#more enjoyable than forces but everywhere people make it seem worse

[tatck]

w why do people hate sonic lost world so much. it's alright. i liked running on walls. i even liked the levels. it was cute

[metize]

Valentione’s Day Chocolate

Emet-Selch x WoL (AFAB) smut Tags: Valentione's Day ; No Spoilers ; AFAB Warrior of Light ;They/Them Pronouns for Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) ; Gender-Neutral Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) ; Fluff and Smut

A/N:Emet smut! Finally posting my FFXIV fics on tumblr. Cuz I want to do headcanons and requests and stuff...... Anyways! This is just fluff and smut. No warnings just pure bastard ascian thirst quenching material.

You were resting in your room in the Pendants, sitting down at the dining table when Emet-Selch waltzed in. You were over trying to get him to leave at this point, the recurring encounters made you more accustomed to his insufferable personality.

"Hey! Stop it, this isn't for you!" You pulled the box of chocolates away from the Ascian, who already held one in his hand.

"Oh, please, you have dozens more on you little pile there, Hero, selfishness is not a good look  for you." He said unbothered by your reaction. Emet-Selch gestured towards your stack of heart-shaped boxes, they were gifted to you by the people of the Crystarium all of them very eager to show their appreciation for the Warrior of Darkness.

"This one's different. This one….  It's from the Exarch." You mutter, tracing your fingers along the container.

"And? Is the chocolate any sweeter when it's handed to you by our friendly neighborhood hooded freak?"

"He's not-" you don't know why you feel the urge to defend the Crystal Exarch, but you feel very close to him, his devotion and wisdom are admirable and you felt a growing sense of fondness towards the anonymous Crystarium ruler. "I don't know why I'd even bother explaining these things to you." You shake your head, telling yourself not to waste your breath. "Looking at you Ascians I scarcely believe your kind would understand feelings."

Emet-Selch popped the round bonbon into his mouth before saying. "How cruel, Hero. I will have you know I feel as much as you do." He sighs disappointed "Perhaps even more, I'd argue." He muttered under his breath.

"Well then understand that this box is full of feelings, fondness, appreciation…"

"Strange, those don't translate that well into taste." He mused and crossed his legs "I must say I find your day of courtship is severely lacking. Is this all you do to show you care for another?"

You rolled your eyes "Well excuse us mortals for letting you down yet again." You close the violated box, sealing it back by tying the red ribbon over it. "Here you can have this one if you want candy that badly." You push a random package, pink and sparkly, towards Emet-Selch.

“Oh, Warrior, you shouldn’t have!” he feigned bashfulness and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “I am very flattered, oh look you even wrote me a letter, let me see.” There was indeed a small piece of paper attached to the present, Emet-Selch unfolded the card before reciting “Dear Emet-Selch,” You huff in amusement, curious as to what the Ascian would make up “I pale in comparison to you and your kind, I am so grateful for your selflessness and your assistance during my meaningless quests.” You crossed your arms, not surprised by his antics, but then you weren’t expecting him to continue. “We are sworn enemies and yet I cannot quell the flames burning inside of me whenever I see you. I want nothing more than be ravished by you, every night I touch myself to the thought of y-”

“G-gods! That’s it your Valentione’s candy rights have been revoked.” You grab the box he held in his hands, taking it away from him, your face burning up at his shameless smirk. “Do you have nothing else to do besides teasing me for your own amusement? Just walk into your creepy portal and get a hobby already.” You get up from the table, pretending to be cleaning things up.

“Ah, you’d be surprised at how enjoyable it is to watch you squirm.” But he got up right behind you. “So much passion, Hero. Who would’ve thought you garnered such feelings for me.”

“Pff, you wish. And there is no passion or feelings in that letter, who’s to say I didn’t just want you to fuck me and that’s it.” You turned around to face him. He was way closer than you expected him to be and you stumble backward a bit, yet he steps right back into your personal space.

“If I were to fuck you, Hero, it'd most certainly be with passion, I can assure you." He smiled and reached to caress your hair.

“You’re the worst.” You averted your gaze, embarrassed by the closeness and his gentle touch, yet you didn’t move away. Of course you didn’t, you were attracted to that bastard for some reason and you cursed yourself endlessly for it. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean just to get a reaction out of me.”

He grabbed your face by your chin, his touch now rough, forcing you to look at him. “I’ve told you before, Hero. I do not lie.” His tone is now low and he delights himself seeing you get goosebumps on your skin as he caresses your arm with his free hand. “Though I cannot deny how much I enjoy your reactions.”

It annoyed you how readable you were to him, every part of your body seemed to betray you and clearly show him exactly how much you were affected by his presence. You couldn’t even process the fact he started closing the gap between you until you felt his lips press against yours. You let out a tiny gasp in surprise, parting your lips slightly, he pressed himself closer deepening the kiss and pushing his tongue into your mouth. You started kissing him back and you could feel him smile against your lips, his mouth growing hungrier as he guided you back against the table you were just talking on.

You sat on the table, glad you managed to put away the gifts giving you some space to rest on. Emet nudged himself in between your legs, you spread them wider unconsciously giving him more space, welcoming him closer. “So pliant to my touch, dear hero.” He murmurs, his hands gripping your waist as he starts kissing your neck. “Tell me how much you want it.”

“Please… Touch me…” You plead softly before you can get too self-conscious about sounding needy. You’re instantly rewarded with the feeling of his gloved hand slipping under your top, reaching to play with one of your breasts. His other hand slowly unbuttoning said blouse, while he peppered your revealed skin with kisses. Once your torso was fully exposed you fought the urge to cover yourself as Emet-Selch’s persistent gaze never left your upper body.

“You’ve tempted me for far too long, Warrior of Light…” he spoke more to himself than to you, shaking his head before diving to kiss one of your nipples while his hand tugged at the other. You bit your lips to try and stifle your groans, but Emet tsked at you. “Don’t hide your voice from me, I wish to hear it.” He smiled devilishly. “The more pathetic you sound the happier I get.” To punctuate his phrase he blew on your slickened pink bud, making your breath hitch.

“Y-you really are the worse.” You shook your head, cheeks flushed at the way he played with your body as a practiced musician did with their instrument.

“Maybe so…” He mused, gripping your bottoms to undress you further. “But will I find you dripping for the awful being before you? How come my virtuous hero finds themselves in this predicament? Submissive, pliant, needy, beneath their villain’s touch…” He smirked and kissed his way down your body as your garments were pulled down, leaving you completely bare while the Ascian was fully clothed. The contrast made you shiver with anticipation, his words were going straight to your core, the sheer wrongness of this whole setting was infuriatingly arousing. Emet was on his knees between your legs, you could feel his hot breath on your skin. He looked at you straight in the eyes as he pulled his glove off with his teeth, right before using his now bare fingers to spread your lips open. “Maybe you’re not such a good warrior to your Goddess after all, are you? From here all I see is a depraved, needy little thing.”

“Emet, p-please…” His touches were fleeting and his mouth left wet kisses on her inner thigh.

“Hm?” He looked up, feigning innocence.

“Please I need you…”

“You are so greedy with your words, pray share them with me. What do you need of me?” His fingers gently rubbed your entrance, you moan still trying to sort your words out while he teased you. He sighed. “What is it, do you want my fingers deep inside your cunt? Want me to spread you open with my fingers and make you come on them?” You nodded profusely at his suggestions and he plunged a digit into your entrance with no warning pulling a gasp from your lips before he kept talking. “You want my mouth on you? Want me to use my tongue to bring you to completion while you whine and try to grind against my mouth?”

“Yes! Gods yes.” With that his lips were on you.

He kissed your pussy still stretching it with his finger, he added a second digit as he started licking and teasing your clit. You couldn’t help but gasp and moan under his ministrations, his hands reached everywhere inside of you and his mouth was absolutely sinful. You softly begged him not to stop, as his fingers curled inside you and his warm tongue circled your sensitive nub. You cried out coming around him, you didn’t even notice you had you hand gripping his hair until you were coming down from the high. You were aching still, you were pretty sure you’d go insane if you didn’t get filled with the Ascian’s cock in the next few minutes.

“M-more…”

“Insatiable little thing, aren’t you?” his usual condescending tone was betrayed by his visible erection. “Want your pretty little cunt filled with my cum? Broken little thing, you are…” Your vision was hazy, you were lost in both the afterglow and the arousal that was building up again inside you. You weren’t watching his movements, all you could focus on was his amber eyes blown out with lust and the filthy words he spoke into your ear, soon enough you felt his tip tease your entrance, rubbing it up and down against your slit.

“Don- Don’t do this… ah… to me.” you were tired of his teasing, it was bordering on cruelty at this point. “Need you inside me…”

That seemed to persuade him enough because he started pressing into your warm entrance at once. His lips went back to kissing yours as he bottomed out inside, the kiss was desperate and passionate, the way his mouth consumed you arousing you further as you felt his dick stretching your walls.

“All the way in…” he announced and kissed your forehead gently, giving you a moment to adjust. You nodded violently giving him permission to move already and he smiled at your eagerness. His thrusts started deep and steady, your moans filling the room each time he hit just the right spot inside of you. “Is this what you need, Hero? You need to be filled, hm? Only I can make you feel complete, my dear warrior.” He pulled your hair and looked into your eyes, as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “I see you. I know what you need and only I can give it to you.”

You cried out for him as his pace quickened, you could feel your second orgasm approaching quickly but you wanted to come to his voice speaking more filthy things to you. He noticed it too, smirking at you before continuing to speak. “Come around my cock, my needy broken little hero. Do it and I’ll give you my cum, I’ll fill you up like you need to be filled. I will ruin you for anyone else.” You moaned and scratched his clothed back as he fucked you through your climax. He didn’t stop pounding you. “That’s it, that’s my good little hero… Fuck…” He groaned feeling you clenching around him, his pace faltering until he came inside you.

The both of you breathe heavily before Emet kissed your forehead. You close your eyes still catching your breath as you hear the familiar ‘snap’ of the Ascians fingers, you open your eyes to find you both in bed.

“Didn’t take you for a cuddler.” you teased him as you felt his arms holding you from behind. “You’ll find I am full of surprises.” You can hear the smirk on his voice, you huffed before nudging closer to him and closing your eyes, sinking into sleep.

You wake up alone, a red box of chocolates placed on your nightstand addressed to “my good little hero”.

[the-silentium]

Siren Song

Masterlist - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Fors is an Original planet. I do not give permission to people to use it for their own fics, the planet, the animals, the Nightmares, the lore or anything related to Fors. Thank you.

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader

Words: 3025 words

Warnings: Blood, monsters, ANGST.

A/N:  Thanks to @shadow-hyder​ who helped choose who got hurt in this chap ~

Taglist:  @haloangel391​ / @lightning-wolffe​ / @cherrydemon5​ / @and-claudia​ / @clone-rambles​ / @mandaloriandin​

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"Wrecker. I knew you'd come to help me." 99 whispered through his comm.

Wrecker couldn't contain his excitement at his ori'vod calling out to him. He was alright, on this planet, away from the long-necks and their experiments, away from the dirty looks and degrading whispers, away from all the forced maintenance. He left the rainy planet like he always dreamt he would. 

For so long Wrecker ached for the reunion with his brother. He had so much to say to him, from his biggest explosion to date to his best prank on the regs with Crosshair and he couldn't forget to relate how he fought a giant snake that could have easily swallowed him whole in a single bite! 

He could already see 99 listening intently to each of his words, nodding and smiling as he would move his hands around to illustrate his words, because words weren't powerful enough to convey the power of the moment. 

Clone force 99 would be complete with its fifth member on board. All they needed to do was get him out of there with the rest of them. 

"That's not him! Guys!" 

For a split second, Wrecker had forgotten their newest teammate. Their cabur'ika. He was so wrapped up in helping his vod that he forgot everything else and let his body take control. His body knew what to do, fighting was in his blood. 

A new spark burned to life in his chest at the prospect of presenting you to his very wise sibling, maybe he could help you with your insecurities like he helped them all with theirs. 

"I know his voice Y/N! That's him!" He pushed forward, his team right behind him. 

You'd see soon, it was worth it. 99 was worth it. 

"Stay under the trees!"

He would have laughed at your words if he hadn't caught a glimpse of a man standing near a river. Trees were everywhere on this planet, you didn't have to worry. Instead, he forced his legs to move faster. 

A huff resonated through the comm just as 99 called again, the newfound fear in his voice made Wrecker's blood boil in worry and anger. 

He was almost there. He'd help. He'd save him. 

A nagging feeling plagued the back of his mind. It was just like when he forgot to close the light of the fresher one night and caused the ship to be inoperable for a couple of days or when he forgot Crosshair in a secluded village while on a supply run. He couldn't tell what was wrong, all he knew was that something wasn't as it was supposed to be. 

Wrecker got to the edge of the river, 99 just on the other side of the large angry stream. The ravine they had followed for a while was visible from his spot on the bank. It seemed they had moved a klick away from it and deeper into the jungle. The tall wall of rock and mud abruptly stopped and disappeared under a tumultuous waterfall that would be breathtaking in broad daylight. 

He doesn't see them, but Wrecker heard the soft steps of his brothers joining his sides. He didn't acknowledge their presence in the slightest, his eyes being glued to his elder kneeling on the ground clutching his chest, the grunts of pain leaving his mouth were too clear over the roaring water separating them. 

Without thinking he took a step forward, carefully setting foot in the deep river to reach the other side without getting carried away by the rapids. 

“Wrecker, what are you doing?” Hunter put a hand on his pauldron to keep him from going further into the water.

“He’s hurt!”

Without wasting a second, Wrecker harshly shrugged Hunter's hand away to venture into the raging water, fighting for his balance against the strong current pushing against his abdomen threatening to take him further through the jungle. Wrecker winced as static took over his comm, drowning the words of his team behind him. 

99's voice overflowed the nagging sound to encourage him forward, inciting him to grab the outstretched hand as soon as he was within reach. 

"Stay back." Wrecker ignored the help, he didn't want to pull his older brother into the river where he'd have no chance to survive. 

The ignored hand gripped his armpit in a useless effort to assist him, water dripped down his soaked blacks and armor, nurturing the grass below. 

"Are you okay 99?" Without wasting a second, Wrecker turned to his brother, already reaching for his frail shoulder. 

The sight squeezed his heart in nostalgia. There he stood, smiling just like the last time the Batcher saw him when they departed for their mission on Devaron. He even opened his arms like he always did whenever they’d all return from their assignments. This was him.

An urge to jump into the long-awaited embrace propelled his body forward to carefully wrap his strong arms around the fragile form of 99. Relief flooded his brain as soon as he felt arms wrapping around his own waist, numbing his senses to concentrate solely on this moment.

"Thank you for making all the way to me." He heard his voice in his comm, as clear as day, the background white noise abruptly muted as Wrecker's eyes widened in understanding. 

He managed to pull away slightly before the sight in front of him paralyzed his muscles. By fear, surprise or sadness, he couldn't decide which one had more control over his body. 

“Thank you for saving me Wrecker.” 99's lips stayed glued together despite the words echoing through the soldier's head. The once calming smile had lost all its warmth only to be replaced with a way more sinister grin. 

Half of 99- no, half of the monster disappeared under a layer of darkness slowly bleeding from its eyes, nose and mouth, the black goo covering its right side morphed into parts of someone else. Brown hair, a youthful smile, a broad muscular arm, they all appeared for a moment before the goo engulfed them again and changed over and over again, never truly setting on anything in particular. 

The shiver running up his spine brought the man to his senses long enough for his brain to order his body to move away from the threat. His chest separated from the smaller one as his feet stumbled backward. Unfortunately, his left hand didn't have such luxury. The liquid tightened around his fingers, crept over his palm to reach his forearm and slide under the sleeve of his blacks. 

He pulled and pulled again without any success. He was trapped. 

"So long…"

It was cold as death, enough to chill the giant to the bone. Bile raised in his throat as the sticky feeling crept up his skin. He tugged as hard as he could, but inches by inches the wicked sludge reached his elbow, gaining complete control over his arm. 

"It has been so long…" 

For some reason the tank of a man has never felt as small as in this instant, heterochromatic eyes staring up at him right in the eyes like his opaque visor wasn't even there. 

"We're so hungry." 

Before he could register the meaning behind his words, Wrecker went flying backward a few meters away from his initial standing spot, a heavyweight on his chest pinning him to the ground. 

Everything was happening too fast. Wrecker had some difficulties keeping up. That is until the unprotected skin of the underside of his upper arms burned worse than a blaster wound, his brain instantly knew what happened. 

With a yelp followed by a powerful kick, the clone tried to once again to dislodge the opponent clinging to him. His movements didn't send the gigantic thing rolling like he hoped, instead it merely shrieked in his face and flapped its cracked white wings to fly away, claws still locked around his arms. 

Fortunately for once, the beast doesn't get off the ground. Unfortunately, it meant that some parts of its prey had to go. 

Massive maws closed around his helmet, offering an absolutely atrocious view of the beast's mouth and throat. Wrecker would never admit it, but the sudden fear forced his eyes closed for a split second, protecting his fragile orbs by doing so.  Shards of his visor exploded under the assault of some particularly sharp teeth, scratching the sensitive skin around his eyes. 

This high level of panic was completely new for him and he didn't like it one bit. A nice adrenalin rush was one thing. This was far from the enjoyable spectrum. He wanted to yell for help, but who would hear his call? He was alone. 

The pressure around his head was increasing fast. Saliva covered his helmet, leaving Wrecker to blindly touch around his head for the maws, fingers slipping between the sparse teeth to force them open. The grip around his upper arms tightened, shooting a new wave of searing pain through his body as the claws dug deeper into his flesh. 

Ignoring his agonizing arms, he put more strength behind his movement and had the toothy vice open in a second. A well-placed kick on the bird sternum sent it flying backward, liberating his lacerated skin in the process. 

Hands cleaned his visor in a haste but stopped as soon as his fingertips started to tingle. The soft feeling soon morphed into full-on burning, prompting the soldier to wipe his hands onto the grass at his sides. 

Holes adorned the once intact tactical gloves, showing the damaged skin that it was supposed to protect. 

Before he could question the condition of his hands, a screech pulled him back to reality. 

The milky bird was big, easily four times his size with weird legs and two pairs of arms. The long white beak was pretty sharp with nasty teeth occasionally poking out, its maws opening frantically on a high pitch screech, its old-paper like wings flapping in anger at its side. 

Following the blue trail of bolts hitting the creature, the calls of his brother resonated through the comm without any interference as soon as his eyes landed on their offensive positions. 

His brothers. He remembered them now. He wasn't alone. They were here. 

"-ot responding." Tech 

"Wrecker! Come back here!" Wrecker winced at the very loud order coming from his sergeant. Apparently, it wasn't the first time he barked his instructions. 

"I'll get h-" Static filled his ears once again as 99 appeared at his side, hands wrapped around his pauldron.

"Don't leave me. Please Wrecker, help me.."  

"I'll hel-" His words were cut off by a sudden pull from behind, quickly followed by water engulfing his armor. 

Gasping, Wrecker tried to keep his head above water by instinct but failed miserably. The strong current left him totally helpless, the force of the water digging into his injuries to make him totally unable to move them around to get to the surface. Where was the surface? He turned on himself so much that nothing made sense anymore. 

A pull on his back stopped his body from turning in all directions, halting his quick descent down the river. Multiple hands pulled him out of the stream and wasted no time to pull him upright. 

"Wrecker can you hear me?" Hunter shook his shoulder forcefully. 

Too soon Wrecker tried to lift himself up using his arms to reassure his brother. All he managed to do was to almost faceplant into the wet dirt beneath his torso. 

"99." Was all he could say. He still felt a pull towards the other bank where he knew his oldest brother was still waiting for him. 

"There's nothing there. It's not real." Hands lifted him by the armpits to take him back under the cover of the trees. "It was a trick."

"No he's right there!" The clone was getting frustrated as everyone ignored his hand pointing behind them focussing instead on keeping him upright. 

A shriek pierced the night followed by a sudden splash of water, causing the three soldiers to jump simultaneously. Wrecker turned just in time to see the bird emerging from the river and fly away with something bright in its mouth.

Once the beast disappeared over the horizon, every memory repressed by the weird fog obscuring his brain came back to the front of his mind. Tears ran down his cheeks as he remembered that 99 died in a Seppie attack on Kamino, that he wasn't there to help. 

He had to bite his bottom lip to keep his whimpers from escaping, the pain of losing his brother a second time was way worse than it originally felt. Whatever it was back there felt so real, so warm, it told him exactly what he needed to hear and acted like the one and only 99. Deep down maybe he knew already but allowed himself to be blinded by hope. 

And hope crushed his heart in the more twisted way possible. 

Crosshair was the first to let go of his brother when they got deep enough into the line of trees, moving his attention to the grapple fixed under his rifle to put it away. So that's what pulled him into the river. 

"Are you okay Wrecker?" Hunter's worry pulled at his already suffering heart. 

"I am." He weakly mumbled, quieting down the hisses of pain menacing to erupt from his throat. 

"We don't have much time." Hunter carefully lowered himself to set his brother at the foot of a large tree. "We have to patch you up and search for Y/N before anything that might 've heard the noises comes this way." 

 Wrecker perked up at the mention of your disappearance, his eyes roamed the surroundings to get a glimpse of your shirt painted in blood and guts that always gave him a tiny heart attack every time he looked at it. He never thought not seeing that shirt would fill him with dread. 

"What happened?" He asked just as Tech removed his helmet to toss it at Crosshair for examination. 

The jungle looked way more terrifying without the night vision helping his sight. Without it, every shadow looked like an Algax silently staring with its inexistent orbs. 

"We don't know. We were too…" Tech trailed off, quickly assessing the wounds on his arms. "focussed to notice anything." 

Wrecker winced at the same time Crosshair did, although for a totally different reason. Tech stopped poking at the edges of the wounds to stuff some gauze pads on the bleeding lacerations before wrapping them with a sterile wrap. 

"Cross?" He asked his brother that stopped analyzing the helmet to lose himself in his thoughts, eyes fixed on one of the holes in the visor. 

He seemed taken aback for a moment but quickly recovered, rolling the customized helmet in his hands. 

"Night vision stopped working on one of the lenses. Too damaged. The front is melted at some places," He turned the helmet over to trace a long crack at the back of the head. "and it may not resist a hit to the right place." 

The frustration in his tone wasn't lost on anyone. Clearly, the helmet wasn't the subject of his irritation and no one had to ask for the truth. They were all prey of the same guilt. 

"I'm sorry. She told us not to follow voices." Wrecker averted his eyes, not able to look at his fuming brother anymore. Whatever happened to you was his fault. If only he hadn't followed the voices, you wouldn't be missing. 

Bile raised in his throat as his mind wandered on the dreaded questions. What happened? Were you in danger? Or hurt? Or dead? 

From his experience on this planet, Wrecker knew it was safe to assume that you crossed paths with a monster of the night. This was a certainty. All there was to speculate on was your wellbeing. 

"Her tracker is still working, we'll find her." Tech applied a small bacta patch that he pulled out of his belt onto the palm of Wrecker's hand, the latter hissing in pain. 

"You're lucky the water washed off any remaining chemical that burned your skin or else we'd see some bones if the state of your helmet is anything to go by." He admired the edges of the burns that weren't covered by the patch. "I'll wrap your fingers together to keep them from moving on each other so refrain from closing your hand. You'll only damage it more."

"But I won't be able to shoot!" He frowned, teeth clashing together as Tech put some gauze between his fingers and wrapped the bandages tightly together. 

"Blasters don't work anyway." Hunter grumbled as he turned back to them, letting go of the hair at the back of his neck to face his team. 

"But light does." The engineer got on his feet to help Wrecker, offering his forearm to pull him up.

"Light?" 

"I threw an emergency light stick at it." 

"How did you know it would chase it?" Wrecker pulled on his helmet that Crosshair held out to him. 

Having only one night vision lens would make it difficult for him to continue, hopefully, it wouldn't slow him down too much or cause him to miss some monster out there. He couldn't be more of a burden than he already was at the moment. 

"I didn't. It was merely a theory." He typed away at his vambrace, missing Wrecker's bewildered expression. "And I was only partially correct. They indeed are reactive to light, but they do not fear it as I initially thought. Turns out that light enrages them. It gave up on you in order to eat the stick." He explained in his signature matter of fact tone.

Before anyone could add to the previous conclusion, Tech continued. 

"I got her position. She's close” The corners of Wrecker’s lips lifted slightly. They could track you, everything would be fine from here. You weren’t lost. “and unmoving." The whispered last words rang loud and clear in all the clones' ears.

Wrecker's breath wasn't the only one to abruptly stop.

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Why do you think Tomarry would work? I see a lot of people hating on it and the only response I ever see is that they come from similar backgrounds or people just like enemies to lovers. Also which horcrux do you think Harry would go best with (including Voldemort)

So, this is probably a more complicated question than you intended, but that’s because I live in bizarre head canon lands that few ever dare venture towards.

With that, let’s get started.

But What Do You Really Ship, Muffin?

