up and play.” 

I have zero idea if this is even remotely true. The old man said that the thing needs a sacrifice to wake it up and the Moon drove him crazy so that he’d sacrifice himself. I don’t know what the Black Cat will do to sacrifice me next October, but it won’t work if I’m eaten by a bear today. 

I hope.

I chance a look at the catlike being barely visible in the blob of darkness. It waits and so does the bear. Then the thing laughs.

“Foolish boy. Do you really think we need you? We find our sacrifices one way or another.” The bear’s lips raise in a low growl as the Cat continues. “We appear in books, nightmares, and prayers. We are in the ramblings of lunatics and the visions of seers. We whisper everything you need to hear at a party or in a classroom, and your tiny mind does not even try to remember where you heard the rumor.” The bear rises on its hind legs and roars. I fumble backwards, my heart in my throat. “We will have another sacrifice. You, Boris Bane, may die.”

The bear swipes its paw, but without being on the altar with me, it only grazes me. And where else but my wounded, most likely infected, shoulder? I’d worn the most padded sweater and jacket I could find, but the burst of pain still makes me scream. It spooks the bear back a bit, but I take a step back too and trip on some leaves. I have just enough presence of mind to fall away from the pit. I try and fail to get up before the bear clamors onto the altar.

I fumble in my pockets, but I’m too scared to tell the mace from the bug spray. The bear lowers its head as it straddles me, opens its jaws, and without thinking I shove both cans into its mouth.

Roars turn into chokes and into bangs as its teeth puncture the cans. I feel a little bad for the bear as it bellows in pain and tries to get poison and metal out of its mouth. It’s not the bear’s fault that the Black Cat used it as a pawn. But I can’t do anything to help. I need to run.

I ignore the pain in my foot and shoulder and bolt for the trees, aiming for the sticker I placed on one of the trunks. I give my compass a glance and head in the opposite direction that I came in. I keep an eye out for falling branches, sneaky roots, hidden snakes and beehives, and more stickers. I try to tune out the bone-rattling angry thrum followed by the clacking scratches as the Black Cat tries to curse me again.

When I make it to the road, the Black Cat is waiting for me. Once again, the black shape is surrounded by a nimbus of malignant purple light that looks like it desperately wants to kill me. Once again, I hear the deep, snarling boom of defeated anger. And once again nothing happens, the Black Cat disappears. I’d escaped the bear and being lost in the forest. Two more victories down and just four to go.

I’m not very relieved, though. It’s going to step up its game and it can make almost anything happen. And what if it does nothing? The old man said I have to win by the end of October, but he never said what happens if I don’t. Will the game be over or will the Cat keep coming after me no matter how many times I beat it. If it doesn’t attack for the rest of the month and I can’t undo its bad luck, I’ll lose by default.

I hobble to a bus station, sit on a bench and force myself to calm down.

“I can do this. I did it three times and I can do it again.” I mumble this to myself a few  times until I almost believe it. But I can’t risk going home until the Cat is gone. “I can’t go anywhere that I don’t want torn to the ground by that crazy thing. Maybe I’ll hide out at school.” 

I laugh a bit at my gallow’s humor and spend a few minutes morbidly guessing all the ways the Black Cat could cause a building collapse. Then I start to think of something the old man said and something I read on the disc. By afternoon, the Black Cat still hasn’t attacked and I have a plan.

I hear the scratching a few times while hanging around the front of the school waiting for the last bell. But other than the one football striking my infected wound, nothing happens. The Black Cat is laying the groundwork for something and I don’t think I’ll enjoy what it is. 

It’s already the last period so the end of the school day ends quickly enough, but I don’t go inside. I don’t need to in order to see how many people are still in the building. After-school clubs, administrators still working, people who missed their rides or stayed behind to get something, all potential collateral damage for whatever the Black Cat is planning next. I suppose that’s what it was doing. I’m not happy that I’m taking such a risk with their lives, but I need to end this.

After about an hour, I see my parents’ car and a police cruiser pull up. My blood chills, but I manage to avoid running to them or inside the building. That’s what it wants. There’s going to be hell to pay if I survive this, but I can’t let them stop me. I circle the school and head to the football field earlier than I’d planned. I’d hoped to wait until practice was over, but if I stay away from the bleachers, players, and lights, I should be fine.

I wait for another hour until practice ends, anticipating something awful that never comes. The people in the school and the possibility of me going back must make the building too tempting of a target. But that won’t last. If this plan doesn’t work, it’ll be a miracle if I’m the only one who dies.

The last of the people leave and I quickly enter, making a beeline for the center of the field, out of range of any falling bleachers or stadium lights. I stand and wait as the sun starts sinking and a presence wells up behind me. The Black Cat is there when I turn.

“What are you planning, Boris Bane?” it asks. There’s no mockery in its voice, only suspicion.

“What are you planning?” I return. I recite the reasons I’d given myself for coming here, as much for myself as for it. “There’s nothing to fall on me. The grass is too green for a fire to spread. And even if the guards come, they don’t carry guns.”

“I will find a way,” it snaps, harshly and maybe a little desperately. The aura of blackness flickers purple. “Maybe one of the boilers in your school will explode and a shard of metal will find its way here.”

“You’ll have to put your back into that one. It’ll take a pretty big explosion and the school’s not even a decade old.” I’m fairly certain the Cat can manage it, but I don’t say that out loud.

“I can easily make that happen,” the Cat hisses. The purple aura starts to billow. “Clogged plumbing, loosened screws, and the whole building collapses!”

