#now I have 2 days to furiously edit. everything

[bookwyrminspiration]

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[waitmyturtles]

Turtles Catches Up With Old GMMTV: He’s Coming To Me Edition

[What’s going on here? After joining Tumblr and discovering Thai BLs through KinnPorsche in 2022, I began watching GMMTV’s new offerings -- and realized that I had a lot of history to catch up on, to appreciate the more recent works that I was delving into. From tropes to BL frameworks, what we’re watching now hails from somewhere, and I’m learning about Thai BL's history through what I’m calling the Old GMMTV Challenge (OGMMTVC). Starting with recommendations from @absolutebl on their post regarding how GMMTV is correcting for its mistakes with its shows today, I’ve made an expansive list to get me through a condensed history of essential/classic/significant Thai BLs produced by GMMTV and many other BL studios. My watchlist, pasted below, lists what I’ve watched and what’s upcoming, along with the reviews I’ve written so far. Today, I’ll cover He’s Coming To Me, how this show centers Thai-Chinese/Asian culture, shipper culture, and the brilliance of Ohm Pawat and Singto Prachaya. THIS IS A LONG POST.]

I’m gonna have to hold myself down for this one. He’s Coming To Me. This kind of show. HCTM is ABSOLUTELY the reason why I created this project watchlist in the first place -- to watch this kind of show. This show cements my utter respect and passion for the work of Aof Noppharnach. This guy’s work needs to be taught in schools. 

I’m like -- after days of finishing HCTM, and furiously and hungrily rewatching episodes, I am still shaking my damn head at this show. I knew it was great, but y’all didn’t prepare me for ITS GREATNESS. (And to be watching it the same week as Our Skyy 2 x Bad Buddy x A Tale of Thousand Stars -- it’s been an Aof-themed moment, and I’m a touch overwhelmed by EVERYTHING I’ve absorbed.)

I am actually contemplating -- I’m seriously contemplating this! -- if I like this show better than either Bad Buddy or Moonlight Chicken. I know, I KNOW. I’m not talking about the story, the structure, the filming, the writing and direction. I’m literally just talking about my own damn preferences. I might just LIKE this show better, for what it held, what it told, and how the show showed so much respect for its story.

And there’s a lot I want to touch on in this piece, so as usual, a little list for myself:

1) Where this show came from vis à vis the watchlist, and what I think it meant by way of previous BLs 2) The Asianness of the show and how it transcended the usual BL tropes 3) A celebration of Aof’s favorite themes, and how cool it was to see them being born in HCTM (including the theme of young/first love that I haven’t seen before in his work) 4) A hopefully brief and not angry reflection on shipper culture, homophobia, Ohm, Singto, and how that affected HCTM in the annals of Thai BL

Without having seen his My Dear Loser work, or his screenwriting for Gay OK Bangkok 1 and 2 (which I plan to watch after the OGMMTVC is over, in preparation for Only Friends): HCTM is the first full Aof vehicle to enter my watchlist. So just quickly looking behind me: I’ve had shows like Love Sick, SOTUS, Together With Me, Love By Chance -- shows that began to toe the line, then define the line, then sharpen the line of what BL was. As I wrote in my Love By Chance review last week, I felt that LBC was the first show on my watchlist that felt like a true derivative BL, complete with tropes that had been born during Love Sick and SOTUS, and sharpened over those first few years of the Thai BL industry growing.

So it’s 2019 now, and we get He’s Coming To Me, both written and directed by P’Aof. Tropes? No tropes. What a flip from LBC.

Instead, we get an absolute head-first dive into many of the themes that we see Aof continued to play with in his later works. For me, HCTM evoked Moonlight Chicken the most, especially for what I call the Asianness of this show -- Aof’s unabashed focus on Asian cultural themes and threads that create structure and movement for his characters.

Before I get ahead of myself, I want to thank @telomeke very deeply for chatting with me about how I could learn more about Thai-Chinese culture, because themes and behaviors related to Thai-Chinese demographics are clearly common in Thai BLs, and I’ve felt that it behooved me to learn more about the culture (or as much as I can from the internet) as I continue to review these shows. But @telomeke reminded me that a lot of the assimilation of Chinese cultures and populations mirror the cultural mixing that took and takes place in Malaysia, where a part of my family hails and where I’ve spent a good portion of my life. So I’m relieved that I actually understand more about Thai-Chinese culture than I gave myself credit for, BUT -- that’s only a caveat, because I still have so much more to learn.

I say this because I’m using this word, “Asianness,” to describe in part at least one impression I have about HCTM, which is taking seriously the theme of ghosts and what role ghosts play in a human’s life. We see very often in Japanese doramas the practice of praying at an altar honoring past ancestors -- ancestor culture and worship are big in Japan, and the doramas don’t shy away from that. We see temple trips all the time in doramas and BL doramas -- especially during New Year’s. (Our Dining Table being just the most recent one.) We see Buddhist temple culture in Thai BLs often -- in KinnPorsche, in Bed Friend, in Big Dragon, and very especially in Moonlight Chicken.

I think what I want to point out here, if I can say it eloquently, is that a Western viewer might find more notable in an Asian drama, than in a Western show, the inclusion of practices of spirituality. In the West, spirituality might be indicated by a trip to a church, or prayer. But it strikes me -- and maybe this is because I’m a first-generation Asian-American, my eyes open to ALL the differences between my culture and America -- that Asian dramas incorporate the practices of spirituality more seamlessly, because practices like lighting an incense stick and giving a quick prayer before breakfast is more culturally embedded in places like Japan or Thailand. The practice is there, and you just do it, because that’s what you do for your culture. (I often see a stick of incense lit and burning next to a plate of fruits in the early mornings when I jog past Thai restaurants. It’s just -- what you do.)

It struck me, and I still wonder about it, if Western viewers may have thought that Thun was going overboard with his interest in Thai-Chinese Buddhist practices, including being so diligent about offering alms to the passing monks, going to the temple for merits, and keeping electric incense sticks on him to make sure that Med wouldn’t disappear. An auntie on Whatsapp might cock a curious eyebrow, but also regard Thun as a “good boy” who’s devoted to the temple.

In any case, this struck me particularly deeply, because I think, if P’Aof had been a little more abashed, that he could have toned this theme down -- the theme of the everyday practice of Buddhism.

And he didn’t. He didn’t tone it down. He leveraged it as THE major theme of the drama: that ghosts exist in Thai-Chinese-Buddhist culture and practice, and that some people can communicate with ghosts, including both Thun and his mom. 

The ABSOLUTELY wonderful @telomeke​ affirmed this for me, writing so eloquently: “Underlying HCTM is an unshakeable belief in the spirit world, and it's also a given ... for a majority of people in SE Asia and Thailand in particular that the spiritual realm is as much a part of the everyday world as much as the physical reality of what we can see and touch.”

The reason why I’m hammering on this in particular is because it categorizes the show as one that is utterly representative of A SPECIFIC CULTURE -- just like Moonlight Chicken, with its commentaries on spiritual and economic practices of the particular place of Pattaya. @telomeke​, I know you have specific feelings about the ending of HCTM, which I’ll get to in a moment, but I think for me, the ending of HCTM is deeply satisfying BECAUSE of this connection to Thai-Buddhist culture, what it says about ghosts and spirits, and how they continue to be incorporated in the ongoing life of a young Thai adult like Thun. AND, I appreciated that the ending skirted, just slightly, what we might have expected about someone losing their lover (à la Eternal Yesterday). Thun only temporarily lost Med... but Med still doesn’t quite exist. And I think there’s layers there that I’ll hopefully get to teasing out, either here or in a future post.

Going back to BL tropes and structures... I mean, HCTM was just like, yo, I’m gonna play in another ball field. I’ll have more thoughts on this after I watch Dark Blue Kiss, but at least, as far as I’m aware WITHOUT having seen DBK yet, that it’s not until late 2021 that P’Aof begins playing in the BL sandbox, takes his toy dump truck, and turns the tropes upside down in Bad Buddy.

And I see, in HCTM, P’Aof laying the groundwork for the themes that he DOES love, that I happen to love, and that get repeated in his oeuvre:

- The theme of community: the need for young and old queer individuals to interact with other queer individuals (most recently depicted in OS2/BBS/ATOTS) - The theme of NOSTALGIA: Med having never left his moment 20 years prior, listening to the same music of Thun’s mom’s generation (nostalgia being most recently depicted in Moonlight Chicken) - The parable of 1,000 stars: what it means to be the last star on which to make a wish (most recently depicted in ATOTS and OS2/ATOTS) - The anguish of coming out: Thun, Uncle Jim, Li Ming, Pran coming out to Dissaya -- all heavy, all impactful, all different stories that carry heaviness and their own meaning to each of these incredible characters

And there’s so many more. But what I really want to do, to get up on the rooftops that P’Aof loves so much, and YELL TO THE AIR is:

THE GENIUS, THE SHEER GENIUS, of linking these themes -- many of these as ASIAN themes! -- to specific issues that face the queer community, such as coming out, and being invisible (like a ghost) in a majority cishet society. 

GAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH. Oh, the pain in my heart. This is exactly what I wrote in my notes while rewatching the show: “This is the first time we get Big Cultural Themes outside of issues with the queer community -- and Aof LINKS the Big Cultural Themes WITH queer issues -- the brilliance of it all.” Just like he did subsequently in Moonlight Chicken.

What was so beautiful to me about He’s Coming To Me -- and how it was channeled with GENIUS TALENT AND GRACE from Ohm and Singto -- is that, unlike Moonlight Chicken, this was the story of one young man who needed to sort out his feelings. And there was another young man, a young man who was killed, who HAD begun realizing his feelings, but was trapped by station (from a rich family) and role (the only son in a family). Med even said, it would have been impossible for him to come out as the only son of his family.

As far as we knew, Med had only come out to Kwan, Thun’s mom, before he died. Med may have very well been attracted to other men before he died -- but we see him VISCERALLY attracted to Thun, and vice versa, and that burst of first love for both young men, IN THE CONTEXT OF Thun’s spiritual practice and abilities to BRING Med to “life” in Thun’s life -- I mean. I’m shaking my head. It’s a parable for manifesting what you want in your life, and making it happen. 

And yet, what HCTM also touches on, is that many times, you DON’T get what you want in life. Med WILL disappear one day. He will be reborn. It wasn’t his time at the moment of the ending, but it will be his time one day. Thun only has Med temporarily -- we don’t see the WHEN of that. 

BUT. I would posit (and @telomeke​ and @wen-kexing-apologist​, I wonder what you think of this), à la OS2/Bad Buddy, that P’Aof is OKAY with us not seeing this, and not necessarily considering the ending of HCTM to be a happy ending for Thun and Med. Because he knows -- and he knows that his Asian viewers know -- that Med WILL leave Thun one day. Not yet, though. Thun still has a little time to grow wiser and older and stronger. But Med WILL disappear one day. He had been hinting at it all throughout every episode of the series. He will have to leave Thun’s side. 

I think the way the show ended was graceful. It leaves that door open for Med to find his rebirth, because was a good kid and deserves to be reborn in a happy life. It allows Thun time to grow through his first love -- first love being such an important theme to this show. It’s COMPASSIONATE to Thun, very similar to me to the kind of compassion that P’Aof showed to Uncle Jim throughout Moonlight Chicken, and just now in OS2/ATOTS to Phupha. But it’s also rooted in the SPIRITUAL REALITY that Med WILL leave -- just not yet. And P’Aof is saying, I didn’t need to show y’all, because y’all Asians already know, Med’s outta here one day. 

The other thing to note about the ending is that P’Aof had already shown a tremendous amount of Thun’s pain. Thun wasn’t necessarily HAPPY in this show. He was curious, exploring, and loyal to Med. While Thun is clearly a young man who DEMONSTRATES happiness -- MY GAWD, the 19-year-old smile of Ohm Pawat!!! -- I wouldn’t say that he was a happy child. He lost his dad young. He was SCARED as hell for potentially letting his mom down. And: he had a lot of secrets to keep. The secret of being gay. The secret of being able to see and talk to ghosts.

“He’s coming to me.” Thun comes out, twice. He’s gay, and can see ghosts. 

Even though others can’t see ghosts, I can. Even though others aren’t gay, I’m gay. Mom: I’m different. 

When Thun sobs for Med while holding onto the jar of stars in his bedroom. When Thun spins around, looking for Med on the rooftop in episode five. When Thun calls for Med and Med isn’t there. Thun is alone. He is alone with his secrets, and Med is not there -- he is NOT coming to Thun in those moments -- and Thun is left alone, different and unique, as he has been his whole life.

I’d posit that that uniqueness is particularly difficult to deal with in collectivist Asian societies as in Thailand -- which led, in part, to Thun not knowing the language of his feelings as he came out to Med in episode five on the rooftop, and being SCARED, to his bones, to come out to his friends and his mom in episode six.

For 2019: I see this show as being ahead of its time, way ahead of its time. I have lots of theories as to why this show isn’t considered a more striking part of the canon of Thai BLs, and the incredible @bengiyo​ and @shortpplfedup​ have helped me to understand the magnitude of the impact that P’Aof made in breaking up the KristSingto ship to pair Singto with Ohm -- and how the fan shippers came for HCTM, and pushed GMMTV to hide this show for years before finally releasing it on YouTube with subs.

But besides that fucking bullshit, which I’ll return to in a second, I also want to note that maybe -- considering that we have more years now, after 2019, to consider the massive trove of Thai BLs that exist now -- the skirting of the still-nascent BL tropes framework was too early for many when this show came out. As I’ve demonstrated here in this piece -- this show’s complicated. There’s A LOT A LOT. I mean, I’m in love with P’Aof’s work because I LIKE HAVING A LOT in my shows. But you go a flip side and you get Together With Me and MaxTul with love bites and throaty kisses (in the words of Seinfeld, not that there’s anything wrong with that). 

HCTM is heavy. It carried a lot that wasn’t overtly sexual by nature, like many BLs at that moment in 2019 and right beforehand (randy Perth, randy MaxTul, etc.).

I understand from @bengiyo​ and @shortpplfedup​ that, because Ohm needed to move on from Make It Right and the OhmToey ship due to Toey leaving BL after MIR, and Ohm joining forces with Singto, that Ohm received massive criticism, and continues to be a subject of criticism and bullying today (some of which I’ve seen on this site). And that Singto was also the subject of online bullying as well.

With all of this in mind -- Ohm, Singto, and the unique nature of HCTM -- I’m continuing to mull over the issue of homophobia in shipper culture. If BLs are reduced down SIMPLY to the pairings that lead these shows -- and that there’s an EXPECTATION that the shows NEED to depict certain acts of queer sexuality, SPECIFICALLY among actors who identify as straight -- that seems straight up homophobic to me.

I can see HCTM being too ahead of its time to begin shifting that paradigm. I’ll see what Dark Blue Kiss does next in the Aof oeuvre from this purview, but what I want to get at is:

IT IS CRIMINAL THAT HCTM ISN’T MORE WIDELY KNOWN. This show is affecting me literally at the same level as Bad Buddy and Moonlight Chicken.

What HCTM HELD by way of Asian culture and spirituality, by the RESPECT IT HAD for the experience of first young queer love, by LEVERAGING the ABSOLUTE BRILLIANCE OF ACTING OF OHM AND SINGTO (omg, AND SINE INTHIRA, are you kidding me?!?!?), and, oh shit, by BRINGING THAT ALL TOGETHER? To TELL a story of queerness and spirituality in Thailand?

Fuck. I’m just shaking my head. If it’s too much for the shipper folk, then... okay, go off. Leave the good stuff to me and the fam that GETS IT — the fam that gets that what we’re watching is ART, and not intended vessels for fantasy and fetish.

Last notes. I just want to say that in my SOTUS reviews, that I theorized that Singto would be brilliant when paired with a really good actor, and HCTM proved it to me. If it weren’t for this fucking shipper bullshit, I would have liked to see Singto and Ohm paired again.

Ohm is probably the most prevalent actor on my Thai BL list. I get that he was nicknamed “the king of BL,” and that he’s been the target of bias for that label and his predilection for being utterly brilliant in telling queer stories (thank you to @bengiyo​ and @miscellar​ for helping to fill me in on this).