First, it probably bears saying that I’m not really a Tomarry shipper. I know, I’ve written more than one Tomarry story, so if that’s not Tomarry what is? Well, remember that those Tomarry pairing tags are a filthy lie. October I committed the grievous sin of breaking up the Tomarry and throwing Tom at Harry’s mother. Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus is barely a Harry Potter fic in any capacity, and while the ship is the driving force of the fic, it’s also this nebulous, distant, thing that really shows up only in strange side stories where I try to make people laugh. When Harry Met Tom is probably the closest that I take seriously, but I also intentionally subvert all your typical Tomarry tropes for my own enjoyment. 

The only Tomarry story I’d say I’ve ever actually written is “The Burning Taste of Fire Whisky”. It’s a very popular story, sadly perhaps my most popular on Ao3, but I actually loathe it entirely. 

A lot of the time I feel like I just happen to have a Tomarry shirt on and then I suddenly became a subject matter expert. If you want the Tomarry opinions from real Tomarry people, I’m probably not the best person to ask. In fact, if you want really any standard answer about Harry Potter anything, I’m not the best person to ask.

Now, I’m not just saying this to be a hipster but to sort of give some background for why I’m going to give the answer I’m going to give and why it’s going to be 100% different from everyone else’s and yes, sometimes, I do think I came from Mars.

Will the Real Tomarry Please Stand Up?

So with that, the bottom line is: taking canon as JKR intended, completely at face value, Tomarry doesn’t work at all. This is because JKR fully intends a very flat, one-dimensional, and frankly quite boring Tom Riddle. Tom Riddle’s evil, Tom Riddle was born evil, Tom Riddle was evil in the womb because of rape. He is completely and utterly irredeemable and understands nothing of love.

Well, that sort of sinks the ship right out of the harbor, doesn’t it? A Tom Riddle incapable of love is one incapable of growth, especially in a romantic focused story. If you try to write it you just get weird sociopathic whump porn where Tom probably whips Harry in a closet somewhere.

Added onto this we get that, despite what she put down on paper, Harry is supposed to be a straight man. That aside, he’s also a righteous man whose understanding of things like love and friendship mean he’d never sully himself with gross Tom Riddle. Ew, what are you people thinking?

Well, what if we take canon just mostly as JKR intended? What if we just look at the characters the way she actually wrote them versus what she was trying to do? Still no dice.

Tom might now be capable of love, be a far more engaging character who can go somewhere, and be pulled out of a pit of rage and despair by someone but that someone ain’t Harry.

First, while I firmly believe Harry is gay (gay, not bisexual, compare his descriptions of Cho/Ginny to Tom Riddle/Sirius Balck/Cedric Diggory/Charlie Weasley, that boy pants after Tom Riddle and Cho’s kiss is “wet”) he’s also a much worse person and much dumber character than JKR intended. It’s really the first that damns the pairing.

I have a whole giant post on how Harry’s a little yikes but the long and short of it is that while Harry thinks he understands friendship and love he’s also someone who will cut out his friends at a moment’s notice if he feels remotely slighted, uses and sacrifices them for his own ends, gleefully uses unforgiveable curses when given the opportunity, and is the kind of guy who would cut someone up in the bathroom, leave them to bleed to death, and only really feel bad about it when it seems he might get in trouble for it.

This Harry ending up even with a Tom who could potentially be redeemed would more likely lead to, well, weird psychopathic whump porn where Harry tortures Tom in his basement to make him pay for all the horrible things he’s done while Harry claims he’s the most moral person ever because his mother loved him.

So, yeah, no Tomarry for you.

But Wait, Didn’t You Say You Believed in Tomarry?

What I believe in are archetypes.

Remove what Harry’s supposed to be, remove what I think he actually is (one maladjusted, violent, dude with a whole lot of anger issues), let’s make Harry what perhaps JKR didn’t even know she wanted: one of those rare fundamentally good heroes who warps an entire story with the strength of their inner nobility.

Harry Potter is meant to be a story about love and friendship. Now, it’s not actually, and we sort of end with Harry being Jesus and none of us are sure why. Except that he apparently forgives Dumbledore and Snape for brainwashing him to be a kamikaze agent. They’re the bravest men he knows. But let’s pretend it actually is a story about love and friendship.

To me, the strongest story of love we could possibly have had in this world is the redemption of Tom Riddle. Here is a man who was supposed to have been irredeemable since birth, he has done many horrific and unforgiveable things, grew up in extreme hardship in a society that spits on everything he ever was, and is mired in bitterness, despair, and rage. Beneath all that, Tom Riddle has given up hope in the world and is now content to burn it down himself.

Harry, through the nobility of his spirit and integrity of his character, somehow managing to redeem Tom Riddle is not only a fascinating story but a very good one at its core. The fact that they are tied together by destiny as well as tragedy, that Harry houses a shard of Tom’s soul (and I do so love horcruxes), only makes it more so.

This is the kind of story that carries epics, and that is why I gravitate towards it.

Now, do I change Harry up to do so? Good god, yes. I wouldn’t say any Harry Potter I have written is anything close to the Harry we know from canon. Some are closer than others, but they always in some way deviate. That said, from what I’ve seen almost nobody writes the actual Harry we remember from canon, so this is a very standard practice I can get away with, without too many people calling foul.

Ultimately ending in tragedy or in the full redemption of Tom: either works with these base characterizations and the world is your oyster.

What About All Those Other Arguments?

I’m not going to get into this too much except that I wouldn’t argue Tomarry works for the reasons you list. At all.

On the similar backgrounds, the fact is Harry and Tom don’t have similar backgrounds, JKR just says they do because she likes that trope (and so do many of the readers).

Harry and Tom have dark hair, they both came from abusive homes, but that’s where the similarities start and end. Upon entering the wizarding world Harry is treated very very very differently from Tom Riddle.

Harry, grows up in this weird sort of pseudo poverty where he dresses in rags because the Dursley’s hate him but he never actually has to worry about money. When he gets to the wizarding world he can afford everything he wants. He can buy a new wand, he can buy new supplies, he can buy all the candy off the trolly cart. Money’s not an object to Harry, is barely even a concept.

Tom Riddle is presumably on scholarship and money is everything to him. He buys a new wand but likely all his clothes and books are second hand. He can’t buy whatever candy he wants, probably can’t afford gifts for his peers, Tom is very aware of the haves and have nots.

Harry similarly never has to worry about a career. He never gets that far, fearing for his life so much, but the fact is that Harry has enough money that he doesn’t actually need to work. More, who would turn down the great Harry Potter? He wants to be an auror, is afraid he might not qualify, but it’s not really desperate.

Tom Riddle is to the world an impoverished muggle born. He tries for the Defense position and is turned down mostly because Dumbledore threw shade. Dumbledore tries to make it seem like Tom desperately wanted to work in this weird shop in London’s magical back alley, but probably that was the only position Tom could get (everything Dumbledore ever says, especially in those pensieve lessons, must be taken with a large grain of salt). Everything else goes to friends, family, and purebloods.

Adding to this, Harry has this glowing reputation. Now, Harry might not like it, he might want to be just Harry but the fact is that everyone has heard of him and most people worship the ground he walks on. Doors are open to him everywhere. His first introduction to the wizarding world is from a man who loves him and gushes about Harry as a baby.

Tom Riddle is someone with a muggle last name, who comes from a muggle orphanage, in other words he is nobody from nowhere. (For reasons I won’t get into here I find it very doubtful Tom ever revealed he was the heir of Slytherin until he became Voldemort and let Tom Riddle fade into obscurity). His first introduction to the wizarding world is some asshole lighting all his stuff on fire because the matron talked shit about him.

Harry wants to stay at Hogwarts because the Dursleys are abusive. Yes, this is terrible, but Tom wants to stay because Nazis are bombing London and Dippet says, “So sorry, Tom, no exceptions. Enjoy those luffas!” Harry’s concerns are never treated with the same disdain.

To make a long story short, they do not have similar backgrounds, at all. To say they do is utterly laughable and not much better than saying “they both have dark hair, they have so much in common!”

They both came from abusive homes, yes, but even the nature of those homes were very different and when they went to Hogwarts they were worlds apart.

... So much for not getting into it, eh?

As for Enemies to Lovers, well, it’s a trope and people enjoy it but it’s not my jam. I could go into why, but I think I’ve said enough.

Which Horcrux Do You Think Harry Would Go Best With?

We see so little of the individual horcruxes I’m not sure I can really take a stab at this. I sort of just make up their personalities as it suits me every time I write them.

With that I suppose I’m partial to the one in Harry’s head? Given that he has a front row seat to Harry, has seen Voldemort’s tragic demise, I think he’s in the best position to end up with Harry in a meaningful manner.

Especially as, if you think about it, he could represent the very last of Tom Riddle’s humanity. The single shard of humanity that remained in him until the bitter end.

[blu-archer]

Mr. Park’s return

So, I’m not sure what to make of this really... like it’s not really a sickfic thing - I don’t know.. it might be, I’ll just say it classifies, it’s more of like a little continuation bit in this series and because I felt like writing about it... I’ve had this sitting with me for a while, so I may as well post it.. it felt a bit everywhere, there’s some knew characters I just tossed in because I needed too and we’ll just see where that leads, yeah? 

[there is probably grammatical errors, my first language is English I just can’t proof read - its a rough life] anyway, I hope this is somewhat enjoyable, its kind of a mess

This is supposed to be just a small filler type thing I guess

Snz based but like its rather mild.

‘Sickie’ : Jimin / [Felix? its faint really]/ [Yoongi is mentioned, but yeah]

 Hybrid AU

 Part 1,  Part 2 , Part 3

Word count: 5376

I tossed some Stray Kids in here because I love them too. 

“Good morning everyone.” Jimin smiled at the class of juniors settling in their seats as warmly as he could considering that he was still trying to recover from days of fever. He still felt tired and a weak, with some lingering symptoms, but he was tired staying at home doing nothing.  He needed to work again, get back into a routine so that he wasn’t lazing around all the time. So, he had suited up in warm clothes and more makeup than usual to hide the dark rings that had still not left him.

The class stared at him with a mix of confusion and curiosity before greeting him with about the same enthusiasm he had done to them. He supposed that was fair, it wasn’t like they knew who he was really.

He cleared his throat, dropping the exam booklets onto the desk set up in the front of the room, before continuing on with as much forced giddiness as he could manage. No one wanted to head into an exam with a dark unwelcoming mood, so if he could brighten it by even an inch then he would be happy.

 “I’m Mr. Park, I’ll be your teacher for this exam.” As if to serve as a reminder, something caught in his throat and he smothered a small bout of coughs into his arm. “Please excuse my voice, I’ve been a little under the weather.”

It didn’t take long before a few voices rose up, which was not surprising considering majority of the class had probably never seen him before. it had become blatantly obvious that most of the students had wanted to spend much more attention on their paper. He didn’t blame them, anyone would want to be distracted from exams and he usually wouldn’t mind, he loved to gossip and get to know the students and they always seemed to be as interested in him as he was in what they were like, but even with the amount of lozenges he’d sucked on that morning already, his voice was definitely going to give out if he spoke for long.

 “What do you teach Sir?”

“You look so young.”

“Mr. Park! What are you doing here?”

“Are you new?”

“What type of Hybrid are you?”

 Jimin looked to students who had spoken up. Most dressed or styled slightly different from the standard uniform, clearly these were the usual extrovert favourites. He tried to ignore the more intrusive questions and focus more on the ones of innocent curiosity. A wide grin split across his face and his sight narrowed as he recognised one girl that he taught in modern contemporary. Jimin pressed his square framed glasses further up his nose, his tail flicking as the girl waved her arm wildly from the back of the class.

 “Sana? Oh, it’s weird seeing you out of class.” Jimin chuckled lightly, giving a small wave in return. “Most of you probably won’t know me, but I’ve been a part of the dance faculty for I think about three years now. I usually only interacted in the other art departments during these times, but this year the school thought it would be better to shift things around a bit. I think I only know Sana… oh wait, Soobin’s here too. Wow, it feels like forever since I’ve seen you two…” His chest warmed with the pleasure of seeing at least some of his kids.

 “Sir, what are you doing back?” Soobin grinned and leant forward from when he sat on top of his friends desk. “Mr. Jung said that you probably wouldn’t be back for at least another week.”

 “Not quite.” Jimin corrected, moving closer to his student. “It’s just not as heavy a work-load as usual. Are you ready for your exams? And you Sana? I feel so bad for not being there in your final sessions.”

 “I think we’re both glad that you rested rather than pushed to be there with us.” Sana grinned, packing away her English textbooks. “I haven’t done mine yet but Soobin had his exam yesterday.”

Jimin’s eyes shot to the boy who merely shrugged, although the bright flash in the fae boys eyes led Jimin to believe he did better than he wanted to portray. Which was good. Great, actually. His students were amazing.

 “Ahhh… why do I get the feeling that none of you did any real dancing while I was away… Anyway, don’t stress over it. Deep breathes and smooth lines. It’s nothing you haven’t done before.” Jimin countered to Sana before stepping back to address the class once again, coughing into his arm again – slightly harsher this time. He answered and entertained a few more questions from the students that he didn’t know before finally calling it. “Okay, we should probably start soon. May everyone please start packing away any studying material. And is everyone present for this exam?”

 “Mr. Park, Sir.” A trio of girls, each with unique traits that led him to believe they were all either warlocks or fae, waved to him from the side of the class closest to the wall of windows.

 “Yes?”

 “So, you’re a dancer, Mr. Park? Can you show us something?” The one with golden eyes smirked and Jimin’s chest tightened, knowing that her suggestive tone wasn’t one of humour or general curiosity. Kids. They were kids.

 “I am, but we have more important things.” He chose to ignore the low whining that erupted from them. “Clear your desks please, you don’t seem to be going over notes anyway. I am assuming that everyone is here, which means we are going to begin.”

   He returned to the desk without glancing at the girls again. The session had officially started.

Once desks were clear he began to hand out transcripts, only letting them turn through the pages once each student had one. It was a bit of a struggle, with how hoarse his voice was quickly becoming – given that he hadn’t needed to use it as much in the past few days as he was now, but he managed to read through the paper with them to make sure there were no immediate errors then set them forth on the 3-hour paper. Even though it made him drowsy he snuck a few pills in after he stifled a sneeze into his wrist. He wanted to try keep any and all symptoms to a minimum as to not distract anyone, but it was difficult when the class only had the scribbling sound of pens on paper to fill it with noise.

He sipped the tea from his flask that he was certain Yoongi had spiked with some type of herbal energy booster before Jimin had left that morning. The hybrid couldn’t help the wholesome warmth that ran through him at the thought of the worrisome warlock. Despite Yoongi being powerful and often intimidating to those who didn’t know him, Jimin knew that the elder was in-fact a big softy that was usually too shy to address things that  stressed him out. Especially if it was about the people he cared for. Instead he was prone to small actions that he thought would help lift any burdens or stressors, for both him and whoever he helped – in this case, Jimin. Yoongi hadn’t even wanted him to start at the school again yet, even for short hours, but after the hybrid had spoken some sense into him – that it was Jimin’s job and everyone, including Yoongi himself, had  worked while sick at some point – Yoongi eventually caved.

Although that didn’t stop him from being a bit clingier than usual, and definitely didn’t stop him from wrapping Jimin entirely in the Warlocks clothes so that his scent was with him all day. Not that Jimin minded being completed drenched in the elders scent and the clothes that were just a bit too big for him always made him feel warm and comforted. The last week that Jimin had spent at home with his boyfriend had been amazing, even if he had been a miserable mess for most of it.

Jimin had just finished firing off emails to the other dance staff members about how everything was going with the dance exams and if there are still students looking for last minute help when he felt the sad realisation that his med’s had been easing off. He hadn’t brought enough for a second dose and he could already feel his nose starting to run. The exam was almost over, just another hour or so and then he was free to be a mess again. But that wasn’t what his body had in mind.

He’inxshew… hih..Hieshxngt hXNGst..

 Damn it.

Jimin sniffed and wiped at his nose with a tissue. Thankfully he had thought to bring quite a few of the tissue travel packs with him, Yoongi had tried to slip an entire box of Kleenex into Jimin’s bag but the hybrid found that to be a bit excessive. His tail curled around his waist as he felt the gazes of a few of the students that were already finished or were checking through their work, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He sniffed repeatedly, trying to be as soft and quiet as possible but it only seemed to make matters worse as he snapped forward with another sneeze that he caught by pinching at his nose. Stifling was a bit painful, especially with how congested he had been, but he would bear with it.

He stifled four more before he had to come to terms with the fact that he could not try to sniffle to keep it at bay anymore. So he claimed fresh tissues to blow his nose, wincing and sending apologetic eyes to the students at the wet gurgling sound that filled the room. Jimin’s face was heated and he swallowed hard trying to work past his embarrassment. The students probably didn’t even care that much. But he still felt like the floor should open to let him fall through it.

He perked as a hand shot up, the student mouthing for more paper. Jimin threw away his tissues, doing his best to ignore how gross he was momentarily felt, and after a quick squirt his trusty hand sanitiser that Jin made him carry,  he was up and handing out pages. Taking that moment of already being up to slowly walk around and check if anyone else needing anything from him. He tried not to linger too much when he noticed Soobin gnawing at his bottom lip. A quick glance and Jimin could tell that the boy was struggling with understanding some of the things being asked of him and he didn’t want to add any extra pressure of being hovered over. Clearly the boy was unfortunately – in this case - closer inclined to the creative arts than he was to general studies.

 “Si-Sir?”

 Jimin followed the soft whisper to a thin, pale dog hybrid who looked anxious just to have to look Jimin in the eye. Jimin cleared his throat to try get rid of the insistent itch that seemed to plague him and leant down so that the boy wouldn’t have to look up at him when he spoke. It wasn’t often that someone reacted intimidated by Jimin, so he was left a bit unsure. The few handfuls of times that he could remember being anything close to scary were strictly associated with his dancers or the few times he got into arguments with his friends, but usually everyone saw him as a soft and gentle hybrid that they could either try to walk all over or have pleasant easy conversations with. No real threat.

Jimin rested his hand on the edge of the desk to steady himself, then silently inclined his head to indicate that the boy could continue.

 “I-I don’t feel.. feel well.”

 Jimin gently rested a hand on the boys back only to frown at how sharp the hybrid’s bones were beneath his clothing. “What do you mean? Are you stressed? Sick? Do you feel nauseous?”

The boy merely nodded and swallowed loudly, sinking further away from Jimin.

 “Do you want to go to the nurse?” he asked softly. Looking more closely at the boys’ face, his oddly sharp facial structure and sunken cheeks. He had originally seen the bruises under the boys eyes as a part of the exam season stress but maybe there was something else happening.. When he got the nod of approval Jimin set his hand on the boys exam paper. “Do you want to keep this for now, or should I take it?”

 “Take it.”  

 Okay then. Jimin stood up, slipping the exam paper from the students desk, and bringing it back to his station, making note of the foreign name, ‘Felix’, filled in at the top right corner. Then he moved to the intercom attached to the wall behind his desk chair and held the button that connected him to the head office. “Hi, could we please have someone come to room 48? I need a student to be taken to the nurses office.”

A garbled reply came back at him that he could only hope meant that someone would be sent soon. In the meantime, Jimin dug in his bag until he retrieved a sealed bottle of water. It wasn’t as cold as it had been when he had bought it, but it would do. He returned to the boy who had now buried his face into his hands, taking deep shaky breaths.

 “Felix… can you try taking some small sips of water for me?” Jimin knelt beside the desk once more, twisting off the cap of the bottle. “Just a few? When last did you eat or drink something?”

He didn’t get much of a response other than the hybrid lifting his head enough to look at the open water before shakily taking it from Jimin. He took the smallest of sips before just sitting there with his eyes tightly shut.

 “Okay.” Jimin rubbed Felix’s back and stood up again, coughing into his arm before letting out a restrained groan. “Everyone, you have 40 minutes left. If you’re finishing off or just sitting there, then go through your answers again and make sure you’ve read the questions carefully.”  

 It was almost ten minutes before Jimin heard a soft knock on the door.

Felix had been sitting with his hands pressed tightly against his eyes, leaning heavily on his elbows while taking stuttering breaths. Jimin had been hovering with concern, but there wasn’t anything he could really do to help. The dog hybrid pretty much shunned him every time he murmured a gentle question or soothing words.

Jimin left his spot next to the sick boy, giving a quick glance over the class to find that at least a third of them were watching him and not going over their work like he’d encouraged, but he called out a brief ‘half an hour left’ and moved to open the door.

 “Jimin?”

 “Jin.” Jimin let out a heavy breath, running a finger under his nose before leaning closer to the concerned elder. Silently thanking that their office employees had thought to call the school nurse directly and not some random other teacher to walk the boy to a better environment. “Hi, I’m not sure how sick this boy is, but he has a fever and I think he might be nauseous. He couldn’t tell me if it was from anxiety or something else so… He didn’t seem too keen on talking to me at all actually. I just gave him water.”

Jin nodded, wiping his hands on his jeans before stepping forward to move into the class. For a moment he looked like he wanted to question Jimin on something else but thought better of it.

 “Where are they?”

Jimin pointed him out and then stood back, trying his best to watch over the rest of the class and not interfere with Jin as he prompted a few words out of Felix – mostly about what he felt like and whether he was okay to walk - before helping him stand. The witch had to wrap an arm around the boys waist to kept him steady and they were forced to move at a slow pace, but Jin just murmured soft barely audible words of encouragement until they’d reached the door. Jimin lay a steadying hand on Jin’s arm before biting at his lip.

 “Do you need help getting back? I can ask the office to send another person..”

 “We’re fine Jimin.” Jin reassures, his hand rubbing gently at Felix’s side. “I know him, I’d rather just move slowly and not stress him out too much. You can come by in a bit if you’re worried, but I’ve got it.”

 Jimin let them go, closing the door softly behind them trying to ignore the tears that had sprung to Felix’s eyes as soon as the pair had left the room. Distracted, he gave a final slow walk through the rows of students. Most of them were finished now, some had lain down over their desks while others fiddled with their stationery. He gave a pleased nod to see that at least two students where carefully reading through their work and added to certain places, and then he passed Soobin. The boy had completely drawn over the back of his exam paper with dark detailed sketches that  couldn’t have been done quickly. Jimin winced at the thought of how the boys answers must look, and took it has a hint to sit the rest of the time at his desk where he sipped at the final bit of his now lukewarm tea.

He sent a few carefree texts to Yoongi, who had been complaining bitterly about having to stay at home for the day. Apparently he had tried to talk Namjoon into letting him work but the clumsy witch had threatened to jinx the elder if Yoongi came in to work. Jimin smiled at his boyfriend’s irritated messages, knowing that the warlock was probably still in bed despite him having his studio there if he really wanted to work.

He still felt a bit bad about getting Yoongi sick, but the warlock had thankfully always been a quick healer, so hopefully if he rested for a day or two then he would be fine. Jimin sent a final ‘see you in a bit! Love you!’ before he readied up the exam folder to retrieve the papers.

 He coughed once into his fist, pushing up his glasses instinctively afterwards, then gave a soft smile. “Okay guys, if anyone is still writing I’m going to need you to stop.”

*

   “Jin? You in here?” Jimin peeked into the small nurses office only to find it empty, ignoring how his voice had cracked. The desk had been pushed neatly to the side and had an open medical bag with some scattered medications on it but other than that and the locker off to the side that held Jin’s personal things, the room was impeccably clean. Although that shouldn’t surprise him, it was a nurses office. “Soekjin?”

 He heard a soft reply and then Jin appeared, ducking through the white curtain that basically blended into the wall. The sectioned off area for those that needed a bed to lay down in, if Jimin remembered correctly.

  “Yeah, hey.” Jin smiled and tugged at the collar of his shirt before collapsing into his chair with a sigh. “Sorry, I’ve been running everywhere.”

 “Mr. Popularity.” Jimin teased and entered properly into the room to lean against the second chair across from his friend. He flipped a small backpack up and dropped it onto the empty seat. “Felix left this. I didn’t want to leave it there in case there was something important inside. He can just fetch it from here whenever he’s back at school.”

 “He hasn’t left yet.” Jin let out a breath much heavier than before. His expression darker than what Jimin was used to seeing on him. “He stays in a foster home with a whole bunch of other kids, his guardians are always a bit preoccupied with the younger children. I think they like to think that the older kids can fend for themselves a lot better than what they actually can, but yeah. They were called, but his foster brother will probably be the one to fetch him after his classes for uni end.”

 Jimin frowned deeply. His chest ached in sympathy for the timid hybrid that had seemed close to passing out earlier. “Is he… okay?”

 “Mostly.” Jin shrugged, glancing back to the curtained area he had come through. “He threw up a few times and put up more of a fight than I thought possible when I tried to get him to drink a potion. I had to resort to just standard medicine, but it won’t be as effective.  Seems like a flu.”

 “I felt awful that I couldn’t really help earlier.” Jimin admitted with a small sniff, rubbing at the tip of his nose swiftly. “He seemed scared to tell me anything, but I don’t know… maybe he just really wasn’t feeling well.”