“But I’m not in the building,” I say, trying to sound smug. It’s trying to hold everyone hostage, but I won’t let myself be baited. “Destroying it will just be another failure.”

“I can send owls to peel your face off!” it shouts. The aura swarms around its arched feline body. The scratching sound mixes with far off hooting.

I’m scared but I stand my ground. “You couldn’t get me with a bear and at least those will actually attack humans. You’ll never make an owl attack me.”

“I can make anything possible, brat!” The aura almost surges outward as the monster bellows in anger. “How would you like a sinkhole right under your feet? You can suffocate in agony, unable to move! I can make it last hours!”

“It hasn’t rained in a month!” I shout back. “You can’t just retroactively make water underground or erode soil. That’s not how it works.”

“I decide how it works!” the Black Cat roars. The aura, so purple and bright that looking at it is like a punch in the eyes, finally storms forth. It sinks into the ground and saturates it with water. “I have choked people with four-leaf clovers and made them bludgeon themselves with horseshoes.” I sink to my knees as mouse-sized green beetles crawl from the soupy mud. “I have trapped people in the basements of collapsing skyscrapers and had them drown in deserts and given them food poisoning from their own chewed off tongues!” The purple waves strike out at the stadium lights. They explode into flames which race down the wooden poles and surge across the lawn. “I’ll give you gangrene and cancer and dementia! You won’t even remember your name as you excrete your last drop of blood! You! Will! Die!”

I try to wade out of the mudhole and swat away the biting insects, but it’s no use. The Black Cat’s aura shoots into the sky like a rocket. The clouds rush away to reveal the impossible: a fiery meteor headed right for me. The booming of the meteor and the laughing of the Cat and everything else almost drives me insane within a second. 

And then a second later it’s all over.

The surge of purple light snuffs out, the mud dries in a heartbeat, and beetles and the fires and the meteor all vanish. What stands before me as I pull myself out of the loose dirt looks like a normal black cat.

“What? No! What happened? What did you do?” the Cat sputters in terror. It arches its back, trying to reignite its power, but nothing happens. No scratching sounds or sudden bad luck or ominous aura, black or purple. By the time my legs are free and it gets the idea to run, it’s too late. “You cheated!” are its last words before my foot lands on its head.

The Cat’s mangled corpse evaporates into dust. The swelling in my shoulder and ankle start to lessen almost immediately. I flop down on the grass and breathe for what feels like the first time in two days. It’s over.

The old man said to learn the rules. The disc said ‘death by pure happenstance’. But a conjured meteor isn’t something that just happens like a sprained ankle or a hungry bear in the woods, so it doesn’t really count as happenstance. The Black Cat broke the rules and my guess was on the money. How lucky of me.

I start to head home before anyone comes to check on the noise. Facing my parents and the police is not going to be fun and being linked to a disappearing meteor won’t make it easier. But I don’t make it out of the stadium before I hear it.

It’s not the scratching sound, though it sends the same shivers down my spine. The harsh grind of stone against stone comes with an image in my mind: a skull-shaped white rock sliding down a groove. Away from the disc of the Black Cat and next to the disc labeled the Howling Moon. The old man may have said something about facing more than one sign of the Halloween Zodiac.

My breath quickens as I remember the discs he pointed to: the Vampire Bats, the Baleful Boneyard, the Wicked Lantern. If the stone keeps sliding, I’ll have to face all of them eventually. How far was the Hungry Devil from the Black Cat? 

The sky darkens much quicker than it should and I hear and feel as much as I see a golden light rising in my periphery. 

“Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look,” I remind myself. I need to get to the altar and read the Howling Moon’s disc. I need to read all of their discs.

I run for the forest. I don’t stop when the voices from the school turn to howls or the lawn starts to ripple and warp like a wet painting. I don’t stop to wonder if it’s really happening or if the Moon is already driving me insane. And when the Moon’s light becomes so thick and heavy at my back that I swear that massive ball of golden rock is an inch behind me and all I want to do is turn and let the light sink into my eyes and gums and nail beds…I don’t. I keep going for the forest. I’ll find the Howling Moon’s inscription and I’ll figure out how to beat it.

If I’m lucky.

[gaast]

Good DBZ fights are like...

Goku vs Frieza: Goku is at a clear power disadvantage and has to use every tool at his disposal to try to even harm Frieza. He succeeds and fails and eventually pulls off a super dramatic Large Spirit Bomb and manages to actually enrage the villain. Really good, really fun. SS Goku vs Frieza pales in comparison just because the series set up "Super Saiyans" as being terrifying enough that Frieza believes he'd lose to one so the drama sorta fades away.

Imperfect Cell vs Piccolo: A brief fight in a town Cell just destroyed, with Piccolo letting Cell kill a man begging for his life just to get more info on the opponent. Cell reveals who he is and what he's capable of and through Piccolo we see he's a threat. The Android Saga changes from here, with Vegeta in particular excited to square off with Perfect Cell. Real showstopper confrontation.

Imperfect Cell and Semiperfect Cell vs Trunks and Vegeta (including Vegeta and Cell vs Androids 17 and 18): The father-son dynamic rules these fights, with the conflicting motivations of all the characters perfectly congealing into a really brutal sequence. The personalities of Cell, Trunks, and Vegeta are on full display, and we once again see Saiyan pride go before the fall. We'll also see this turn on Perfect Cell later--so we get an echo of this sequence later. Perfect Cell knocking out Vegeta in a blink of an eye is a nice bonus.