Let me just say that this man is a goddamn MASTER. @shortpplfedup​ nailed it in her Ohm appreciation post.  @absolutebl summarizes why Ohm is singular in this BL space. Shippers who want to bully the mans, bring him down or whatever, spread misinformation, I want to say, angrily and rudely -- fuck off, and be afraid of talent in y’alls lives. 

With the tangle of homophobia and cyberbullying that seem to have an overstated impact on the Thai BL industry, it is a damn shame that Ohm doesn’t get more of his flowers, because he makes shows better. I mean: this guy OWNS ROOFTOPS. Episode five of HCTM?! Episode five of Bad Buddy?! Get this guy on a rooftop and he will SLAY. Pair him with people -- Singto? Nanon? Perth? OHM MAKES THESE GUYS BETTER ACTORS than they ever were previously.

I say the following, in all honesty, with a touch of disdain, of condescension, and sadness, for the people who don’t watch this show because it doesn’t have pectorals or hot make-out sessions, and because it features actors that many fans might want to bully:

HCTM does not have the reputation that it deserves. It’s not just a good show. It’s an HONORABLE show. For me, it pays homage to Asian cultures and practices that I relate to. It features a story of queer revelations and love that is written with passion and respect. It features probably the best acting I’ve seen so far on my watchlist. And it features two actors who were willing to subvert expectations, at the risk of their own careers, to tell this story, as written and directed by one of of the most brilliant, subversive, experimental, and creative filmmakers I’ve ever watched in Aof Noppharnach.

I want and need BL fans to appreciate Asian culture more in these shows. And I want and need BL fans to appreciate human behavior development as well. Because P’Aof is telling stories out here, stories that can enrich our lives. I wrote in my Bad Buddy thesis that BBS will be required viewing for my children. HCTM joins that list. HCTM makes me want to be a better Asian mother, and to make a world for my children where the experience of first love and coming out can be regarded not with pain, but with celebration and joy.

[It’s going to take me a while to get over HCTM, but I’ve already begun Dark Blue Kiss, and am having a FABULOUS time with it. That opening theme! P’Aof and JOCKS! Yum. Another frappé, please.

Here’s the updated list! Much to the chagrin of everyone-I-know-on-Tumblr (I’M SORRY @shortpplfedup​), I’m adding a VERY fast rewatch of ATOTS. Blame it on Our Skyy 2. I’ll want to watch ATOTS after the cinematic affair that is ITSAY, and after I’ve seen P’Aof do his thing on two existing series in DBK/Kiss and Still 2gether. ATOTS was my very first P’Aof series, and I want to rewatch it in chronology.

Here we go. As always, I’ll take recs, comments, etc.!

1) Love Sick and Love Sick 2 (2014 and 2015) (review here) 2) Make It Right (2016) (review here) 3) SOTUS (2016-2017) (review here) 4) Make It Right 2 (2017) (review here) 5) Together With Me (2017) (review here) 6) SOTUS S/Our Skyy x SOTUS (2017-2018) (review here) 7) Love By Chance (2018) (review here) 8) Kiss Me Again: PeteKao cuts (2018) 9) He’s Coming To Me (2019)  10) Dark Blue Kiss (2019) and Our Skyy x Kiss Me Again (2018) (watching) 11) TharnType (2019) 12) Senior Secret Love: Puppy Honey (BL cuts) (2016 and 2017) (I’m watching this out of order just to get familiar with OffGun before Theory of Love -- will likely not review) 13) Theory of Love (2019) 14) Dew the Movie (2019) (not an official part of the OGMMTVC watchlist, but I want to watch this in chronological order with everything else) 15) Until We Meet Again (2019-2020) 16) 2gether (2020) 17) Still 2gether (2020) 18) I Told Sunset About You (2020) 19) Manner of Death (2020-2021) (not a true BL, but a MaxTul queer/gay romance set within a genre-based show that likely influenced Not Me and KinnPorsche) 20) A Tale of Thousand Stars (2021) (review here) 21) A Tale of Thousand Stars (2021) OGMMTVC Fastest Rewatch Known To Humankind For The Sake Of Rewatching Our Skyy 2 x BBS x ATOTS 22) Lovely Writer (2021) 23) I Promised You the Moon (2021) 24) Not Me (2021-2022) 25) Bad Buddy (2021-2022) (thesis here) 26) Bad Buddy (2021-2022) and Our Skyy 2 x BBS x ATOTS (2023) OGMMTVC Rewatch 27) Secret Crush On You (2022) [watching for Cheewin’s trajectory of studying queer joy from Make It Right (high school), to SCOY (college), to Bed Friend (working adults)] 28) KinnPorsche (2022) (tag here) 29) The Eclipse (2022) (tag here) 30) My School President (2022-2023) 31) Moonlight Chicken (2023) (tag here) 32) Bed Friend (2023) (tag here) (Cheewin’s latest show, depicting a queer joy journey among working adults)]

[bambambunny]

Fatui Cat (Segment Edition!) pt. 2

Once again I am so so sorry it's been a month. I know how annoying it is for chapters to be slow and this one's pretty short. I have no real excuse but pls enjoy.

Warnings: little bit of existential horror, it gets kinda intense pls be advised

Relationships: Platonic segments / gn cat!reader

Summary: you observe the segments and the reality of your situation finally sets in.

Wc: 705

Part 1

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Slowly but surely, everyone settles into the rhythm of their projects. What a lovely introduction, well aside from being dropped but you’re a sturdy little thing. You let your gaze wander from one segment to the next, from your spot by the door. They didn't exactly all look like the Dottore you knew, they were all different ages. To someone who didn't know better, they would have looked like brothers.

There was the oldest looking one, judging by the greying hair and beard, he seemed to be pouring over some dusty tomes. You recall how he gave #7 room to compose himself. He probably wouldn't be too adverse to you being here. Perhaps like Pierro if he wasn't such a sourpuss…

There was a slightly younger clone, maybe 50; You were never good at estimating ages. In your professional opinion, this one would be the dilf of the squad. He’s furiously scribbling on some blue prints and he has several coffee mugs around him.

One segment looks almost exactly like Normal Dottore and he’s tinkering with his own biometrics. Gross. You get that they’re robots or whatever but it looks like he has blood. Ok thats enough! On to the next one...

There's one who looks like he’d be in college, shorter hair and kinda lanky and no eye mask. He has a whiteboard in front of him with a maddening amount of equations. Good god, there's more letters than numbers! You look away before you get an aneurysm.

Another segment, like the one before but even younger, is flitting about his desk stacked with various terrariums. You can't see what sort of animal the terrariums hold from your spot on the floor but you catch a glimpse of some tropical looking leaves and a heat light. He gets something from a minifridge nestled in a corner and retrieves something that looks like mice? You walk a bit closer and notice they’re glowing an unnatural purple. Nevermind.

The electric crackle of a welding machine catches your attention. When you turn to look, there is a teenager working on a massive robot. And it's not just massive to a cat, it's massive. Suddenly it powers up! You dash away to a dark quiet corner.

Everything’s so big and loud and you don't like it! You push yourself further into the corner and hide your face in your own fur.

Your breath starts to hasten.

It feels like you can't breathe.

For the first time, since you got here, you feel scared. You'd been so caught up in the wonder of a world you only ever saw on a screen that it hadn't occurred to you that you were stuck.

You were stuck.

In this world, in this nation, in this palace, in this body.

There is no feasible way to gain back any of the control you once had – back when you were behind a screen, with a simple user interface and a few buttons to press, you can't even have the control of just some normal human!

You're scared and alone in a place you don't fully understand. No matter how closely you hold yourself to familiar characters, they won't really understand what you are or what you've lost.

As of now, you are the only person in this entire world who holds the knowledge of Earth, of its customs…

…of your life.

One day you will forget, and the memory of your humanity will be lost forever.

…

…

Is this what you wanted?

You are ripped from your thoughts by a gentle but firm hand, it carries you up then presses you to the chest of someone that smells like dust and chemicals. You look up and realise it's the old man.

He pets your head gently, "oh poor thing, did the machines frighten you?

You nudge your head against his hand in conformation. He makes a small hum of consideration then begins to walk to his desk, still holding you.

"I know Prime said not to, but it would not do to leave you like this", he rests you in his lap then continues to mull about his dusty old tomes. He keeps a hand petting your fur until you fall asleep.

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Taglist:

@etherisy @franc-1-s @assassinsnek101

(If you wanna be removed or added to the taglist pls comment)

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Moonlight -x- Sunlight

ch.3 -- Demons' 101 (cw// banner has flashing txt!)

r.kyojuro/f.reader

genre: modern!au, teacher!kyojuro by day/demonslayer by night, izakayaworker!reader, slowburn?, romance, angst

warning(s): slight implications of anxiety, rengoku info-dumps about demons, Taco being Taco

w.count: 6.3k

synopsis: if someone told you that one night you’d find yourself walking down the street at three in the morning before you were running for your life away from a disjointed monster hot on your heels- you’d probably check for fever or intoxication. but, when that actually happens, all you think of is running and praying for a miracle as you stare death in the face. turns out, that miracle comes in the form of reassuring smiles and a red sword beneath a bridge and by the riverside.

-x-x-x-

a/n: hope y'all are ready bc shes back!! read the a/n pt.2 at the end for further instructions heheh (if there's still grammatical errors soz i edited this in chunks and couldn't be bothered to reread everything one more time)

-x-x-x-

You were slouched against your locker in the back room where your aprons and extra clothes are kept by the end of your shift. The izakaya had finally closed, and while it was closed earlier than usual since patrons seemed to have filed out pretty quick tonight, the way your throbbing ankle felt didn't make the early closing any better. You had willed away most of the pain, carrying on as if nothing was wrong, and kept yourself busy with micro-breaks here and there, but now that it was all said and done, well, you’ve felt better. 

You quickly took off your apron and tossed it in your locker and grabbed your purse, slinging it over your shoulder. Snatching your crutch, you placed it under your shoulder and sighed when you lifted your foot and relieved it of your weight. 

“Christ,” you mutter to yourself before you’re hobbling your way out of the locker room, through the main lobby all the way to the entrance. You shouted to whoever may be around still, be it lingering coworkers or your boss, before you slid open the door and left. With a small show of your balance, you pushed the door shut with your crutch as you stood on your one good leg before bringing the crutch back down where it needed to be. 

You sidle to the right away from the entrance, just out of reach for the hanging lamps to cast a shadow over you when you take a shaky breath. You found yourself paranoid in the early morning hours- but, you couldn’t blame yourself. The last time you were out this late after a shift, you almost died. You took a deep breath, then another… then another. You try calming yourself down, convincing yourself that what happened was a once-in-a-lifetime freak accident and there was no way you’d be unlucky enough to get caught up in something like that again. 

“It’s fine,” you tell yourself. “I’m fine,” you repeat. The palm you used to grab the handle of your crutch felt sweaty, so you took it off for a moment and furiously wiped it on your shirt before returning it.  “You’re going to be fine,” you hiss to yourself, looking down at your feet, one uninjured and the other replaced with a crutch foot. The same feet that still wouldn’t move despite your pep talk. 

Stuck in your mental battle on when you’re finally going to get your limbs to start taking you home, you completely miss the person walking up behind you until they call out to you. 

“Is your ankle in much pain?” 

You squawk, your crutch jumping out away from your leg and making your teeter before correcting yourself and using your other arm to reach across your body and grab onto the medical addition to your body in further stability. Whipping your head up, you once again come face to face with Rengoku. Still smiling, even if there’s a hint of concern in his wide eyes since he didn’t exactly mean to spook you. You also took notice of his arms that were outstretched and ready to catch you if you began careening down to the pavement.

You correct your posture and face him, feeling embarrassed for a number of reasons. 

“I’m slated to never have a normal greeting with you, am I?” You speak more to yourself than him since every time you’ve encountered him so far- not including when he was a paying customer not so long ago- has been riddled with embarrassment or fear. You’ve come face to face with him three times now, and you conducted yourself better in front of Kocho who you had met once and stripped down to your bones in front of. “What are you still doing out at this hour?” 

“I am doing a simple round of patrols for this sector of the city,” he tells you and your eyes finally drift down to see the white sheath on his hip supported by the harness he wore on his chest and over his shoulders- the same items he had when you first saw him. Seeing them again made a lump form in your throat that you tried to choke down. You felt a bit stupid for the question because what else would he be doing out this late when you’ve seen first hand what could happen. 

“Yeah, sorry,” you shake your head and scoff at yourself, “I could’ve guessed.” 

“No need to apologize!” That didn’t exactly reassure you. Rengoku was good at reading people, he spent a lot of time doing so among his years, so your unsteady and somewhat jittery presence did not fly over his head. “Are you heading home?” 

“Planning on it, yeah.” 

“It’s much earlier than last time, that is good!” 

“It was a slow night so we closed down earlier.” 

“Would you like an escort home?” 

“An escort?” Your words were short as you confirm what he’s just asked you. Part of you hates that he basically just told you that he can see your paranoia and anxiousness as clear as day. You glance away and gnaw at your lip, conflicted. You most certainly didn’t want to walk home alone, the nightmarish memories haunting you like a... well like a demon. But you also didn’t want to appear fragile because you couldn’t walk home like you had a thousand times before. 

You take a deep, shaky breath as Rengoku steps closer to you, his hair lighting up further as he gets closer to the hanging lanterns behind you. The colors and shades nearing the light resembling a warm campfire to keep woodland terrors at bay. A safe beacon.

“It is not wrong to be afraid.” 

“I'm not!” You instinctively argue back, but immediately bite your own tongue realizing that raising your voice at his kindness was most certainly rude. However, even a two year old could tell that your words were clearly a lie. You sigh again, apologizing for your outburst. “Yes, I am,” you admit more to yourself than to him.

Rengoku just smiles down at your averted eyes and moves to stand beside you before gently slipping your purse off your shoulder and slotting it up his arm to rest on his own. He outstretched his opposite arm as he caught your eyes again and gently signaled you to start moving at your own pace. 

“Allow me to walk you home then.” With him already having taken your purse and gestured his intent to not be swayed on his decision, you smirk teasing up at him and chuckle. 

“Arguing won’t get me anywhere, will it?” 

Not that you really wanted it to.

“It will not!” Well, at least he was honest. 

The walk back was relatively quiet, save for the nighttime crickets that chirped along with the toads hidden away in corners. The sounds of the cicadas had lessened from this afternoon to a dull buzz instead of mind-numbing shrills. You kept taking glances at Rengoku, your purse hanging off the shoulder closest to you as you hobbled along on your crutches. You could barely see the tip of his sword's hilt from around him without being too obvious you were even looking to begin with. He must’ve kept it as horizontal to his leg as possible to avoid catching whatever riff-raff attention could be mangling around. 

“Does something interest you?” Apparently, you weren’t as sneaky as you thought. You shoot your gaze forwards, nearly stumbling on your set of extra rubber feet and clearing your throat, the summer air suddenly way too dry for the humid season. 

“I just, well, I didn’t think you’d notice?” You tell him honestly. He chuckles at your words and you feel a little better since he doesn’t sound freaked out by your clearly awkward behavior. “I guess I was a little curious about your, what do you call it, second job? The whole,” you lift one of your crutches, stopping your movements momentarily as you whip it around and grunt (rather embarrassingly) before putting it back down, “sword job thing?” 

He laughs before letting out a small “Ah!” in recognition of your curiosity. Maybe it was because of the early hours, but part of you feared an apartment window flicking on in response to his boisterous laughter. Still, you easily admitting to yourself that it was a lovely sound. 

“Curiosity may not be the wisest decision when it is about what goes on after the sun sets. Sometimes, it’s best that people believe demon’s are nothing but fictional stories made up simply to spook children.” 

“Oh,” you were a little disappointed. You had already been attacked and injured, it’s not like you’d call him a liar if he told you. “I see.” You still wanted to know more, even if it was terrifying. With your crestfallen expression and new goal to just get home without creating an uncomfortable atmosphere, you missed the small look the flame-haired man gave you. 