 Jin shook his head. “This isn’t his first foster home, he got moved around a lot. From his file and the times he’s spoken to me, he has a bit of a rocky history with cat hybrids – of course his experiences kind of dealt more with predatory breeds but I suppose he just kind of categorised.”

 Now Jimin felt worse. He bit at his lip and locked his eyes onto the curtain as if he would be able to see the boy through the material. Was he asleep, or was he listening? Jimin’s throat tightened at the thought of having scared the dog hybrid. He didn’t really like causing someone else unnecessary stress, especially if there was a history of something … what, abusive? Maybe?

 “I didn’t realise… Why was he sent to school if he wasn’t feeling well?”

 “Beats me. Probably didn’t say anything, he’s only really comfortable with a few people and I don’t think he expects to rely on his foster parents.” Jin says quietly. “He’s a good kid, though. Very funny and loud when he wants to be. He just needs to open up to others a bit more, stop feeling like a burden and maybe participate a bit more.”

 Jimin nodded, twisting at one of his rings. “It’s hard sometimes, I get that. If he ever wants to he’s more than welcome to come by the dance studio’s. We sometimes hold after school classes for those that are curious or need extra practices. It might be a bit late to switch to it as a subject, but I’m willing to teach him a few things when he’s feeling better, maybe it will help in terms of meeting new people. Or I can ask Hobi if he can teach him a few things if he’ll feel more comfortable with a human teacher.”    

 “I’ll let him know.” Jin let out a huff of a laugh. “How are you? Feeling better about being back?”

 Jimin grinned widely, leaning heavily onto the chair. “Loads better, Yoongi helped me a lot. I’m still a bit stuffy –“

 “And your voice is super hoarse.” Jin said, then smiled teasingly as Jimin whined, his ears drooping a little.

 “Yeah, I know… But I really do feel better. I’m tired now but I’m happy to be back at work, I missed my kids. I got see two of my students during the exam, although I don’t think I have a lot of faith in the ones English skills. … its fine though.” Jimin straightened up and gave a dramatic wave of his hands. “He won’t need good marks in standard school, he’ll go far in dancing.”

 Jin pulled a face at Jimin’s words causing the younger to let out a small giggle.

“Maybe not fail the standard schooling, but you get what I mean. He’s going places whether he gets those marks or not.”

 “Sure, Minnie. Just don’t tell him that he doesn’t need to get good marks in other things.” Jin advised teasingly. “That’s not the best way to educate the next generation.”

 A gentle knock on the office door had Jimin jumping in fright, his ears drawn back, and fur raised, only to see two boys hovering outside. He vaguely recognised one from seeing him in hallways but the shorter one was unfamiliar, they both had soft fae-like features and wide innocent eyes. The taller was still dressed in the academies uniform while the other was dressed entirely in baggy black clothes that reminded Jimin of Yoongi. Although he doubted Yoongi would willingly get a lip and eyebrow piercing… maybe Jimin could talk him into it…

 “Hey, Chan. You got here fairly quickly.” Jin rose from his seat. “ I think he’s asleep right now, but I’ll wake him up and give him a final look over.”

 “Thank you so much Mr. Kim.” The dark one said, smiling brightly at Jin before nodding a greeting at Jimin.

He gave a soft ‘Hi’ before he pulled the light backpack off of the seat and handed it to the one Jin had addressed. “Here’s his bag.”

 “Thank you.” Chan accepted it quickly and gratefully.

 “Aren’t you one of the dance teachers? On the other side of the school?” The student, who looked about the same age as Felix despite being taller than both Chan and Jimin. “I saw you in that theatre performance thing like three months ago… right?”

 Jimin nodded, assuming that the boy was talking about the fundraiser that the school did that was mostly a time for the students to see the staff make fools of themselves doing dances or skits – or in his and the rest of the performance arts staffs’ case, their talent and skills being flaunted in their natural habitats.

 “Yep, I’m a modern – contemporary instructor, but I help out in the hip hop sector when I’m needed.”

 The boys face lit up at knowing he was right. “You’re dancing is so cool. You were so graceful on stage, it looked really beautiful.”

Jimin smiled and felt his cheek warm. Jin had disappeared behind the curtain and Chan was watching Jimin with a small smile.

 “I remember now. I went and watched with him and some of our other brothers.” Chan added. “He kind of became obsessed with dance after that.”

 His cheeks burned and he let out a soft nervous cough into his fist. “That’s kind, thank you. Are you… all in the same Foster family as Felix?”

 Chan nodded before adding. “I don’t live there anymore, but I still spend time with some of them there, kind of become like real brothers, you know?”

 Jimin nodded, stilling feeling a bit off about thinking of them in a foster home. “Well I was just telling Jin that he was welcome to come by the studios if he ever felt interested in dance. As a way to open up a bit. I’m not sure if Felix would join if I taught him, but you’re welcome to join myself or Mr. Jung as well if you want – um..”

 “Hyunjin.” The boy said eagerly. “That’s so cool. I really want to, I wanted to take classes, but our guardians couldn’t pay for the extra fee.”

 Jimin bit back his grimace. It was unfortunate that students had to pay an extra amount for specialised classes but there wasn’t much he could do besides over informal schooling.

 “Well, we can organise once or twice a week to help you guys out. You actually look like the right build for a dancer, probably wont struggle too much…”

 Jin reappeared with the small dog hybrid following close behind, looking a bit steadier on his feet than before but still nowhere near healthy enough to be at school. Felix hesitated at the sight of him but didn’t stop for long before he move to sink into Chan’s arms. Jin spoke about some of the hybrids symptoms and what he’d need to take as well as giving a few things to watch out for and what to do if it got worse just in case their guardians got busy. Jimin moved back, letting the two boys move closer to their brother in the office. It was cute to see the three of them together, so different and yet there was a clear sense of family. Jimin sniffed only to regret it as a sharp piercing lemon scent that was no doubt coming from Felix flooded his senses. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t smelt it earlier, perhaps it was because Felix was feeling safe – in any case, Jimin blinked hard. He pressed a finger secretly to his nose, but it only seemed to aggravate the itch. Damn it, he had really hoped that he had finished with this earlier – he had blown his nose enough times after leaving the class, but apparently not.

‘He’ingxt’ah.. h’ingxsh..hih..hih’IGTSHiew…’ He cringed as he felt eyes land on him but couldn’t do anything else but keep his hand covering his face. ‘hih’itchshew… h’IShiew..’

 “Bless you, Jimin.”

 Jimin groaned and pulled a face, giving a soft and somewhat nervous sniffle. It seemed to be the end of it thankfully. Everyone was looking at him, but thankfully they didn’t seem to really care. “Thanks…”

 “Thought you were better, hmm?”

 “Jin,” Jimin pursed his lips and resisted the urge flick him. “Shut up. I’m fine now, just... lingering stuff.”

Jin hummed but Jimin knew he was only trying to be annoying.

 “okay well, I’ll head out then.” Jimin clapped his hands together awkwardly, no longer wanting to stay in the room in case he was going to start being sensitive to any more scents.

 “Tell Yoongi to feel better for me, Min.” Jin said as he wrote down the names of specific medications that would be the most long lasting for a hybrid.

Remembering the adorable sight he had left his boyfriend in that morning, Jimin spun around with a cheery gasp and wide glimmering eyes that had Jin laughing loudly, the other three in the room just blinking with bemusement at the suddenly change.

 “Get home Jimin! That wasn’t an invitation to start blabbering about your boyfriend. Actually, I’m very annoyed at you – It’s your fault that I didn’t get my extra Namjoon-day yesterday. I was devastated! Devastated Jimin!” Jin scolded him without even trying to suppress his smile.

 “You can sleep with your husband whenever you want Jin. No one is stopping you.” A pen smacked into his chest and Jimin bubbled with laughter as he danced out of range of the book that had come flying soon after the first projectile. “Don’t throw things at me!”

 “Yah! Don’t say inappropriate things in front of students, you bratty cat!”

 “They know what sex is!” Jimin argued playfully, coughing lightly as he caught the next book that came flying at his face. “So sensitive. Has it been that long?”

 “I should have never befriended you. I have to rethink my life choices.” Jin shook his head as he sent Felix an exasperated look. The dog hybrid was watching the interaction with wide, watery eyes.

 “Bye, Soekjin.” Jimin laughed, handing the book he had caught to Hyunjin. “I’ll let Yoongi know you care. If you want… I can ask him to make up something special to help-“

“GO HOME, BRAT!”

 Jimin pranced away, hearing the soft curses that Jin threw after him. Home. Despite how mixed his feelings were after finding out about Felix’s family life, he couldn’t help but be filled with a flood of warmth at the thought of his boyfriend waiting for him. Most likely still cuddled up into the warm nest Jimin had rearranged for him, unless the elder had decided to use energy to make food or something, but that seemed particularly doubtful after he had messaged Jimin about how lucid he felt and about the mountain of tissues creating a new city on the floor of their bedroom.

It was endearing… possibly contagious to anyone else that stepped fought into their house but somehow, very endearing.

[supernovafeather]

Influence (Duke Leto Atreides x Reader) Sex Pollen fic

 Hi !

So here’s my first ever sex pollen fic ! The longest fic I ever posted as ell.

Warnings :

So as there is sex pollen, of course : Dubcon. Smut. Blood. Mentions of injuries. Hallucinations. Leto swears a lot. Dom/Sub. Bondage.

Don’t hesitate to reblog/like/comment, it’s always a pleasure to know what you think of my work ! :)

This fic is +18 so if you’re younger get out, this account is not for you !

Words : 6247 (And I don’t regret anything)

- - - - - - - - - 

   What was so enjoyable this morning was torturing you now. You came back from a mission, adding a success to your list. For once your mind was peaceful and you thought that sleep would be easy. Then why were you senselessly rubbing your thighs on your bed, with a sexual desire so intense that it was frightening ?

   Your heartbeat was fast, too fast, you felt  light headed. Some vertigos assaulted your brain at each gesture on your mattress. Sweating profusely you had the impression some shadows were leaning on you. Not hostile ones, you welcomed their touch unconsciously, your hips twitching under their imaginary contact. You tried to finally get up, wanting more than anything else to end this madness. Hallucinations... you got poisoned by something.

   But a shadow more imposing appeared. More charismatic. More defined. It pressed a palm to your chest, pushing you back slowly but with a clear authority in its gesture. You obeyed, your body briefly numb. You shivered, biting your lip as the heat inside of every atoms of your body was getting worse. It was delightful. More contact. Contact. Contact with someone who didn't exist couldn't be bad after all ? Maybe it was just a fever.

   Even your saliva seemed to be burning. You swallowed with difficulty, your eyes focusing in awe as the shadow took the shape of several people in a row. You recognized some random guards, several advisors. You knew what your sick brain was creating, it was waiting for the right fantasy. Hormones were plaguing your mind just like sand would infiltrate your clothes after a day of travelling. It was itching, everywhere on your skin, hot.

   So much hotter when the shadow finally turned into Duke Leto. You blinked, confused under the look he was giving you. You clenched around nothing as the fake leader of the House Atreides was staring at you up and down, his straight and professional stance contrasting with yours. He was wearing his uniform, a knowing grin barely hidden behind his beard from where you were, his eyes shining while scanning you.

   "You were supposed to be a good and obedient soldier. Not wanting your leader in this way", he said in a soft and hoarse voice.

   Suddenly your head was in fire. Your left cheek in particular. As soon as you opened your eyes, you were back in the cave, eyes widened with a blurry vision as the actual Duke Leto was growling at you, anger clearly visible on his face.

   "Stay awake !", he shouted before another explosion make the cave tremble. "Our unit is trying to..."

   Your brain wondered elsewhere. Too far. You lost consciousness in the middle of a battle and you had fantasized about your leader ? What the fuck was wrong with you ? And your soldiers ? What happened ? Were you injured ?

   You shivered when a heatwave similar to the one of your weird dream began to take on your body. Nothing to do with the desert's.

   Your breathing stopped for a second. Then for longer, your body stiffening as you laid back down, closing your eyes in distress, trembling. Duke Leto slapped you in the face again, and this time the pain was affecting in a way that attracted you deeper into this weird state.

   "Hey, stay awake ! I think you got poisoned, I need you to stay counscious until the..."

   Poisoned... yes, poisoned... the powder you got forced to inhale. Everything was itching. Everywhere. But not between your legs. You liked rubbing your thighs against each other, it sent a divine shiver across your skin.

   You heard Duke Leto curse under his breath as another blast almost reached the two of you. You were isolated ? Perfect for some time alone, far from your uninteresting soldiers.

   You blinked. Uninteresting soldiers ? Some time alone in the middle of a battle where you could die ? What did that mean ? Of course your soldiers were interesting, you had the best ones. You never wanted to have sex with them of course. But now maybe getting fucked by a whole battalion would be heaven...

   You swallowed at this thought, your body stiffening while your leader was pressing his palm onto your forehead, his eyebrows furrowed.

   "Fever... can you talk to me ?", he asked in a hushed voice.

   Your lips cracked as they were too dry to work properly. Impossible to talk as well. A lump in your throat. What was this powder ? Were you about to die ? Maybe this was this tickling in your muscles that would kill you. Pathetic. If only you could ride Duke Leto right now, shamelessly...

   Your eyes rolled back as if you were going to pass out and you felt his hand grabbing your jaw firmly, your brain working back to normal briefly after seeing the worry in his eyes.

   "Hey, I need you to stay awake, we already lost too many..."    A strange growl escaped your lips and goosebumps got so intense that your muscles seemed to be convulsing. You gritted your teeth, trying to ignore the shadow that reappeared in front of you. On you, while Duke Leto was holding your head. It was a dark shadow, a basic one, but you still could feel a phantom touch on your thigh, underneath your uniform.

   "Shit shit shit shit shit", he muttered under his breath.

   Your reactions convinced him you were about to pass out, to die from overdose or internal bleeding. He never saw anything like this before. You were not even able to answer correctly. What was this damn powder ? Was it already too late to save your brain and your lungs ?

   Suddenly your body began to twitch, your teeth biting your lips to blood, closing your eyes. He frowned at hearing you muttered some strangled "no I... no...". Hallucinations ? He gently grabbed your head, seeing your eyes rolling under your eyelids. Your skin was burning, sweat appearing profusely but not refreshing it.

   "Lieutenant... I've called for back up we will be safe then. Are you injured elsewhere ?" he hastily asked, stress beginning to take over him for good.

   He looked up to make sure nobody was coming to you two, and he asked the same question without getting any answer from you. He growled and you let a faint whimper out before you could feel him removing some of your clothing.

   You tried to stop him but it was so good. You were so wet for him and only for him. The shadow was pinning your wrists on the ground by your sides, you couldn't and wouldn't move. You closed your eyes, it was such a delightful feeling... actual calloused hands around your neck as he was looking for your pulse. How he growled again with worry for you... oh he was worried ? It only made you clench around nothing again. Duke Leto was worried, Duke Leto was worried, Duke Leto was worried and undressing you it was like a dream it was so hot everything was so hot it was burning your brain was dead but you could still feel his touch and it was so good and you wanted more and it was so great to be the center of his attention and...

   It stops once he managed to take your top off. He did not know he could get even more afraid, but now he was feeling desperate. Your veins took a strange color, especially those around your waist. He could even see the color reaching slowly for your heart and for your crotch. What the fuck was this ? He couldn't lose you, it was impossible...

   He pressed his palm gently onto your visible abs to regain balance when you moved suddenly, his brain distracted by the long and sensual moan that escaped your bleeding lips. He blinked several times, unsure of what he just heard. You were dying, not cumming, was he infected by some poison as well ? Even though he let his mind wandering about you sometimes it was not the...

   You moaned again, your muscles so tense that he could see them under your skin. He swallowed thickly, his hand brushing your sweaty hair with a puzzled expression.

   He pulled back when your hands moved around you while you were chasing the shadow. Fortunately it disappeared but you were so overstimulated that it made you panic. How was it possible ? What was happening ? Where were you ? Was it a nightmare ?

   You blinked several times before seeing Duke Leto leaning on you, and the heat reappeared in your core. You rubbed your thighs against each other and he looked at it, noticing for the first time what was happening. He got like paralyzed for a few seconds, his pupils never leaving your trousers. He snapped back to reality when a blast made the ground tremble.

   Duke Leto cleared his throat and did his best to dress you back, cursing the crazy proud feeling that crossed his mind when you desperately tried to grab his chest.

   "No don't do that. You're poisoned", he tried to reason you.

   He almost lost his patience but ten minutes later he managed to dress you, just at the right time before the back up arrive. By the time you reached the infirmary, you were tied up after having tried to have your way with everyone you saw, your body entirely covered by those weird-colored veins that disappeared all of a sudden. Not that it was a good sign.

   You were laying down on a metal table, still as aroused as hours before but your body strangely still. You were staring up at Duke Leto who was standing next to you, now in his official uniform. His lips were moving but you couldn't hear his words. You just wanted to fuck. Right now. There.

   He was trying not to give anything away but he was feeling a bit too aroused for the situation. He was standing straight and was glad his clothing was hiding the bulge that formed a few minutes ago. You were like a totally different person. Predator eyes, dilated pupils staring at him. Your chest going up and down at the rythm of your deep and shaky breath. He was jealous of the nurses who managed to undress you to make you wear this thin white dress. They took care of some minor wounds and were analyzing what caused your body react like this.

   "... and no anesthesia in case it could poison you to death mixed with this aphrodisiac.", he told you in a firm voice.

   His lips twitched when your eyes stared at the level of his crotch, your tongue licking your lip with a visible desire. You couldn't see his erection but you could... smell... or feel it. He swallowed when your hips moved slightly towards him, the textile revealing more of your skin. He was still staring at your bare skin above your knee when your mewling voice reached his ears, ringing so well.

   "I still feel so aroused for you sir... I defended your life today... I was so obedient... I never ask for anything sir... but you should..."

   He closed his eyes when you let out a shaky breath, your eyelids fluttering shut as you whispered a trembling "siiiiiir". He loved the normal human being you were, tough, loyal, ready to contradict him if necessary but always with respect. But today you were driving him crazy. It was not your normal voice. Or maybe it was, after all you never had sex or anything. Never kissed as well. Just some rare flirtatious grin that could also be only some results of his dirty imagination when anything was about you. He cared too much for you to put you in danger of the political life that could be even worse than the military one. But having a duchess like you...

   He cleared his throat, and couldn't even hide his grin anymore, his eyes still closed.

   "Lieutenant... you are not in your...", he began before biting his lip as he heard you moan again. It was like your animalistic arousal was back.

   "Sir... Sir...", was all what escaped your lips before a short pause. "Sir I want you so much... more than any nurse or doctor or soldier or mercenary or... I want you more than anyone else... you're driving me crazy my duke... you should take me right now..."

   He gritted his teeth at your desperation, at his own desire, and at the embarassed and nervous chuckle that escaped from the doctors who were present. He was sure that after this... thing, you would never dare to come back to the infirmary, even with all of your limbs broken and a cracked skull. He warned the doctors with an agressive look that made them lower their head in a submissive stance and he breathed in to talk to you, still in a calm voice.

   "The effects could stop in a few hours. The doctors will tell me when..."

   You looked back up at his eyes and it was so intense that he lost his words for a second, feeling his cock react even more.

   "... it will be over", he managed to finish.

   You nodded, still eyefucking him. He blinked several times before letting his eyes down to your thighs as you tried to spread your legs more, revealing more of your bare skin to him. He swallowed silently, feeling his instincts kicking him even more at seeing some stains of liquid on your thighs. He still couldn't see your panties and didn't even know if you were wearing any though. Shit, your body was divine...

   "Siiiir...", you cooed in a pouting voice as your bounds stopped you from spreading your legs more than that.

   Some kind of relief took control as he saw you incapable of doing more than that and he decided it would be better to go back to his quarters to take care of his sexual frustration by himself, but you suddenly dressed your lips with a devilish grin and a wink.

   A doctor felt the danger coming closer and covered your hips and legs with a white sheet, but you still managed to hip thrust so expertly that it uncovered your black panty for a short moment. You laughed as his eyes were still staring at where your pussy was a few moments ago.

   "Siiiir, if you knew how wet I am for you right now and how tight I am..."

   He lost patience, rubbing his face with his two hands, and gave order to the doctors and nurses to make sure you were totally covered, to gag you if needed, and to isolate you. As his voice was clearly irritated and angry, they didn't even dare to protest. You were the one whispering a "you're so kinkyyyy siiiir I love it..." but he snapped at you with a growling voice so threatening it made you shiver in anticipation.

   "You, you better stop that right now or trust me you will get demoted at the first occasion and you will regret it".

   He thought it worked but after all your brain was infected so the only result was a...

   "Sir, if you want to punish me just punish me, I won't complain I will always obey and you know that I want to be good to you so much..."

   He left without a word, grumbling and walking in a way that made his frustrated and enraged aura visible to everyone. It only made you even more aroused, asking a doctor if your punishment for making him lose his temper would be as good as you thought. He was the leader of the House Atreides... you made him lose his temper... oooh he would punish you so hard after that !

   But a few hours later everything went downhill. Your body was making you suffer so much that you were screaming. The heat was unbearable, your blood boiling and your muscles begging for release from your bounds. Doctors and nurses were trying to find a solution but were completely lost.

   Something placed onto your face made your skin burn. It was wiping your sweat off and you merely stopped screaming that your body soothed immediately.

  Lips. You had lips kissing you gently with a beard tickling your cheeks. You hummed, enjoying the sweet feeling that was spreading through your veins. Your body and mind were peaceful again. So better. Heaven. It was perfect.

   The kiss deepened and you heard him groan as a calloused palm rested on your cheek to let him be the one leading your exchange. Your bounded hands tried to grab the man but it was useless. You let his tongue play with yours, and you moaned when teeth bit your lip.

   Someone cleared their throat somewhere and you heard a shy feminine voice.

   "Hum... Duke Leto..."

   He hummed once more, clearly disapproving getting interrupted before kissing you deeply again. It was him. It was him. He was... he was there for you. He was the one who made your torture stop.

   The nurse sighed and talked a bit louder as the wet sound of the kiss could be heard in the isolation room.

   "If you plan to have a sexual intercourse with this patient you...", and she stopped as soon as the kiss got broken by the duke who turned around with a murderous glare.

   "Yes I'm planning to have a sexual intercourse with her as it seems to be the only solution, yes I know she has her birth control implant as the doctor told me, and yes I know the effects on me are unknown.Now get out of here unless you want to see me fucking her", he growled.

   Without waiting for her answer he kissed you again as he heard you beg with whimpers behind his back. If a few hours before your body was trying to be the one that would initiate an intercurse with anyone, now it was focused on being the one receiving attention from this man in particular. It was like your desire became tamed, more patient. And as it stopped an actual torture, you were not complaining.

  Duke Leto became more insisting, managing to make you moan almost each time, one hand on your cheek and the other one on your thigh. He groaned after a while, breaking the kiss again, looking down at you with dilated pupils and whispering to you.

  « I'm sorry if you are somehown conscious of the whole situation and not consenting to it, but there are results. It's something that can only be cured with a sexual intercourse and you have to receive someone's seed », he said with a frown, as if it seemed uncomfortable for him.

  You only twitched your body more to make him come back to you, which he did by kissing you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth again. He moved his body again to get closer to the table you were on, and your parasited mind felt victorious as you could touch his bulge from the tip of your stretched out fingers. You felt his grin against your lips, and he stared at you with bright eyes.

  « And I thought you were disciplined lieutenant... such impatience for your duke shouldn't remain ignored much longer, right ? » was his answer and your only reactions were how you bit your lip, begging him with a desperate glance.

  A low chuckle from him. It was frustrating you as the ticklings began to reappear. The bad ticklings, the ones that ended making you want to tear your limbs off your body. A hint of fear got given away by your face and the duke brushed your hair from your forehead, kissing this area gently. You swallowed when he looked back at the door, this time talking to the nurse who stayed there in fear.

  « Get the fuck out of here and do your job ».

 She blushed to an unprecedented level and you even grinned at how protective Duke Leto could be with you right now. It was a strange thing, torn between your actual feelings and admiration for him, and the primal sexual desire that wanted to mate with him at this precise moment. He kissed you again as she got out of the isolation room and you shivered when he acted instantly as starved. Your body could only twitch under how hot his breath was, on your forehead, your lips, your nose, your cheeks, your chin, then when he made you tilt your head to the side, leaving a mark on your neck.

 You chuckled as he dropped the sheet covering your legs on the ground, his hand resting immediately on your thigh. Your brain went back to overreaction and any notion of self control got burned to ashes when he stopped kissing, walking to your side, his hand brushing yor bare skin. His dark eyes were targetting your crotch even though he couldn't see it through the textile of your dress. He grinned before beginning to touch your skin on your whole leg, sliding his palm up and down. Once on your thigh then your knee, your calve, up to higher on your thigh then back to your calve.