Gohan, Krillin, and Vegeta vs The Ginyu Force: Through all of Namek we've followed and supported the weakest two fighters vying for the Dragon Balls and now they have an uneasy alliance with their former competitor (hell, they agree to make Vegeta immortal as their only hope of beating Frieza) and they are STILL the underdogs. And they manage to hold off long enough for Goku to show up. The Recoome fight really stands out here.

Gotenks vs Super Buu: This is all anxiety. You know Gotenks can win. You know he can win easily. But will he? Will he actually get over his own arrogance long enough to stop showing off the coolest moves in the series against an increasingly exasperated killer?

Vegito vs Super Buu: Usually I prefer underdog fights but it's so cathartic to see the strongest version of Buu just get annihilated by the fused Saiyan pair. The fact that he lets himself get absorbed so he can rescue everyone Buu ate while weakening Buu makes it all the cooler.

Goku, Vegeta, Hercule, and Mr Buu vs Kid Buu: We know Kid Buu is the weakest Buu but his endless energy and sole drive to fight and kill (plus his continued childishness) make him feel far more threatening than any other Buu. Between their desire to protect the weaker fighters, increasing exhaustion, NEED to stop Buu, and inability to finish him, Vegeta and Goku's increasing desperation, pleas to the people of Earth for help, and, simply, Hercule make this a really splid fight.

You can tell I like underdog fights and split-attention fights. DBZ is really bad at underdog fights usually because it's fairly established that strong defeats weak, and technique rarely saves you. As such it has to make its characters love fighting too much to want the fighting to end (or something similar) until it needs to. That works MAYBE up until Perfect Cell but Gohan should have known better, and I don't care what the transformation has to say about it.

So like, Ultra Instinct is cool but it doesn't really sell well in a series where typically if you're bigger you're better imo. Baby is way more effective as an antagonist before he becomes Baby Vegeta; every Shenron is more interesting than Omega Shenron; Buu works because his motivations are completely bizarre; Cell stops being interesting beyond his fighting abilities once he becomes Perfect Cell and doesn't have a motivation.

Underdog fights rule because they force the heroes to think outside the box and play to their strengths. Goku almost beats Frieza because Frieza never trained and was so always so strong he never really learned How To Fight. Goku's experience makes up for the power difference. The Android Saga works because people who aren't strong enough to stop the world's deadliest roadtrip aren't strong enough to do it but they keep trying.

It's more interesting when you're not certain that someone will get a new transformation or fusion and win at the end. It's more interesting when Super Buu absorbs Gohan almost in a panic and still loses.

[monocaelia]

comforting you after a nightmare headcanons

nightmares aren't fun, but luckily you have someone there to protect you.

feat. albedo, diluc, childe, kaeya, xiao, zhongli

genre : hurt/comfort, fluff

note : hbd to me!! here's a gift from me to you with one of my favorite tropes, hehe <:

❀ albedo

albedo isn't one to dream much, let alone rest. he's always caught up in his own research and experiments that sleep isn't really needed if he wanted to be more productive in his research, despite the worried comments from sucrose and your lighthearted nags that he'll stay short forever.

though, that isn't to say that he's not interested. there are many times that albedo has caught you dozing off in his laboratory while waiting for him to be done with his experiments. he would be lying to himself if he didn't wonder what could possibly be playing in your mind to make you be smiling like that while unconscious.

this time, though, is an exception.

test tubes and flasks filled with various liquids and concoctions fill albedo's workspace as he examines each and every one before filling in his notebooks with descriptions and drawings of his work. there's a shuffle from his other desk and his eyes shift up to glance at you. albedo's gaze softens at the sight of his coat draped over your shoulders as they move to the rhythm of your breathing.

he wonders why you choose to stay at his laboratory so late and wait for him to finish his research rather than head home alone and sleep in your much more comfortable bed. albedo supposes you find comfort in his presence, an odd thing to be comforted by really.

however, the gentle smile quickly falls from his face the moment he hears the quiet whimpers and pleas. as quickly as he could, albedo moves to your side and gently shakes you awake. he isn't the least surprised when your eyes snap open and a gasp leaves your lips.

"...are you alright?" the question breaks you from your daze and you seem to relax when you realize you aren't dreaming anymore. though, the way your hands and shoulders shake doesn't escape the sharp eyes observing you.

"come on, i think i'm done with my research for now. we can head home if you'd like?" albedo smiles when you nod your head, but as he turns to pack up and prepare to leave his laboratory your hand shoots out to grasp his own.

albedo is surprised at first, but the shock melts into endearment as his hand pulls yours up to his lips. he presses a gentle kiss on your knuckles, reassuring you that he'll be right there for you. that you wouldn't be alone.

"nightmares, huh? ...i wonder if i can concoct something to help eradicate the chances of them appearing. oh, don't worry, i won't leave your side for the rest of the evening. promise."