“Regardless of my skills, being out so late at night can be dangerous for anyone,” he starts, eyes casting forwards once more as he continues to lead you home. “There are many kinds of demons under the moon, and some can be more ferocious than others. If one catches sight of myself or another of my…” he pauses to find a decent word. “... coworkers,” he decides on, “chances are split that they flee from us, or do the opposite and begin a confrontation if they’re feeling particularly omnipotent.” 

That small piece of information made you feel a little better about his choice to stay quiet about it all, his choice to disclose that even he wasn’t always 100% safe was bone chilling. Still, it did not soothe your curiousity completely. You decided to shake it off, you were acting like a child- it wasn’t your business and this man was nothing more than a stranger you’ve run into a couple times. The fact he literally saved your life had nothing to do with it- you had to let it go. 

It was rude to pry. 

“Perhaps when we get to your home I can answer your questions there.” You stop in your limping steps as you look at him. He was smiling at you, something warm and comforting and you seemed to light up. “That is if I would be allowed inside a young woman’s house at this hour.” 

“Of course!” Perhaps you were too loud because you immediately covered your mouth with one hand, nearly dropping one of your crutches. You look around, seeing no light flick on and no windows opening to yell for you to keep it down. You lower your hand, a small smile on your face as you clear your throat. “Of course,” you repeat, much more quietly this time. “As long as you don’t mind a temporarily handicapped host and one obnxiously sassy cat.” 

He laughs loudly again. “I happen to be fond of cats and your company as well!” 

“We’ve met twice, and one of those times I was covered in grass stains, dirt, and sweat.”

“I am a very good judge of character!” You roll your eyes, but somehow, you believe him. 

-x-x-x-

“Um, just take your shoes off at the door please.” You tell Rengoku as you sit yourself on the small stool you’ve set up by the front door so you can take your shoes off without much fuss. He easily complies, as he steps into your house only to turn and patiently wait for you to finish up. As you drop your shoes, he offers his arm as you gratefully take it and hoist yourself up with the use of the cane you keep at your door in exchange for your crutches. 

In the comfort of your own home that you could maneuver through blindfolded, you greatly preferred the short, ease of use of a cane. You kept it a secret from Kocho though, who knows if she’d scold you for the unprompted buy since she was probably the most professional and strict doctor you’ve been the patient of. 

Luckily, since Rengoku had been in your home this much before, he let you use his arm with your free hand all the way until you got into the living room. Much like how he carried you in before. You slip your palm off his forearm and step around him, much less clunky without your crutches. 

“Have a seat. I don’t have much to offer, but I do have cold bottled water I can promise hasn't been opened,” you joke as he laughs. 

“I appreciate the hospitality, however you do not need to-” 

“Ah-tata,” you cut him off, “just because my foot isn’t at peak recovery doesn’t mean I can’t get you a small bottle of water. The kitchen isn’t far anyways.” Rengoku relented. Just as it was impossible to argue with him, it seemed to go both ways. He smiled. 

He liked that. 

As you disappeared into the kitchen, a small meow and curious tap against his shin caught his attention as he stood by the couch. He smiled down at the black cat as he slid his sword out of the harness he wore and set it gently against the couch so as to not startle your pet. He knelt, offering his hand out as Taco’s little nose bumped against it, sniffing before rubbing his head against the warm knuckles of Rengoku. 

“Aren’t you cute,” he mumbles to himself. 

“Only around guests,” you add, coming back into the living room to see Rengoku loving on your cat. “He’s cute now, but he’s a big pain in my butt when he wants to be.” You offer him a cold bottle of some random brand of water you bought on sale.

“Aren’t many animals that way?” He graciously takes the plastic bottle from you, the chill of it is a welcome change in his warm palm. 

“I think it’s because I spoil him too much. He was a very unprompted rescue, so I went a little overboard raising him.” 

“There is nothing wrong with raising an animal with so much care! He seems very happy!” 

You plop yourself on the couch and Taco was quick to abandon Rengoku’s side in favor of yourself as he jumped on the cushions and stepped onto your lap where he folded his legs and lay himself down. You scratch at his back, making him stretch and roll before he’s trying to play and swipe at your hand and fingers. 

The small little tag that read ‘TACO’ in engraved letters caught Rengoku’s eye and he chuckled at the name. Indeed, that was a very happy and loved cat, he had no doubt. 

“You’re welcome to sit on the couch,” you lightly joke at his still kneeling form on your livingroom floor. He does as you suggest, thanking you before sitting a cushion away from you as to not push personal boundaries or opposingly seem too standoff-ish. It was quiet for a bit as you fiddle with your own waterbottle in your hand. “I hope I’m not causing any trouble,” you announce bashfully. 

“Pardon?” 

“Well,” you breathe, untwisting, then retwisting, just to untwist your bottle cap again to try and focus on something other than your sudden anxiety. “I just sort of dragged you here. I dunno, I feel like I’m pulling you away from your job? I know how important it is.” 

“Worry not,” he quells. “There are many others like myself who also patrol the streets when the sun sets! I am not the only one, so my company here is no trouble at all!” 

“Oh, right, you mentioned other coworkers. Are there a lot of you?” 

“There is! We’re an organization of many people, but since we’re unrecognized by the government and since people do not believe in demon’s unless they survive an encounter with one, we are very scarcely known.” You nod at him. You feel a little sad at the fact he, and others like him, were risking their safety and no one even knew. “In fact, there are even a few of my students who work along side me as well!” 

“Students?” You whip your full attention to him at mention of children. “You’re a teacher?” 

“I am!” 

“And you all just, what? Let children into your little demon-slaying job?” 

“Well, not exactly, no.” Rengoku worried he wold break into a sweat at your accusatory tone of getting children involved in clearly dangerous work. “Although it is dangerous, younger slayers are put through rigirous training and must past a very specific qualification test before they can even take to the field like I do. We of higher ranking always make sure to watch out for our young underlings. They are our future after all!” 

The idea of kids fighting those… things still didn’t sit quite right with you, but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. And if Rengoku says that they’re well taken care of, and skillful above that, then surely they weren’t in too much danger. You wanted to trust his words so you shut your eyes and willed yourself to do so.

“Plus, we are not so reckless as to just assign anything to anyone. No demon is slain by a slayer who is weaker than the task at hand. We’re very meticulous about such things.” 

“I understand.” You open your eyes and glance over at your cane for a moment then speak up again. “So, what are demons exactly?” 

“Demons are former humans who have either been killed and revived by demon blood, or made a deal with another demon for power.” 

“Former humans?” Your mind flashed back to the spindly, disfigured, skeletal demon that attacked you. “So, that thing that attacked me? That was once a person?” Rengoku nodded and a chill ran violently down your spine. 

“At some point, yes it was. However, based on its appearance, it must’ve been a demon for a very long time to change that much.” That didn’t exactly make you feel better about it. “You must understand that demons are dangerous creatures regardless of what they used to be. They will not hesitate to attack and slaughter humans. We do not kill demons for sport, it is necessary to protect future victims.” 

“I believe you and I understand- I do, it’s just… a lot to process, I guess?” You blow a harsh breath out of your lips. “So, how do you kill them? I mean with your sword I guess, but is there any other way?” 

Rengoku nodded, grabbing his sword’s scabbard and hilt before drawing it. The red blade you had gotten a glimpse of the night of the attack shone brilliantly in your well-lit living room. It was truly a beautiful blade to look at and the sword guard in the shape of flames was very fitting to its wielder. 

“To kill a demon it must be done with a very specific sword with a blade made out of a specific mineral that’s been bathed in sunlight for many years. This is a nichirin sword, a sword that has a color changing blade.” 

“So, a regular sword wouldn’t work?” 

“Correct!” He offers his sword over for you to hold and inspect it. You gently take it from him after you move Taco out of the way so that he wouldn’t start playing with it like it was a toy. “You can hack a demon into pieces with a regular blade, but it will always regenerate. A demon must be decapitated with a nichirin sword or it will continue to wreck havoc.” You hand the sword back to him and he easily sheaths it with practiced ease. “However, there are ways to defend yourself from demons, if you’d like to hear?” 

You nod, intrigued by the entirely new concept of the world you had been so oblivious to for so many years of your life. You wanted to know more, to understand more. It was captivating and if he was willing to tell, you were willing to listen. 

“There are special guns forged in our line of work that have crafted bullets that cause great harm to demons! Among other ways to deter them, demons are unable to stand wisteria.” 

“Wistera? Like the flower?” 

“Yes! Clusters of Wisteria trees are always a safe place to run to in the event one is close by. Even wisteria-scented charms and poisons are toxic and painful to their kind, they actively avoid anything to do with it. In fact, Kocho is a demon slayer, the same as I!” 

“Really?!” Rengoku laughs loudly at your shock, but after a moment it did make sense. She was specifically referred by him and knew everything about what you experienced and believed it easily. If you had stopped to think about it, it was pretty easy to assume she was involved somehow, but a fighter? That was a bit of a shock considering her stature.

“Though she does not have the strength to cut a demon’s head off its shoulders, she’s developed a technique that incorporates poisons in her duty that are lethal upon injection.”

“Wow,” you awe. She was more impressive by the day. 

“Of course, it helps that she’s also a very skilled doctor!” 

“That’s true,” you lightly giggle. There’s silence in your living room once more as you glance over at the blond haired man. “So,” you start and gain his attention, “you’re a teacher?” You already knew the answer, he answered you earlier but it was the best ice breaker you could think of.  

“That is correct.” 

“I feel like I could’ve guessed if you didn’t already tell me. You explain things well. Your students must like you.” 

“I cannot say how well I am at teaching in particular, but my student’s grades never drop to failing marks! You must keep the children interested in the lesson if you wish for them to grow. I do my best to achieve nothing less!” 

“What do you teach?” 

“History! I find it very fascinating- the past that is.” You nod. “Not to mention, I have been teaching my younger brother many things since we were young and I always enjoyed doing so. So, the profession grew on me. I very quickly knew what I wanted to do with my life during the time the sun is in the sky.” 

“A younger brother? How old is he?” 

“He’s currently in high school. Despite our age gap, we get along very well!” 

“That’s great that you both get along. I’m an only child myself, but I do have a younger cousin. He feels more like a kid brother though, so I can sort of understand. The school’s he’s attending right now has dorm buildings for it’s students, so we don’t visit much,” you reminisce as you comfortably cross your arms. 

“I’m sure you miss him.” 

“Sometimes,” you chuckle. “Then there are times I’m glad he’s not actually my brother, as horrible as that sounds.” 

“Regardless, I’m sure he feels the same!” 

Thankfully, before the conversation took a turn for the mushy, Taco started to meow at you. He had jumped onto the floor earlier after being taken off your lap and roamed before coming back to paw at your leg. You leaned down and scratched under his chin as you felt him purr. 

“I know, you need to be fed,” you tell him as you start coddling him. You excuse yourself as Rengoku got off the couch to help you to your feet before you were off to the kitchen again, Taco trotting eagerly behind you. 

In the silence of your living room alone again, Kyojuro Rengoku looked around the room at all the decorations. Some frames on the wall here, some dry plants there, a couple cat toys scattered around the floor that was no doubt Taco’s doing, and a grey cat tower was close to the main window in the room where the dark curtains were drawn for the night. Despite all that he was visually taking in, he was stuck in his thoughts.  

Kyojuro was always a people person, he enjoyed chatting and making connections, it was another reason he loved teaching so much.  Something about tonight felt different to him though. Like this one experience with this one person- you- was something out of the ordinary. LIke it was something special. 

When you came back from feeding Taco, you carried random conversation topics before an ill-timed alarm went off on his phone that had been stuffed in his pocket this whole time. The sudden sound startled you and Rengoku was quick to apologize before realizing how late it was. If he didn’t get home and get at least some sleep, tomorrow’s lesson would surely be a lackadaisical one. 

You saw him out, despite how much he insisted you not be on your feet, and before you knew it he was outside your door and then gone. 

“He’s fast,” you muttered to the air he used to occupy before shutting your door and double-checking to make sure you did in fact lock it. You looked at both sides of your front door devoid of any decorations. “Maybe I should get some tables or something to put some flowers on so the front entrance isn’t so boring.” 

With that last thought, you called for Taco because you needed to get to bed yourself. Sleep found you easily as opposed to the last few nights, and with it brought nothing but calm darkness. You were grateful for a night of sleep without nightmares.

-x-x-x-

Another week had passed and a small part of you was disappointed that you hadn’t heard or seen heads or tails of Rengoku again. He hadn’t been by the izakaya with his friend or anyone else for that matter, and you haven’t had the pleasure of running into him in the streets. Of course, the moment the feeling of disappointment nagged at you, you immediately tried to squash it down.

Despite the fact that he was A) someone who saved your life and B) a man you allowed into your home a grand total of two times didn’t erase the fact that he was still practically a stranger. A stranger who spilled his guts about his profession and gave a brief history lesson about demons in your living room, but a stranger nonetheless. 

Your foot had improved drastically since a week ago and you could now walk without dragging a crutch or cane around with you. The pain would still sometimes ebb at the joint, but you’d always try and find a place for a pitstop to rest and take any on-hand pain medication before it got too bad. 

Your current pitstop? Your local library. 

You didn’t really have any explanation why you decided to come here on your spare time, furthermore why you were nosing around in the historical section. Granted, the books you picked up weren’t full of information you didn’t already know- but you still flipped through the pages standing in the empty isle regardless completely engrossed in the material.

After your skip around history, you made sure to replace all the books from where you got them (or the best you could remember) and moved to make your way out into the open space between sections. The library attendant's desk with a single employee sitting behind it with their nose in a book to pass by the shift was within sight of the wide open space. 

The day was slowly starting to wane and you sat yourself at an unoccupied table close to a window that showed the streets that were starting the transformation of throngs of people to freckles of bodies. You push your chin into your palm as you watch out the window mindlessly. You didn’t have a shift tonight that demanded your attendance and you felt restless. It was strange, normally you’d have no issues just spending a lazy day inside on the time you didn’t have plans or work. 

Now? Now you felt like any free moment you spent inside was wasted. You felt bad about it since you were leaving Taco alone, but you promised that you’d take your beloved cat out on more walks if this new behavior keeps up. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a harness and leash for walking, it was purely because finding the right time to take him out never worked in your favor. 

You blew air out your lips as you lay your head down on the table. Maybe it was the fact that you experienced a near-death experience and were recovering from it that made you not want to take time for granted. You cringed at your cliche thinking. 

You didn’t sit at the table long, grabbing your purse and making sure you didn’t leave anything behind before you left the library entirely- it was getting close to closing hours anyways. The last thing you needed was a staff member chasing you out. 

The sky bathed the concrete jungle that was the thinning streets a warm orange as you felt the simmering of heat stick uncomfortably to your skin and under yout clothes. The walk back home felt shorter than it was and when Taco didn’t come running to the sound of the opening and closing door, you felt confusion morph your face. Was he sleeping? Normally, he would be rushing to the door before you managed to slam it shut and lock it while he cried at his once again failure to bolt out the door. 

His escape artistry isn’t as honed as other alley cats and he had a hard time accepting that if it wasn’t obvious by the fits he throws. 

Toeing your shoes off, you stepped inside and as you got closer to your living room you could hear rattling. Rattling? You speed up your steps thinking your nosey cat had gotten into or broken something and was foolishly playing with the pieces, but when you come into the living room with the waning sunlight forcing your to turn on the house lights, you gasp at what you see. 

It was Taco, your beloved cat, yes, but he hadn’t knocked anything down or broken anything that your eye could see. Instead, he was sitting on his cat tower that sat by the large window of your living room you would normally decorate for holidays pawing at the glass as a large black bird sat opposite of him behind the pane. 

The bird, you couldn’t tell what kind from your shock and slight panic-blinded eyes, was sat perfectly still on the outside of the window, knocking its beak lightly against the glass every time Taco mewled or pawed. Its head turned and cocked when it noticed the light flick on and you swore you saw its dark eyes zero in on you before its wings spread out wide spooking Taco off of his tower and onto the floor where he made a less than gracious landing. 