 « You are so beautifull... not only today, but... you are just sublime all the time... you should know it. I don't know if you let any other man or woman touch your body like this but... » he began in a calm and calculating voice, interrupting when his hand lifted the dress to watch your soaked black panties, making your lungs stop working. He grinned, brushing it with his forefinger slowly. « You didn't lie when you told me how wet you were... good... glad to see you're still so honest, it's a great quality and I admire this ».

 You were silently begging him to touch you more, your desperate plea having only your brain as witness. Duke Leto seemed so composed by doing it. It was like everything was normal to him. As if he had already saw it somewhere. And by miracle, your voice came back to life.

 « Sir... please... do something... »

 He frowned, looking at your eyes and squinted.

 « Does it hurt you again ? »

 You exhaled a shaky « no » and rotated your hips a bit to make him understand that you wanted much more than that. Having him wanting to play with you was something, but your body had been seeking release for literal hours. Twelve hours more exactly.

 While staring at you and at your reactions, he slipped his forefinger to the side of your panties, his grin widening as he felt how wet you were. You barely had time to whisper his name, and not his title, that he found your clit, barely pressing it to make his presence known. He let out a chuckle when you almost cried at this, his mere touch enough to send your brain to self destruction. He removed is finger to taste your fluid, and hummed in approval before nodding, putting his finger back to your clit while talking, his fascinated eyes now staring at your entrance.

 « You're really perfect at everything, aren't you ? I look forward to seeing how hot you will be while you'll be cumming darling », he said before sighing and removing the bounds around your ankles.

 You hummed with so much impatience, your hips undulating like a snake, that he laughed genuinly in a sound too rare for your taste, his hands caressing your legs. He removed your panties as well, throwing it to the floor carelessly. Intense ticklings came back when you heard him undoing his belt, your eyes flipping shut.

 You heard the sound of his footsteps as he walked back to your side, your frustrated eyes following him at the edge of spitting fire to him to make him do his job of the moment, i.e fucking you hard on this fucking table.

 The only result was another chuckle from him as he brushed your cheek.

 « Yes, I know, you want my cock, be patient beautiful, you won't regret it » he promised in a tender voice.

 You only nodded with a pouting face, and he began to undo the bounds on your wrists. He stopped, squinted back at you.

 « Don't try to jump onto me because you feel desperate. I am the one leading. Between the two of us, I a the commander. Remember ? »

 You nodded, fighting back the desire to tell him every dirty thing that were taking possession of your mind. He must have noticed something as he squinted eve more. He stopped undoing your bounds to undress himself first, changing his plans. Not that you were complaining. You bit your lips at his hips and his cock, already clenching at how much pleasure this man could potentially bring to you. Finally some release after the worst day of your life.

 « You know what ? Not to make it personal but right now, I don't trust you,you're too silent... you are the exact opposite of earlier... »

 Of course he would have noticed it. Of course. You gritted your teeth as he stepped back from you, but hope made its way to your eyes as you saw him stroking his cock, positioning himself between your legs. He hummed as he looked at your soaking entrance, biting his lips before squinting back at you.

 You couldn't tell if your shiver was due to fear or anticipation, but your moan when he licked slowly, sooo slowly your clit was enough to tell him you loved how he did things. You arched your back, cooing with delight before he immediately began to lick and suck on it with more strength. This time you were not silent anymore, whispering praise mixed with curses and his name as you could only take what he was giving you. He snaked his arms around your legs to keep you as still as possible. He occasionally hummed or chuckled, just appreciating how you reacted. He was whispering praises as well but you just could not hear them, as honest as they were. Your first orgasm came quickly because of how well he was taking care of you, devastating because of the wait that lasted the whole day. He kept sucking on your clit before licking your entrance, drinking from it as you were wet enough to make him do this. You screamed again as you felt his tongue penetrating you slightly, just enough to cause you nerves to explode. He even stopped shortly, surprised by how hard your body reacted to him. He even preferred fingering you with one then two fingers, convinced he would cum as well in just a matter of seconds after you if he didn't calm down. And he wouldn't waste this occasion to feel you around his cock. How tight you should be in this state...

 You almost lose your voice after this second orgasm, and even though your body weakened your hormones were still kicking. You never felt that, it was unbelievable. When Duke Leto began fingering you harder, you felt yourself crumble again, and the « already ready to cum again my warrior ? » he mumbled was what made you scream again. It was hot in there, so hot you were convinced that the metal table underneath could melt at your mere touch.

 He stood up again apparently ready to use his cock this time, but he stopped, looking at your entrance, smirking before eating you out again shortly, never hiding his approval at your taste. He was more gentle than the first time and it was just as perfect. You sighed as another orgasm was getting closer, more slowly than the other ones.

 « Sir... please sir... it's good but... I want you... » was the only thing you could coo before him kissing your thigh, letting his wet lips and beard resting on your skin for several seconds. Then he came back at eating you out, closing his eyes in delight.

 His own pleasure only made yours more intense and a new sinful wave made your brain go blank. How could a powder  make people needy like this ? It was completely crazy. Just crazy.

This time, he stood up, a satisfied grin on his lips before walking to you, his hand brushing your thigh up to your tummy, to your breast, then to your chin. His fingers gripped it tightly to make you look at him before he kissed you deeply, and you understood why he liked eating you out so much, to the point of preferring it to fucking you on this table. It had such a sweet taste that your brain seemed to get addicted to it quickly. Without his legendary self control he could have kept going for painful hours.

 « Perfect. You are perfect. I'll let you go now », he murmured before kissing you on on your cheek.

 And as soon as your bounds got undone, you grabbed him to you. It was stronger than you. You sat down on the side of the table to kiss him. If you were the one leading for a few seconds, it was over quickly. He managed to pin you down to the metal, straddling you without much effort with a warning tone in his voice.

 « Really ? Did you really think it would lead you to something ? Unless you want me to fuck you hard ? You seem to be more than ready after all... »

 You nodded, but he only grinned in a amused way. He embraced you tightly with his arms around your naked form, his cock against your tummy, his mouth leaving multiple marks onto your neck. You groaned and moaned, managing to speak a bit, your voice hoarse from screaming.

 « Leto... please... »

 Without realizing it you already took the habit of calling him by his name but he didn't seem to care since the beginning. Actually, himself was really impatient as well.

 It didn't take him long before he took your chin firmly between his fingers, making you look at him. His usual concerned or determined frown was replaced by one of expectation, his dilated pupils reflected yours. You licked the corne of his mouth where your wetness was still present, and as you were doing it you moaned, feeling the tip of his cock against your entrance. The hot tickles reappeared in your whole body as you grabbed his shoulders, his cock sliding slowly inside of you. He closed his eyes, cursing in a slight chuckle muffled against your shoulder.

 « Oh shit, how can you be so hot and tight... »

 You really feared this intercourse would have to stop as he had to take all his time to go deeper without hurting you. But all of a sudden you breathed in, calming you overreacting nerves, and he penetrated you more easily, letting out a relieved sigh. If he seemed to be gentle, he ended it by grabbing a handful of your hair, staring at you as he gave his first gentle thrust. You were not th only one closing your eyes though, and soon his pace increased, all sign of gentleness fading away except for the few kisses. His hands would leave marks on your thighs and hips, but the way he was slamming into you was exactly what your hormones were asking for. You heard him growling when your nails attacked his back and shoulders, making him go even harder, making you lay down on the table, lifting one of your legs in his shoulder to have a better angle.

 Your sweat sticked to the table, and when one of his hands grabbed your left breast your whimpered even more. It was not long until you came again, screaming even louder than before. You knew you would be exhausted. How you knew it well. But you could only hope it wouldn't end so soon even when you clenched around his cock so much that...

 He pressed his hands on the table, at each sides of your head as his thrusts became erratic. He mumbled something and you understood the meaning immediately as if it was not obvious enough, and when you felt his hot seed filling you up, a strange but welcomed feeling took over your mind. It was not an orgasm. It was a great joy, primal yes, but... different. As if your body knew that this madness was over just by contact with his seed. Hot and cold at the same time in different parts of your limp body. Without resisting, and like at the verge of sleep all of a sudden, you let Duke Leto bringing you up to his level, keeping you sat down on the table, his hand behind your head as he brushed you hair, his cock still inside of you. You nuzzled his neck, feeling sore. It was strange. The ticklings disappeared, the dirty thoughts as well. Exhaustion really was the only result. You didn't even feel guilty or ashamed of anything. His presence was comforting.

  You smiled weakly when he kissed your temple and you just sighed, stroking his chest with your palm. You could hear his heartbeat, still fast and strong. It felt intimate like this.

 « Do you feel better now ? »

 His question seemed genuine and you nodded against him as he was lulling you so slightly you could barely feel it. It was brief though, and he stepped back, his seed spilling between your legs. Now that you were thinking about what the doctors and nurses would say, you felt shy.

 Feeling you were too weak to do anything else, he made you stand up slowly, holding your arm while cleaning your skin with some wet cloth that was given to him. Maybe some hormones were tricking you but he seemed really compassionate, his low voice next to your ear.

 « There is no shame between us. Yes it happened. If you regret this or even didn't want it I understand. Just tell me how you feel right now. You can tell me everything. There is no wrong answer. »

 You swallowed, looking for the right words. It took you a few seconds, but finally you looked at him in the eyes, tiredness easy to find in his face.

 « I... don't regret this. It was torturing me at some point. That shit made me suffer too much. I really couldn't live longer with that. So... yes, I wanted it. »

 You looked down but he didn't permit you this gesture, his hand making you look up before kissing your forehead.

[notanathleteslungs]

So, I am almost finished with rewatch number I Don’t Even Know At This Point of Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood. I just noticed something that I find pretty interesting, partly because I never picked up on it before now.

(I am very sorry if this seems to go all over the place, I woke up at 5AM yesterday and couldn’t get back to sleep, I got a massage so I’m a little sore and I wrote the majority of this at 10PM last night when my eyes were trying to unfocus themselves. I still don’t know if there’s any cohesion to it or if it’s as rambley and rant-y as I think.)

TLDR; the presentation of alchemy in Fullmetal Alchemist makes it spiritual as well as scientific.

So when you ask someone what Fullmetal Alchemist is, they will probably think about it before saying it’s a sci-fi/fantasy show. Because alchemy is fake but also is an early form of science. And they’d be right. Alchemy was basically an early form of chemistry with all the talk of elements and what makes up what and yada yada yada. It also is mainly thought of alongside fantasy worlds coinciding with potion-making.

However, there is an inherently spiritual quality to how it is presented in Fullmetal Alchemist.

Let’s start with the transmutation circles. The transmutation circle is a symbol by which an alchemist is able to do a transmutation. There are many different ways to make a transmutation circle, but the base is always, say it with me: a Circle. Circles are the perfect symbol of unity, of togetherness and equality. The reason King Arthur made a Round Table was so that even though he was the king of Camelot he was of the same rank as the knights he allowed at the table. When we did icebreakers in choir, we always made a circle so everyone was included and no one was left out. Circles are the symbol of a whole.

Everyone used a circle to perform a transmutation. If you’re a hobby alchemist, just doing it for funzies in your basement, chances are you carry chalk with you to draw a circle if/when you need to. But a career alchemist—especially the state alchemists—always carried a specialized circle with them somewhere on their bodies. Mustang had his circle sewed into his gloves so he could make a spark and also do the transmutation. Armstrong had his circle engraved on his gauntlets, so with every strike he could activate the circle and make what he wanted. Kimblee, Isaac MacDougle, and one guy in the Star of Milos movie had their circles tattooed on their skin, Kimblee and MacDougle on their palms and SoM guy on his arm. They carried their circle everywhere. It gave them a connection to their alchemy so they could always do a transmutation if they found themselves in a situation. Now on to our human transmutation people.

Ed, Al, and Izumi are rare cases in FMA in that they are able to do transmutation without a circle. It is explained that this is because they performed human transmutation. It is safe to assume that the reason they are rare is because everyone else who did it probably did not survive, so yippee, our three favorite alchemists beat the odds (especially Izumi). As the reward for surviving the rebound, they don’t need to draw a circle; however, they do still make a circle, by clapping their hands and making a circle with their arms. They are still whole. And when Ed was trying to get himself, Ling, and Envy out of Gluttony’s stomach, Ling said it looks like Ed prays when he transmutes.

Here is what actually prompted this idea.

Even though Ed, Al, and Izumi don’t need to draw a circle, they are forced to humble themselves when doing transmutation. The most common thing for them to transmute—and most readily available—is the ground beneath their feet. Unless you’re a contortionist, there’s no way you can touch the ground without bending your knees. So alchemists who perform human transmutation—an act that defies God—and manage to survive the rebound are forced to humble themselves for the rest of their life when they perform a transmutation. They are forced to their hands and knees to look up at their target, a pretty vulnerable position. They are punished for their arrogance by being lower than everyone else as long as they live.

Now, connections. Each alchemist has a connection with whatever they are transmuting, whether physical or symbolic. Mustang has a flame and (probably) a salamander on his circle. Fire is easy, but salamanders got their connection with fire both from their red skin and that when a piece of wood with salamanders in it was thrown on a fire, the salamanders would crawl away as the wood burned, leaving the assumption that they came from the fire. Mustang’s connection with his transmutation of fire is symbolic. Armstrong’s connection is more physical, because his circle is on a gauntlet. Said gauntlet protects his hand as he punches, and when he punches stone, he transmutes that stone. Ed, Al, and Izumi are even more physical than Mustang because they physically touch whatever they’re transmuting. Armstrong has a metal plate between his skin and the stone, but our human transmutation folks have bare contact.

In a way, this bare contact gives them an even deeper connection with their transmutation. Not only are they themselves the circle, they also directly influence what they transmute. In performing human transmutation, they have forged a deeper connection between themselves and the world. Ed is the perfect example of this, because when he gave up his portal, he gave up his connection to the alchemy, and therefore his connection to the world. It’s like humans looking at Mars. We know exactly what it’s made of, whether or not the air is breathable, but we have no true connection to the planet, not like we do Earth. It is this connection to Earth that gave rise to all the myths from different cultures. Ed is kind of like the astronauts in The Martian, or whatever that Matt Damon movie was. He is on the planet, he understands it, but he doesn’t have any real connection to it anymore. It’s kind of heartbreaking when you realize it.

BACK ON TRACK!

Father and Hohenheim are kind of the worst case scenario. They are examples of what happens when you play god and win. They don’t need a circle, a unity. They don’t need a symbol to connect them with their transmutation. They can just be god and make something from nothing. They have no connection to their transmutation or the world despite having this god-like influence over it.

In gaining the philosopher’s stone, Father and Hohenheim were able to ignore what makes alchemy spiritual. Hohenheim doesn’t want to—he has always regretted what happened in Xerxes to the point that he worked with the souls in his stone to get to know them and pay them back as individuals. He got to know them so he could recite name, occupation, and quirks of their personality at the drop of a hat. I can go on a whole other rant about that being a trait passed to Ed and Al based on what happened with Nina but I won’t right now.

This is getting rant-y and I’m losing my train of thought, but basically, the way people do alchemy in FMA has incorporated aspects of a spirituality that you might not notice on your first watch if you’re the kind of person (like me) who watches or reads something for the enjoyment, not the analysis. First, there is a sense of connection between alchemists and their transmutation; they carry a circle—a symbol of unity—everywhere they go to act as a bridge between themselves and their transmutation. Second, people who do human transmutation almost have a deeper connection than other alchemists because they are able to make themselves the circle (and in the act of transmuting, almost pray to the very God they attempted to defy) but in exchange are forced to humble themselves before God and other people. Third, there is a contact between alchemists and their transmutation, but human transmutation takes away a barrier that other alchemists can enjoy between themselves and their transmutation. While other alchemists have the opportunity to distance themselves through a medium, Ed, Al, and Izumi made themselves the medium so they can never distance themselves. Lastly, people who have/are philosopher’s stones have destroyed the connection between themselves and transmutation because they don’t need a circle and they don’t need to touch what they’re transmuting. They don’t need to fear being struck down by God because they believe they are God and transmute as God would, standing tall and proud. Arrogant. I have a feeling if they tried doing human transmutation with a philosopher’s stone, the rebound would be even worse. If their body were taken and someone tried getting their soul back, I don’t think Truth would let them go. Whoever tried saving them would be sent back empty handed if Truth was merciful or wouldn’t go back at all if they were not.

Now that I have well and truly gone on a rant, do with this insight what you will.

[midnight-lightning]

Of fanboys and soldiers

Summary: A mission goes horribly wrong and now Bucky’s life is in your hands

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warning: blood, mention of surgery, Angst, Fluff

"Look, who I found outside!" Natasha was walking into the kitchen, beside her a slightly nervous grinning Peter Parker, who's eyes strangely wandered off and on like he was searching for something. "Hello, Miss - erm Y/N," he stuttered, giving you a shy smile, then he seemed trying to find a position to stand in, not wanting to appear awkward- which he managed without real success. This boy was just adorable. You tried your best to hide your amusement behind a polite smile and rather pointed at the table you were sitting at, inviting him to join you. Maybe some company would be nice. "Want a pancake?" Peter's eyes brightened up for a second when he saw all the food in front of him, pancakes, fruits, yoghurts, fresh bread... everything that was needed to feed the stomachs of several avengers who lived in this - Tony's - house or at least all of them who were at home at this time. "Oh, no, no I probably shouldn't," he declined while he bashfully scratched the back of his head. "Kid, you're family. Now sit down and eat," you insisted and Peter - obviously touched by being called family - tentatively decided to join you at the breakfast table. Meanwhile Natasha- who had watched this scenario with obvious entertainment- pushed herself off the frame of the door and walked out. "Enjoy your meal, kids!" Kids? Excuse me? You leaned back in your seat to see her properly in the hallway before you shouted dryly, "We will! So sad you can't join us!" Poor Nat had to set out for a meeting together with Tony; it involved something about politics, Avengers something like that. Boring stuff. But the second she turned her head back to you, you flipped your chair straight again to avoid receiving any ... not very nice things. Or very hard things. And Nat could aim. Too good. On the other side of the table you noticed that Peter suddenly seemed more relaxed and less nervous now. He still hadn't touched any food, though. You squeezed your eyes in suspicion. "Peter Parker, are YOU nervous because of Natasha?" Poor boy didn't have to say anything, his shocked face and slightly reddened cheeks told everything. "Me? No, of course not! I mean... she's a little ... intimidating. You know what I mean? N-Not in a mean way but- sorry," he stuttered looking down on his plate. "Why are you laughing?" Immediately you stopped, not wanting to hurt his feelings or anything, nor to get blustered over by Tony afterwards for insulting his son. Besides you really didn't wanna see him uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Kid. It's just - never mind." You watched him taking a big bite of his chocolate pancake and then humming in enjoyment. Speaking of Tony... "You know your Da- ugh Tony isn't here today, right?"

You made a face. It had already been so common within you Avengers that Tony and him were practically considered father and son that some slippers like that happened sometimes. Though you knew Tony had stopped bothering after a time, you didn't know how Peter would react to hear your inside nicknames for them. Whether he noticed or not he didn't show it, instead Peter lowered his third pancake and looked again kind of embarrassed. "I was - erm actually hoping I would see Bucky."

You lift a brow in surprise. "Bucky?" Have they ever even really met? But nonetheless he and Steve were on a mission in Canada right now and will not return in the next days. "Yeah, I feel like I need to apologize to him. You know for what happened at the airport." Oh. Yes. There they certainly did meet. Your heart swelled up at his statement and you realized there couldn't be any purer angel on earth than him. "Oh, Pete," you sighted. "You really do have a heart of gold, you know that? But I'm sure he never took offense at any of this,” you reassured him. "You see, he was rather shocked at how young you had been." "Wait, he has actually talked about me?" Peter seemed genuinely shocked about it, after literally being Tony's secret ace up his sleeve and kicking their asses all the way. He was seriously surprised people talked about him.

"Ohmygodthatssocool!" He chattered and you let out an amused laugh at his enthusiasm. We've found a fan boy!

If only Buck could hear this right now; See that there are so many people out there who cherished and admired him. People beside you and his best friends.

"Like the winter soldier! Or no, I shouldn't call him like that, he’s more like the white wolf! Bucky Barnes! I would literally-" "QUICK! WE NEED HELP!" Peter's speech was abruptly interrupted by loud voices coming from the entrance.

Alarmed you immediately stormed out of the kitchen, leaving knocked over chairs and dishes behind. You didn’t feel the need to be careful right now because it had been clearly Steve’s voice shouting for help, who shouldn’t have been here for another two days. Unless something had utterly gone wrong. The first thing you noticed, was the huge amount of blood covering up the ground on which Steve stood. The man himself looked like shit. Beaten up with bruises and even burns all over his body.

But leaned on his shoulder, was Bucky and he didn’t even look alive anymore.

Barely audible his name escaped your lips, while your heart stopped beating.

Within a second you were next to him, cupping his face in your hands only to wince at how cold the skin beneath your fingers felt.

Your eyes flickered over his pale skin, over his slightly turning blue lips and his eyes which twitched around the room, not focusing on anything. He was barely even conscious.

His face too was beaten up and burnt, a piece of his eyebrow was missing. But the worst was definitely the bullet wound in his abdomen that made him lose too much blood right now. It was everywhere.

Oh god all this blood.

You were losing your mind.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry

Y/N, calm down. You got this. He needs you.

This all happened within the few seconds you needed to get a grip on yourself.

With a pounding heart you took a deep breath while switching in your professional Doctor mode.

“What happened?” You asked Steve while you slipped to Bucky’s other side so the both of you could carry Bucky into the treatment room.

“We were already on our way back home, thinking we already got everything covered,” Steve started to explain, sounding out of breath. “When they literally appeared out of nowhere. God, everything went so fast then. They were so many. And suddenly they were shotguns and explosions everywhere. And Bucky, this idiot, felt the need to safe me from a bullet.”

Yes, that sounded like the Bucky you knew, always ready to sacrifice himself for people he cared for.

“The hospital was too far away, didn’t want to take the risk, so I brought him back here. I just didn’t know If he … if he would make it any longer.”

You nodded, taking the information in. “He will. He will, Steve.” You answered firmly, but you weren’t sure if you were convincing him or rather yourself.

Carefully the both of you placed Bucky on the treatment table and instantly you reached for the nearest towel you could find. You ripped open his shirt to have a better look at the bullet wound and enough room to apply pressure to ease the blood flow.

Bucky groaned out of pain, making you wince. “I’m so sorry, Buck, but I have to do this.”

Suddenly his hand grasped your wrist.

You froze.

“Y/N?” Barely even a whisper, but you still heard him. His eyelids flattered, struggling to stay awake.

A little relief washed over you face, hearing his voice. At least he had still the strength to talk.  

Softly you put his hand back on his chest. “Shh, save your strength, alright? I need you to hold on, love.”

When you looked up you noticed that Bruce had already arrived in the room, clearly shocked at the view. Still, once he got a picture out of the whole situation he went over to you and without a further question just took a new towel and kept applying pressure on Bucky’s wound instead.

That gave you the time you needed to gather every tool you will need for the small operation. Thereby you lifted your head to Steve and Peter who were watching the scenery with both fear and concern. While Steve looked a bit more stabled Peter turned alarmingly pale himself. He shouldn’t be seeing that right now.

“Steve? Are you in a stable condition right now? Or do you have a serious inju-“

The Captain immediately shook his head. “No, no I’m fine. Please, Bucky is more important in this moment.”

You nodded, your eyes flickering to Peter for a second. “Pete, I need you to leave this room. I don’t want you to witness this.”

The poor boy seemed to be in quite a shock but Steve put his arm around his shoulder and gave you a forced smile. “I’ve got this, Y/N.”

With a last, worried look to his best friend, he and Peter left the room, leaving you and Barnes alone.  

You moved the table with the tools next to where Bucky lay, reaching for the Anesthetic injection when you noticed the blood on your hands.

His blood.

It was everywhere.

His blood.

He was dying.

You could lose him.

His blood.

 Suddenly you felt warm hands covering your trembling fingers, startling you but bringing your mind back to earth. Bruce gave you a small smile but nodded sternly and internally you just wanted to slap yourself. Yes, he would die if you keep sitting here! You had done this over a thousand time, get a grip, Y/N!

But it just never had been Bucky’s life you needed to safe…

Bruce gave you a sympathetic but reassuring smile, before he gently took the syringe out of your hand. While he injected it to Bucky you took the time to prepare everything – yourself included - for what was coming.

“You got this?”

You nodded, not saying anything.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The next few hours you could easily call the worst of your life.

Bucky’s pulse had become even weaker, his vitals worse. His whole life was literally in your hands. You didn’t dare to imagine what would happen if his heart would just stop beating, you couldn’t because then you would start to lose your mind and then you would have a breakdown and then no one would be there to safe him.

So you gave your best in removing the bullet out of his body, stopping the bleeding, sewing the wound.

You and Bruce had done everything you could possibly do.

Now the wound was fully treated and bandaged. Bucky’s face was cleaned, the burns creamed.

You were exhausted and drained on a new level, but by god, you couldn’t let yourself sleep right now. You weren’t even able too.