❀ diluc

diluc isn't prone to nightmares, honestly he probably gets them quite often. or maybe even dreamless dreams if he's lucky. well, considering he sleeps at all. he's busy being the darknight hero of mondstatdt in the dead of night, so sleep doesn't come by often for the red haired vigilante.

even when he does get nightmares, there's not many people he can call to or rely on to help comfort him. he doesn't trust any of the knights, and he definitely doesn't trust kaeya to help at all. so comforting someone isn't something he knows how to do well.

but he tries his best to comfort you in any way, shape, or form if you ever needed him to.

the knocking against his door is quiet, nearly nonexistent if diluc was preoccupied with anything other than trying to sleep. he would have ignored it if it weren't for the quiet whisper of his name from a voice he recognized. sighing, he rises from his bed and heads over to his door, mentally preparing himself for whatever you're planning to throw over his head.

instead, diluc is met with your cheeky smile. you're definitely up to no good, but he hasn't quite figured out what you were going to do or say. before he could even question why you're standing outside his door in the dead of night, you interrupt him.

"wow diluc! fancy seeing you here, do you come here often?" he deadpans at you and nearly closes the door to go back to sleep. but he notices the way your fingers twiddle, a sign that you're nervous about something. his eyes flicker to your face, scanning anything that would give him clues on what's on your mind.

"what happened?" diluc's brows furrow in worry seeing the way your smile falls and the way your body begins to curl in on itself. he offers a hand for you to take, an invitation for you to be comforted by the stoic man in front of you. he lets a small smile grow on his lips when he sees you brighten up a tad at his invitation.

your hand is encased in his own, scarred and rough with callouses but comforting and warm at the same time.

"go back to sleep, it's already getting really late. if you need anything, though, i'll be right here until the dawn rises."

❀ childe

although sleep is necessary to maintain perfect health, childe finds it difficult to maintain a proper sleeping schedule due to his job as a fatui harbinger. when the tsaritsa calls, he needs to be there immediately to come to her aid and carry out her orders regardless of how inconvenient it was for him.

but, having many siblings, especially younger ones, has always prepared childe to comfort and protect anyone that he holds close to his heart. nobody, not even nightmares, can get close enough to harm the people he loves, not if he's alive to knock them down a peg.

which definitely includes you, someone who holds his entire world in the palm of your hands.

childe finds you awake at the dead of night after one of his shifts at the northland bank. which is surprising considering you're always asleep before he gets back home from work, always trying to stay up to welcome the harbinger home but always succumbing to the sweet embrace of slumber.

a mischievous grin grows on his lips as he plans to spook you, but as he nears your body, the shaking of your body and quiet sniffles reach his ears. immediately, childe's hand is on your shoulder and he frowns when you yelp and whip around to see him.

"o-oh, ajax, i didn't expect to see you home so soon. i was just getting ready for bed." a white lie. childe presses his lips into a thin line, his hand reaching out to catch a tear falling from your cheek. did...did he do this to you? was he being a bad partner for not putting aside more time for you?

as if reading his mind, you vehemently shake your head and grab onto childe's wrist. "no! no... it's not what you think i just had a really bad dream and couldn't go back to sleep. don't worry, you don't need to beat yourself up over this." he relaxes immediately at your comment, but he still feels bad for leaving you alone when you needed someone to comfort you.

childe leans over, cupping your face in his hands as he showers your face in featherlight kisses. your giggles fill the room and the habinger can't help but laugh as well, especially after pressing a wet, sloppy kiss on your lips. "how about i cook you a nice stew for tonight? it always helped teucer calm down when he was scared."

and you take him up on that offer. the rest of the evening is filled with light laughter from the both of you as childe moves around the kitchen and tells you stories of his childhood. the scene is comforting, peaceful, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"how about we turn in for tonight? don't worry, nothing will harm you as long as your big, strong ajax is by your side!"

❀ kaeya

despite his title of being a "lazy" and "laid-back" captain of the calvary, kaeya isn't one to sleep too much. he has a regular sleeping schedule, though there are some nights where the memories of his past haunt him and he stays up reminiscing about how things were.

he's one to brood alone, not letting anyone see him vulnerable. but he likes to be relied on. there isn't a bone in his body that prevents him from helping anyone in need, even though the way he gets things done is quite... unconventional to everybody else's standards.

but when you call to him for help, he’s there in an instant.

the sound of rustling from beside kaeya stirs him from his slumber. he squints, his good eye focusing in the darkness of his room before landing on your curled up figure beside him. he figures you’re just shifting in your sleep and closes his eyes again, but you shift again and sigh. surely, you’re not sleeping at this point.

kaeya gently calls out your name, a warm smile on his face when he sees you startle from his voice. though, his smile melts away from his face when he sees your expression. it doesn’t help that you flinch slightly when his hand reaches over to brush against your cheek.

“sorry, i just…i’m still shaken from my dream and-“ your apologies are cut short when kaeya sends you a comforting smile and cups your jaw in his hand. he assures you that it’s fine.

“are you okay? how long have you been up?” it takes you a moment too long to come up with a lie that would put your lover at ease. when you come up with an answer, kaeya is already staring at you with his mismatched orbs, one of deep sapphire and the other a light, milky blue color. you can’t lie to him now.

so you tell the calvary captain about the dream you just had, not going too into details with what really shook you. and kaeya listens to everything you say, a hand firmly on your arm to remind him that you’re with him and not whatever occurred in your dreams.

he makes little comments here and there to lighten the mood, though he knows when to keep quiet so you can talk it through. when you finish talking the dream through, kaeya pinches your cheek, chiding you for dreaming of such things.

but he reassures you that you’re fine, and that he’s here to protect you should anything from your dreams come into reality. he jokes about letting you handle everything alone, but you know he wouldn’t despite how cheeky he is.

"don't let the bedbugs bite, [name]. haha, kidding. i'll be here to fight them off if you need me. i am a captain after all."