Its wings flapped and then folded back in before tapping two more times on the window. You swallowed the lump in your throat before you slowly treaded up to the window. The bird's beak and eyes followed you, lifting higher to keep its sight on your face the closer you got before you were standing next to Taco’s tower. The black cat himself had seemingly forgotten about the mysterious bird and instead took purchase weaving between your ankles and rubbing his fur over you, soaking in your scent of outside. 

“Are you stuck,” you lightly ask the bird as if he could answer you. Maybe he had flown into your window by mistake- that happens sometimes in tall buildings right? Birds not telling the difference between open space and glass? But, when you looked at his taloned feet there was nothing constriction him and his body was free of anything binding him too, the evidence was in the way his wings would still occasional expand then fold again. It was like he was inviting you to do something. 

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t speak bird. 

You jumped when its beak opened and a sharp, quick nose came out. A muffled caw! catching you by surprise as you nearly tripped over Taco’s still-weaving body. Then, the bird’s beak came to tap at the metal frame where the lock was. 

Did it want inside? Could you really do that? Let some random bird inside your house after it’s been sitting outside your livingroom window for god knows how long just entertaining your cat while you were gone? 

All probability flew out the proverbial window when you, without thinking, unlatched the window and slid it open allowing the big blackbird to fly right in. You screamed, not in terror, but in more shock as it flew inside and the flap of its wings was louder than you were expecting. 

The bird flew a lap around your living room before coming around to you and landing on Taco’s tower beside your shoulder. It was staring at you at eye level now and you could finally identify the bird as a crow. You knew that crows were intelligent birds, but this was clearly a trained bird, not just some random bird who decided to make a nest in your home for no good reason. 

You flinched for the umptheeth time when the crow’s left wing expanded and exposed half of it’s body. You were fully expecting it to folded up again, but it didn’t. Then you noticed it, a small crimson thread tied around it’s leg with a small dark capsule attached to it. 

You relaxed your shoulders and chuckled. 

“What are you, a messenger pigeon?” You wondered if crows could get offended by the way they can remember faces and whatnot. “That was a joke,” you followed yourself just in case. “Is that for me?” You ask hesitantly and when the crow did not move or make any indication of disagreement, you slowly and as carefully as possible unscrewed the bottom of the capsule and a small rolled-up piece of paper slid out of it. The crow softly folded its wing back up once you screwed the bottom piece back on. 

The paper was thin and rolled expertly like a scroll. You walked over to the coffee table and knelt to unfold it to read. 

My apologies for sending word to you this way! It must have been quite the shock to find a crow hanging around your home, however, I have neglected to ask of any other means of connection to you in our few encounters! If appropriate, how many I contact you from here on out? -K.Rengoku

You re-read the well-written note- scroll? -about three times before you broke down into a fit of laughter, kicking your still-healing foot into the table leg and wincing as the dull throb brought you back to your mind. 

You looked over your shoulder at the crow still perched on the tower and used your hand to pat an empty space on your table. 

“Come down here,” you invite and the crow listened well. Fluttering down easily and its talons clacking satisfyingly on your wooden table. You curled your finger, letting the back of your knuckles run over the bird's feathers careful not to accidentally pluck one. “So, you’re Rengoku’s bir-er-crow?” You corrected yourself midword thinking that just calling the crow ‘bird’ would be a bit demeaning. A soft caw was your answer. 

You looked around your coffee table but found nothing close enough to resemble a piece of paper small enough like his to send on the crows return back. Flipping the tiny-scroll over you decided to just use the back side and the nearest pen you had laying around. 

I knew you were into history, but a messenger crow? Now that’s old school. Does he have a name? 

Beside your short messaged reply, you scribbled your number down in the best handwriting you could muster so there was no way the numbers could be confused with another number. You then tried rolling it back up as expecrtly as it was put in- and failed- before you ended up folding the paper into small enough rectangles it fit inside the capsule just as well as when it was rolled up. You then pet the crow one more time before you walked back toyour window and called for it to sit on the sill. 

“You fly back home safely, okay?” The sun had declared the last lights of dusk before the sky covered your section of the world in a dark blanket and the crow’s dark eyes shimmered in earnest before it cawed once more and took off like a friendly goodbye! to its newfound friend. 

You were practically giddy the rest of the night, skipping around and giving Taco an extra treat or two in your good mood. You couldn’t remember the last time you had this feeling in your stomach, butterflies. As you lay in bed you wonder why it was you were feeling those butterflies that took you back to your high school days with flings and crushes and unrealistic romantic daydreams that would make even the most Christmas-y Hallmark movie plot to shame. 

Followed by the intriguing thought of it was all because of the still semi-stranger man named Rengoku who taught history and also happened to kill demons, the feeling of being on some pranked tv show with hidden cameras felt less and less likely the more time passed. But still- it all sounded so unreal when you thought about it all. 

The next morning, after not remembering when you even fell asleep, you checked your phone to see you had an unread text from an unknown number. You smiled at it, not even bothering to shut off the alarm clock that had woken you up as you quickly saved the number into your contacts. 

(Rengoku) His name is Kaname!

-x-x-x-

a/n pt2) DID YOU MISS ME? I know after such a long wait it's a pretty slow boring chapter, but I think the soft pacing was a good ease back into things.

I dunno where the inspo to finish this chapter even came from, but you won't see me complaining. Lemme know what you guys thought, I know it's been a while since I updated much of anything really, so the feedback is critical!!! and ofc im always up for any ideas y'all could have for the future since we all know how touch and go I am with inspiration lol

if you dont tell me anything, you're fired

[cashandprizes]

Top 5 Redacted Quotes (BA Edition)

My darling @gingerbreadmonsters tagged me so lovingly <3 And I initially was like "oh I don't know what my favorites are" until I decided I realized no one can stop me from doing my favorite moments in BAs that had me keyboard smashing (usually at Lexi) at all hours of the day.

So, without further ado, quotes from Redacted BAs that have made me so furiously feral I black them out of my memory to function.

Tagging some of my discord buddies <3 no pressure!!! @calicostorms @bratty-telepath @bicyclepainting @horrorscoupes @angelnoodlesoup @just-call-me-angel

NSFW/NSFT under the cut, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Starting off with my Number 1, which is the shortest but somehow most powerful of all:

Sam BA "You fixin' to bounce on this cock?" Stop. Stop everything. I about DIED. I have text receipts of me texting Lexi furiously screaming about this whole audio BUT THIS LINE? There is no salvation, only damnation and I run to it.

Number 2, a very close race:

David Hot Boi Winter/Proposal BA "Because every thread in my body is screaming for you, to have you. I wanna dig my teeth into your skin. I wanna fuck you into this bed so hard that the frame breaks underneath us, and then fuck you into the floor even harder." LITERALLY WHAT THE FUCK. OH MY GOD??? LET ME LIVE??? This audio was made specifically for bitches with their monsterfucker license who love possessive feral primal play (it's me I'm bitches). I had to relisten to this because I completely blacked out listening to it the first time because I was so feral and relistening was... words cannot describe. Help.

Number 3, the audio that birthed my url:

Milo BA illegal that it is the only one "Yeah? You want me to use this mouth of yours? Whose mouth is this? Good. [...] Kiss it first. Just kisses. Yeah, he's happy to see you." Milo Greer WHAT THE FUCK. I was only going to use the "yeah he's happy to see you" because that line is the kind of hilarious deviant shit I like, bUT WHOSE MOUTH IS THIS? Sir. I was minding my black business how could you do me like this?

Number 4, probably one of my all time fave audios

HuxDami Confession BA Can I just... "[Insert SS tier nefarious neck ultra high-quality throat goat noises]" "I'm made of tough stuff too Hux... and I like it rough. I'll tell you if it's too much. [...] Now show me what that body of yours can do, big guy." "Bet." "More." "Oh fuck. Oh god. Alright, you want more? I can give you more baby." This audio is so revolutionary I couldn't pick one quote. As a Damien kinnie who has gotten at least two five star Yelp reviews for my head game, real recognizes real. That was some the rent is due tomorrow vortex neck and like... I can't even describe how much I love this audio. The "bet"? ofaoiefoss. "More" was the moment where I said "oh god is this ME?" Damien Throat Goat Hours <3

Number 5, straight from the boy Lexi used as a WEAPON to drag me into this fandom:

Lasko Hot Boi Winter BA “I’m thinking really, really hard. I’m definitely not just, um, not, not just, a fucking puddle of precum, and very almost actual real cum.” “I’m a good boy. Good boys hold it in. Good boys hold it in.” Lexi knew that if they dangled a subby, flustered nerdy boy in front of my face I would be helpless and goddammit I am. I blacked out and wrote like 2k words of smut continuing the sextember audio just to make him cry. THIS? It was so funny and cute and just so.... sfsofspojfswe hot omg Lasko is just so whiny and whimpery that I become so fucking feral...

Honorable mentions!

Sextember Lasko BA - "I’m not gonna have a brain by the end of this! I’m just gonna be some drooling, crying, humping mess pulling you around like I’m in heat or something. No that’s not hot, that’s cruel! What do you mean that’s what makes it hot?!" Lasko Hot Boi Winter BA - "you're evil, you're so fucking evil, it's okay! It's okay!" Sam BA - "You wanna ride your cow- You little… Get over here. I oughta whoop your ass for that one, you menace."

I think I might do another one of these but JUST for meme quotes because I need to do my url so badly. It's maybe the funniest thing Milo has ever said.

[gavinsdeviant]

Minefields

Remember to drink water and eat something! Hope you enjoy <3

cw/tw- overthinking, me projecting onto Angel a little too much, anxiety, trauma response, just early relationship things

word count- 691

fandom- RedactedAudio (known as RedactedASMR)

pairing- David & Angel

@davidshawswife @daveysangelsposts @thesunandmoons-blog

Tagging @angelcactus and @cupcakegeckolover for the second edit of this version, since it looks a little different now

Angel paces back and forth in the living room, throat tight. They stare out onto the driveway, still empty even as the sun had set a while back. They gnaw on a fingernail absentmindedly as their mind races.

They couldn’t force themselves to slow, to become calm without him here.

Getting yourself worked up isn’t helping.

David still wasn’t home. He hadn’t texted, hadn’t let Ash know to tell them— nothing.

He always left some sort of message, and it unnerved them. Not to mention they had no idea what he did for a living. If he’d gone missing, they would have no idea where to look.

What if something bad happened? Not only did their body stiffen at the thought, but it warmed with a newfound anger. If only he had just said, instead of being so secretive, then they wouldn’t be so worried.

He owes you nothing, some voice at the back of their mind whispered.

They hurry over to the kitchen and lay their palms flat on the table, feeling the cool countertop beneath their fingers. It tethered them, kept them feeling grounded.

They hadn’t even been dating five full months and here they were, getting too attached already.

Their eyes burn, but they blink away the tears.

We’re practically strangers. He doesn’t owe me anything. 

They hadn’t felt this way with anyone before. Not Michael and not anyone before him. Loving him wouldn’t last— how could it? Having a love this strong always come with a price.

You don’t deserve him. He’s too good for you.

Their heart squeezes in their chest, emotion welling in their throat.

It hurt to imagine their days without him. Days without him waking up nestled into their side, hair shading his eyes in the morning light. It sent fear skittering up their spine at the thought of him never coming back. Never coming back to—

“Angel?”

They jolt at the nickname he had started calling them 2 months ago, furiously wiping a hand over their wet cheeks.

He touches a big hand to their shoulder and they can see the concern in his eyes as they swing around to face him, angry.

“Where were you?” They hadn’t been this mad at someone in a long time. Hadn’t been this mad and allowed themselves to actually feel it. And they were mad at him for being their Davey, the only one who’d managed to disarm them completely and had them defenceless now, vulnerable.

They blink up at him through damp lashes, glaring.

“I was at work,” he grumbles, frowning. “Where else?”

“Where do you go?” they whisper, voice rough. Tears cloud their vision again and they avoid his eyes as they try and ignore the wave of sadness, and rage, and everything in between.

He blinks, looking torn. “Angel, I can’t really-“

“Why can’t you? I’ve been worried sick and I-“ they snap their mouth shut, a sob catching in their throat.

He scans their face and his features soften.

“I’m okay.” His voice is steady, deep. Grounding. He lifts a hand to touch their face but they jerk back, drawing in a sharp breath. He drops his palm and makes a comforting sound.

“Sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he doesn’t go to touch them again, only whispers those words like a prayer. Before they know it they’re pushing out the door, face in their hands as they stumble past him.

“Baby.” They stop at his voice and turn to glance at his face, ashamed. “I would never hurt you.”

They give him a watery smile.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s alright.” He smiles down at them, smile so soft. “You want a hug?

The floodgates finally open as tears track down their cheeks. Their shoulders fall and their chest caves in as he wraps his arms around them, tight.

“I’m sorry,” they hiccup.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to their cheek. He cups their face in his hands then, so carefully as they both sink to the ground in each other’s arms. He presses a kiss to each knuckle before whispering,” I love you.”

“More than you’ll ever know.”

[sillyrabbit81]

Welcome Baby Hobbit

Summary: Your pregnancy doesn't progress as planned and Sy is getting worried.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Pregnant Female Reader

Word Count: Approx 2.5k

Warnings: Medical Procedures, Birth, Body Fluids, Smut, masturbation (male), discussions of death. ANGST (I hope I have covered everything)

Author's Note: I dont think this is a story for everyone. Be aware and be responsible for your reading decisions.

So this is a bit of a personal story. Much of this is heavily inspired by what I went through when I had my first child. It wasn't always a pleasant experience, but for me, it was worth it. I wasn't going to write it, but it ended up being therapeutic in a way.

Thanks to @jessiecavill for our chat and encouraging me to write this. Also to @blakerogue for reading through it, you're the sweetest!

This is a sort of part 2 to an ask, but I think you could read it without the back story.

I didn't really edit this either. Kind of too hard to do, so there will be errors. Sorry!

Masterlist

Welcome Baby Hobbit

Over the next few weeks your pregnancy progressed from uncomfortable to unbearable. You continued to get bigger and it became increasingly hard to move. Sy was getting growing more worried each day, he hadn’t been around a lot of pregnant women, but he knew it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You did everything you could to assure him you were fine. You took him with you to your doctor’s appointments and they reiterated that your blood pressure was fine, sugar levels were normal and although you had slightly elevated protein readings in your urine, they were within the acceptable range. They also told you to make sure you eat well, cut down on sugars and fats. Sy grew angry, telling the doctors that it’s not the food that’s making you big, something else was going on.

Work was getting increasingly difficult as you were on your feet a lot. You came home exhausted each night, your legs and feet in agony, none of your shoes fit properly and you had to buy a pair of shoes three sizes bigger just to fit your feet. When you got home from work, Sy would make you lay on the lounge with your feet elevated and would cook your dinner. He was getting frantic, frustrated and angry with you.

“I’m telling you, Darlin’, this ain’t right.”

“I’m fine, Sy. Not all women have dream pregnancies,” you tell him. Deep down you were worried too. But you wouldn’t admit it. You had to think positively, or you would crumble under the weight of your stress. You were fine, baby Hobbit was fine. Everything was going to be ok.

You stopped having sex. At first you didn’t care, you didn’t feel like it anyway, but after a few days you realised Sy hadn’t touched you in a sexual way in nearly a week. You immediately thought he must think you were ugly and gross, so you shied away from him too. Then one night you woke up to him furiously jerking off on the bed next to you. You stayed still, not wanting to alert him you were awake, but then you felt his hand on your hip, his fingers sliding across your skin. You heard him mutter a curse as he touched you, and you realised with relief that he still wanted you.

“Sy,” you say into the night.

Sy curses again and freezes. “You need anything, Sugar?” He asks with a hoarse voice, tinged with embarrassment. You let out a short laugh before trying to cover it. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” Sy says. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You didn’t feel like laughing anymore. “You’d rather do it yourself than fuck me now,” you say bitterly. “Good to know.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Sy says, quietly.

You gasp, “Well, you just succeeded.” You push his hand off, and pull the blankets up high, nearly covering your head. You didn’t want to look at him, or have him look at you.

“Now, wait a minute woman, that’s not what I meant,” Sy said angrily. He pulls your blanket off, and makes you look at him. “I want you, I really fucking want you.” His hand cups your swollen and tender breasts over your night shirt, his thumb makes circles over your nipples and you shy away from him, it hurts even when he is gentle. “But you’re in too much pain.”