Not when Bucky, your Bucky was lying here, barely having escaped death.

Bruce had gone to bed a couple of hours ago, of course only after he had helped to take Bucky over to his room. Thanks to the serum in Buck’s blood, which ensured that he didn’t need any infusions, he could lay vacantly and comfortable in his bed.  

You sat next to him on a chair, watching his peacefully resting face. Fondly you brushed some hair out of his face.

HE had finally gained a little more colour and even his heart rate was normal again, giving you hope that he’ll finally be awake soon.

“Please, come back to me,” you whispered while you gently brought his hand up to you lips, putting a soft kiss on it.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

You must have felt asleep because the next thing you knew Steve was entering the room, a frown on his face.

“Bucky is stable now,” you murmured still half asleep, trying to hide the yawn that escaped you.

Steve chuckled. “Yes, I got it the other twenty times you’ve said that today, too. I’m more concerned for you, Y/N.”

“Me? But how are you feeling? I see Bruce had done a good job on your own injuries.”

“Don’t try to change the topic. You know what? You go and get some deserved sleep, while I watch over him, alright?”

“But if anything happens- “you protested.

“I’ll make sure to call you,” Steve promised, a soft smile on his lips, before he shooed you out of the room.

As soon as the door closed behind you, you knew you couldn’t go back to sleep. Not when he wasn’t in reach anymore.

So you paced around the rooms, cleaning anything that was in sight, just to keep your thoughts from the endless racing ‘what ifs’. Friday updated you with every small information or change or anything that concerned Bucky’s health.

When you entered the kitchen you were surprised to find Peter was still here, eating Tony’s inventories of his favourite cookies. This time it was you who joined him.

Apparently he couldn’t sleep either so the next few hours you let yourself get distracted by Peter’s entertaining stories and little jokes, until the end of Steve’s shift drew to a close.

Carefully, not wanting to make any loud noises you opened the door to Bucky’s and yours shared room, Peter who wanted to visit Bucky too, was right behind you.

The early morning sunshine shined through the window right on Bucky’s peaceful features. It made him look like an angel. Though it would be beautiful any other time, now it just made your heart clench.  

With a very exhausted face Steve stood up from the chair he was sitting at and ran his hand through his messy hair, while he still managed to give you a hopeful smile.

“How is he?” You asked him, while you slowly approached Bucky’s bed.

Steve cleared his throat. “His vitals are still fine. Bruce came a couple of hours ago to take a few tests. Everything looked good.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I thought you promised me…” You turned around to the Captain reproachfully and a little hurt but he just looked slightly guilty.

“Y/N, have you seen yourself? I wanted to let you sleep at least for a while.”

Peter, who noticed the uprising tension between you caused by the lack of sleep, immediately stepped in. “But when’s he gonna wake up?”

“I don’t know, Pete.” You shook your head, wrapping your arms around your chest.

“But- But it’s a when, right? Not an if?”

“Of course, Pete, I-“

“How long are you guys going to stand around my bed like a bunch of creepers?”

You whirled around. “Bucky...”

There he was… even though he just woke up he already had this amused glint in his blue eyes, watching you all.

With a racing heart you knelt down on the ground in front of where he lay. While you gently put a hand on his forehead to see if his fever vanished you tried to hold your tears back. “How are you feeling?”

Bucky used his hand to put it on top of your own before he grinned weakly. “Well, my eyebrow hurt.”

You chuckled and managed a teary laugh. “Oh? Just your eyebrow?”

Considering there was nearly nothing left of his right eyebrow…

You moved a little as Steve knelt down beside you, giving a little space. “You gave me quite a fright there, pal.” He stated, looking just as relived as you felt. “You know I’ve had everything under control.”

Bucky laughed at this, clearly not believing anything. “Yeah sure. I’ve hear this one over 70 years ago, too, you know.”

Suddenly his eyes locked on something behind you and it was a moment of realization lasting only a split second. When you turned around to see what had caught his attention you noticed Peter who had appeared in the door frame, looking a little bit embarrassed by all the eyes laying on him.

“Surprised to see you here, Spider kid,” Bucky said to which Peter’s eyes widened.

“You- you do really remember me?”

“How couldn’t I? Your attack was quite surprising at the airport. With those sticky ...” Bucky tried to  intimate peter’s movement, struggling for words.

“Nets. Spider nets,” Peter explained with an excited and proud grin. 

“You made them yourself?”

You looked over to Steve who had been watching their conversation in delight and the both of you shared an amused grin about the fan boy. You decided to give them turning friends a little space.

“You’ll be okay?” you mouthed and when Bucky gave you a reassuring nod you and Steve left the room for a while.

You went to the kitchen where you prepared some sandwiches and something to drink for everyone and put them on a tablet.

Steve sat down on a chair at the kitchen isle removing some leftover cookie crumbs. “Did Bruce finally go to bed?”

“Yes, fortunately. Though, I don’t think it will last any longer. He’s Bruce after all.” 

The whole night he had stayed awake taking care of all of you, bringing blankets, food, coffee, treating Bucky… He was a real hero.

“And you should go, too, you haven’t really slept in more than 30 hours,” he said in a stern tone.

“Take a sandwich, Steve.”

“And I know you weren’t sleeping during my shift!” He protested but took the sandwich nevertheless.

You held both your hands up in defense. “Alright, alright! You got me there. Let me just- “A pleading look to the door that lead to Bucky’s room and he understood.

“Yeah, yeah, sure go ahead but I’m watching you.”

With raised eyebrows but still smiling you made your way over to Bucky again, though not without shouting over your shoulder, “You’re not my Dad, Steve!”

You walk in on Peter and Bucky laughing about something; Peter still with a bright, joyful grin on his face. Delighted for this conversation with his hero.

With a smile on your lips you leant against the doorframe and watched the scenery. Bucky was obviously still weak and tired yet you could still see the amusement in his eyes. It meant a lot for him that this boy admired him. While there’s certainly a lot of respect from Peter’s side, there’s not a bit of fear, just honest curiosity.

As soon as Peter noticed you he said a quick goodbye to Bucky and wished him a good recovery, then he hurried out of the room, leaving the both of you alone.

Bucky meets your eyes and you just stopped, and of course you couldn’t help but admire the loving and tender expression in his beautiful blue eyes.

“Hey there,” you whispered softly.

“Hi, doll.”

Slowly you made your way to sit on the edge of his bed. “Peter’s an adorable kid, isn’t he?”

A small laugh escaped his lips and made your heart beat double.

“Indeed, he is. I like his spirit.”

A moment of silence occurred in which the both of you just looked at each other.

“You quite scared me there, Buck,” you then stated, not trusting you voice to speak any louder than a whisper.

“Yeah, I didn't expect to return to you this way, either.”

“How are you feeling?” You placed a hand on his right cheek. “And now please be honest.”

Bucky took a deep breath before he closed his eyes and put his own hand on top of yours. “I’m feeling way better than you think, doll. Don’t be concerned.”

You frowned in astonishment. He’s got nerves. “Don’t be concerned? Love, you’ve just been hit by a bullet. You have cuts and bruises and burns all over your body! How can I not be concerned? Why - why are you looking at me like that?”

He was looking at you in a way as if he didn’t hear a word you just said. Bucky just laid there, smiling, while he lifted a hand to your cheek and gently struck it.

“I’ve missed you.”

Bucky moved to sat up halfway and you just opened your mouth to protest to no move or the stitched will reopen, when he was already pulling you in to a soft kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut and as always your whole body and mind said good night.

“Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them all day,” he murmured in between your lips.

Then don’t stop, was all you wanted to say, but you realized his health was more important right now. So you removed yourself a little and wanted to look reproachfully but honestly you couldn’t help with this man. “You’re still looking rather pale, love, you should stay in bed for a while. I’ll bring you food.”

But the moment you let go of him he pulled you further down again so you were now leaning against his side.

Immediately you protested. “You’re injured, Buck. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m still fit enough for this,” he replied cheeky while laying his arm around you. Snuggling into him, always careful not to hurt him somehow, you were about to close your eyes and just enjoy this moment, when a chuckle made you rip them open again.

Peter stood in the door frame, a mischief grin on his face.

“Oh, and Mr. Bucky?

Your eyebrow looks lit, by he way!”

[modecaisnow]

Halloween: Quinn

**18 years or older only!!! This story contains themes of: extreme male weight gain, magic, very very brief mentions of sweat. The gaining that occurs is purely fantasy and unrealistic, continue at your own enjoyment.**

Quinn, a typical male ‘pretty boy,’ has put off finding a halloween costume until the last minute! After hours of scouring different halloween stores, he stumbles upon a strange ‘pop-up’ shop that has just the outfit he’s looking for - a sumo costume. This night certainly will be one he’ll remember forever!

Quinn was the standard ‘pretty boy’ that everyone admired. At just over 6 feet tall (185.42cm) and 190 pounds of lean muscle (86.2kg), he looked like he belonged on the cover of a health and fitness magazine. The jawline that highlighted the shape of his face could cut granite. Thick, short black hair, along with his evenly tanned, olive skin and deep hazel eyes, all only seemed to make him more desirable to those around him. Quinn was soft on the eyes and had a personality to match – except for one flaw. He loved most people, and was always quite agreeable, however, having grown up a little ‘husky’ – he managed to build a harsh resentment for anyone overweight.

“Fuck,” Quinn muttered under his breath as he pulled his truck into a parking spot. He shut off the vehicle and looked across the empty lot at the pop-up Halloween store. Quinn sighed despairingly and continued, “This place better have it!”

Quinn was not the best at planning. He knew he had to buy a Halloween costume for quite some time, but he procrastinated until the last minute to find one. Quinn only had a few hours left before the party and this store was his last chance to get the costume he really wanted – a sumo wrestler belt.

The handsome man pulled out his car key and climbed down from his truck. He speedily rushed across the empty parking lot and into the store. The little bell above the door chimed as he rushed in. The sound echoed for a moment before dissipating into silence. Quinn looked around – the storehouse was empty.

“Hello?” Quinn said as he began to wander around.

He walked across the rows of aisles. The fluorescent lights flickered and buzzed above him as he scanned his surroundings. Silence filled the cold air that wafted around him. The shelves were lined with costumes ranging from wolf-men, lumberjacks, gorillas, and other cliché costumes. A shiver ran down Quinn’s back as he felt as if someone was watching him.

“H-Hello? Anyone workin’ here? I’m looking for a sumo wrestler costume!” Quinn yelled once again.

Before giving up hope, Quinn heard a door open in the back of the store and a thickened wheeze for air. The loud footsteps pounded the dirty, checker-pattern tiled floor. Quinn heard the heavy footsteps get louder and louder as someone got closer. Slowly, Quinn rounded the corner and crept his way to the aisle it was coming from. Out of the darkness from the back of the store came a morbidly obese man, easily several times the size of Quinn.

“Jesu-“ Quinn quickly stopped himself before he could finish muttering what he was about to say.

The man was wearing an old, tattered shirt, and massive sweatpants, but both were not large enough to fully cover his immense size. Love handles sank down from under his shirt, and nearly a foot of doughy flesh was exposed at the front, revealing the indent where his deep belly button was. Quinn tried his best not to gasp or marvel at the man’s titanic stature.

“So… Ye want… a sumo… wrestler outfit… do ye?” The man’s voice itself even sounded fat. He was taking up the entire width of the store’s aisle, standing in the middle of it, his huge thighs brushed against the cold shelves. The man smirked across to Quinn.

The floor trembled as the man continued to waddle closer and closer. The items on the shelves shook forcefully and nearly fell off the hooks as his thighs smacked against them. The man continued to pant and wheeze with his mouth drooped open. Two, fattened nipples were poking out from under his tight shirt. The man’s knees were hidden away by mounds of hip and thigh fat that had oozed down his legs like melted nacho cheese. The vast belly that hung low in front of him swung as his thighs pushed against it to step forward.

“Y-Y-Yes, please. I looked everywhere. I went to every store. They’re nowhere to be found!” Quinn pleaded.

“Well,” The man panted for air and continued, “I got one left… but it might not be right fo ye…”

Quinn started to walk closer to the massively obese man. As he approached, Quinn was increasingly intimidated by how colossal this man was. Quinn looked up at the man’s plump, rounded face, and replied, “Please! I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll make sure it fits!”

The man smacked the sides of his gut. It rippled under his palms and between his fat fingers. The smack sounded almost wet. Quinn winced slightly and watched as the obese, blubbery chest heaved up and down for air. The man smiled, and Quinn was able to see his sauce-stained teeth.

“I ain’t sure… about it… I mean… why would a good lookin’ bloke… like yerself… want to be a sumo wrestler?”

“It’s… It’s for the irony-“ Quinn honestly replied half under his breath. He hoped deep down the man wouldn’t take offense to it.

“What is that… supposed to mean?”

“I-I-I’m not a big guy… and so it is funny to be a… sumo wrestler…” Quinn quickly trailed off and slowly stopped talking; realizing that his words came out worse than he’d meant them to.

The man just smirked creepily and shrugged his fat shoulders. The series of fat chins that had hidden away the man’s neck squeezed together as he peered down at Quinn. The man reached on the shelf next to him. He pulled out a comically large sumo wrestler’s belt. It was white and had strands of fabric that draped down in the front and the rear. He reached out his fat-engulfed arm to Quinn and passed it to him.

“Y-You’re right… it might be a little bit too big!” Quinn mentioned.

“It adjusts,” The obese man muttered. “One size… fits all.”

The gargantuan man finalized the deal by charging Quinn $5 for the mawashi. Quinn then rushed out of the store and back to his car. Quinn threw the sumo belt onto his passenger seat and drove home faster than ever before. Once home he grabbed the costume and ran inside. He nearly jumped up the stairs and into his bedroom where he closed the door and looked at the mawashi.

Quinn furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at the clothing. It looked somewhat smaller in his hands. It was still clean and white but felt oddly warm in his grip. Before he could think anything was strange, Quinn decided to try it on.

The male model stripped out of his clothing. His toned, slim waist and perky rear flexed as he stepped into the sumo belt and pulled it up. To his surprise, the mawashi felt snug and constricted against all the important parts that needed to be covered. Quinn tried to reach down into the front of the belt to fix his package but quickly realized the garment was too tight. His hand could not fit between the waistband and his pelvis. Quinn shook his legs and squat down to adjust himself, but the mawashi did not seem to budge. He looked at himself in the mirror and shrugged his shoulders.

In the mirror – he liked what he saw. His toned body had filled out the mawashi in the best way possible. Quinn’s tight, bubble butt was nicely covered in the back, and his muscular pelvic region was also graciously covered in the front. He then walked into his bathroom to get himself ready for the evening.

The model’s vanity caused him to take hours to get ready for the party. Not one hair was to be left out of place, his skin needed to be moisturized and free of all blemishes and imperfections. Quinn looked at himself in the mirror and felt a subtle tingling sensation from under the mawashi. He lazily scratched at it and noticed his finger sink into his pelvis.

“What the…” Quinn trailed off as he looked down and saw his torso was rounder.

A soft, doughy belly expanded outward from his once muscular torso. The fat on his pelvis even began to swell within the tight sumo belt. Quinn looked over his shoulder and watched his bubble butt slowly expand and fill outward. The lard that piled onto his ass sagged downward due to gravity and splayed outward. The fabric of the belt was engulfed between the two rounded ass cheeks.

He rushed from the bathroom to the full-length mirror in his bedroom. As he passed through the doorframe, he felt his soft shoulders and widened hips brush against the wood. Ripples shook across his heavy body. Quinn’s jaw dropped as he stood in the mirror and watched helplessly as his frame filled out all over.

The floor groaned as he continued to swell with lard. His thighs started to squeeze against each other. Expanding sacks of flesh quickly took over Quinn’s legs, getting rid of any muscular definition he had worked hard to obtain. His thighs rubbed together as he tried to walk around – forcing him to waddle comically. Soon his knees were engulfed in lard and hidden under sagging rolls of flesh.

Quinn gasped as his hips continued to swell out wider, forcing him to take a few steps back to get a full view of his broad, girthy body in the mirror. The definition on his legs was completely gone, and all he was left with was a series of stacked mounds of blubber that flopped down heavily.

Quinn’s hips undulated in large waves as he widened his stance and tried to steady himself to accommodate his continued growth. His belly expanded and flopped down over his crotch. The mawashi slowly began to get covered by Quinn’s sloshing gut. As it continued to grow, the piles of lard folded inward under their own size, creating a series of rolls on Quinn’s torso.

His stomach rumbled loudly as it stretched out more with no signs of stopping. The asymmetrical, doughy surface of his gut rolled down over his thighs and towards his knees. Love handles formed on his sides and caused more crevasses to form on his fat frame. The folds continued to expand across the landscape of his belly. Quinn’s deep belly button eventually caved inward as blubber expanded beneath it, which created a ‘double-belly’ look.

The growing blob’s rear enlarged to colossal portions. It sagged low behind him and flopped heavily against the back of his cumbersome thighs. Mounds of back fat began to flop over the top of his ass cheeks, which surged upward. With every subtle movement, Quinn could see his pear-shaped frame ripple and wobble. The two globes of ass fat rose and fell with each step. Given the titanic width of his frame, Quinn was able to see the corpulent ass cheeks spill off to the sides while he stood in front of the mirror.

Quinn’s arms grew heavier and spilled out over the sides of his expanding torso. His once muscular biceps were now soft, doughy pillows that sagged down over his thickened chest fat and rested on his love handles. Quinn’s fat moobs splayed over the sides of his growing belly. Thick, pepperoni nipples pointed downward off the sides of his mountainous belly as his moobs expanded to a size that no shirt of his could ever contain.

The floor continued to groan painfully beneath the growing landscape of lard. Quinn panted for air as standing became too much effort. He waddled backward to park his fat ass down on the bed for a moment. The smack from his ass cheeks sounded like someone was slapping a bag of pudding. The globular rear rippled in thick waves. Quinn broke into a sweat as he collapsed onto the bed. The tsunami of gelatinous beef immediately squashed the mattress. His moobs and belly sloshed up and smacked against his chins and then sloshed back down. The immense weight caused the frame to crack and snap.

-CRACK-THUD-

Quinn’s bed collapsed to the floor, causing his entire body to slosh heavily. After waiting a few moments to catch his breath, Quinn slowly rolled over to his side. To do so, he needed to rock and gain momentum for his huge, lumbering belly to roll. Quinn then slowly inched himself up into a seated position with his fat legs stretched out onto the floor.

The extremely obese man’s wide hips spilled outward and forced his love handles to also roll to the sides. Quinn widened his stance, trying to spread his thighs far enough apart to let his belly spill between his knees. His chest heaved as Quinn huffed for air. Sacks of blubber that covered his torso made his rib cage feel heavy. Before standing up, he was distracted by his reflection in the mirror.

The newly corpulent man was unrecognizable. His Adonis-like face was now trapped under piles of flab. On both sides of his fat lips were large heaps of fat that sagged down onto his neck – hiding his previously prominent cheekbones. The once muscular neck had become a tire of lard and stacks of flab formed his chins. Quinn’s chest heaved as he panted for air. He reached his hand out to see if it was all real – and it was.

His fingers, which were now fattened to the size of dinner sausages, sank deep into his ocean of fat. The chubby arms weighed down heavily as uneven mounds of blubber sagged down from all over his appendages. His upper arm and shoulder had become indistinguishable from each other – now a wide, rippling dune of flesh. Quinn attempted to lift his hands all the way up, he still felt lard slump against his moob fat.

Quinn dropped his arms, letting them smack against his girthy frame. While he tried to catch his breath, the obese model lazily rubbed his hands across the landscape of fat. Quinn felt the mawashi dig into his ass crack and strain to contain his fat pad that now completely swallowed his crotch. Quinn was easily over 900 pounds (408kg).

“Fuck…” Quinn wheezed for air, “…How do I… explain… this?”

The growth seemed to stop for a few moments, while Quinn caught his breath. This was still a lot to take in – his mind was rushing, and his heart beating out of his chest. Quinn hated fat and loathed everything about it. He was beginning to get flustered imagining what others would think of him. Fear and shame washed through his gelatinous frame.

Eventually, he decided to get up – he had a party to attend. Quinn rationalized that he could probably convince everyone it was part of his costume. He planted his fat feet firmly against the wooden floorboards and widened his stance. He tried to place his hands on his knees, but his belly and arm fat limited his mobility. Quinn heaved and rocked as he built up enough momentum to lurch up onto his swollen feet.

“There… we… go…” Quinn panted aloud.

As Quinn approached the door, he noticed his eyes were now level with the top of the frame. Without thinking, he ducked his head down and the flab on his chins sank and squeezed into the warm, doughy sack-like waterbed of chest fat. With his flabby shoulders and torso through the frame, he felt the sides of the frame dig into his wide hips. Quinn moved and wiggled his body as much as physically possible.

Quinn gasped and tried to continue waddling forward, but his huge thighs were fighting over space in the doorframe. Sweat dribbled down his fat face. Quinn’s blubbery cheeks turned red as he exerted all the energy he could to squeeze through.

Quinn wheezed and panted as he leaned forward, his fat ass cheeks pressed together and rose up as they oozed through the frame. He tried to clench his butt cheeks together to help, but the vast quantity of blubber was too thick. Fat hands smacked against both sides of the doorframe and Quinn pushed against the walls.

The wall groaned as more rolls of flab oozed out. Love-handles squeezed and flopped through. The hills and valleys of flesh sagged freely as more of the landscape made it through the frame. Finally, Quinn popped out and stomped into the hallway. He leaned against the wall to regain his balance and catch his breath. Quinn looked to his right and noticed the bathroom door. He turned the handle and opened the door. Inside, he looked at the mirror and was startled by the sight.

“Jesus! Is that…me?” He yelped.

Quinn thought for a moment, then rubbed his eyes. He could not believe it – he was still growing. This could not have been real. He continued down the hallway, the widening hips crashed against the sides of the walls like ocean waves against a rocky shore. The mountain of blubber slowly stomped down the steps. The mawashi continued to be engulfed by swelling lard as Quinn continued to expand. He panted louder and gasped for air as his legs slowly weakened. The stairs creaked and snapped under his fat feet.

The morbidly obese man’s fat legs were forced to fight against the gelatinous apron-like belly to waddle forward. Luckily, gravity did most of the work as he made his way down the stairs. Floppy love-handles spilled over his widened hips and oozed over the railings just as Quinn made it down the last step.

Finally, Quinn stood at the front door. He debated putting on shoes but realized it was futile – he could not even see his feet. Quinn panted and wheezed for air as he took a few moments to plan out what he would do at the party. In the meantime, his hairy fat pad started to swell around the front strap of his mawashi, almost engulfing it. From the front, the gelatinous fat pad looked like two hairy lips that splayed around the tight fabric. Quinn slowly started to feel his heavy rear-end press against the banisters.

“Fuck…it!” Quinn panted.

He swung the door open and twisted his frame as much as physically possible. The wood managed to snag against portions of his arm fat and held them back. Quinn pushed his arms outward and felt his blubbery appendage rub against the frame as it extended freely. Once his arms were through, Quinn was able to shove them against the sides of the walls – following the same technique as earlier. Trick-or-treaters ogled and gawked at the nearly immobile glutton.

Quinn panted and wheezed; his face turned bright red as he noticed a small crowd beginning to form. He continued to try and maneuver his bloated body through the doorway. Both of his fat nipples managed to flop out from the frame, and they splayed freely over the crest of his belly. The crowd gasped. Roll after roll of belly fat oozed out and inched lower on his body.

Once his belly spilled out freely, it was already large enough to sag down over the front of his claves. People began to approach him and offer to help. Quinn reached out his hands and some of the men grabbed onto him and pulled. Unfortunately, his pear shape had grown and expanded to the point where his hips were far too wide for the frame.

One of the men quickly ran off and returned with an axe to break down the wall on both sides of the door. Quinn was more than embarrassed, but all he could think about was sitting down and catching his breath. People were positioned all around him, and they continued to pull and grab at his fat body. Hands sank into piles of flesh across his vast landscape of blubber. Men tugged on rolls and others hoisted up portions of his belly fat. Quinn’s fingers swelled to the point where it was difficult to bend them, which made it hard for people to grab and pull. His back fat started to rise up against the top of the doorframe.

-THWACK-CRASH-THWACK-CRASH-THWACK-CRASH-

The neighbor began to break down the wooden siding. This was to create a large hole for Quinn to ooze out of – similar to what Firemen do for people Quinn’s size when they need to be transported. After a few more swings, the siding was torn down in chunks. Quinn was freed. The ocean of blubber wobbled unreservedly. Ankle fat began to inch over the top of his feet. Quinn’s thighs had become hidden away under a gigantic landscape of belly fat that extended down to his calves. The widened hips looked like a series of sagging fleshy rolls.

Quinn panted and wheezed. The crowd that had formed around him looked up at the large, gluttonous blob. He appeared naked to them, but the sumo belt had been completely engulfed in blubber. From behind, the view was no better. The back of the mawashi had become absorbed between his cavernous ass crack.