❀ xiao

xiao isn't unfamiliar with nightmares and dreams. don't forget, one of his duties under the reign of the yaksha's previous master was to devour the dreams of the innocent. it had gotten to the point where dreams were the only things he could stomach, despite detesting the intent behind it.

despite it all, though, xiao is still an adeptus who protects the mortals and the innocent of liyue. his sole job now, under his contract with rex lapis, is to protect even if it means throwing his life away. with a swift call of his name, he would be there to be the guardian of liyue and anyone residing in it.

and that includes you, the sole mortal that the young adeptus enjoys the company of.

a gasp tears through your throat as you sit up in your bed, sweat dripping down the side of your face. your eyes are blown wide open with the visions of your nightmare still clear in your mind. the rapid beating of your heart and panting are the only sounds heard in your otherwise quiet bedroom.

curses spill from your lips as you cradle your head in your hands, your knees pulled up to your chest to try and make yourself as small as you possibly could. but to no avail, no matter what you did to comfort yourself or make yourself forget the nightmare, the visions still flashed in your memories every time you closed your eyes.

you don't hear the rustling from your window, nor did you feel the presence of someone crouching from behind your curtains. it's only when he gently calls your name do you whip your head around, eyes coming face to face with golden eyes that gleam in the moonlight.

"xiao... sorry i didn't see you there," you stutter, quickly wiping your eyes and turning away so the young adeptus wouldn't see you crying. his eyes narrow at you, eyebrows furrowing as a frown settles on his face. "what are you-"

your hands are pulled away from your face and you're pulled closer to him. "you're crying." you try to deny xiao's observation and reassure him that you're fine, but a hand gently brushes against your cheek.

xiao doesn't say anything when the tears begin falling down your face again. he doesn't say anything when you jump into his arms and bury your face in his chest. you feel his arms firmly wrap themselves around you. he doesn't say a word, but his actions alone assure you that he would be there with you for the rest of the evening.

"sleep. should any more dreams come to haunt you during your rest, i'll be here to dispose of them."

❀ zhongli

as an archon, zhongli doesn't find much need for sleep. he's a god and no god needs sleep to be energized for the following day. it's not like it would do well for him anyways, seeing as he would much rather prefer strolling the lit up streets of liyue harbor in the late evening before returning to his home to drink tea and relax.

that's not to say he isn't familiar with dreams and how they can affect mortals. he knows full well the impact they can have, especially if they're dreams filled with horrible outcomes or stuff nobody would like to be reminded of.

so when you come to him to seek comfort after a horrible night, he's ready to welcome you into his embrace.

the gentle whisper of zhongli's name alerts him of your presence from the hallway in your shared home. the archon lifts his head to look at you, eyes made of molten gold meeting your shaking gaze. "what's wrong, dear?" you don't answer his question and instead shift your gaze to the ground.

zhongli tells you to "come here" in the gentlest voice he could muster, and you do. as soon as you sit beside your lover, his hand comfortingly holds your jaw and lifts your face so you can see him. there's nothing but endearment and love in his gaze. "you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to."

he hums in amusement seeing the way your body relaxes after that. there's a gentle tug on your arm, a signal for you to find comfort in zhongli's embrace, and you find yourself snug in between the archon's arms. you inhale deeply, zhongli's comforting scent filling your lungs.

his hands rake gently up and down your spine and hearing his heartbeat from where you rest on his chest calms you immensely. if it weren't for your nervous, rhythmic tapping against his arm, zhongli would have assumed you fell back asleep in his arms.

"would you like to hear about the play i've been attending to recently? the plot is quite interesting, i think you would enjoy it." he attempts to distract you for a while to calm your nerves after waking so abruptly, and it works, not to his surprise.

as he drones on and on about the plot that doesn't quite make sense to you in your dazed state, the archon notices the way your fingers have stilled and your breathing has evened out, much calmer and more regulated than before. zhongli smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

"it's starting to get late. you should try to rest again. don't worry, i'll be beside you should anything happen to you once more."

[mistleaneous-chaos]

Ok so I just beat the Shunning Grounds in my second play through and finished that area for the first time so here’s a summary of my initial reaction.

Elden Ring Spoilers btw

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Me, clueless: Man that Mohg fight sure was good, it was cool of Fromsoft to put his first form as foreshadowing to his real fight! Oh? There’s a hidden passage past this church, cool! Let’s just see what-

Elden Ring: Throws hundreds of dead merchants at me with armor that has heavy lore implications, a few that survived and only use frenzied flame, with the only thing being heard in the background being a sad song played by what looks like Hollows when Hollows are from Dark Souls so they’re really just people who were likely descended from everyone in there meaning they lived their entire lives there only being taught one song with their only food likely being moss, rats, and sewer water.

Me:

BOY I GUESS KALE REALLY WASNT KIDDING WHEN HE SAID HIS PEOPLE CLAP THE FUCK BACK WHEN HARMED

But for real though, this area is probably one of the most impactful in the game to me. Just the hit you get when you combine this with the Shunning Grounds is just. You have this cesspit where babies grow up to become the Omens you meet down there, with some still worshipping the Erdtree like Morgott and mourning the others they grew up with. And then you go deeper and find an entire people just locked up there for crimes they didn’t commit, essentially preventing the birth of an entire generation of people. It provides a bit of an ironic twist to Melina’s plea to not prevent births by becoming the Lord of Frenzied Flame, because the way the Frenzied Flame came to be in this world was due to the prevention of an entire possible generation of people and reducing them to nomads who are all scattered, playing a song that is still played by those who were left behind as well.