“I could do what you’re doing,” you tell him.

“Nah, you don’t have to. I spend enough time away to know how to take care of myself.” It’s too dark to see his face clearly, but you can hear the smile in his voice. You feel his breath on your neck as he kisses you there. Almost shyly he says, “But, can I touch you while I do it.”

“Kiss me too,” you say. With a small moan he does, his lips firm while his tongue seeks yours. He tries to be gentle, but he can’t, and honestly you don’t mind. You needed to know he still wanted you.

By the time you were 34 weeks, Sy put his foot down and called your boss telling her you weren’t coming in anymore. You were angry with him and you had the biggest fight you had ever had in your relationship. You accused him of being controlling, not trusting you to make the right decisions. He said if you were going to continue to put yourself and the baby in danger then damn straight he was going to take control. For the first time since you were together, Sy slept on the lounge. You cried most of the night, but that was nothing new, you hardly slept anymore anyway.

In the very early hours of the morning you heard him creep into the bedroom and felt the bed dip as he got in. You turned your head to look at him and you saw the vague outline of his darkened face. He reached out and found you, trying to get as close to you as best he could with the pillow fort you made every night to keep your back raised to stop your reflux. You guided his head to your chest and he wrapped his arm around you and Hobbit. Neither of you apologised for what you had said, you didn’t need to. You both knew the other was sorry and you both knew how difficult the situation was for the other.

In the morning you woke with a headache. You stayed in bed feeling unwell in the stomach and your head pounded. Sy didn’t say anything, probably because he didn’t want a repeat of last night’s fight, but he paced around, hardly leaving your side.

Your headache got worse and when you saw flashing lights in your vision, you knew you were in trouble. You ask Sy to call the hospital and you gingerly get up to take a shower. Sy sits on the toilet seat and watches you shower while he talks on the phone. You try not to look at him, his face is so pale and he looks so concerned he’s making you feel worse. He asks you questions and he relays them to the midwife. By the time he is finished on the phone you are turning off the water.

“Well?” You ask as Sy gets the towel to help you dry off.

In a voice you rarely hear, his detached singular Captain’s voice he says, “They want us to go in straight away.”

Your chin starts trembling and tears aren’t far behind. You didn’t want to cry, your head hurts bad enough as it was, but you couldn’t stop. Sy pulls you into a hug, stroking your hair. “It’s alright, Sugar. You’re going to be ok.” You almost tell him that you weren’t worried about yourself, that you were worried about Hobbit. You kept your mouth shut, you weren’t quite ready for that conversation yet.

You dressed while Sy put your toothbrush and chargers in your hospital bag. He helped you put your shoes on too. Sy took your car, his truck was nearly impossible for you to get into and you wordlessly drove to the hospital. In the waiting area, Sy held your hand and you were comforted by his new found calmness. It wasn’t a cold calmness, he was present and still warm, zen was the only word you could think of to describe his mood. You were thankful for his smile when you glanced at him, and the way he put his hand under your chin and guided you to his lips for a kiss before he put his arm around your shoulder.

No more than five minutes passed before your name was called to the next room where you were put onto a hospital bed and then things moved quickly. Your blood pressure was taken, you were hooked up to a fetal monitor, its quiet noises a strange reassurance. You were visited first by a midwife and then by a doctor who all seemed to ask you the same questions and then you were swiftly moved by orderlies to a birthing suite where you were hooked up to machines again and briefly left alone.

Sy held your hand and if it wasn’t for the tightness of his eyes and the falseness of his smile, you would have said he was the picture of serenity. You knew better, and his new hints of concern made the gravity of the situation clearer to you. But instead of falling apart, you realise that now was the time you had to pull together every thread of strength you had to get through this and the thought works. You feel yourself pushing the doubts away and focusing on staying as cool as possible, conserving your energy and focusing on your goal, getting your Little Hobbit out safe.

Soon a small army of people arrive in the room, doctors and midwives come and introduce themselves and start to look at charts and readings. You don’t know why they bothered telling you their names, details like that went in one ear and out the other. But one thing that didn’t escape your notice was the nurse with the catheter. Introducing herself she said that it was concerning that you hadn’t been to the toilet for twelve hours so you would need a catheter to monitor your urine output and also to do some tests.

Agreeing, you go through a process you would have found humiliating at any other time of your life, but today, you didn’t care that you were basically flashing five strangers your vagina. The catheter was uncomfortable but urine flowed almost immediately and both you and Sy gasped when you saw it trickle down the tube and into the bag. It was so dark and full of blood it looked like cola. You knew that wasn’t good, and you fully realised in that moment that you could die. No, you were dying. If they couldn’t stop your blood

pressure from rising you would have a stroke and probably die. If they didn’t stop your kidneys shutting down, you would die.

Again, there was a great flurry of activity and the doctors started to lay out your options. You and Sy listened as they told you that you had preeclampsia, a condition which can turn unto eclampsia which is fatal; the only way to stop its progression was to have the baby, and even then there will be weeks of monitoring you to make sure your blood pressure becomes healthy again. Your jaw dropped as you realised your Little Hobbit was killing you.

In a sure sign that you probably weren’t in your right mind, when the doctors finish talking you look at Sy and say with a big smile, “Stupid, fat hobbit. It ruins it.” Sy presses his lips together, trying not to laugh. He looks away as he snorts and tries to regain composure. You give him a minute and ask the doctor, “If I have him now, will he be ok? I know premature babies can have a lot of health problems.”

The doctor explained that essentially the baby was fully grown and viable, but their lungs will require stimulation to begin breathing properly if born between six and four weeks early. They will need to be in the NICU for about a week, for monitoring. That sobered you and Sy up.

“Is there any chance, I can try and ride it out a few days?” you ask. “You know, to get him closer to four weeks?”

“Sugar, it’s over a week ‘til you’re 36 weeks,” Sy says gently, not wanting to upset you. “You won’t make it. We don’t have a choice.”

Testily you say, “Thank you, Doctor Syverson.” You look to the doctors and midwives. They’re stony faces are uniformly blank, one of the midwife’s kind of shrugs, indicating Sy was right.

You take a deep breath, nod and say, “Okay then, let’s do it.”

More activity goes on as you get questioned again about allergies, when you last ate and drank, if you have had anaesthetic before. You don’t realise Sy was gone until you see him walk past you and sit in the chair next to your bed.

“Where did you go?” You ask.

“Bathroom,” he said flatly. You give him your ‘I know you’re lying to me,’ look and he sighs. “I had to sign some paperwork. About bein’ next of kin and makin’ medical decisions on your behalf and for Little Hobbit.”

You take a minute to process that. Sy can see your mind whirling and he wraps his arms around you, “Don’t worry, it’s pretty standard because you’ll be under anaesthetic you can’t make decisions ok. Nothin’ to worry about Darlin’.” You relax into Sy’s arms a moment you let your fingers trace the curve of his biceps and the dip of his triceps. You hear him sigh as you caress him, and he nuzzles into your neck, his scratchy beard a familiar comfort. “I love you,” he breaths into you, leaving a chaste kiss under your ear.

“I love you too,” you reply, breathing in his comforting scent, a pleasant repose from the chemically smell of disinfectant the.

“Mrs Syverson, the theatre is ready,” you hear someone say.

You regretfully end your embrace, but not before Sy lifts your chin and kisses you. “Smile Sugar, we’re about to meet our little boy.”

You do smile, as you hold your belly and say, “Yeah, we are. He’s trouble already, so we know he takes after you.”

Sy barks out a short laugh, “That’s my girl. You’re gonna do great.”

You’re rushed down the corridors with Sy following beside you, his fingers laced between yours. When you get to the theatre, Sy is taken away while you are given the spinal block and then wheeled into to the operating room and lifted onto the table.

The anaesthesiologist who calls himself Dave, talks you through what is happening, but you’re distracted as you see Sy walk in, covered in far too small disposable scrubs. You giggle at him and he says with a smile, “Don’t say a word.”

“I won’t,” you start to say but then you feel a strange tugging sensation.

“They’re starting,” Dave tells you both.

Sy, being Sy and tall, peeks around the curtain they have raised and you watch as his face turns white. “I probably shouldn’t have done that,” he says.

“Ah, no, probably not,” Dave says. “But a lot of Dads can’t help themselves.”

You make a groan sound as you feel pressure, but no pain as one of the surgeons presses on your belly. “It won’t be long now,” Dave says and it isn’t.

You hear a sound you will never forget as long as you live, a sound that rips your heart out. The surprisingly strong but cry from your boy and you feel as though the whole world stopped, you don’t breathe, you don’t hear anything and all you see is Sy’s beaming face as your little boy is placed on your chest.

Tag List

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira @blakerogue @shadesofarrogance @mansaaay @stxlemate @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @eldarwen333 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @summersong69 @littlefreya @littlebirdofrivia @luclittlepond @myloveforhenrycavill @mary-ann84 @tellingyouastory @beck07990 @zealoushound

[shadyteacup]

Hii, can I request for 15 under angst with chuuya please make it fluff at the end. Thank youuu

Chuuya Nakahara + “Suicide doesn’t end the pain; it just passes it on to someone else.”

Word count: 1691

Author's note: Is the ending hurried? Maybe... But is it worth it? Totally

“Y/N.”, Chuuya grumbled, as he glared at you. You didn’t know why he was mad at you. You were doing your work properly, being polite, doing whatever he assigned you to do. Why was he angry with you?

“Chuuya.”, you stared back, with a neutral expression.

He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at your response. It was inhuman. Like, you were a shell of a human. It was devoid of any emotion. Your entire persona was inhuman. The way you carried yourself seemed like you were dragging your body. Like you didn’t want to have anything to do with your body. Your empty eyes made him shiver involuntarily. How could someone so pretty, so young, be so dull, and seem so old? Were you tired? Was it physical or mental?

Maybe both, he figured.

He had tried talking to you multiple times. He wanted you to open up to someone. He wanted you to pour your heart out, to confess your troubles onto someone and pass it on to them, to heave a sigh of relief after speaking about your troubles and finally letting all your pent-up stress disappear. He had tried to be your confidante, but you didn’t let him. He had then devised a plan to make Tachihara and then later Gin talk to you, and make them hear you out. But you hadn’t let them in, either. You were an enigma to him. Just a few months ago, you were smiling, giggling and laughing with him, but now, you seemed like a doll. A human without a soul. You seemed no longer human.

He was hurt to see you transition from happy to lifeless. It hurt to see the person he so dearly cared about lose interest in everything and anything. He remembered the day it had started.

“Hey, y/n! Look what I have!”

You looked up from your desk at the voice. Your blurry gaze landed on a certain ginger, who was smiling brightly. He held an antique and obviously expensive bottle of wine in his gloved palms. If you remembered correctly, that bottle was the same one he had been hunting down for about a month.

“It’s the 1960 edition! I finally found it! You wouldn’t believe how I got hold of it. You see, I was walking through town when I came across this antique shop, and..”

Chuuya went on, explaining in great detail and with a giddiness in his voice, just how he landed himself this bottle of exquisite wine.

When he finally paused to breathe and face you, his smile dropped. There you sat, eyes watery and red, with the faintest smile on your swollen lips.

“Y/N.. what.. Have you been crying?!”

You furiously shook your head and muttered a quiet, “Leave it be. I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

And he gave you the space you wanted. That was his biggest mistake. After that day, your condition started worsening. It was alarming how much you had changed. The once bright eyes he was so fond of, were now surrounded by dark circles. And the radiant smile he had fallen for, had disappeared.

“What are you doing out here? It’s 2 am.”, he crossed his arms as he watched how your hair fluttered in the wind. No matter which state you were in, you always looked beautiful to him. It amazed him how you made his heart pain, yet flutter for you.

You stood there, facing him with a blank look. You were standing on the edge of the tall building. One small mistake, and you’d go down. Tumbling to eternal sleep. It sounded relieving to you. To end all this pain and suffering, with just one small step. How enticing.

“Go back to sleep. Now.”, he ordered, taking baby steps toward you, afraid of startling you.

“No.”, you breathed out, looking over the edge, admiring the fall.

“It’s an order, Y/N.”, Chuuya warned.

“No. I am sorry.”, with that, you jumped.

Chuuya’s heart leaped out of his chest, and his stomach dropped.

No, no, no!

He couldn’t believe his eyes. He knew you were in pain, but he didn’t know you were thisdisoriented from life.

Fuck!

He jumped soon after you, following you with his eyes. His hand outstretches to try and grasp onto you.

Your entire being fell at rapid speed. You looked ethereal. At peace. You had closed your eyes, and a small smile graced your chapped lips. To Chuuya, you looked like someone who was in a deep sleep, having a nice dream about paradise. It was ironical how peaceful you looked. Mere seconds away from death. From eternal slumber.

With one push downwards, Chuuya managed to catch hold of your sleeve. He immediately activated his ability, and pulled you close, wrapping his arms around your form and caging you in. You gasped as you felt him pull you high up into the night sky. You hadn’t expected him to be there when you jumped. He was an unexpected variable in your plan to end your life. But as you opened your eyes and stared into sapphire ones, you felt glad that he was there, to swoop you into his embrace and save you from death.

Almost like an angel.

You had always loved him but didn’t know if he felt for you what you felt for him. Precisely why you hadn’t confessed your troubles to him. Your life had crumbled to pieces in the last few months, and you had no motivation to continue living. It was hell. Everything pained and stabbed at your heart. But right now, as you flew up, up and up in the arms of the man you loved, you didn’t feel the pain. You forgot all the suffering; the scratches and burns numbed.

Your eyes widened at all the new sensations. The cool, crisp breeze greeted you with a kiss on the tip of your nose, then pinched your cheeks as it glided past you. It played with your hair and enveloped you in a cold hug. You felt loved, by both, the breeze and the strikingly handsome man who refused to let your feet touch the ground. He looked into your eyes with furious intensity, and expressed his feelings of anger, frustration, and betrayal through his sharp gaze.

He flew you to a place unknown to you, away from the edifice that would have been your gravestone, had he not intervened.

You cowered from his gaze. It was too much to handle. Only then then did you realize that you were on the ground, your feet touching the very earth that you had wanted to run away from. The same earth that had housed your pathetic, painful existence. The same earth that you used to dream of escaping.

Yet, as you stood on the same earth, with him, you felt at ease.

“You.. saved me…”, you wondered aloud.

Chuuya simply stared at you, defeated.

“I don’t know if you’ll listen to me, because apparently nothing gets through your thick skull.”, he began, anger and concern lacing his tone.

“Suicide doesn’t end the pain; it just passes it on to someone else.”

You held onto him, refusing to let go.

“Death isn’t the answer. It creates more pain than it solves. What did you think your death would solve, hmm?”

You stuttered and stumbled on your words, unable to sum up your pain in a sentence.

“I-”

“Y/N, look at me.”, he held your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“If something was to happen to you, the people that care about you would suffer. There are people that truly care about you. You might not see it, but they care. They all do.”

He inhaled deeply before muttering, “I do.”

“I care, y/n. Hell, I love you. I have been in love with you since forever!”

He frowned at your shocked expression.

“But I didn’t fall in love with this you. I fell in love with the brave y/n, the y/n who would greet every problem with a smile, and slay any obstacle with grace.”

You looked at the ground in shame. You hadn’t taken care of yourself in the past few days, and it had affected everyone around you. You hadn’t meant to be a trouble for anyone.

“But I still love you. Even like this, with large panda eyes and lips that resemble dried earth, I still love you.”

You pouted at his description of you, but his words filled your chest with warmth.

“As much as I like your home-less attire, I would still prefer to see your hair tied in a neat ponytail, or flowing silkily in the wind, than look like a hurricane just hit you.”, he muttered, a teasing smirk on his lips.

“Hey! I don’t look homeless!”, you retorted, punching him lightly on the shoulder.

“Yeah, you do.”

“I don’t!”

“If I put my hand in there, I’d probably pull out a family of birds, a half-eaten apple, those disgusting health bars you eat, and a can of soda.”