“I must…get to… the party…” Quinn’s fattened voice boomed over the crowd.

A man approached him and replied, “I can drive you. I have a truck.”

Several men had positioned themselves around the nearly immobilized, growing hog. They grabbed handfuls of blubber and hoisted it upward to take some of the weight off of Quinn. He lifted his arms and allowed for two men to situate themselves under them. The men grunted loudly as Quinn lowered his arms, and blubber spilled across the men’s shoulders and heads. With the help of the men, Quinn managed to wobble and waddle forward. His belly was about a foot from the ground and swayed powerfully. The curtain of fat almost knocked several of the men away from their positions around him.

The truck groaned and creaked under his girth. Immense poundage had forced the wheels to distort against the cold asphalt. The truck bed warped as Quinn planted his fat ass down onto it. The siding of the vehicle dug into his gelatinous hips, part of which had spilled over the top of the rim. The driver sat down in the truck and looked out the back window. Two, hairy globes of ass fat had completely blocked his view out of the back. The rear windows creaked loudly as Quinn’s blubbery posterior was piled high against it.

The drive was not as bad as Quinn had expected. It was nice to be resting and sitting, and the night air felt good against his fat body. His nipples hardened as the cold breeze slithered between the crevasses in his fat. Each small bump in the road sent his flabby, gelatinous body rippling and wobbling. Once at the party, the driver managed to back into the driveway, and Quinn felt the growth slow until it completely stopped. People looked out the window of the house and gasped at the sight they saw.

“I’ll go see who it is!” Chet yelled inside as he opened the front door.

Chet walked over to the truck. As he approached, the sound of panting and wheezing got louder. He looked up at the ocean of fat piled high in the truck bed. Quinn was too embarrassed to say anything at first, but Chet did not even seem to recognize him – or recognize Quinn as human.

Chet walked to the cab and said to the driver, “What the fuck is that? I didn’t order a mountain of… whatever that is… Is that gelatin or like a shit ton of ham?”

A moment of silence passed, and Quinn finally built up the strength to speak.

“Hey! Chet, it’s me…You like it? I’m a sumo!”

“…Who…wait…that voice…Quinn! Quinn is that you?” Chet gasped as he rushed back to the immobile tub of lard piled high in the truck bed.

“Yep! It’s me… you like… my costume?”

Chet immediately grinned and leaped with joy. He began to comment on how realistic Quinn’s costume looked. Chet was immediately impressed by the details – the fat nipples, the sweat, the hair, the inhuman-size, and the many rippling folds of blubber that felt warm to the touch. Quinn’s fat face turned red. Chet opened his garage door and helped the driver to back into the garage so Quinn could join the party. The newly extremely obese ex-model smiled. He didn’t have to tell them the truth, not yet at least. Besides, he had a party to enjoy first.

[fantastic-bby]

Books & Poems I love

Hello, I am just dumping my favourite books and poems here because I like them and I want people to read them too bcs they're cool. Disclaimer: I haven't read some of these books in a REALLY long time, so the explanations might be a bit off since this is mostly what I remember from when I had read them. All will be under the cut and I hope someone out there finds these as enjoyable as I do!

Books

1. Huntress by Malinda Lo

Nature is out of balance in the human world. The sun hasn’t shone in years, and crops are failing. Worse yet, strange and hostile creatures have begun to appear. The people’s survival hangs in the balance.

To solve the crisis, the oracle stones are cast, and Kaede and Taisin, two seventeen-year-old girls, are picked to go on a dangerous and unheard-of journey to Tanlili, the city of the Fairy Queen. Taisin is a sage, thrumming with magic, and Kaede is of the earth, without a speck of the otherworldly. And yet the two girls’ destinies are drawn together during the mission. As members of their party succumb to unearthly attacks and fairy tricks, the two come to rely on each other and even begin to fall in love. But the Kingdom needs only one huntress to save it, and what it takes could tear Kaede and Taisin apart forever.

I cannot express how much I adore this book. It's so well-written and the entire book feels like such an adventure to read. I have to warn everyone who will read this that it is quite violent. I also love the WLW inclusion which is carried throughout the story. It's also mentioned in the beginning that Kaede does not want to marry a prince because she could never marry a man. It's filled with lots of romance and it's fantasy because I'm a sucker for fantasy reads.

My sister had bought this book for me after I had lost my first copy and my cat peed on my second copy. The first time, I had bought it from a Big Bad Wolf sale in about 2014. The second, I ordered it through Kinokuniya, but I'm pretty sure you can get it off of Amazon as well.

2. Teardrop by Lauren Kate

Never, ever cry . . .

Seventeen-year-old Eureka won't let anyone close enough to feel her pain. After her mother was killed in a freak accident, the things she used to love hold no meaning. She wants to escape, but one thing holds her back: Ander, the boy who is everywhere she goes, whose turquoise eyes are like the ocean.

And then Eureka uncovers an ancient tale of romance and heartbreak, about a girl who cried an entire continent into the sea. Suddenly her mother's death and Ander's appearance seem connected, and her life takes on dark undercurrents that don't make sense.

Can everything you love be washed away?

This is also a book that I've read multiple times. I've even read the sequel, Waterfall, but I don't think I actually got around to finishing it since I bought it right before my exams. Another love and fantasy novel, it covers a lot of grieving and pain that Eureka goes through after losing her mother and at one point, she actually wishes it was her that had died during the accident.

Her relationship with Ander is quite sudden since he just shows up out of nowhere and just happens to know practically everything about her. I, personally, enjoy this book out of the amount of angst that it's filled with. It's very well-written and I still have the first copy that I bought at the same Big Bad Wolf sale that I had gotten Huntress. I think I had gotten the sequal at Kinokuniya as well (?), but I'm not entirely sure because it's been a really long time.

3. Shatter Me by Tahereh Mafi

No one knows why Juliette's touch is fatal, but The Reestablishment has plans for her. Plans to use her as a weapon. But Juliette has plans of her own. After a lifetime without freedom, she's finally discovering a strength to fight back for the very first time--and to find a future with the one boy she thought she's lost forever.

Another very angsty book. It centres around Juliette, a girl who, for some reason, kills everyone she touches. It's also written in First POV and in the format of a journal. It feels more personal because some of the lines are striked through to show a thought that Juliette had in the moment of writing that she decided to replace with a different approach instead.

The beginning is basically Juliette being locked away in some sort of a prison because of her 'gift' and she writes to keep herself from going crazy, but then one day some guy is put into the same cell as her. It's another romance novel and also a kind of superhero novel It also gets pretty... ahem... seggsy... at one point, but it's a good read.

I've read the entire series aside from Restore Me. I have it, but I haven't gotten around to reading it yet. Shatter Me is also from the same Big Bad Wolf sale as the other two lol. Juliette is also trapped in a love triangle at one point, but I won't get into it. It also gets a bit violent, but slightly less graphic than Huntress is and is also another 'self-discover' kinda book. (can you see a theme here that I read lol)

4. Winter's End by Jean-Claude Mourlevat

Four teenagers escape from their prison-like boarding schools to take up the fight against the tyrannical government that murdered their parents fifteen years earlier. But only three of the friends make it safely to Jahn's restaurant, the headquarters of a secret resistance movement, where they discover the astonishing power that one voice can have in the fight for freedom.

As the battle rages, the three friends are in a race against time to save their companion, who has been forced to participate in a deadly, ancient game for the amusement of his captors. Will this new generation prevail, or are they destined to meet the same grisly fate as their parents?

This is also extremely angsty. It's also pretty violent as well, so that's a warning for whoever will read this. Once again, well-written, nice flow to the story and I just really like this book. There's a lot of uncovering in the book that makes you go HUH because the four students end up uncovering a lot about their government and the secrets that involve the four of them.

It has a very heavy dark tone to it, which I really enjoy. It's a bit different from the other three which is less fantasy and more of a dystopian book. It's a very heroic, determination feeling that follows the students as they journey throughout the book. Also something that follows the students are a group of dog-men... things... that I'm pretty sure I actually had small nightmares imagining when I had read this in around 2013 or 2014.

Poems

Disclaimer: Half of these were poems I did essays on in high school aside from L. These are my illustrations of it and they're the ones that stood out to me when I had first read them.

1. Daffodils by William Wordsworth

I read this in high school when I was taking English Literature. It's a poem that Wordsworth wrote after his wife had passed away. I love the way it's written and William Wordsworth is one of my favourite poets. It's filled with the feeling of being lost and rediscovering the joys of the small things in life. There's a lot of imagery that refers to the flower, daffodil, and overall, it's just a a very soft themed poem.

I think the reason this poem stood out to me was because I was feeling a bit lost at the time I read it (the end of highschool) and I was desperately trying to find something I could relate to in some way.

2. Winter by Andrew Young

Another one that contains a lot of imagery. It's a poem about the beauty of Winter and how, while it's seen as a dark and gloomy season, it has hidden beauties that you can see if you're able to look past the initial image of it.

This poem in particular, I'm pretty sure I have a soft spot for in my heart mainly because of the soft spot I have for Winter in general.

3. London by William Blake

This is a more dark toned poem. It covers what old London used to be like with the raging poverty at the time. A lot of child labour and sex workers that would struggle with making money when they would accidentally get pregnant.

It's quite a depressing poem that I like because of the dark undertone and I, personally, really enjoy William Blake's works.

4. L by Bernice Chauly

L is a poem about how her daughter had cut her hair right after going to the hairdressers. While Chauly's daughter is crying when she yells at her, Chauly is reminded of when she had done something similar when she had just turned five years old. She thinks back to it and remembers that, at the time, all she wanted was to see her late father.

This is also more heavy set and it makes me think of the way children must feel when they lose their parents at such young ages.

[sendnotes]

books i read in april.

this is going to be my thing from now on. i'll compile a list of all the books i read in a month and share my thoughts on each one every end of the month.

just so you know, i'm a little forgetful, and i have a tendency to forget names, plots, and other details. i'm hoping that writing these will aid my memory in recalling how i felt about each novel.

you can also find me on goodreads

so, let’s begin, shall we?

101 essays that will change the way you think (wiest, brianna)

self-help book

this book got off to a good start! some of the essays written (or should i say a collection of articles originally published on the thoughtcatalog website) made me think and consider my outlook on life, love, and so on.

the title overstates the case though. when i think of an essay, i picture something more argumentative and philosophical. not to mention that the majority of the ideas in this book are redundant. it made it difficult to get through. nonetheless, i was able to get past it because there were so many fantastic concepts and topics discussed.

overall, it's an interesting & worthwhile read for those who enjoy thinking outside the box.i lost count of how many times this book gave me aha moments. i swear, most of the entries soothed my mind and provided a great pick-me-up when life seemed to be frustrating.

the midnight library (haig, matt)

science fiction, fantasy fiction, psychological fiction

regrets, self-remorse, what ifs, family approval, drugs, dreams, love, passion, hatred, death, afterlife, multiverses, quantum physics, and a plethora of possibilities packed into a 304-page book.

i'll be honest: this book is already on my list of favorites. i'm simply blown away by how well-crafted and diverse the entire story unfolded.

a sci-fi novel with a dash of fantasy and a smidgeon of philosophy. if that's your thing, you should give this book a shot.

the first few pages of the book gave me an impression and led me to surmise it was going to be a cheesy ass chick lit novel that i'd only read and find enjoyable in high school. i was completely off base. it proved to be very mature, full of lessons, but delivered in a fun and entertaining manner— exactly my cup of tea.

it reminded me of a disney pixar film called soul, in which the afterlife is depicted in vivid detail. they differ on so many levels, but they both imagine life after death for people who are unsure of their path, purpose, and passion.

every chapter served a significant concept, so this book is well-deserved of a 5-star rating!

norwegian wood (murakami, haruki)

fiction, romance novel, bildungsroman

as i read the book and neared the end, all i could think about was how this book became one of murakami's most popular and influential works.

murakami offers a sprawling glimpse into the lives of a group of severely damaged youths grappling with the realities of what emptiness entails. take what you will from it.

i know a lot of people like it, which is fine. but please keep in mind that this book hit me square in the gut. it alternated between making me angry, sad, annoyed, and disgusted almost constantly. there isn't much else.

this book should come with a warning: "this is not a good place to start if you're new to murakami's works. this is not a representative of murakami's brilliance."

fist and foremost, the characters in this book are all repulsive.

toru watanabe was a fuckboy and a softboy rolled into one. what could possibly be worse than that? he'd have as many casual sexual partners as he could while also buttering a girl up by appealing to her emotions and displaying a "sensitive" and "vulnerable" side.

this book was made even more depressing by the fact that each female character was needy, weak, dysfunctional, and dependent. since they're all the same, i'm not going to go over each of these female characters one by one. you already get the idea.

reiko ishida, imo, was one of the best rendered sections of the novel. most likely because she had a better grasp on her emotions and goals than the still seeking youths... until, *spoiler alert* she wanted to do it with toru as well. a big disappointment.

to summarize, this book is primarily concerned with two topics: sex and death.

hidden meanings are everywhere, but when you get to the core, that's all that remains.

the four agreements: a practical guide to personal freedom (ruiz, miguel)

self-help book

first agreement ⏤ be impeccable with your word

this essentially means that you should not spew gossip or use words to harm others. because words have tremendous power and can cause significant harm. you are not only negatively affecting others with your hateful and thoughtless words, but you are also hurting yourself. this is something with which i generally agree. how i see it, when people are unhappy with themselves, they turn to others to make themselves feel better. as a result, they gossip about others in order to divert attention away from themselves.

second agreement ⏤don't take anything personally

alright. sure. don't let what others say about you bother you. it has everything to do with them and nothing to do with you. well, i don't entirely agree, but i think it's a fantastic idea in general. however, achieving this goal will be extremely difficult. i believe it would take a lot of practice to reach this level of zen. plus, i honestly believe that other people's opinions still matter because they keep you in check. the best advice is to not be swayed by these opinions, but to consider why they were expressed in the first place. see what you can do to improve yourself from there. sure, it can be difficult to deal with; after all, no one likes being told they're wrong or whatnot. but it's not all bad news because you can sometimes use criticism and judgment to give you a competitive edge. i mean- don't you think hearing someone else's point of view is also an opportunity to learn and progress? ruiz should have stressed that it's not just about "not taking it personally because you know you're not that person," but also about not retaliating with an extreme knee-jerk reaction even if you believe you're being unfairly criticized.

third agreement ⏤ don't make assumptions

this is a real eye-opener for me. i've noticed that whenever i become enraged by someone's words, it's usually due to my tendency to assume. personally, i can't help but make assumptions. i don't know what other people's motivations are, and i can't help but draw conclusions based on the information i have. even if the other person had no intention of causing me harm, it's too late. the thought has become ingrained in my mind, and i never ask for clarification out of pride or fear of appearing overly sensitive.

fourth agreement ⏤ always do your best

this section did not seem particularly useful to me. i mean, aren't we all reminded of this all the time? this section is filled with sloppy writing, in my opinion. as if he badly wanted to finish the book and impulsively thought: "okay, fourth agreement: always do your best. that should suffice. lmao"

overall opinion: the third agreement was my favorite, but the rest were a no-go. don't get me wrong, i appreciated his ideas, but i've heard them all a hundred times before. basically, the book's sole takeaway is that we are all suffering in some way in our daily lives, and we are all dealing with different issues. regardless, we all need to be kinder and gentler to ourselves and others.

the song of achilles (miller, madeline)

romance novel, historical Fiction, war story

i'll keep it short and sweet:

i really wouldn't have had this book any other way. miller's writing is breathtaking, so rich and full of lovely detail. it's incredibly a unique concept to me that authors are rewriting such ancient history and stories to make them lgbt+!

some suggest it's tedious, but i disagree. it isn't slow; rather, it is just right.

'cause at the end of the day, it's not about war, tragedy, or heroes - it's a slow-burning, organic love tale between two young men and their inevitable connection.

it's sad, tender, and painful, but in the best way possible.

circe (miller, madeline)

novel, historical fiction, fantasy fiction

"greek mythology, but with a feminist twist"?! sign me the hell up! this piqued my interest... only to leave me feeling completely let down. seriously now. circe was described as a "badass empowered woman," which was the single most compelling selling point for me, and thus the most wrenching disappointment, i must say.

sure, it demonstrated the value of feminine power, but it also did represent how this power can be a force of good or evil.

not to mention the fact that circe fucked a married man or two in this book- i mean- how is that an ~empowered woman~?

let's be clear right off the bat: madeline miller's follow-up to the song of achilles is epic in scope but not necessarily in execution. to me, this read more like a tedious island tale. regardless of how many five-star reviews this book has received... i just don't think it's well-deserved. don't get me wrong here. miller is a fantastic author with a lush writing! istg- i'm blown away by how beautifully she wrote and carefully chose her words. even the most mundane phrases were written poetically. after-all, it’s greek mythology. but how did she manage to make circe seem so... bland?

[ordinaryschmuck]

Top 20 BEST Animated Series of the 2010s-13th place

What happens when you mix Looney Tunes' quality of animation with Spongebob Squarepants' weirdness and the creativity of a Dr. Suess book?

You get yet another underrated cartoon in the last decade. That’s what.

#13-Wander Over Yonder (2013-2016)

The Plot: A wandering weirdo named Wander and his best friend/protector/noble steed Sylvia travels the galaxy, sharing kindness and spreading the message that it never hurts to help everywhere they go. But in their quest, they must face dangerous villains such as Lord Hater and his army of watchdogs (The watchdogs aren’t what you think they are). Will the villainous Lord Hater destroy Wander and his attempts to spread happiness, or will Wonder make Hater his new pal? I don’t know. The show got canceled after a second season. Still, I think it’s the best bet on it being a yes.

The one thing about a show like Wander Over Yonder is that it is nothing like most shows you will find on this list. And I can sum up those reasons into four categories: story, comedy, characters, and animation.

Let’s start with the story because, until season two, there really isn’t one. It remains as a somewhat episodic show where the continuity is nearly non-existent. Occasionally a character will bring up an old event, or an old villain will reappear. But a viewer doesn’t need a full understanding of every episode to watch a single episode. Even when the show begins to have a story arc in season two, knowledge of previous events isn’t entirely essential to enjoy the episode you’re currently watching. Because while the prior information may add to the enjoyment, it never takes it away. In fact, Wander Over Yonder may just be the first show to change its technique of storytelling while still remaining true to its roots. Mainly since its roots focused more on comedy than anything else.

Let me make one thing clear: Wander Over Yonder, above anything else, is a comedy. It’s not a comedy that slowly becomes a drama. It’s a show that balances comedy and drama, and it is certainly not a show that will take itself too seriously. Even in the more “serious” episodes, Wander Over Yonder makes a point to have people laugh first and make them cry later. In fact, the drama has more of an impact because viewers can build a connection through laughing with the characters, thus caring when they meet a moment that’s tragic and heartbreaking. And laugh they will because this show can be pretty funny at times. Keep in mind that it has a very random sense of humor, so maybe don’t get too excited if that isn’t your cup of tea. And even if it is, there is a small problem you need to be aware of about the show’s comedy. When a joke isn’t funny, there will be another joke not far behind to make up for the lack. However, there are times when the show lingers on a specific gag or even repeats the same exact one throughout the entire episode. And it is always painful to watch. This doesn’t happen often, and it isn’t that bad when done well, but even then, it can get a little annoying to fans of the show.

Speaking of a little annoying, let’s talk about our main character Wander. Wander is a character who strives to do the right thing no matter what the cost. When done well, a personality like that is admirable but can come across as annoying when done wrong. Wander is no exception. On the one hand, I honestly find his determination to do the right thing makes him a good role model for kids. And it’s not like he doesn’t have a reason for why he goes out of his way to help others. He genuinely does the right thing because it actually makes him feel good to help. However, that doesn’t change when Wander’s kind attitude can get a little out of hand. There are moments when he actually puts friends and civilizations in danger to do a good deed. Everything all works out in the end, but that doesn’t change how close things can get. Even worse, Wander rarely changes his approach to doing good deeds because the writers goes out of their way to prove him right. Whenever Wander has his good nature challenged or even taken advantage of, he still does the exact same thing a couple episodes later. Thankfully, he at least has a couple of good characters to bounce off of in his antics.

There are two characters in the show that Wander interacts with the most: Sylvia and Hater. Sylvia is Wander’s best friend and acts as the muscle/voice of reason to his Wanderness. Their overall interactions are either hilarious or downright heartwarming to watch. I especially love how Sylvia goes out of her way to keep Wander safe, as it shows a friendship that goes beyond farther than other best buddies in most shows on this list. In fact, they're more like a family that’s a mix between mother and son/brother and sister dynamic. However, while I love seeing Wander and Sylvia interact, that is nothing compared to seeing Wander and Hater together. These two have a rivalry that seems to be Spongebob and Squidward’s dynamic, treated as Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd's. It is funny to watch these two whenever they share a screen together, and it’s this interaction that brings out the best of Wander. He doesn’t ever want to hurt Hater, but it’s just Hater who mostly hurts himself. Wander also fully understands that Lord Hater is a villain but is driven by the belief that there’s some good inside those bones. But what surprises me is the fact that Lord Hater works well as a character even without Wander.

Wander Over Yonder does something I rarely see in which it has episodes that star both the heroes and the villains. Lord Hater is up there as one of the funniest incompetent villains within animated shows. His attempts to become the greatest in the galaxy never fails to make me laugh, as it pretty much lines up with Wile E Coyote's attempts to get the Road Runner. He will lose, and you know he’s going to no matter what, but it’s still hilarious to watch how. Hater gets even funnier when you compare him to Commander Peepers, who acts as Hater’s second in comand. Peepers is the logic to Hater’s fury and childishness, which presents a dynamic similar yet different to Wander and Sylvia’s. Which is another reason why I like how the show focuses on both the heroes and villains, as it makes the villains seem more like dynamic characters than most foes in other shows.

But none of this praise holds a candle to the show’s animation. Not only is it fluid and expressive, but the show has the underrated rubber hose style of animation that needs more love. Characters can pull random objects out of nowhere, survive the craziest of things, and seem to have their own form of gravity around them. In fact, it is Wander Over Yonder that showed me how rare this type of animation is. Most animated shows in the last decade seem to focus on looking realistic rather than looking like a cartoon. This is weird because one would think that more cartoons would aim to actually be more, well, cartoony. This is why Wander Over Yonder has some of the best animations out of most shows in the last decade, all because of it being unique. Even when the show goes through a noticeable downgrade in its second season, it is nowhere near as bad as Star V.S. the Forces of Evil. It’s still expressive and cartoony, but not just as fluid as it once was in season one.

However, despite all the praise I can give this show, you should remember it still got canceled. Was it because of bad writing? No. Was it because the animation was too expensive? Understandably so if it was, but no. Was it because of bad ratings? Well, it did get bad ratings, but apparently, that wasn’t the reason. Apparently, the reason was that Disney thought that only two seasons were enough. This is a shame because not only did it seem like the show was gaining ground by season two, but season three even promised to reveal some long-awaited backstories for the characters. Regardless, Disney still owns the show, and the decision to bring it back (that is, to say, if they’ll ever bring it back) is entirely up to them. 

Wander Over Yonder is not a perfect show. Compared to everything else in the last decade, I can see how most people won’t be as invested as others. But if you love episodic storytelling, random comedy, great dynamic characters, and some fantastic animation, then trust me when I say that it wouldn’t hurt to help to give this show a chance.

(Also, is it weird to anybody else that this isn’t on Disney+, yet? It’s on Hulu, but not Disney+ for some reason. It’s starting to get to the point where I think Disney’s ashamed of this show, which I don’t understand.)

[taexual]

HOLIC - 43 | jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: fluff with a hint of angst

words: 3.8k

           prev / next

It had gotten quite cold already, so you found yourself dressing in layers as you prepared for work the next day. You would later blame it all on your hangover, but you were already out of the door when you realized that the middle layer – the black hoodie you’d grabbed while still only half-wake – was none other than Jaebum’s hoodie that you’d worn once before already.

Thankfully, Eva was on sick leave so you weren’t likely to get scolded for violating the dress code again. Instead, you would, perhaps, manage to endure this day easier because, although washed and then worn by you, the hoodie still smelled undeniably of Jaebum’s cologne.

It was Tuesday today which meant that you were going to have to deal with high college students and rowdy middle-schoolers the whole day – just like any other day, really; except customers seemed especially vicious on Tuesdays – and, on top of all of that, Jiho was going to be at your gallery today, too. At this point, you weren’t really sure why he was still coming; surely, he’s already had every meeting possible in regards to his works getting exhibited here. You were almost convinced he was still here purely to make your life more miserable than it already was.

As always, you’d hoped to avoid him, and, as always, you failed when he waved you over almost as soon as you stepped inside of the gallery.

“There’s something I’d like you to do with me,” Jiho told you before you even took your coat off. He looked more excited than usual and you couldn’t help but find it suspicious. “It’s not really an event that’s specified in the contract but—well, I’m going up to the balcony to take some test pictures – those woods behind the building look fantastic – and I thought it’d be great if you came with me.”