Also I didn’t know that the merchants used frenzy incantations so this REALLY came out of nowhere. But yeah this area was one of the few that also evoked some hard-hitting emotion, and I fuckin’ loved it. I didn’t go with the fingers btw, that’s for my third playthrough where I’m gonna go for an Arcane Build!

[ashintheairlikesnow]

hmmm can vampires get sick? maybe sick vampire chris thinking Jake is gonna pull out or file down his fangs? or just thinking Jake’s gonna hurt him?

CW: Sick whumpee, vampire whumpee, blood drinking, vague implications of past sadistic/creepy whumper, dehumanization, vague tooth/mouth whump (nothing direct, but aftermath)

Sort of a sequel to this piece, part of the Vampire Chris AU

"What hurts?" He keeps his voice low, and carefully doesn't hesitate before he lays a hand over the vampire's forehead. Of course it feels lukewarm, room temperature, but he still goes through the motions of feeling for a fever. It's muscle-memory, instinct, and he keeps forgetting Chris is dead.

He has been dead for a long time, if his occasional comments on what sounds like Prohibition are true.

"Bones," Chris whimpers, twisting where he lays in Jake's bed. There's a bright flush in his cheeks from the blood he'd drained from the two men who broke into the house. Those odd eyes glitter, overbright. "My... m'bones hurt, Jake."

His mouth opens, pulling air in over his tongue and down his throat in soft pants, and Jake is reminded that vampires don't sweat. Not the same way, anyway, although with enough blood they can, in thin sheens of pink-tinged liquid that are even more alarming than their tears.

His fangs are visible this way, razor-sharp canines that come down further than the rest of his teeth, a brighter white than all the others from being pulled and regrowing so many times.

Jake swallows against his nervousness, brushing hair away from the vampire's forehead. His slit pupils are dilated, taking up too much of the iris, and he tells himself that Chris is as scared as he is of the instincts that drive him, barely understands them.

Vampires aren't animals - but when they don't understand themselves, they act like it sometimes.

"Do you think maybe those guys were on something? Like, a drug maybe?" He pets through Chris's hair, fingercombing his hair, and watches Chris's eyes flutter closed.

It's hard not to feel more than a little reassured not having to look at them any longer. Which makes him feel guilty, considering this not-a-kid kid just beat up people for hurting him.

Killed them, his brain whispers. Killed them like he could kill you.

"May, maybe," Chris mumbles, and pants again.

His gums seem oddly dark, where normally they're pale, and Jake frowns. He wishes now he knew more about vampire physiology, that he'd paid more attention in class when they took the safety courses on how to avoid them.

There's not exactly a class on caring for one - not unless you can afford to purchase them outright.

"Well, when you were-... uh, before you found us... did you ever feel like this?"

Chris's eyes blink slowly back open and he nods. "Sometimes. My, my, my, my-... someone would, um, take something before, before the party, and I'd..." He groans and shudders. Jake can see the pain move through his body as he trembles nearly violently. "I'd feel like, like, like this after... for hours..."

"Okay. So... probably you just have to let this get worked out of your system, right? Or... is there a medicine?"

"No... just... just drink more." Chris looks up at him, eyes so wide and sad and scared and hurting, and grabs onto his wrist with one hand. Those cool fingers are never not a little startling, colder than the air around them, than the rest of his body.

Vampires have poor circulation, Jake knows, even when they're filled up on a fresh meal. He's seen Chris heal his own wounds before with his tongue, had him explain that they don't heal on their own with time if they're on hands or feet.

"Chris-"

"You, you, you, you-... can, um, you can take my teeth after. You can. I'll hold still. I'll, I'll be good." Chris's plea is barely a whisper.

His nails, which must have been a little too long when he was killed and turned, dig painfully into Jake's wrist in his desperation.

"I'll be so, so, so so so so good, Jake. So good for you, and then, you can, you you you can take my teeth-... Sir always liked it, it makes me me me cry, we we cry blood, Sir liked to take photos of it-"

"Sssshhhh. Hush, Chris." Jake's mind races. There are others in the house, but-... he can't ask them to give up blood to Chris. They've already taken over cleaning the blood up from the hardwood floor. Nat's already dealt with talking to the cops and the EMTs and the coroner before the bodies were taken away. They already handled hiding Chris in a false-backed closet while Jake was interviewed by police officers who looked interested and excited,, not disturbed.

It's not every day you see a vampire attack, after all.

Mostly they're under control, kept on leashes and muzzled like dangerous dogs, the property of rich celebrities looking for novelty in a world where they already have everything. The few ferals are killed pretty fast.

Or so everyone says.

Jake is starting to wonder if there are more vampires out there than he knows about.

The cops had even insisted on checking the attic, as if Chris was a bat they might find hanging upside down. That had been ridiculous, but it's not like Jake could say he knew better without being asked how he knew so much about them in the first place.

Oh, because we keep one like a stray fucking puppy. That wouldn't go over well.

He feels a little woozy from the adrenaline crash, and still aches from the bruised ribs where he was kicked around. His mouth aches from the duct tape they'd put over it, and he'd got a hell of a rash starting around his wrists. He's so exhausted he might collapse.

But... Chris really did show up right on time, and maybe saved his life.

Chris pulls Jake's wrist to his face, nuzzles into the inside of it against the pale blue veins that show through the thin skin. Jake shudders at the feeling, swallowing back a low-level disgust.