You gasped at his words and punched him harder, causing him to mutter an “ouch!”. The bugger continued to smirk, though, and you were ready to pull his hair out.

You couldn’t hide your grin, and eventually ended up giggling. It was refreshing to laugh again. It didn’t end the pain, but it sure did dull it.

“You, know, your laugh is very pretty.”, Chuuya said, avoiding your gaze as his cheeks glowed red.

“I really love you, y/n.”

You smirked.

“Aw, thanks.”

He blinked and shouted, “Haa?! You’re supposed say it back!”

“And what if I don’t?”

“I’ll make you!”

“And how exactly are you going to-”

Chuuya smashed his lips onto yours in a hurried kiss, and pulled away, embarrassed.

“Like- like that.”

You blushed and stood there open-mouthed.

“Are you going to stand there like a fish or are you going to say something?”, he said angrily and nervously.

“Maybe I love you too. But only if you kiss me again.”

[cyberrat]

63rd Batch Of Fics: 7th Fill

Hanzo/Dog; Hanzo/Cassidy – cont B51F14 – Part 1/2 – Hanzo needs only the flimsiest of reasons to become his true slut self :)

Edit: this is all fiction. don't be stupid; real life needs consent with willing, human adults that are able to give it.

---

“Thaaaanks for taking care of him again! I got all his favorite toys and snacks in this bag! Just text me if you got any questions, right? But you’re already best buds so… yeah! Yeah okay, then byebye! Byebye Charlie, have fuuuun! Love you! Love you, bug!”

Tracer had been, as always, a lot when she dropped Charlie off with Hanzo, widely vacillating between cuddling and kissing her dog to shaking Hanzo’s whole arm in gratitude and ripping open the bag she brought along to pull out some toys, then put them away again…

It had been a lot, but in the end she left to go on her trip with Cole, leaving Hanzo to flop down on the couch and Charlie to move on over to put his head on his knee and let himself get pet.

He feels a lot more comfortable with the animal than the first time he unwillingly had to look after him. He remembers well being irrationally scared that Charlie might bite him. Now that he’s spent quite some… quality time with him, he knows for a fact that the big mutt is not capable of any form of violence.

Hanzo keeps peering at him from the corner of his eyes. He half expects Charlie to be… he doesn’t know… leering at him or something. Doing some kind of advances to try and make him his bitch or… something. He doesn’t, though. Instead he’s just being a normal dog, begging for pets until Hanzo gets tired of doing so and then starting to move through the flat to inspect everything all anew again.

Leaving Hanzo to sit there and stew in the revelation that he is the one wanting to fuck the dog again. He’s been there for half a day and he’s already fighting against getting a chubby, his body reminding him all too eagerly how glorious it had been every time getting dicked by a dog.

He blames Cole, of course. If it weren’t for his useless cuck of a husband he would not be in this predicament.

He just keeps working and working and working and twisting Hanzo up tighter each night. Every time he promises that tonight will be the night he won’t fall asleep with his dick out after talking Hanzo into a frenzy… and then starts snoring after all once Hanzo is good and ready, panting, fingers fucking as deep as he can get them while kneeling on the bed, ass thrust in the air, just hoping for some release-

Hanzo could get himself off, of course. He could get out one of the many toys Cole bought him and dick himself until he pumps his load out but… he doesn’t. He kind of started liking getting blue balled by his husband, goddamn it.

So it’s his own damn fault that he’s now sitting there, balls full to bursting, unable to think of anything but cock sliding into him hot and delicious and jack hammering away until he explodes all over the carpet-

No. No, it’s Cole’s fault. Stupid Cole with his stupid work ethic and his big fat dick that made Hanzo get absolutely addicted to being fucked. It’s not fair that he should be left alone in his luxurious high-end apartment with nothing but a phone full of numbers of men he could call to come and destroy them on their dicks when all he can think about is doggy cock currently traipsing through his bedroom and sticking his snout into the dirty laundry basket or something…

He waits for exactly one hour before he gets his phone out and starts furiously texting Cole, calling him all kinds of nasty names and blaming him for anything and everything that ever went wrong.

The fact that it takes him a good twenty minutes to reply doesn’t quell his anger… much to the contrary.

What’s up, babdydoll? What got you in a tizzy?

He can feel a vein pulsing at his temple as he angrily texts back: You have not performing your duties as a husband, that has me in a ‘tizzy’. And if you ever use that word with me again, I will castrate you.

The next reply comes faster, thankfully enough. It quells his ire somewhat, at least… until he reads Cole’s message that has his pulse shooting up.

I see, I see… why don’t you just fuck Charlie, then? It’ll be a while until I get back… bet he would like some one-on-one time with you.

This nasty… disgusting… pig of a man. If he were here, Hanzo would put his hands around his stupid, sturdy neck and…

It’s not so much the content of the message as such that has him flustered; it’s more the fact that Cole would think he could just nonchalantly tell him to… to enjoy himself with this animal. Who did he think he was?! Who did he think Hanzo was?!

Only that he kind of had just waited for this permission. It gives him someone to blame all of this on. Someone who he could then be mean to and tell it’s just his fault for being a neglectful, lazy husband that Hanzo has had to resort to drastic measures such as… such as immediately going for Charlie’s sheath the moment the dog turns on his back for some belly scratches.

Not that Charlie needs a lot of encouragement to get what Hanzo wants from him quite desperately. The fact that he’s naked and hard is also clueing him in, probably. He has been sniffing quite interestedly at his cock before rolling on his back which had made Hanzo breathe a sigh of relief – he’s not sure if he’s quite ready to have the dog’s teeth so close to his junk, no matter how fast his heart had pounded at the thought of that soft, warm tongue intensively lapping at the salty tip of his dick.

Anyway. He’s massaging a dog’s sheathe because his useless husband hasn’t been able to keep awake enough to finally get Hanzo off. Cole knows perfectly well that Hanzo needs to shoot his load a few times a week and that he abhors having to do it all by himself. He really should have taken better care of him and his needs so he didn’t have to resort to… oh… oh Charlie’s cock is starting to slip out, wet and eager. It’s nowhere near as thick as Cole’s dick or that of Reinhardt and Balderich, but it is slippery to the touch and feels so very very alive.

Not a stupid toy that can’t give Hanzo the creampies he loves. No… this one twitches in his palm when he curls his fingers around and produces slick, watery pre-cum when he carefully drags his fist up and down a few times. Just to experiment. Just to see whether Charlie likes a good handjob as much as Cole does.

The answer is: Yes. Yes he does. His tail keeps wagging along the floor and his tongue is lolling out the side of his open maw in an idiotic grin that also reminds Hanzo quite a bit of his husband. They’re not that different from each other, really.

Which makes it easier for him to just go along with this whole thing and not think too much about how he gets on all fours and presents himself like the bitch he has become.

[k3lynn]

mine — katsuki bakugou

yandere! katsuki bakugou x reader

cw: yandere au, 3rd year bakugou, violence, reader got female genitalia, anger, off-“screen” murder, mention of (minor) character death, blood, lucidness, possessiveness, degradation, manipulation, stalking, threats, masturbation, implication of sex, swearing, assault, narcissism, horror, slightly delusional katsuki, panic attack, non con, mention of suicide

- I do not condone any of the behavior here, nor do I try to romanticize it. (definition: make it seem like a good thing) any future/current dark fics are purely for entertainment purposes. Also, I don’t think bakugou would EVER do this- I’m just using some dark traits he used to have and twisting them to fit this situation. Not completely proof read and edited, I am exhausted right now I’m sorry. I say some mean things about some characters but I don’t mean it 💗

words: 1.8k

𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙽𝙷𝙰 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 // 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝚈𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

Look at me.

Look at me.

Look at me.

Look at me.

Look at me.

WHY WON’T YOU LOOK AT ME.

Poor little Y/N. You’ve caught the Big Bad Wolf’s attention. Ready to snatch you up and drag you into the deepest parts of the forest where no one will ever find you.

You’ll be all mine, and I’ll be the only thing you’ll ever have to see again.

You’ve been in the same class for 3 years now- and all he had to show for it is an occasional wave, and a shy little “Hi Bakugou” every morning that made his heart leap out of his chest.

Enough for most, but not for him.

In turn, he would tsk. Facing away and setting his head down on the desk- attempting to hide the roaring blush adorning his cheeks and the subtle shuffling in his pants- the way your voice alone could make his balls tighten in need.

Still- you give him merely a glance. He is always around you, but your attention is given to someone else.

Any extra would overlook his grumbling for typical-Katsuki doing his own thing. In reality, he’s holding himself back from snapping and taking you by force.

He wants you to come to him.

You have no reason not to. He’s perfect. Probably the best student to ever enter U.A. High, and on path to become the best pro hero to ever graduate from it.

Coming first in both the Entrance Exams AND the sports festival- a victory he still denies, holding some of the highest grades in class- 3rd only to some geek girl he could easily out-rank in combat and that shitty half n’ half. Even perceptiveness, intellect, and determination that can rival dumb Deku.

He even possesses great skills in cooking and music- Katsuki is a natural-born genius. Anybody who isn’t conscious towards his incredible talents might as well be living under a rock-

Unbeknownst to you, he’s giving you the generous chance to decide when you’ll be his. But his patience wears thinner every day.

It would have only taken a second to turn around in your seat and notice his piercing red eyes glaring at the back of your head.

So why don’t you notice me.

-

He doesn’t understand why it’s you he obsesses about. He can’t even remember when this whole mess started.

He tried denying his feelings. But quickly- they built up and festered inside him, begging to come out. Love, possessiveness, same thing.

Whether it be watching your twist and turn in the obstacle course- then running to the nearest bathroom to furiously grip his cock.

Snatching your chapstick when you’re not looking and rubbing it all around his own lips- imagining that’s what your lips would taste like if you just kissed him-

Restraining you during combat training by wrapping his arms around you- squeezing your breast a little more than necessary. Pinning you to the floor until you admit defeat.

Or even sneaking into your dorm while you’re in the shower to grab a new pair of panties from your dirty laundry, adding it to the stash he keeps hidden under his bed.

Stalking you. Keeping you close at all times without you even knowing it.

Indeed, he knows he’s a sick and twisted human being.

But by now he hardly cares- he’s worked too hard to ever even imagine of changing his perfect target. Nobody is more deserving of you than him.

So if he has to confront, threaten, and beat every single person in this stupid school to monopolize you for himself- he gladly will. Anyone who goes againts that is challenging him.

He scoffs anytime a boy approaches you- it’s well known around school that anyone who attempts to buddy up with you mysteriously ends up in a hospital room with no recollection of what happened. People even started seeing you as a sign of bad luck.

He’s nice enough to allow you some friends though. But only ones who will guarantee you’ll be around him as much as possible.

So you sit with him, Kirishima, racoon eyes, dunce face, and tape boy in lunch. No one else. Right in front of him.

You’re chatting away with Mina, but unusually, something special came up in conversation.

He always stays focused on his lunch- switching between listening in and day dreaming about bending you over the lunch table and grinding on your ass-

Katsuki’s stomach dropped. His eyes widened- what did Mina just say?

There’s a boy in the management department, a quirkless 2nd year nobody smart enough to somehow get into U.A.

And he asked you out on a date after school.

Shit.

No.

No no no no-

No- this isn’t how it’s supposed to-

My throat burns.

When did he- when did you-

You’re going to say no, right?

I cant breathe.

You don’t like anyone- I know this

I know everything about you- I-

My chest hurts-

You’re mine.

And if he thinks I’ll share then I’ll-

“Mina stop being so loud please...” your delicate little voice whispered.

The rest of the table already took notice of what was going on- bombarding you with questions that made you flustered.

“Woah woah- Y/n, what’s your answer?” dunce face peeps out, Bakugou swore he could smack that grin off his face right then and there.

Katsuki turns to look at you again- a chill traveling down his spine once he made eye contact, but your stare quickly fell to the floor.

“I’m not sure yet- probably not.. ha.” You shrugged- a light pink dusting over your cheeks. The others, satisfied, dismiss the topic.

Had it have been anybody else observing, they wouldn’t have thought much of it. But Katsuki knows you like the back of his hand. Successfully deceiving him would be harder than taking down All For One.

You’re lying... aren’t you? In front of him too- All because of this quirkless fucking loser-

Katsuki hates lies.

.

.

.

I’m going to kill him.

-

The walk back to your dorm was disappointing to say the least. But you can’t expect someone to be in the best of moods when they’ve been stood up.

You almost couldn’t believe it either- he had seemed so kind and genuine that you stood there for an extra 2 hours. But that’s your luck with boys-

‘I hope you got a good laugh out of it, jerk.’ You huffed before inserting the key into your rooms lock.

Turning on the lights, you allow your eyes to adjust for a moment before stepping inside and walking to your desk.

“You were waiting for that jackass for so long I almost started thinking you would never come back...”

You let out a startled cry before dropping your keys and whirling around in a flash- recognizing Katsuki’s back as he slowly closes the door.

“Bakugou? Why are you-“

“was he really that special.”

“What do you mean was....“ It’s then you noticed the blood dripping down his arms and hands- your door decorated with the same shade of crimson.

“oh my god.. Bakugou,”

That’s why the poor boy never showed up.

You knew about Katsuki’s “little” crush on you for a while now. His stares weren’t exactly the most subtle after all-

You found his uncertainty adorable, heck, a part of you was waiting for him to confess. But you would have never imagined his infatuation went this far.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. He’ll never love you as much as I do.”

He lifts his head, and your eyes meet his. Bloodshot- as if he’d been crying, but the evident smirk on his face showed nothing but pure malice.

“Not that he’ll ever get the chance to anyways”

He’s too fast, too close to the door, he has all the advantage in this situation. But you have to try. You have to leave this room at this very moment or you may never make it out alive. There’s no reasoning with him.

You clutch your heart. He steps forward, and you instinctively bolt to the door.

A few easy moves and he has you pinned by the neck on the ground, legs bent and used to hold your arms from jerking too much. His free hand is outstretched, creating small explosions that made you automatically stiffen your movement.

“Bakugou please- I won’t ever tell anyone, we can forget about this and I’ll pretend it neve-“

“I don’t need you to be quiet. I’m the boy who rejected a direct offer from the League of Villains, one of the best students in U.A. high- even if you do rat me out, they’ll never believe you...”

His grip on your neck tightened- nails cutting through skin and little droplets of blood start showing up. His hand starts heating up and a panic courses through your veins.

“I’ll kill you before they even begin to suspect me.”

Choked sobs escape your lips from the pain and fear surging through your body- “I- I thought you said you lo-loved me.”

“I do... that’s why you’ll be mine forever.”

He leaned down, low enough for you to feel his warm breath- then used his tongue to sadistically lick off the tears running down your cheek, a salty but satisfying flavor entering his mouth.

“In this life, and the next. It’s up to you when we see the later.”

You nod, hoping he relaxes the pressure on your neck. His face softens, something you swore you would never see in Bakugou. He releases his hold.

“You made me mess up your neck, next time don’t be so mean.”

He tilted your chin up, observing the scratches and bruises littered all around it. As soon as he determines there’s no serious injury, he picks you up to lay you on your bed. Climbing in next to you and wrapping an arm around your hips.

“Couples cuddle like this all the time don’t they.”

You gave him silence, although he didn’t mind. With one glare he had you shuffling to move closer to his chest.

“they also kiss.”

You know that right now, there’s no point in fighting. So you give in to what he wants in hopes that one day, you’ll break free from the hold he secretly had on you for so long. You’ll play along. You’ll survive.

You shudder as his hands reach to cradle your cheek, wiping the blood of the boy all over it. He loved it. It proved he won. He gave a light kiss to your lips before attacking your neck, set on putting a new type of bruise on you.

“You should start calling me Katsuki.”

“Ka- Katsuki.” You barely managed to whimper out.

He caresses your hair, cooing soft whispers into your ear in an attempt to calm your sniffling. An action you would have seen as sweet if it weren’t for the constant threat of death over your shoulder.

Your breath hitches in horror as you feel his warm hands trail down your body, gripping your smooth inner thigh before delicately starting to drag his fingers up.

“You know...

You silently beg for him to stop.

“There’s one more thing couples do.”