“Is that going to count as progress towards getting my name more well-known?” you asked—and made him laugh—because you were absolutely not going to hang out with him just for the fun of it.

“Sure, yeah,” he nodded. “You don’t really photograph people, do you? You’re more of a nature photographer.”

“I guess so,” you shrugged. You have experimented with photographing people back in university and discovered that you preferred unmoving targets. Of course, that was before Jackson provided you with the opportunity to photograph his and Jaebum’s working session at the recording studio and you ended up falling in love with the end-result of that photoshoot. “But I’m open to anything in the future.”

“That is great!” Jiho said, moving to a side and pointing his hand towards the stairs. “This type of open-minded artists is precisely what our gallery needs. Let’s go.”

“Uh, I can’t leave the floor—”

“I already checked in with the other girls,” Jiho said, nodding his head towards one of your co-workers that was busy supervising an abandoned child – after the crayon fiasco, all of you were forced to double-task as nannies – and then smiled. “It’s completely fine for you to leave for a little bit.”

“Hmm,” you didn’t think it was fair to leave your workplace as soon as you arrived but, at the same time, you’d have gladly taken any excuse to do something other than deal with potential clients. You could feel guilty later. “Alright, fine. Can I ask you why you’re still here, though? I-I mean—”

Jiho laughed before you could explain. “I figured you’d ask that. I’m really only here to do a test run on something that might become a photoshoot location later. I’m still not convinced it’s the perfect spot, that’s why I drove over here today.”

“And, I assume you don’t need a model for that test run because I’m definitely not substituting for one,” you said, trying to stop your mind from conjuring up the memory of the first time you’d posed in front of his camera. “Oh, and I’m also assuming, you managed to get the key to the balcony because, in all of the time that I’ve worked here, I’ve never seen a single person go up there. Honestly, I thought that door was actually just a decoration.”

He was smiling as if he wanted to laugh again – clearly, your assumptions amused him to no end. At least one of you was having a good time here.

“I got the key from the administrator,” he explained. “He’s surprisingly kind if you bring him coffee with a bagel. No one likes to start working at seven.”

“Ah, so you bribed him.”

“That’s one way to put it,” he replied. “And as for the model, no. I don’t need one for a test run. I’m just checking the view, really – that’s why I thought I’d bring you with me. You’re already used to nature photography. Maybe both of us can learn something new today.”

The two of you had reached the top floor of the gallery and you stopped while you waited for him to unlock the sturdy door of the balcony. Clearly, no one had been there in a while because the lock refused to give.

“Do you always put so much work into your photoshoots?” you asked as you watched him wrestle with the door. “I figured, you would just find a model, find a spot, do it, and that’s it. I didn’t realize test runs were involved.”

“There’s no textbook photoshoot,” he replied, grunting as he finally managed to turn the key and get the door to open. “Ah, here we go. What was I—oh, right, well, everyone does photoshoots differently. Sometimes mine are spontaneous, too. But this one’s a big deal so I want it to be perfect and that’s why I can’t just show up to a random spot and start taking pictures. I need to make sure the view is going to be cooperating.”

As soon as you walked past the old doors and entered the balcony, overlooking the vast woods behind the gallery – the dark green pine trees looked beautiful when circled by yellow and crimson leaves of the oaks and maples around them; you’d forgotten how much you loved fall time – you knew that he wouldn’t be searching for long. It was very unrealistic that this spot wouldn’t pass Jiho’s overly complicated test. It was breathtakingly beautiful here.

“I’ve seen this balcony hundreds of times when I was driving to work,” you spoke, your voice quiet, “but I never imagined just how beautiful the woods would look from up here.”

Jiho was smiling as he nodded and put his camera case on the marble floor.

“I figured you’d like this,” he said. “And, actually, I have to thank you. I’d thought my models would have to dress up in something that matched the colors of the leaves – you know, to fit the whole mood of the fall – but I realize that’s ridiculous. The pictures will look amazing if they’re dressed in black. Like you are.”

You looked down at your outfit instinctively. “Oh. Well. Yeah. I guess that will focus the attention on the background more.”

“Exactly,” he said, pulling his camera out and approaching the railing where you stood. “Interesting perfume, by the way.”

You turned to him – surprised by the unexpected comment – and realized with a  jolt of your stomach that he must have been referring to Jaebum’s cologne. You hadn’t realized the scent was so obvious – in fact, for the most part, you could barely smell it unless you sniffed the hoodie itself.

“Oh, it’s—”

“Ah, shit,” Jiho swore suddenly, frowning at his camera. “Can you hold on for a moment? I left my back-up battery in the staff room. The camera’s dead.”

“Sure—”

“I’ll be right back,” he said and then tossed you the keys of the balcony, “watch these.”

You caught them right before they hit the ground and barely managed to nod again before he was out of the door, leaving you on the balcony all by yourself.

Admittedly, it was rather chilly here but the view made the goosebumps creeping up your spine worth it. You hadn’t brought your camera with you today so you had to make do with your phone as you snapped a few shots, wanting to capture at least some part of the beauty in front of you.

Your hands moved almost automatically; as soon as you finished taking the pictures, you found yourself editing them on one of the many photo editing apps you had on your phone while you waited for Jiho to come back. He really took his time, and, once he finally returned – completely out of breath – you were already sniffling and could barely feel your hands.

“I’m so sorry,” Jiho wheezed out. “I didn’t mean to freeze you to death, I swear. It just turns out that the key to the staff room? Yeah, the administrator has that and he’s not as nice when you don’t have any more coffee. It took me forever to find—okay, whatever. Let’s do this before you freeze a limb off.”

“It’s fine,” you said, “my fingers are already numb. It can’t get much worse.”

He chuckled, still breathing heavily. “Sorry. The view’s great, though, I hope you don’t regret waiting up here.”

Surprisingly, you didn’t regret anything about today yet – not even the fact that Jiho was the one who had brought you up here – and you mustered up a smile as you shook your head, “no. The view is great. Thank you for asking me to come here with you.”

“Oh,” Jiho seemed to be just as surprised by the gentle tone of your voice as you were. He smiled back nevertheless. “Well, it’s no problem. Let’s do this fast, though. Hot chocolate is on me after this.”

You’d have rather gotten your frozen fingers amputated than admitted that this Tuesday might have been one of the most enjoyable Tuesdays of your whole life. The freezing air on the balcony made you and Jiho bond – even if you did cringe at the word – as you both jumped around, trying to keep warm while he took pictures from every possible angle. He even came this close to actually dangling himself off the edge of the railing once.

On top of all of that, even sharing plastic cups of vending-machine hot chocolate in the staff room later – although it tasted like nothing due to your stuffed nose – was unexpectedly fun. The two of you ended up splashing your drinks everywhere as your hands shook uncontrollably from the cold. However, despite almost reaching a conclusion that Jiho wasn’t really the evil incarnate, you still longed to return home and forget about having to work with him.

Jaebum – currently unemployed and only bound by the contract he’d signed with an entertainment agency last week – was cooking dinner when you got home – bless his heart. Your wish of forgetting all about Jiho came true almost immediately after you came in through the door and Jaebum gave you a wave from the kitchen – the knife in his hand not looking threatening at all.

“I have fantastic news!” he gasped the next second, the eagerness in his voice showing you that he’d been anticipating your return home. You simply couldn’t think back on your day with Jiho when you heard Jaebum’s excited tone. “My management team called today and they wanted to arrange a meeting about “Don’t Touch Me.” It-it’ll be re-released as an official single later.”

“Right, you’ve told me that,” you said slowly, urging him to go on as you undressed in the hallway, overjoyed to feel the warmth of your slippers as opposed to the cold hard soles of your sneakers.

“Yes, exactly, I already knew that,” Jaebum continued as you hung your coat on the hanger and heard something land on the floor with a harsh clink. “So I said no to the meeting.”

“Oh? But maybe they had something else to tell you,” you said, leaning down to pick up the ring of keys that had just fallen out of your coat pocket. You’d completely forgotten to give the keys of the balcony to the administrator when you left the gallery today.

“You’re absolutely right, they did. I’ll actually have to seem them again. But,” he said, pausing when you entered the kitchen and took your usual spot by the island, tossing the balcony keys next to his cutting board and hoping you wouldn’t forget to bring them back tomorrow, “only if I need to find someone to design the artwork for the cover of the single. Both the digital and the physical copy.”

You were busy half-listening to him and half-undressing-and-smelling-what-he-was-cooking, so you were confused. “What? So, you don’t need anyone to design you that?”

“No, I do,” he said, looking at you with a big grin. “I just don’t need to look for that person because, I’m hoping, she’s sitting right across from me.”

“She’s—wait, me?” you raised your eyebrows. “You want me to design the artwork for your single? Jaebum—”

“Of course, I do,” he confirmed. “You’re the only photographer I know—”

“Jackson.”

“—and—oh. Yeah, well, him, too, but anyway,” Jaebum waved his hand around dismissively – not the one he was holding the knife with, thankfully. “I want you to do it. And you might be the only one who’s able to do it, actually.”

He’d already hinted at getting your help when filming a music video for his single but you’d kind of assumed he was joking. Clearly, he wasn’t.

“Why?”

He gave you a look. “You know why. It’s either you or Mark and, no offense to him, but the pictures he takes look like they’ve been done with a flip-phone.”

You smiled at that but shook your head nevertheless. “I’m flattered you thought of me—”

“Good. I was hoping you’d be.”

“—but shouldn’t you get a… I don’t know, a professional to do this?” you asked. “As in, someone who’s done this before?”

“You’re a professional,” he simply said.

“I—but I’ve never done this before,” you insisted.

“And neither have I,” he shrugged. “I mean, we’re doing this together, right? You working on your exhibition and me working on this – and by “this,” I don’t mean this stew. Oh, by the way, is garlic okay with you? Because I already added it. Anyway—we’re in this together. I’ll be your model, you’ll be my photographer. I don’t really see how any of us might end up at a disadvantage.”

“Maybe not now,” you continued to disagree, too insecure to let him down. “But you’ll see it when you end up being disappointed by the end result. I mean, this is your debut single – it will represent you for the rest of your life. The cover for it should be—”

“You really don’t have high hopes for me improving as a musician, do you?” he asked, turning towards the oven.

“I-I—no. I didn’t mean it like that,” you back-tracked, clearing your throat. “I just don’t want you to do this because you feel like you have to.”

Jaebum stopped stirring the pot and turned back around to face you. “Hey, uh, are you free tomorrow?”

You frowned at the sudden change of topic. “W-What? Why?”

“I’ll be making an appointment with an ear doctor for you,” he said, “because, clearly, you’ve got selective hearing and that’s got to be a problem,” he chuckled when you blinked your eyes, still confused. “I’ve told you several times that I want you to do this. I’m not asking you because I feel like I have to. I happen to believe your talent and I’d very much like it if you used it to help a brother out.”

This got you to laugh and Jaebum, beyond proud of himself now, turned back towards the pot.

“So, what do you say?” he asked after a moment, his hopeful gaze leaving the boiling water and landing on your face. “We’ll discuss the pay later.”

This surprised you. “Oh, I’ll get paid?”

“Ah, I knew I should have started with the money first.”

“No, I’m obviously kidding,” you shook your head, laughing again. “You’re giving me an opportunity to advance my career in a surprising new direction. It should be me paying you.”

“That is good though, right? It should help you with the whole getting-your-name-out-there thing, too, yeah?”

You swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in your throat. “Uh, yeah.”

“So, we’re doing this?”

Exhaling deeply, you looked around the room one more time – for no reason other than to win yourself some time to calm down from the sudden mention of your work with Jiho – and then nodded finally.

“Okay,” you decided. “Fine. But tell me if you hate the pictures, okay? Don’t go soft on me just because we’re—well, you know.”

“Deal,” Jaebum replied, smiling. “I’ll shred you to pieces if I hate the pictures.”

“Alright. No pressure on me at all.”

He laughed. “You’ll do great. There’s no way I’d ever hate your work. Just let me know when you’re free, yeah? We’ll find some place to take the pictures, it doesn’t have to be anything fancy.”

As though you were in a movie, the ring of the keys to the gallery’s balcony – that you’d thrown on the island when you got back – suddenly caught the rays of the setting sun. The blinding sparkle caught your eye, forcing you to squint and feel a metaphorical lightbulb pop up above your head.

“Hey,” you started slowly. “What if I told you I already have an idea where we could take the pictures?”

You took Jaebum to your gallery as soon as the two of you were done with dinner. Just as you’d expected, he loved the view from the balcony as much as you did when you first saw it this morning. However, the woods looked even better at night when the edges of the trees were illuminated by the streetlights and the stars in the clear sky above.

“Wow,” Jaebum exhaled – his breath manifesting into a cloud of smoke due to the cold air outside – clearly impressed. “Have you taken pictures here before?”

“Ah, no,” you looked down. You’d hoped you wouldn’t have to talk about how you discovered this spot. “I’ve actually never been up here before until recently. You’re the first model I’ve brought here.”

He turned to you with an amused expression. “I’m honored. History is being made here tonight.”

“Yeah, about that,” you started as you turned your camera on with nervous fingers, “you remember that I don’t usually take pictures of people, right?”

“Not a problem. I’ve been told I can do a mad impression of a tree.”

You laughed, checking the settings. “I’m just saying, don’t raise your expectations.”

“I don’t really understand your apprehension,” he admitted then. You raised your eyes to meet his. “I mean, the photos you took at Jackson’s studio were brilliant. You said so yourself.”

You looked down again, your face suddenly so warm, you were surprised steam wasn’t rising from it. You hadn’t meant to compliment yourself as a photographer when you’d called those pictures “brilliant.”

“It’s because of you,” you said. “Not because of me.”

“Alright, whatever,” Jaebum rolled his eyes – even if you could barely see it in the darkness of the night – and then rubbed his hands against his thighs, clearly cold. “I’ll turn my magic on again, so let’s do this. Or, if we wait any longer, you won’t be taking pictures of people after all, because I’ll turn into your friendly neighborhood snowman.”

He kept joking around the entire night, making you laugh each time, and you’d have been lying if you said you didn’t love every moment of tonight to death. Seeing his face light up when he successfully made you laugh was almost better than whatever he’d just said.

By the end of the night, you’d dedicated yourself to laughing at anything and everything that came out of his mouth just so he would keep looking like a child on Christmas day. And, when you looked at him through the screen of your camera, that was precisely what Jaebum looked like. He didn’t have a smile on his face – he didn’t think he should have been smiling on the cover of the single – but, even despite putting his best model face on, his eyes still glittered as if the biggest bag of candy awaited him behind the lens of the camera.

As expected from a spot like this, you could feel the magic Jaebum had mentioned with every press of the shutter. The stars in the sky above you two wanted to steal the show but even they faded into a blurry background when you focused the camera on Jaebum’s profile as he gazed out at the woods.

For the briefest of moments, you had regretted not trying to take pictures of him right there in your kitchen when he was cooking. For one, it would have been warmer to have your photoshoot there. But, most importantly, he’d have still looked other-wordly while dancing around the three different pots on your stove.

But then the moment passed when you saw the way the dim lighting, coming through the door of the balcony, played with his features, accentuating his bone structure and highlighting the dreamy look in his eyes. And then, as you took picture after picture – not even double-checking if you had set your settings right – you realized that it wasn’t the light playing with him at all. It was the other way around.

Just like the first time you’d photographed him, Jaebum was – without realizing it himself – controlling all of his surroundings until they responded to his every move. He’d lift his head and, all of a sudden, you’d see three falling stars in the sky. He would look down and the wind in the trees would suddenly cease blowing, the harmonious, comforting silence working as the background of the picture. He would turn to look at you and all breath would escape you, making your head spin.

You watched him try to get comfortable in front of the camera and zoomed in on his face with shaky hands. You pressed the button dozens of times in a row, aware that you were getting blurry shots but not caring because you knew he looked flawless anyway.

You felt his eyes search for yours through the lens, your camera not enough to shield you from the warmth of his gaze.

You watched him watch you, the cold air around you doing nothing to the fires in your chest.

Your camera did its work perfectly even despite the cold air around you, but, all throughout the night, you couldn’t focus on the device in your hands at all. You were busy taking pictures of Jaebum with your mind, your heart, and the deepest parts of your soul instead.

     chapter directory

[kikuism]

hi mariam!! 💖 okay i know pretty much nothing about the divergent series, but i love reading your pointed opinion tags about it, so if you could improve tris as a character how would you do it? or is she (and i guess the whole series) just completely beyond repair?

hi jenna! 💙 ohhh this is a fun question. i’ve never really thought how i would repair her character, but let me try to think of some ways that i could make her more tolerable ...

my biggest problem was that she really had no personality to me, as far as i can remember. and to me, if i can’t imagine headcanons for a character, it means that character just does not have a personality for me to latch onto and imagine them in situations beyond canon. so, first, i’d give her some kind of personality that doesn’t consist of her boyfriend and making ‘witty’ remarks. i’m not even mad that all she does is lash out; i know other characters who lash out, too, but tris just falls so flat because i felt like veronica roth was just trying to show how much of a badass tris is; she just felt like a caricature of ‘strong female mc’ instead of, like, an actual human being. take toph, a truly unhinged character in my opinion, who loves lashing out: but she’s not just like this. i always think of the scene in the desert when the sand benders take appa away and toph understandably could only hold them off for so long. it really did hurt her for letting the situation get beyond her control. oh, and remember when she kissed suki, thinking it was sokka? we love to see it. also, toph is ultimately limited in what she can do and she acknowledges that. tris? she can shoot her way through any situation. making her invincible like this is just a turn off for me. 

another unhinged character that comes to mind for me is kaz from six of crows. he’s selfish, utterly mean and so very despicable. it’s very hard to like him at first because his choices are so questionable. this is what tris should have been like but failed to be. why? because tris has no substance to her character beyond the aforementioned traits. i don’t get a sense of who she is as a person at all. but for kaz, we know why and how he’s come to be like this. he’s said so many times: he’s a businessman in a filthy city crawling with people ready to cheat you out if you aren’t prepared, kaz has honed himself over the years to be sharp as a knife and ready to do literally anything to achieve his goals, no matter how despicable. and eventually, you end up rooting for kaz, even though he’s horrible so much of the time. even so, he cares for his friends--at first, he sees them as pawns, but then eventually he sees them as partners. he even jokes with them sometimes. and with inej, especially, he can’t even he close to her without feeling like he’s going to shatter. it’s these nuances with his character that make him feel so real and enjoyable to read. 

tris? does her personality ever change with anyone she’s around? does she ever have any goofy or endearing moments?? it’s like she’s just forever meant to be in this ‘badass’ mode with no sense of why she’s like this. now that she’s in dauntless, she’s forever going to remain a dauntless, with no nuance whatsoever. if she had retained some of her abnegation traits, it would have made her so much more interesting. and i don’t like how being dauntless comes so easy to her. sure, she had to train physically to become a better fighter, but you can’t tell me that spending your whole life in a faction that values selflessness wouldn’t rub off on you mentally in some way. but no. the moment tris joins dauntless, it’s like her old life is just completely gone. i would have loved to see instances of her abnegation upbringing clash with her dauntless reality. i would have loved to see her struggle with these two aspects of her identity, considering they are so contradicting. i would have loved to see her think ‘maybe this was a bad idea’. then, maybe, her inclusion into dauntless would have felt somewhat earned after a struggle. but no. she gets there, endures some bullying, throws a few punches, loses, trains, jumps on and off trains and plays capture the flag. oh, and she does get a tattoo to honor her old life, but i can’t buy that at all. show me you’ve been struggling to fit in dauntless because of your abnegation upbringing before ultimately deciding to honor it instead of it being a random ass aesthetic decision. show me that old life meant something to you! it seemed like tris just despised being in abnegation and couldn’t wait to leave. so her getting a tattoo to honor it makes no sense to me. it does not feel organic and just feels more like some aesthetic choice veronica roth wanted to make with her oc knowing how much the kiddos would gobble it up. and it worked. i saw this tattoo everywhere on instagram and the like. 

what are her interests, hobbies? what does she like to do beyond the immediate plot? i really think it would have been much better if we’d gotten to see her acting outside the realm of the main story sometimes. like, i cannot make sense of who tris is at all before the choosing ceremony and before the whole divergent plot even happens. she was just vibing at her own faction, doing what ... ? why should i care? that’s one of the reasons katniss is effective as a character, we really got to know her life before the games and how that life affects her performance in the games itself. we know why she’s the way she is and it adds a new level of depth when we watch her training for the games and when she’s finally in the games. if katniss seems mean and aloof (and she is), we know why: she’s been the sole breadwinner for her family since her father died. her mother lost herself in depression and so it was only up to katniss to ensure her and her family’s survival. oh, and living in the poorest, filthiest district also puts it into perspective. katniss has been operating on survival mode for years and years now. her skill with a bow? same reason. her badassery with her weapon feels earned because of her backstory. we know how she got to this point. and it’s the same thing with toph: we care about her because we know where she’s coming from and what she’s going through. it puts everything about her sardonic temperament into perspective exactly because she’s lived such a sheltered life pleasing others and now she lives only to please herself.  i like toph’s character. she is a true badass. i love her scathing retorts and unwavering confidence. tris is just a cheap, watered down version of her; she annoys me because there’s no soul to her. when she brags about her prowess, i’m like, why should i care? what have you done that should make me care about how awesome you are? you haven’t earned that.

now, why is tris like this??  ....to show that true strength comes from having nerves of steel and a sharp tongue and that’s it? why is she the way she is?  in what way does her past affect her current character and actions? in no way, because i have no idea who she was in her old life.

also, can she just do things besides...lashing out and using a gun?? maybe give her a sense of humor or an unexpected hobby? that would have made her character more interesting for sure. 

and the worldbuilding is fucking atrocious. i’ve no idea to this day why tris is a special snowflake as there’s literally no reason for her to be. it just makes her character even worse because now she thinks she’s special and everyone should be bowing down to her because she’s such a big threat. why? because she has more than one personality trait......i can’t. this is just utter stupidity and gives me even more reason to be annoyed at her for thinking so highly of herself for something so stupid!! if she were like everyone else, maybe it would have made her the tiniest bit more tolerable, but no. 

i think all this just boils down to the fact that veronica roth just wanted to make a ‘badass female mc’ instead of a real human. it just feels so 2010 to me. girls can fight. girls can talk back. girls can hold their own ground. like, okay, yes, and? where is the nuance? the humanity? she just feels like an android to me, like a checklist of traits the author just piled on top of each other to create the ‘perfect feral mc’. toph’s and katniss’s characters just feel organic, coming from and developing at a natural place. tris just feels so forced, a product of, like, this aggressive brand of girl power i cannot vibe with.

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 22: Routine - Somethings Changed, Somethings Changed, Somethings Changed

When you make it a habit to know everything someone regularly does, even someone like Skulker will eventually find out something he’d wish he hadn’t.

*Note: Title inspired by Something Changed by Creep-P

If there was one thing Skulker made sure to know and know well, it was his preys routines. That was one thing he loved about the young halfa, his routine was easy but the fun came from just how frequently it got royally messed up. But it always had the same base structure, ‘ghost attacks, exchange witty banter, kick ghost butt, go home’. In fact it was so much of a routine that the boy could explain it to someone with practiced ease. Then there was mornings of ruffling up sleep tousled hair, shoving minty paste around his mouth and consuming food. Fifty-fifty chance of his parents devices doing something to or around him. Followed by schooling and skipping doing that for some ghost fight or another. Spending an obscene amount of time with his friends, bantering with the hunter girl, and the night patrol. There was, of course, some much more basic aspects to the boys routine. Though sleep was one thing that Phantom just seemed to shove where ever it would fit at random. And something about today just rang all the hunter bells inside Skulker. He just knew today was going to be one of the weird ones. The ones where he always learned the most.

That turned out to be quite the understatement. Because there are other unchanging facts about the whelps routines.

He gets beat up by bullies, sometimes fights back mildly. Why that was, had to be some imperceptible good guy thing. But not today, in all Skulker’s time he had never once seen the whelp, in his human skin, punch the Dash child.

Phantom always smiled at his friends, their backs turned or not. Not today, if they weren’t looking he was glaring or smirking in a way that was honestly impressively malicious.

That sister of his always made sure he got to school eventually. Not today, today she was completely missing.

He always ate his lunch hurriedly but still with enjoyment. Not today, he was lazy about it, uncaring. It didn’t even seem like he tasted the food at all.

But again, another thing Skulker knew about Phantom’s routine was that things often became incredibly strange. But here’s the thing, that was always preempted by either his parents' awful weaponry or some other ghost interfering. He’d always go back to ‘normal’ afterwards. But ever since last night the kid had been off, for no reason. So Skulker kept his distance and watched as things went from weird and off to deeply concerning.  

See normally, Phantom never did more than beat ghosts around a little, sometimes taking out his aggression problem on them, but never anything serious. Especially against that fool, The Box Ghost. Not today, which is honestly the most concerning thing yet. Skulker almost felt bad for The Box Ghost. The whelp looked like he was actively trying to destroy and hurt him, for no reason other than to inflict pain. It was, dare he say, incredibly disturbing.