He wonders how old the teenager really is - he wonders that all the time.

"You c-can have my teeth, after," Chris whispers, lips moving against Jake's skin. "You can keep them. Sir used to, to, to keep them in a box and show m-me. Just, please, please help me feel better, Jake, please... It won't hurt."

Jake closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "If it'll help... fine. But I'm not taking your teeth. They're yours."

"Thank you," Chris breathes out. "That's, that's, that's okay. I can still fix it for you. Thank you, Jake." His fangs slip back into Jake's skin as easily as a heated knife through warm butter.

The venom hits his bloodstream before the pain hits his nerves, and Jake feels himself slump over, head falling onto Chris's shoulder as all his limbs go dead.

It almost feels good, as his ribs stop aching, and the bruises stop throbbing on his skin. He can see why rich people love it as a party drug. You could drift in this place of perfect no-pain for a long, long time.

He feels only the wet movement of Chris's tongue, the shift of his fangs, the soft pressure of the other teeth pushing down. Chris purrs softly, drinking his blood like a kitten lapping milk.

It goes on and on, and for one terrifying second Jake thinks he's not going to stop until he's dead.

"Ch-... Chris-"

Those fangs slip suddenly out of his skin, the wet cool tongue licks rough over his wounds - closing them instantly.

The venom slowly fades, the aches and pains settling back into his body. Jake groans, feeling weak and exhausted.

Chris has to push him up off his shoulder, with unnatural strength moving him to lay on his side on the bed. Jake can barely keep his eyes open.

Chris, leaning over him, could rip his throat out and he couldn't even raise a hand to try and defend himself right now. Jake sees the body of the first dead robber behind his eyelids, the expression of horror written in eternal rictus in his expression, the blood down his shirt and puddled beneath him on the floor. The other man, fighting until he stopped, slumping until Chris had drained him to death.

"I feel better," Chris whispers, kneading at Jake's shirt briefly. "I, I, I feel so much better. Go to, um, go to sleep, Jake. I'll fix it so you're safe."

Jake can't even begin to understand what that means before he's already slid into something more like unconsciousness than actual sleep. The world around him simply goes black, and the last thing he feels is Chris pulling a blanket up to his chin.

The last thing he hears is those soft padding footsteps leaving the room.

When he wakes, he finds two fangs, pristine white with bloodied roots, sitting in a washcloth next to where his head lays on the pillow. he finds a pair of small pliers on the bathroom sink, with droplets of red around them.

The sun is shining outside the window, a bird singing loud enough to drive a drillbit into his head, and Chris is curled up asleep in the dark at the back of a closet, mouth slightly open.

Jake stares down at the empty spots where his fangs should be, and wonders if he's grateful, or horrified.

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@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband

[pineapple-lover-boy]

Can- can I just talk about the Victuuri relationship? Pretty please?

I just…. I’ve never seen a healthy relationship that starts from idolization and a need to get out that has ended in a satisfying way.

Let me elaborate:

We all know that Yuri idolized Victor. It’s why he was so nervous in the beginning and why it took time for them to build on their relationship, he saw Victor as a god.

Victor? He was depressed. He loved the ice so much but he longer found excitement in competitions. He didn’t have any worthy opponents that had a chance of beating him (sorry Chris).

I believe Victor “fell in love” at the banquet. He was attracted to Yuri but, even though he lost, he also saw potential in him. That night was probably the most exciting night for him in a long time. I think he felt genuine affection for Yuri but also saw a way to get out of his predicament.

Then, of course, Yuri didn’t show up the following season (a year had passed before the present timeline). He was most likely annoyed that someone who had gave him excitement didn’t show up. Did he think Yuri had a chance of beating him at first? Probably not. Did he see potential or at least someone he could have fun with during the season? Hell yes!

And then when he saw the video of Yuri skating Stay Close To Me, something that awarded him a gold medal. That’s all he needed. He saw how Yuri not only skated it perfectly but I bet he thought Yuri skated it better. Let’s not forget that emotion is a huge part of skating. If you don’t skate with the passion your supposed to hold for whatever theme you have, your performance can almost seem futile. Victor obviously won because he perfected it but if it was based on how he presented it alone, he would’ve lost. He saw someone worthy of skating an gold medal piece while also having the heart to do it. That’s talent.

Anyways, because of this, their relationship doesn’t hold well in the beginning. He’s passive aggressive towards Yuri because he doesn’t see his own talent and Yuri is just going along for the ride because holy shit it’s Victor fucking Nikiforov.

As they get to know each other and Yuri opens up more (plus Victor getting info on Yuri from the others) Victor starts to see Yuri as an actual person and not someone he can use to project himself onto and then later skate against. And Yuri starts to see him as an actual person too.

I saw on another post talking about how we didn’t see them during the summer and how the end credits of every episode suggest they got to know each other better as both in the credits and in the show they (Yuri) are able to touch each other more. I 100% believe this.

I also believe they might’ve had an argument or two on this topic. It’s not easy to switch from inadvertently seeing someone as anything but a person to an actual person with emotions and feelings. I believe Victor would’ve tried to back away from this subject but Yuri wouldn’t let him. It wasn’t big arguments like in episode 7. It was probably little quarrels that annoyed them both but after having a long conversation they finally started to become more comfortable with each other.