-if anyone is interested- should I make a part 2? (Future edit, I’m not satisfied with this, I might end up rewriting in the future)

© 2021 k3lynn, do not modify or repost without permission

[gingerwritess]

Elucien week day 1: flower

I should not have written this today when I have like eleven finals and projects due in two days but oh well

I know it’s a day late but I also didn’t have anything for day 2 soooo enjoy!!

warnings: a little bit of ✨spice✨ and no editing :/

Elain could feel the air.

That was the first sign something was different here.

It was heavy, settling on her skin with the gentlest pressure, like the warm embrace of humidity, only without the sweltering heat.

The second sign was Lucien.

Her focus was drawn to Lucien’s fingers, wrapped tight around hers, as they passed a fallen branch that had been overtaken by moss. Long, slender, and strong, his fingers stroked slowly over her own, and her next breath stuttered.

A few flowers poked out from between the splinters of the fallen branch—black flowers.

A few flowers poked out from between the splinters of the fallen branch—black flowers.

“Wait,” Elain gasped, grabbing Lucien’s arm. “I want to see those.”

She pulled him along behind her and dropped to her knees by the blooms, gaping.

“Those are beautiful,” Lucien commented, reluctantly dropping her hand as she picked one from the dirt.

“They’re black,” Elain whispered in awe. She ran a gentle finger over the single curved petal. “They looked like calla lilies, don’t you think?”

Lucien chewed his lip and nodded. He was sweet like that. Pretending to know what she was talking about. Elain quite liked that about him.

“But they’re actually black,” she breathed, and held it to her nose to take a deep breath of it. “Mm. Black flowers don’t exist naturally in the human lands, all we got was dark purple or dark red. Never actually black.”

She took another breath of it, basking in the musky, heady scent of it, then thrust the flower under Lucien’s nose.

“It smells so good,” she moaned, picking another one and inhaling it again. “Mm. I could smell these all day.”

Lucien gave the flower an experimental sniff—then his eyes rolled back in his head. “Cauldron. Let’s bring some of these back.”

Elain nodded feverishly, hurrying to pull more of the blooms from the fallen branch and the moss surrounding it. Normally she would be gentler with them, snip the stems cleanly, or pull it out from the root; but these…gods, she wanted an armful of them, she wanted to bury her face in them.

The air pressed onto her skin heavier, and she felt a drop of sweat race down her neck.

A soft thump behind her told her Lucien had dropped to his knees, and then he was beside her, pressing against her side as he reached over her to help gather a bundle of the flowers.

“Aren’t flowers not supposed to grow in moss?”

He sounded out of breath—and his heartbeat…it throbbed through her head at a fevered pace, only getting faster as he added to the bundle of blooms in her arms.

“It’s–it’s difficult,” she replied breathlessly, sitting back on her heels as he worked. “I don’t know how it works here, though. Maybe…maybe there’s different rules.”

“Wild magic,” Lucien grunted��he was sweating, now, too, down the arch of his neck, and she wanted to lick—

“What?” she squeaked, cheeks turning cherry red.

“Maybe it’s a rogue bit of magic,” he continued. “You never know, in fae woods. Anything can grow.”

Her gaze dropped to his hands—he was gripping the bark of the fallen branch so tightly his knuckles paled. A vein pulsed in his neck and the corded muscles of his forearms were taut.

He still pressed into her side, pulling another flower from the moss. Every little place they touched was on fire, her arm burning as he brushed it and she caught his eyes flutter closed.

His hair gleamed molten in the scarce sunlight, every shade of red and blood and rubies taunting her as he moved. The muscles of his back rippled as he worked, even through his shirt, and his hands—gods, what was wrong with her—his hands were covered in dirt, slender and so big and she reached out and touched the back of his hand before she could think better of it.

His skin was feverishly hot.

And the moment her fingers brushed the back of his hand, he twisted, those long fingers wrapping around her wrist to pull her to the ground beneath him.

Her mouth dropped open in the faintest gasp—she’d never seen him from this angle.

Braced above her. Hands pinning her wrists down.

Her face, her chest, her skin, her everything heated. She knew it wasn’t embarrassment.

His blood red hair fell around their faces, and it was so strange to see it so loose, so unbound, falling in his face so untamed, that Elain caught her bottom lip between her teeth and reached up to touch his hair.

“What is this,” she breathed, running her fingers through his hair, the locks slipping through them like molten metal.

He blinked—and his face shifted in an instant, falling from something feral to something horrified as he realized the position he’d put them in.

“Sorry,” he gasped, letting go of her wrist and jolting away from her. The black, beautiful flowers, dropped and forgotten the moment he pulled her under him, littered the moss around them.

“I’m so sorry,” he panted, reaching to help her sit up, his hands trembling. “Gods, I don’t—I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me—”

Elain didn’t know either, but she felt it. Everywhere.

“I feel it, too,” she whispered, and grabbed his hand and pressed it to her chest, right above her heart.

Lucien looked like he’d stopped breathing.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t know.” She didn’t want to break this heady spell by speaking louder than a whisper. They were face to face, kneeling in the mossy forest ground, black calla lilies surrounding them, and she leaned just a bit closer, touching her forehead to his.

His lips glistened in the scarce sunlight.

She could hear his gold eye whirring wildly in its socket, but he remained silent, barely breathing, watching as she stared at his parted lips.

“I think…I think it’s the flowers,” Lucien rasped, his hand still hot on her chest. “Definitely ancient magic.”

Cauldron, she loved the way his mouth moved. She could listen to him and watch him talk for hours, mapping the movements of those full lips, the crooked grins he gave her, the way his scar moved with his face.

“You’re ancient magic,” she whispered, and their noses bumped. “Untamed.”

Elain tilted her head and flicked her tongue against his scar.

The way he whispered a pleading curse under his breath set her on fire.

“Wild,” she murmured, and the softest push on his shoulders had him sitting against the fallen branch as she climbed onto his lap and licked his neck. “Sacred.”

“Elain,” he groaned, dirty hands fisting in the moss under him. “Cauldron—”

Gods, those lips. “Say it again,” she said breathlessly, her hands curling into his hair. “My name.”

“Elain.” His eyes were closed.

She hadn’t even kissed him and he was writhing and moaning her name.

“Elain, please—”

She was certain she should be feeling very ashamed for this, for doing this to him, with him, and out in the open air, too—but the world was alight in this forest, and he was here, begging for her, and gods, she needed him.

“Flowers,” Lucien panted, his head thrown back against the branch. His fingers dug into her hips as she leaned back down to his neck. “It’s—mother—flowers, Elain—”

She answered on a heady sigh, grabbing a handful of the flowers he wanted and shoving them into the v of his loose shirt. “Here—they look good, you look—you’re…”

She couldn’t think straight. Between the feel of him, the scent of him, the taste of him, and the scent of those intoxicating flowers, her mind had emptied of every thought but him and the heat coursing through her.

“I’ll winnow,” he gasped, even as he clawed at her muslin dress and curled a dirty hand in her hair.

His body jerked under her—then the whole world followed, and she clung to him, her face buried in the crook of his neck, breathing in the crisp autumn scent of him.

She landed hard on top of him, and he let out a quiet grunt over her shoulder, one of his hands still gripping her waist while the other fisted her hair.

Elain froze as cool, clean air filled her and danced across her skin.

The manor. They were back at the Spring manor, laying together on the sprawling lawn.

What…had she done.

She threw herself off of Lucien and scrambled away from him, taking in the state of him, his tousled hair, flushed cheeks, heaving chest. “I’m so sorry,” she blurted, trying to fix her dress and hair. “I’m so sorry, Lucien, I didn’t mean to do that, I’m so sorry, I don’t—”

“Flowers.”

It came out on a laugh, his eyes still closed.

“What?” Elain asked, distraught as she watched him laugh on the grass. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It was—” he grunted as he pulled himself upright, and took out one of the black flowers she’d tucked in his shirt. “The flowers. Some kind of intoxicant, or a spell, I’m sure.”

She gaped at him. “Really?”

He gave her a small smile, and took the flowers from out of his shirt. “Really.”

“I’m still sorry,” Elain insisted, refusing to look him in the eye. Cauldron, she’d jumped him like a feral beast. “I can’t believe—I’m not like that, you know? I’m so sorry I did that, I—”

Lucien stood as she rambled, gathering the remaining flowers and coming over to press a soft kiss to her cheek. “What do you say we give these to Nesta and Cassian in a bouquet the next time there’s a family dinner?”

Her excuses and apologies stuttered to a halt—and she giggled. Clapped a hand over her furiously flushed face and laughed. “Oh, definitely. That’ll keep things exciting.”

He was so good at that; reminding her that he was in no hurry to rush this delicate sprout of a relationship they had. And what she’d been doing—or about to do—in that forest was certainly rushing things.

She fell into step beside him, still staring at the ground, as he headed back to the manor, talking about how he must wash his hands, for no gentleman should ever have dirty hands for this long a time should he need to use them.

He noticed her silence, or lack of laughter at his antics, and glanced down at her.

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, nudging her arm with his own. “You did nothing wrong. Between the flowers and my devilish good looks I’m shocked we made it back with our clothes on.”

She glared at him, and he grinned right back.

“I feel terrible,” Elain insisted. “I completely…lost control. I’ve never done that. I’m sorry you had to see me like–like that.”

Lucien hummed. “I’m not.”

“Lucien!”

He laughed, reaching down to take her hand in his. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, ashamed of, or to apologize for. We both lost it a bit thanks to these flowers here, but you never even kissed me.”

The way he said it, with the definitive pout at the end, his shoulders sagging a little bit—Elain frowned as he brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles with a grin.

“No need to sound so disappointed.”

—

@elucienweek

[gojology]

The Start of Winter Break. (18+)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | I FEEL RLLY SAD CUZ I WANTED TO DO THE SUKUNA BUT I DONT KNOW THE STORY ON ALADDIN SO I OPTED FOR 2 INSTEAD IM SORRY ANON. anyways i wanted to feed u guys rlly well and actually took the time to write and edit. I’M REFORMED also writing on google docs is so hard?? (reposting cuz i think im shadowbanned)

𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 3798

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | Food Play, Nipple Play, Oral (Fem Receiving), Degrading Nicknames (I didn’t really proof read that hard but I know there’s like, a mention of one nickname along the lines of that.)