But the most concerning thing of all, was Phantom noticed him. Worse than that, Phantom didn’t care. Phantom never noticed Skulker’s studying of him, never. Skulker went out of his way to make sure he got around and stayed out of the range of the boys' ghost sense. The whelp, while paranoid, wasn’t exactly observant. And Skulker’s sure the ghost child’s sense hadn’t gone off, yet the halfa was acting like he always knew Skulker followed him around and had just decided to make that fact clear. What really unnerved Skulker was that the boy would occasionally lock eyes with him and grin. That is not how Phantom ever reacts to seeing any of his ‘enemy’ ghosts, especially not the mighty hunter Skulker.

So to say the whelps normal routine of behaviour was off, was an understatement.

Watching as the boy takes his silly little human test while grinning maliciously, why the powerful halfa even bothered with human things he’ll never fully understand. Only for the sister to sneak up with weapons, which is more than a little odd. She was decidedly not a ghost hunter or one of the whelps little sidekicks. Only for her to seemingly get electrocuted, pass out and get dragged off by an invisible force. Making Skulker quite pleased with himself over staying the Hell away. He knew Phantom couldn’t duplicate, so that wasn’t the boys doing. So it was something following him maybe, potentially influencing his behaviour. Something similar has happened to the boy multiple times after all.

Skulker can’t help but raise an eyebrow, somewhat amused, at how damn aggressively the whelp hands in his paper. Then pulling a face overhearing the kid using ‘is that a problem?’ as a threat...at a human. Phantom never even threatened human hunters, none the less his own, arguably weak and pathetic, teacher. In fact he seemed quite fond of this teacher, normally. Yet here he was threatening the human and walking off like the proudest thing in the world.

Then even stranger is he’s grinning maliciously around his own family as they go to meet this teacher. Obviously the teacher is not impressed with the whelp. Yet Phantom seems happy about that, seems to eagerly be looking forward to it. Which is yet another thing that is off. The whelp hates getting in trouble, he hates letting people down. He should be absolutely miserable, a little paranoid, and maybe slightly angry. Not grinning full of pride and taking long confident steps towards his unimpressed teacher. While his shocked parents follow behind.

Skulker actually pauses and gapes a bit as the teacher flat out claims Phantom cheated and the little whelp doesn’t even deny it. He seems tickled green actually. Phantom never cheats, especially not on something mundane or schooling. The whelp won’t even use his ghostly strength to do better in gym. He might trick his opponents but he never outright cheats. Never. That is so severely outside of the halfas norm that it is jarring. And then he’s proud even giddy, over being caught. Like he cheated purely so he would be caught. That mental line makes absolutely no sense when dealing with Phantom.

Regardless of being heroes or villains, no ghost wanted to get caught for anything. Phantom included. This was downright wrong, not just off.

The sidekicks showing up and talking about things exploding only seems to make the halfa grin crueller. Like the prospect of everyone getting blown up and dying pleased him. Again, this is incredibly wrong.

Then the sister shows back up with a battle suit, which does look decently impressive, and Phantom finally gives a more normal behaviour; shock. But it’s angry almost malicious shock, which he never has and definitely never aims at a human. Phantom’s anger is the annoyed frustrated kind. Not the red hot or ice cold, ‘I want to make something bleed’, kind.

Watching as the sister blasts him with some beam, peeling off his skin, and NOPE! JUST NOPE! Skulker is not touching whatever is going on here or whatever Phantom just turned into. He doesn’t need to be anywhere near that. He actively doesn’t want to be. He can see and feel from here that that thing is powerful, malicious, cold, and not just bad but evil. And he thought Plasmius could be cruel, disturbing and rather evil sometimes. That man was evil in a manipulative calculating way, this ghost was evil in a destructive and Pariah-like way. And Skulker’s instincts are telling him that Pariah is kinder than this ghost, which is highly concerning. When Pariah had awoken, all the little warning bells in him had gone off but this creature was sending them off so harshly that it almost felt like he would break on the spot. He desperately wanted to flee but he was rooted in the spot. Not just out of abject horror but interest. This ghost looked remarkably like Phantom, colour pallet wise.

Skulker manages to take a step back, firmly stunned at the strange ghost laughing and leaping into the sky, changing the damn weather for no reason, and shouting that he is Phantom. The same Phantom as always, which is wrong. Clearly and loudly outing himself as a halfa. Which is the very opposite of one of the key aspects of the whelps routines. He’ll do near anything to keep his secret. Not today, today someone who claims and looks to be him, is shouting it for the world to hear purely to bathe in their shock. But all this gives Skulker a better look and while he could write off the black and white colour scheme as coincidence, he couldn’t do the same to Phantom’s infamous DP symbol. Whatever’s happened to his prey he definitely does not like. He’s not stupid enough to hunt that.

Skulker manages to genuinely back away some as, definitely evil, Phantom straps his own family and friends onto what his sidekicks basically said was a highly explosive bomb.

“Not until it’s time for you to be blown everywhere”.

Making Skulker realise what, exactly, this ghost was trying to do. It was actively trying to murder them, blow them to bits, kill off the people Phantom cared about most. This was every single level of wrong. On such an intrinsic level.

Skulker knew, it was obvious if you paid any attention, that his preys obsession was protection. Especially of his family and friends. No ghost ever went directly and so extremely against their own obsession. Everything in their very beings would scream against that, would destroy themselves first. For a ghost to go against it gladly, eagerly, and revel in it? That just wasn’t even possible. Just the idea made Skulker’s insides want to revolt.

Which meant that this Phantom’s obsession must be different. His obsession must have changed. But that, ghosts can’t do that either. For that, something at the very core and essence of a ghost had to have changed. Ghosts didn’t change after they formed, not in such a base way. But Phantom was a halfa. Half-formed. Skulker goes wide-eyed and really looks this evil Phantom over. He was more ghostly...This Phantom wasn’t a halfa. This Phantom had fully died. Somehow that makes Skulker recoil even more. That, the whelp, his favourite prey, not being a halfa was utterly revolting.

Watching and shaking slightly, as evil Phantom just lets the sister punch through him and spins his head around. Clearly his routine of not dodging is intact, but that isn’t currently comforting. Seeing as that confirms this is indeed Phantom further. While messed up Phantom assaults his own sister in a show of extreme dramatic flare. Duplicates, really? Just to remove a helmet and gag her? Now that’s just excessive. The whelp always had a taste for flair and dramatics but this was excessive, and was seemingly being done just to revel in others' fear. Grinning and laughing over the screaming, fear and hopelessness in their faces. Which was explicitly not something Phantom does.

Blinking as normal Phantom comes flying out of the sky and starts doing his routine, it’s honestly like a drink of cool ectoplasm to Skulker. Prey doing as prey’s supposed to be doing. But this is still different, more desperate. Normal Phantom is doing everything he can from the looks of it. But he’s firmly getting his ass kicked, brutally. Messed up Phantom isn’t even trying, he’s playing, batting around prey. Even when he gets thrown into an explosion and set on fire, he just walks through the flames like they weren’t even there. Can this psychotic Phantom even be injured?

Here’s another thing about Phantom’s routine, Phantom never gets his ass genuinely kicked. He might be on the losing side for a bit or struggling, but he’s never so plainly outmatched. This ghost, this messed up Phantom could easily kill normal Phantom but he’s not. There’s still the ever-present Phantom ‘witty banter’, from both of them. Which is jarring. Especially because the two have, very clearly, different brands of ‘witty banter’. Messed up evil Phantom is mocking, cruel, egotistical, and full of sneers. Normal Phantom tries to be funny, belittles, and masks his own fear. A level of which Skulker has never seen in the boy before.

Then Skulker blinks, remembering what messed up Phantom had said near-instantly to normal Phantom.

“You don’t get it. I’m still here, I still exist. That means you still turn into me”

Skulker’s brain shorts at that, this monster was what his Phantom, his prey, was supposed to become? How? Why? Phantom would never want this...no wonder normal Phantom, young Phantom?, was fighting against this future thing so hard. Skulker was used to weird around this kid, but fighting his own future was something else.

But that makes Skulker stop. The only reason monster Phantom was just tossing around normal Phantom was because he couldn’t kill him. This monster Phantom’s goal was literally to kill his own family and friends. There is no way this Phantom wasn’t a mass murderer then. No one like Phantom starts with their own family. Blinking, them dying...his future self killing them...that’s probably what causes him to become this. Skulker, if he survives this night, is never even considering seriously harming the halfas close ones ever again. Any trap is not worth his prey becoming this thing.

Skulker nearly flees as the, not just messed up but a damn monster, Phantom just keeps mocking and sneering at the human skinned Phantom. After he functionally pulverised normal Phantom. There’s fire everywhere, people are screaming, the air’s thick with the scent of blood, there’s no way no ones died, and normal Phantom is on his hands and knees. Battered to near nothing and this thing, this monster, doesn’t even look phased. He’s relaxed, amused, laughing. This is a level of chaos and destruction Skulker has never seen done by a single lone ghost before. And all without any power-ups, sneak attacks, items or even putting in effort beyond being unnecessarily dramatic. Skulker is goddamn screwed. He’s been following this thing, and the monster knew it. This monster Phantom could and would swallow him whole and crunch him to bits just for the show of it. Just because he could and he’d barely bat an eye at doing it.

Skulker slumps to sit on the ground, not because he couldn’t make his suit flee but because there wasn’t any point. Fleeing from Pariah had been a fool's game, fleeing from this was just suicide and asking to be destroyed more painfully.

And then normal Phantom screams or wails or shrieks or something. Whatever it is, it is utterly horrifying and destroys a building. And that���s normal Phantom doing that while clearly on the verge of collapse. Skulker is not okay with this. He knew the whelp held back, but this was a little much. And seeing monster Phantom get up from that, only looking annoyed and slightly surprised doesn’t make Skulker feel better. Skulker couldn’t have sustained such a blow. And monster Phantom could probably do that too, and was drastically and brutally stronger than normal Phantom. Which only means that this beast could easily wipe out entire cities with one attack.

Skulker can’t help but grin at normal Phantom besting and capturing the monster Phantom. Even if Skulker’s well aware he was only able to do so because the monster Phantom had to hold back.

But even Skulker freezes as the halfas family and friends perish anyway.

“You’re too late to save them”

The thing, the monster, knew his younger self was going to fail. He was just beating his younger self up....for fun. “What makes you think you can change my past?”. What indeed.

Skulker can’t even bring himself to blink or take note of the weight around his neck, as everything just freezes, like someone pushed pause on a tv show. The whelps family, friends...and teacher, suspended and safe in the air. While some strange child ghost appears next to Phantom. But then is suddenly an adult ghost.

“I see the parade from above. All the twists and turns it might, or might not, take”.

“You knew all of this was going to happen, all of it”.

Now Skulker blinks, he’s no intellect but that sounded like universal knowledge and future sight. Looking around slightly, this strange ghost, It did this. Stopped everything. Looking the ghost over closer, covered in clock imagery. It stopped time. What sort of ghost had such power? And to see the future as well.

He then gapes as this ghost smiles and winks at Phantom. Showing the whelp affection. This ghost was one of the young halfas allies...and It could control time. Stopped something that seemed completely unavoidable and hopeless as if it was nothing. Skulker almost preferred the idea of being destroyed over knowing this.

Watching as this ghost apparently sends Phantom back in time to stop all of this from ever occurring. Before looking to Skulker with a slight frown but a twinkle in Its eye. It knew he was here too. Of course It did, It was probably watching all this the same as he had. It...It knew all of this would happen, how it would end. Yet let it happen to...teach the whelp a lesson? Was this ghost Phantom’s mentor?

That thought manages to break some of Skulker’s shock making him smirk slightly, Vlad would be furious.

Which is when the ghost suddenly appears next to Skulker, making him jerk away and squint at the ghost.

“Who, what, are you?”.

“I would be known best to mortals as Father Time. Though I have been called many things. You may know me best as the Norns”, It gives a slight smile, “mortals insist on labelling me with their genders in interesting ways”.

Skulker watches as they change from old to child. The three Norns, past, present and future indeed. “Are you even a Ghost?”.

“That is one Daniel has never asked and you’d be wise to not ask that which you do not want the answer to”.

Skulker looks away and over at the frozen in time destruction, “why”, he doesn’t doubt this ‘ghost’ knows exactly what he means.

Looking away from Skulker, “the truly powerful have plenty of lessons to learn. All best taught with time”.

Skulker doesn’t miss the pun, and that is oddly grounding. It was the whelps mentor and It was like Phantom.

Skulker looks at his chest then, noticing the medallion. He doesn’t need to be told that this is the only reason he’s not frozen along with everything else. But he doesn’t dare touch it or question what they symbol means. Instead, “why me?”.

“My interference only goes so far. Should you wish to never see this-”, gesturing with Its staff at the destruction, “-again. I have a job for you”.

Skulker looks at the ‘ghosts’ adult face, finding it unreadable, “what is it?”.

It smiles then but doesn’t turn to him, “you work close to Vladimir. You will find blueprints in the future. You will choose to either ignore them or destroy them. My request is simply that you choose the later”.

Skulker nods slightly, “I will but what does he have to do with this?”.

The ‘ghost’ frowns, “Vladimir always wanted to corrupt Daniel, make him follow in his footsteps. There is little he would not do”.

Skulker stares realising what this ‘ghost’ is implying. This was Vlad’s fault. And it was, at least somewhat, intentional. And honestly, that tracked. Vlad was a mad man and just like the whelp, Skulker knew his routines well. “That makes sense. He’s a decent employer but a dangerous man”. Dangerous and powerful, not just physically either.

“Such is the way of all the hybrids. They all pose a threat to the survival of the worlds. Both with and without them. The avoidance of one cataclysmic event always sends the world down the path to another. Vladimir the catalyst, Daniel the inhibitor. Destruction and existence warring it out amongst mortal men”.

Skulker stares, incredibly confused. It seemed to be implying the two halfas were gods or something. It was incredibly odd. But odd fit in exactly with Phantom. “Why are you telling me all this?”.

“Because you won’t remember any of it”.

“But you asked me to do this job for you. I will need to remember it surely”.

“Hardly. Simply by the act of agreeing to do it, you set in motion the choice to do it. You will bear no recollection of today’s events or of me”, turning to Skulker with that twinkling in Its eye. Which Skulker recognise as something like mischief. Which, considering this creature's power, doesn’t bode well. Skulker follows Its movements as It floats to be in front of him, “to answer your earlier questionings of just what future Daniel did. You are indeed correct in your musing on him being a mass murderer. And not just of humans. The worlds fell to him, all destroyed under his fist and fang. Vladimir’s ghost half the first to fall, devoured and consumed. Daniel’s human half the second, disembowelled and decapitated. You only need imagine the rest”.

Skulker can only stare in shock. Monster had been too nice a word.

While the ‘ghost’ continues, “Daniel has seen and will remember exactly what his future self did. He will always be aware of what he’s capable of becoming. You will not. But I’ll tell you this now, so you may understand in the now. Why this was a lesson needed”, pausing to float close to Skulker’s face, which is honestly rather menacing even if It’s in child form now, “Daniel’s initial reaction to seeing his future self destroying Amity Park and obliterating an entire army was, ‘what a cool power’”.

Skulker doesn’t even need to ask to know this power was that wail thing. Which he can do with never ever hearing again.

Skulker looks down at his chest as the ‘ghost’ removes the medallion and suddenly-

Skulker’s got no clue how the whelp is just standing up now when he’d been sitting one second ago. But watching the boy talk about how he’s not a cheater and leaving to sit on the steps feels oddly comforting and extremely relieving; and Skulker’s chalking up that feeling to his hunter instincts.

Watching as his prey mingles with the sister and goes through the regular motions of his routine. This has been the strangest disruption of the whelps routine yet. Still having no clue what caused the odd behaviour and for it to suddenly disappear. But hearing the whelp yell, “guess who’s back and better than ever!”. Leaves Skulker pretty sure the Phantom he’s been following today wasn’t actually Phantom.

He watches for a while longer, feeling the need to reassure himself that his preys back to regular habits, before deciding to pay his employer a visit. It has been a while, even if his gut inexplicably knots up at the thought of the older halfa.

“Assist in separation, consume in desperation”

End.

[demonsofhunting]

All My Sins - Chapter 9

Pairing: priest!Cas x demon!Dean

Summary: Finally! Dean is appearing at Castiel's doorstep out of nowhere. What happened to him? What made him leave? The priest wants answers - the worries are killing him, even though he's more than just happy to see his boyfriend. And Dean is willing to talk...

Warnings: FLUFF ( yay! XD ), implied smut, angst, mentions of past abuse and murder...

Words: about 1800

A/N: Welcome to chapter nine! Now, you'll finally get some answers...I can't hold it back much longer. XD Prepare for some serious emotions and tears. Gawd, I love my precious babies so damn much! *sobbing*

Catch up here ( Masterlist ) :D

I hope you'll like it! Enjoy! <3

"Dean?" Cas rasps, his voice nothing but a tiny whisper. Dean Winchester smiles, cocking his head. Oh, how Cas loves his smirk...and those green, green eyes... "The one and only," he mutters, blinking with his long lashes. Then he looks down, suddenly nervous. He swallows hard, and his gaze is meeting Cas' again. There are tears in his eyes. "Damn it, Cas, I - ", he begins, but gets interrupted by the priest, who pushes him against the wall, just to kiss him in desperation. Dean does the same, his hands are running over Castiel's chest, touching him like he's the most precious thing in the world. Damn, it feels so good... Cas moans, as Dean pulls away, slowly. After a heavy breath, the young man says: "God, I missed you so fucking much!" "Same here," Cas whispers, stroking the other's cheek, gently. I could stare at these freckles forever. "Dean...what the hell happened? I...I thought I was going insane and - ", Cas stutters, but hesitates as Dean kisses him again, softly. "Not now, honey," he whispers into the priest's ear, making him shiver, "I promise that I'll tell you everything tomorrow. But...all I want right now is feel you, Cas. Everywhere. Please." His voice is so dark and soft, but filled with love and Castiel can feel his knees going weak almost immediately. "Promise?" he mutters, but he already knows that he lost the 'discussion'. Dean smiles, widely. He raises an eyebrow, licking his lips. "I promise," he answers with a wink. "Perfect," Cas mutters, and pulls him closer.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As Castiel wakes up the next morning, he feels awesome. After many nights with Meg, that were everything but quite enjoyable, the time with Dean was...incredible. As always. It's like they just know what the other wants, what he desires. They can communicate without words, and that's what makes their bond so special. The priest smiles to himself, as he turns around in bed, just to find Dean sleeping next to him. God...how can anybody look so beautiful while sleeping?! I bet I look like a troll while I'm asleep. He takes himself a couple of minutes to just simply appreciate the other's presence. His gaze is flowing over Dean's soft lineaments, enjoying every single detail. He's here. With me. And we're safe. The priest sighs, as the young man opens his eyes, slowly. "Hey," he mutters with a mild smile, "Why are you staring at me like a creep?" "'Cause I love you. Am I not allowed to appreciate a work of art when I see it?" Castiel answers, smirking. His heart is filled with so much warmth, that it feels like it's going to explode. He leans forth, until his lips are stroking over Dean's cheek, gently. "Okay. Now tell me," he whispers, blinking, "What happened to you?" Dean's eyes are going dark for a second, but it vanishes after a moment or two. "Are you sure that you want to know it?" the other says, seriously. He looks at Cas, questioning. The priest nods. "I am. Please, Dean. Talk to me," he begs, quietly. His heart is already beating faster, and he forces himself to calm down. There will be a harmless explanation for things...please let there be a harmless explanation... "I did bad things, Cas", Dean says after a few heartbeats of silence, "I killed people. And it was fun." Castiel blood runs cold. "Dean..." "No. Please. You need to hear it all to understand it. Just hang on, okay?" The priest nods, weakly. He can feel the tears coming up his throat, and Dean grabs his hand, softly. The other's touch is warm and familiar, and it makes Castiel calm down a little. He breathes in, deeply, as Dean continues: "It all began about three years ago. I...you know what I told you about my father? The way he treated me and my brother?" Cas nods. "After Sammy was gone, I...I just couldn't take it anymore. I knew that he wouldn't let me go. I knew that he would find me anywhere. And if he wouldn't be able to find me, he would go after Sam. I still don't know how he could become such an awful person. Anyway, Sammy was gone and I was in absolute despair. My father was worse than he had ever been, forcing me into...let's just say a life I didn't want to live. I didn't saw a light at the end of the tunnel, so I made a very awful decision. Actually, I did some research for fun as I stumbled upon the legends of crossroad demons and the deals that they are making if you ask them to do so. So...it said that they would make every wish come true. And all I wanted was to be free. So I got to a crossroad far, far away from town, and did the ritual to summon one. A - and it worked. I sold my soul for one purpose: that my dad would just disappear and never bother me or my brother again." He swallows, heavily, and closes his eyes. It seems like the memories are hurting him, awfully. Castiel's mouth is open, slightly, his fingers are curled around Dean's like he is the other's only anchor in this moment of truth. "Oh, Dean...", he whispers. "It worked. My father died, in the exact moment I sealed the deal with the demon. Heartattack. It was so damn simple. At first, I was filled with relief, but then I began to realise what I just did. I killed my father. I was a fucking monster. And as if this wasn't enough, this son of a bitch from a demon was kind enough to tell me, that now that they have my soul, they will feed from it until I will become one of them. They gave me about three years until I will  go completely crazy. That was the price I had to pay. Not a very good deal, if you ask me. I totally fucked up. The next months I basically spent with lots of sex, alcohol and drugs, doing everything to drown my thoughts, so that I didn't need to think about how terrible my future was going to be. After a while I decided that this was stupid as hell, and ran out of town. I tried to find a solution for my problem. I asked everyone that I came across, psychics and stuff, but nobody could help me. They felt all very sorry for me, but none of them could do something to save me from the darkness that was growing bigger and bigger inside my heart and mind. I could feel it crawling under my skin, a thirsty, terrible monster. It spoke to me, always tried to make me do bad things. And sometimes, I gave in. And it felt so damn good. The feeling of seeing a person's life fade into their eyes when they die...it turns me on. And that's just sick. I hate what I am, Cas. I hate it so fucking much." Castiel blinks, biting his lip. He tells himself to stay calm. We can get through this. We will find a solution. Together. "But you haven't hurt me, Dean. You aren't a bad person. We can fix this," he says. "Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is that this -you and me - wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't meant to fall in love. But I did. And I left the town, because I didn't want to hurt you. I felt that things were getting worse, and I tried to run from myself. There are hounds of hell wherever I go. They're chasing me, making me go crazy. It almost seems that they're waiting for me to lose my humanity completely," Dean tells the priest, staring into the void. The other hesitates: "So...whenever you seemed to see something that wasn't there, this were hellhounds? Like the thing that almost got me to drive into a tree?" His eyes are going wide. Dean nods. "But as you can see, now I'm back," he continues with a weak smile, "I just couldn't stay away from you. Actually, I felt my insanity getting stronger and stronger as I drove away...I think you're something like my anchor. Without you, I need to kill." After these words, they're both silent for a couple of seconds. "Holy shit," Castiel burst out, eventually. "I know," Deam sighs, biting his bottom lip, "You just slept with a murderer. Congrats." "I cleaned up your house, Dean," the priest admits, suddenly, and the other stops. "What?" "I cleaned everything up. I - I buried the body. I made sure that nobody would find something suspicious in there," Castiel whispers, and suddenly, there are tears streaming down his cheeks, "Dean, I...it was awful!" Dean pulls the priest closer, softly. He kisses the other's forehead. A single tear is running down his cheek. "I...I'm so sorry, Cas. I - " he says, his voice rough, and filled with pain and regret. "No, no. It's okay," Cas determines, fastly, "It...it wasn't your fault. We...we'll find a solution. I promise." Dean looks at him with nothing but desperation in his eyes. "Cas, you don't understand! There is no escaping! It's just a matter of time, and then I'll - " And for a moment, his eyes are flashing black. It's absolutely terrifying, and the priest winces. The darkness vanishes again like nothing happened and Cas can feel a claw clutching around his heart. He swallows, looking at Dean with determination in his eyes. "We will get through it, okay? I don't believe that you tried everything that's possible to get you out of this stupid deal,"he says. "But - " "No. We'll get you out of this misery. Or we'll find a way for you to live with it." "To live with it?! Cas, I am a killer!" "And?" "And?!" "I love you. I can't help but I love you. That means I am part of this misery as well, and you can't change my mind. I've already gone through hell for you, Dean, and I'm ready to do it again." Castiel raises his chin, and looks into Dean's eyes. He watches the other's gaze soften, slowly. The young man cries, as he curls his arms around Cas, holding on to his love in desperation. "Thank you," he whispers into the priest ear, burying his face on the other's chest. I've already gone through hell for you, and I'm ready to do it again.

( A/N: CHAPTER TEN <3 )

And that was chapter nine! Thank you so much for reading, and if you would like to leave a comment or reblog this shit,I will love you forever! <3

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