Yuri started letting go of the notion that Victor was a god like creature and Victor saw him as something other than a pawn. Yuri stopped getting as embarrassed with Victor touching him and Victor stopped trying to seduce him as much just so he could see the man from the banquet.

This most definitely leads the way towards a healthier relationship but episode 7 was inevitable. Yuri’s anxiety was at an all time high when he comes out on top. The fact that he needs to stay on top and not mess up is getting to him. As a person with anxiety, it’s pure hell. The thoughts of failing won’t get out of his head and even as he turns off all the monitors he can still hear everything.

Victor takes him away from prying eyes and has no idea what to do. Despite an obvious change that would’ve had to include some emotions from both occurring over the summer, he still has no idea how to help someone in distress.

Then he makes his first mistake. Yuri is visibly shaken by someone’s scores (can’t remember who) and Victor, who is at his wits end, yells at him to stop listening and puts his hands over Yuri’s ears. This tells Yuri how nervous Victor is too and despite knowing that Victor wouldn’t leave him now it shows to him that Victor doesn’t have faith in him (even if he does).

Victor tried to shatter Yuri’s heart. He must’ve expected Yuri to maybe sign heavily but tell him that he’ll do everything in his power to win (probably something that’s happened with him and Yakov). Instead he see’s the consequences of his carelessness. Yuri rightfully lashes out at him and even through all that Victor stills says “should I kiss you?”. Idk what Yuri was thinking but if I were him I would be extremely offended that Victor would try and use me like some doll he can play with and can assume that physical affection and love can fix everything, which was probably what Yuri was thinking.

There’s something off about Yuri and Victor when they emerge but Yuri is surprisingly better now. Cathartic crying can do wonders, kids. There’s also my favorite part of the entire show (couldn’t find a gif):

*head jab* “Hey, fuck you.”

*more head jabs* “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. I know you don’t like this you unempathetic dicknip.”

*head pat* “You’re forgiven.”

We all know what happens next: Yuri ends his love story with Victor’s signature move and Victor kisses him out of joy and the need to one up him (with love, of course).

I’m gonna get a little sloppy here with the timeline because I have the memory of a female protagonist that needs to go back to work to get something only to accidentally bump into the jerk CEO of which she will develop a toxic relationship for fan service, so forgive me.

Gonna skip ahead to the scene where Yuri tells Victor that he’s leaving skating, and basically Victor too. (At this moment I realized I’ve been spelling Viktor with a c and not a k which is really fucking with my brain but it’s too late to go back). Victor starts crying and realizes just how Yuri felt when he was rejecting him.

I believe Yuri found some light in the situation because of that fact, which Victor was not having. They’ve been closer than ever now. They’ve kissed, they’ve also announced they they’re getting married, so what the hell?!

Yuri, as we know, feels he’s keeping Victor from the ice. Victor, while he misses the ice and wouldn’t mind being competitive again, has found meaning and if he’s going to be Yuri’s coach to stay where he is than so be it.

He wanted to coach Yuri because he wanted a worthy competitor and while he still wants that, what matters most now is his relationship with Yuri. If he stops being Yuri’s coach and Yuri goes off the ice he knows it will be the end. Yuri loves the ice too and I’d bet he’d try to distance himself from Victor as to not feel regret from leaving without actually knowing that he’s doing it.

They’ve grown so much at this point. But that doesn’t mean it’s over. After all they’ve been through Yuri doesn’t realize that consequences of parting from one another. While being too dependent on your spouse isn’t good, it’s what they both need right now. They are what caused the other person to be happy again and while I hate those types of storylines this one executed it perfectly.

I find Victor’s silent plea to Yurio absolutely heartbreaking. He knows it’s bad to put pressure on people but now he’s doing that to a 15 year old boy. He’s putting his relationship and his life into this child’s hands because he knows there’s nothing else he can do.

I do think Yurio had a crush on Yuri but even if he didn’t: Yuri has taught him so much. He, although being an ass most of the time, has really come to love Yuri as family. It’s clear that Yurio was always lonely (Otabek being his first friend and all) but once he came to Japan and lived, truly lived there, he wasn’t lonely anymore.

Yurio wins, Yuri gets silver and all’s well that ends well.

I guess my point of this was to show how well the relationship in YOI was. I could’ve included some more detail on some points but I usually write stuff in one take (it’s very hard to revise without my mind shutting on itself).

I just love how an implicitly toxic relationship can come out so healthy. They don’t do any of that miscommunication bullshit and when they do it’s because the characters don’t know what to do or how to handle something. Like humans do!

They could’ve easily made this the hot famous guy thinks the kawai girl boy is just so adorable and the kawai girl boy is absolutely infatuated with the hot guy. Hijinks ensue which includes the kawai girl boy thinking the hot guy is in love with someone else. She He gets pushed into thinking that she’s he’s more independent in the end and happily ever after for the couple that will divorce in less than five years! Yay!

Seriously, I thought that was what was going to happen but YOI subverted my expectations so much. They are people that grew from their bad mindsets. And you know what? Yuri still has anxiety! Victor is still bad with handling emotions! And that’s ok! We don’t change that quickly. It takes time and hopefully another season.

I’m definitely using this show as a template for healthy relationships. It’s so hard for me to properly write them when I’ve never been in one and I’m not given the chance to see it happen in different environments (when searching it up all I get is “they trust each other. They blame each other. They’re compassionate.” Like ok but can you show me how?)

Yuri!!! On ice…. I love you so much. You have done so much for my mental health and my writing. Thank you.