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | It’s the first day of Winter Break, and you want to surprise Gojo with a cup of hot cocoa, instead, Gojo surprises you.       Blinking your eyes furiously, you adjusted to the dark room. Immediately, you breathe a sigh of relief. You didn’t have to wake up at such an early hour, and for once you woke up refreshed. It was finally the first day of Winter Break, you had overworked yourself, making sure that you were to spend the end of the year work-free and available for as many Christmas parties you wanted to attend.        Yawning, stretching as you did so, you look over your shoulder. There’s a slight smile dawning on Gojo’s lips.  His long eyelashes fluttered when he slept. He slightly snored, grabbing at where you once slept in his arms.   The room was unusually cold. You had always awoke to sunlight streaming from the window, realizing that could only mean that another day of work was ahead of you. But now, the room was dim, and freezing might you add. You couldn’t wait to snuggle with Gojo, this was perfect cuddle weather.   Tearing your eyes away from Gojo’s pretty face, you instead looked at the door. Years of photos with Gojo absolutely slathered the poor thing, past memories all flickering before your eyes. Pictures in Disneyland, bright colors in contrast with the rather dark clothes he always seemed to wear.   Once in a while, you would see pictures of Yuuji, Shoko, Megumi, Nobara, just about every Tokyo Jujutsu Tech School member there was, and even Utahime, celebrating good times with Gojo.      You didn’t find yourself in many of the pictures, but the ones you did find yourself happened to be some of your fondest memories.   Far more common were pictures of you, with ridiculous, shit, you’d even go as far as to say downright ugly faces while he told you a stupid joke were also taped sloppily, some photos were even slanted.    Gojo had made it a firm promise to take pictures of you when you least expected it, because that’s when he always found you the cutest.   You peek at Gojo’s sleeping face once more, a slight giggle rising from your throat that you struggled to silence. His mouth, slightly agape, was now drooling onto the pillow he oh so gracefully rested on.     Jerking your head up and snapping out of your Gojo daze, you realized that you were supposed to make your daily morning coffee for you and him today. You had chewed him out multiple times, telling him that the way he made coffee was nauseating. Usually, Gojo would always accompany the bitter drink with 8 sugarcubes, which was not your thing.   He always seemed to forget, honestly you couldn’t really tell with him, giving you a mug of absurdly sweetened coffee every morning. You always foolishly assumed that he had listened to you from the last scolding, so you would always sip it, letting the coffee coat your pallet, but promptly spit it out as soon as you realized how sickly sweet it was.     “Satoru! This is too sweet!”   “Honeybun, you’re the sweetest thing in this room, what do you mean the coffee could be too sweet? Not possible.” he would inquire innocently, tilting his head to the side.   You’d frown, shaking your head and muttering about the acts of distaste you’d do to him before Gojo bursts into a fit of laughter, pointing at you and watching you unenthusiastically look back. Most likely fuming silently, but you didn’t want to tell him that.   “You’re so fucking cute when you’re angry, (Y/N).”     “Satoru, I can literally not survive the day without coffee. Whatever you’re serving me is definitely not the coffee I want, and sooner or later I’ll be dropping dead.”     He would shrug playfully, as if he didn’t even understand the core concepts of what you were trying to tell him. But you knew he did, he just didn’t want to do it.    You would clench your fists, trying to look threatening. Your back straightening, and on your tippy toes even though you knew you could never be as tall as him. It never ever worked though, he would just continue to laugh harder, but that was just the routine.    “Then do it yourself, sweetie. I wake up at the asscrack of dawn just to make you a cup of coffee. I don’t know about you, but that’s the best show of love.”      “Oh I will. I’ll do it well.”      And so, you weren’t lying. The two of you began to take turns. You woke up even earlier than you did for work, and made him his coffee (with extra sugar, just as he likes it) while also making yours, making sure to relish the bitter and frankly delicious black drink, void of any sweetening. The next day, he would as well. He never listened to your sugar lectures though, making sure to add 3-4 cubes just to make you angry.    You had pretty much given up on all hope of ever getting your ideal coffee from Satoru, it was beyond him to even listen. Besides, you had grown to like the sweetness.   Speaking of brown sweet liquids, it was a perfect hot cocoa morning. The snow was beginning to pile up outside, pure white blanketing just about everything. You hastily threw on an oversized sweater Gojo owned, which you had found strewn on the ground.   You rolled your eyes, that guy was a mess. What would he do without you?   Trudging and stumbling your way into the kitchen like a newborn fawn, you flicked on the lights. As soon as the lights came on, you shielded your eyes from the brightness. Cursing as you pulled out a chair, your eyes slowly adjusting, pulling the chair over to the shelves and cabinets out of reach.   Now standing on the wooden chair, you grumbled. So much for being a good girlfriend, your legs ached for some reason, so every time you stood on your tippy toes, you winced.   Knocking down a bottle of vegetable oil into the sink, you were startled by such an incredibly loud noise. Your eyes widen and your legs tangle as you scramble, almost falling backwards. Grabbing onto the cabinet’s ledge, you breathed a sigh of relief as the chair stabilized.    This was a blessing in disguise, as the chocolate syrup came into view.   A feeling of triumph flooding you, you happily hummed gently pulling it out. Setting it down on the counter, you got down, moving the chair over to the right.   Standing back onto the chair, you placed a finger on your lips, slightly rubbing them. Your memory wasn’t doing you very well, forgetting where all the extra add-ons for baked goods were.   Your tongue stuck out to the side, swinging a random cabinet’s doors wide open. You had guessed correctly, sprinkles of various vivid colors stood idly, eye-catching colors on full display. A fine coat of dust had settled on the caps.   You coughed into your arm, now rummaging through the many sprinkles that Gojo would insist on buying because, “they were too cute to pass up.”      Sometimes, you swore the guy was a middle-aged Pinterest mom.   Yanking out a half opened bag of Jumbo Marshmallows, you did a small victory dance. Normally, Gojo would inhale the darned things, but he was asleep, and very soundly at that. Finally able to have your first taste of marshmallows in a while, you popped a couple in your mouth, practically melting.   So sweet.   Strolling over to the fridge while popping more marshmallows in your mouth, you lazily threw the bag onto the counter. Swinging the fridge door wide open, you shivered at the cold air, hauling a jug of milk out.   As usual, it was half full. Gojo would insist on eating all his cookies with milk, and if he didn’t have milk with his cookies, he would not eat them, stating that it was against his beliefs to even begin to stare at a cookie without a cold glass of milk at the side.   He was probably a 9 year old trapped in a 28 year olds body.   Humming a short tune, you poured the milk into a mug that Gojo had bought for you as a souvenir on a business trip. Painted onto it was a beautiful scene. Flourishing, vibrant flowers only half-heartedly concealing an undisturbed pond, deers frolicking around it. The mug was your favorite cup, and even Gojo, who most likely had the memory span of a goldfish when it came to unnecessary facts such as this one, knew it.   You flipped the chocolate syrup bottle upside down, smacking the top. Making a note to yourself to buy chocolate syrup the next time you went out. Strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in closer.   “Boo.”   Startled, you twirled around, expecting a rather friendly home invader, or something along the lines of that. Instead, you were greeted with Gojo Satoru’s face. Satoru’s eyebrow twitches, looking at you with an amused expression.   “Scared? We’re on the same boat.” he snickered, “woke up to some loud ass bang.” Gojo sleepy whispered into your ear, ruffling your hair with his large, calloused hands. His chin now resting on your right shoulder.     “I dropped the vegetable oil on accident.” You ignored the light, fluttering feeling when he touched you.     “Gosh, you’re a clumsy one aren’t you, sugar?”       Scoffing, you whip your head back to the hot chocolate. An unhealthy serving of chocolate syrup was splattered inside the mug, already blending with the milk.   “Don’t turn your back on me, pumpkin.” whining playfully, tugging at your left shoulder. There was something about such a playful, childish Gojo that you loved. You wished you got to see it more often.    You pretend to be annoyed, looking at him, now standing up without the support of your shoulder, in the eye now. A flicker of mischievousness over his face, he looks down at you.   “How thoughtful.” kissing your temple, he yawned. “Making hot chocolate for me? Oh hey- you even got the exact same amount of chocolate I like.”   “Satoru.” hands on your hips, you were bemused. How could one even like sugar this much?    “This is an ungodly amount of chocolate syrup, and can NOT be good for you.”   His warm gaze stared back, a slight curve to his lips now. You swear you could die a happy girl now, Gojo wasn’t sleepy very often, so when he was, you made sure to relish it. Usually, when you were lucky enough to be in the presence of a sleepy Gojo, he was always softer. Giving you small, coy smiles. Your retort didn’t even seem to register in his brain in the slightest.   “I want it, though.”   You sighed, facepalming.     “Ooooh, marshmallows!” suddenly bursting with energy he never exhibited before seeing the sugary treat, his long arm extended over to the bag, tugging at it to get it closer to him before finally shoving 3 or more into his mouth.   “Satoru!” you yank his hand back from the entrance of his mouth, able to save a few, albeit a bit ugly and smooshed, marshmallows.   “Wha?” he rubbed his eyes, chewing noisily on the marshmallows he was lucky enough to get into his mouth.   “Baby. We need those marshmallows, here, can you microwave a bowl of them? Save a few for later.”   He nodded obediently, tugging a bowl out of the “washed dishes” section of the sink. Wiping it down sloppily with a towel. He dug his hand into the marshmallow bag, throwing a few handfuls into the bowl before carefully placing the bowl into a microwave, sneaking a few more into his mouth before jabbing at a few buttons.    “There.” he gave you a crooked grin and a thumbs up, walking back over to you, placing warm fingers against your cheek, suddenly jumping back.   “Holy shit, babygirl, you’re cold.”   About to respond, you too realized how cold you were. Lightly shivering, your hands seemed to be blocks of ice.   “Babe, can you go get an extra sweater-”   Hands under your sweater (well, technically his) suddenly, his warm, big hands massaged your breasts. You yelped, the hot contact against your cold skin was electrifying. His thumbs, rubbing over your nipples lazily, sent even more shivers down your spine. Quietly moaning, you looked back at Gojo, who seemed to thoroughly savor every little sound you made.   “Like that, lil girl~?”   “S-Satoru! Not now… I’m making you s-something!”   “Hot cocoa doesn’t take a chef to make.” he placed kisses on your neck, lightly suckling on your bare skin.   “I-I know, but just… N-not now.” you stammered, he was now tweaking your nipples, gently pulling them. He didn’t seem to register the request though, but instead was drawing lazily  on your breast.   “That better, missy?” he questioned, watching you catch your breath and gulp. Resting his chin on your shoulder once more.   “Mmmmm.” you responded, thoroughly enjoying his warm touch. Closing your eyes, enjoying the mystifying feeling his hands always gave you.    Loudly, the microwave beeped. Suddenly jumping up from the loud occurrence, Gojo cursed under his breath and jogged over to the microwave, swinging the handle open.   “Great news, (Y/N). I didn’t burn the marshmallows!”   Grumbling under your breath, and wishing all hell to the microwave for disrupting such an intimate event, you nodded, giving him a few weak claps for his rather stupid achievement. Gesturing for him to bring the bowl over, you pulled out a spoon from the drawer beneath you.   As soon as Gojo placed the bowl on the counter, he zoomed back to where he had left off, grabbing one of your breasts and squeezing it. This time, he was massaging one of your shoulders.   Your breathing was heavier when he did this, Gojo noted, watching as you struggled to mix the chocolate syrup and milk together. He did this for a while, eyeing the cooling marshmallow.   He swiped up a dollop, wiping it down your neck. Letting out a gasp by the sudden warmth, you assumed it was Gojo’s mouth. To your surprise, it wasn’t.   He licked the cloud of fluff, before straight up placing his entire mouth on it, lightly sucking and licking your skin. Your panties were getting awfully wet.   “L-love, we n-need the fluff to a-add the finishing touch to t-the hot cocoa.” you would mutter, trying not to collapse from the pleasure.   “You getting wet?” now lightly nibbling on your skin, his hand left your breast, dunking his hand underneath the fabric of your panties. He sneered, realizing the puddle that had seeped itself into the material.   “Aw, you’re absolutely wet. Fuck am I saying?” he swirled his finger around your entrance, lightly dipping one of his fingers in before he took it out. Whimpering, your walls clenched around something that wasn’t there.   “Anyways, let's get back to the hot cocoa!” innocently licking his glistening finger, he looked at you.   ‘What? Y-you can’t do that to me-!”   “Isn’t that what you wanted?” he chirped back, smiling devilishly.   “That’s what I wanted before-”   “Hush up, slut.” he rubbed your head with one hand, the other, stroking your cheek.     You didn’t realize how hot you got when he called you a slut, whimpering, the hot cocoa long forgotten on the counter as you leaned into his chest.     “Aw, you’re so cute.” tugging on your cheeks softly, you look up at him, while he looked down. Even though you were his girlfriend, you didn’t really see his eyes often. They were a brilliant shade of aquamarine, flecks of a darker blue were also sprinkled amongst the sea of various shades of blue.   “You want something? You’re giving me those puppy eyes.” Still pulling at your cheeks, he stared down patiently, unable to hide the smile on his face.   “I hate when you tease me.” you blurt out, surprisingly coherent, even though Gojo was pinching your cheek. Another flicker of amusement on his face.   “That’s not how you ask for something you want.”   He stopped pinching your cheeks, now staring at you. You couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking about, his face was blank, eyes cloudy.   “Mmm, I’ll give you one last chance before you get punished. Now missy, what do you want?”   You tugged at the hem of his pants, still making eye contact.   “You can’t have that, sweetie.” he straightened you back up, so that you weren’t leaning on his chest any longer. “It’s way too early.”   “Then what was the point of teasing me?” you groaned, clasping your hands together and looking at him. “Please?” you were sure to have your eyelashes flutter.   He laughed, shaking his head. “Sorry, princess.”   You groaned, getting down onto the cold floor, getting onto your knees, looking at his pleasurably entertained face.   “...What about now?”    He chuckled, rubbing your head again. “No, baby. I’m just not in the mood, but I can make a recommendation that works with me. Although, you’re really cute when you’re on your knees for me.”   You nodded, nervously anticipating whatever he wanted to do.   You didn’t need to wait, though, he carried you over to the table, like a princess, unclothing you quickly. Throwing his sweater onto the floor once again, you felt your heart jump a little. A small pile of clothing consisting of the sweater, your panties, and a t-shirt was crumpled up on the floor.   He cupped your breasts, leaning over the table to look at them. His expression softened, placing delicate kisses on each breast, making you gasp a little.   “So cute.” whispering, rubbing your nipples once again.   Your hands found their home in Gojo’s hair, now clenching onto his snowy white locks. He grunted a little as you pushed his head further into your chest, effectively telling you to start suckling on the now slightly abused domes.    “Just a sec, (Y/N).” extending his impossibly long limbs to grab the marshmallow fluff bowl, his long fingers danced at the rim, then pulled it closer to his chest. Yanking the spoon out of the bowl, he spread the lukewarm fluff on your body, you weren’t expecting such warmth, and you let out a yelp, realizing what he was slathering onto you.   “Satoru! D-did you forget what I said e-earlier?”   “Nope, I just don’t care.” sadistically grinning, he ducked his head down, the space between your breasts and his face non existent. He had practically smooshed himself into your embrace, your arms around his head. He was good with his tongue, you had to admit, too good.   Goosebumps grew on your skin, no matter how many times you two fucked senseless, he still had such an effect on you. His tongue swirling around your nipple, fingers rubbing and teasing the other. You felt his hot breath against your skin, and you couldn’t help but think how good it felt.     Strands of hair tickled you as he began to noisily slurp, before coming back up again. Your breast was glistening with spit, few thin lines of marshmallow fluff left over. He licked them up, before scooping up a few dollops of marshmallow fluff onto you, looking hungrily at the attention-starved breast, before diving back down. Fingers now giving the spoiled nipple almost close to 0 action.     He licked the hard nipple a few more times before sucking onto it, as if he was a baby. I mean, he probably was. Afterall, he was a manchild. Regardless, you found yourself heavily breathing, hugging his head like it was the last thing you’d ever do. His teeth lightly nibbled, making you jump a little. Now biting onto it, you squealed.   He glanced up, before going back down, licking the sensitive bud. You felt a rush near your lower regions, a familiar warmth rushed to your cheeks.   “S-Satoru! I think I’m gonna-!”   You weren’t even going to finish the sentence, the white, hot liquid pooling out of you as soon as you uttered a few words. Gojo’s attention was now focused on you, before looking down.   “Woah, lil girl. That’s a large mess. I didn’t know your pussy needed any attention.” he directed his gaze towards your pussy, spreading the folds and softly examined it.   “How pretty.” he muttered, he flicked his thumb on your clit, making you moan loudly.   “FUCK!” you threw a hand over your mouth, he laughed, his breath tickling you.    “You’re really wet.”   Without any warning before hand, he dove in between your legs, beginning to noisily slurp at your folds, dipping his tongue into your entrance.   You began to practically scream louder, you were fuzzy, your body, your mind, everything. Unable to cover your moans, you began to grimace at the stares your neighbors would give you when you went out for the mail. Gojo would laugh, telling you that, “He was just trying to show the world you were his.” and not pay any mind, cursing him for being so skilled, you struggled to contain all the noises you were making.   You felt his tongue tease your entrance playfully, flicking your clit a few times for extra measure, you were now wildly thrashing, and you knew Gojo couldn’t wait to ridicule you over dinner.   About to straight up shove his head closer into you, his tongue finally stuck inside of you. Letting out a sigh of relief mixed with added pleasure, he skillfully lapped at your juices. Noisily slurping away at you, he glanced up.    You were trying to sit up, but were struggling as you did so. The waves of pleasure sent you crashing back down onto the table.   You felt him exhale through his nose, tickling you once again. He closed the little space between you and his face, as soon as he was in contact with your skin, you wrapped your legs around his back, trying to close the distance that wasn’t there.   Now, his tongue was reaching you in places you’d never think he would. Flush, hot skin was sweating against the table surface, but you paid no mind, promising yourself to wipe the top later. Hair strands practically glued to the sides of your head due to the sweat, you whined again, feeling yourself close to cumming.   You were about to speak again, warning Gojo, but you couldn’t. Before the words could even spill out of your mouth, you felt yourself burst.   Gojo, seemingly unaware, was still lapping at your walls. You looked at him, breathing heavily. His eyes widened, and you felt him stop licking for a while, before you saw him gulp and stand back up.   His eyes twinkled a little in the light, and you straightened, sitting on the table, your heart still beating rapidly.   “You never told me you were gonna cum.”   You turned your head to the side, about to retort, before you realized the empty bowl of marshmallow fluff.   “Satoru! I told you to not use it all!” (resposting because i think im shadowbanned, please interact if u saw this!)

[rivers-rambles21]

The one with the road trip

Part 15 of The one where Bucky has a cute neigbour series!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader (f)

Warnings | 18+ only  - no smut but mentions of it

Chapter 15 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 1 | Masterlist

Apologies for any mistakes, this has been written on my phone and its a bit difficult to edit. Once I’m back with a working laptop I’ll give it a once over :)

Bucky had intended on renting a bike so you could ride down to Louisiana but with Sam’s suit it would’ve been an impossible feat. 

He settled for hiring an SUV and added you both to the insurance so you could take it in turns driving on the long trip down south. 

“Been together one day and we’re already on our first trip” You teased as you rested your feet on the dash, taking in the scenery as Bucky drove. His metal hand gripped the steering wheel as he peaked a glance over to your bare legs, resisting the urge to pull over. 

“You’re the one having a mid life crisis doll not me” You feigned offense and swatted the soldier beside you, pleased to get a hit in as he tried to dodge your attack. His eyes remained on the road as he grasped your hand in his. “Less of that thank you” He laughed, bringing your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the back before giving it back to rest on your thigh, his hand not leaving yours. 

“Looking forward to seeing Sam again?” He didn’t respond but his face said it all. “You’re so dramatic” You chuckled as you leant down to root around in your bag for the road trip snacks. Retrieving a bag of cashews, you offered it to Bucky who gladly took a handful. 

“I just know he’s going to ask a billion questions about stuff we’ve not even discussed yet, that we’re probably not even ready to talk about. He didn’t stop asking about you y’know? Y/n this, Y/n that…he kept threatening to ask you out.” 

“Oh he did” 

The car swerved slightly as Bucky's grip on the wheel tightened, his concentration lapsing for a split second. 

“He did what?” He asked, tearing his eyes from the road to glance over at you. 

“It was just a bit of harmless flirting-” You began before being cut off. 

“We flirted.” Bucky stated, his jaw clenching. 

“We also did a lot of things just friends don’t do. Relax Sarge, he only asked to get a reaction out of me.” 

Bucky grunted in response, knowing his reaction was a tad over the top but he couldn’t help it. You were his. 

“We could always mess with him in return.” You pondered as you took a swig of your drink. “Maybe hold off on telling him about us, it’s only meant to be a flying visit anyway isn’t it? So we wouldn’t have to pretend for long… play him at his own game?” 

Bucky smirked in response, completely on board with your little plan.

  The next few hours passed with the typical car games and a quick power nap as Bucky continued driving. 

“How long until you start at Starks?” 

“A month thank god, the GRC wanted me gone pretty quickly, I didn't have to work my notice which was a blessing really. I’ll schedule a day to go and clear out my desk and say my goodbyes. Will you still get your pension if we live out of the country?” 

“I’m not sure to be honest, I can pick up work wherever we are though, it wouldn’t be the first time. I’m good with my hands” 

“You’re telling me” You muttered under your breath. Bucky heard you loud and clear and let out a laugh as he recalled how you spent most of last night. “Are we crazy? Travelling with no plan, barely any money and only just starting out as a couple?” 

“Oh absolutely”

Eventually Bucky took a break from driving after you stopped for food in a roadside diner. It had been a while since you’d driven but you wanted to give Bucky the chance to get some sleep, something you knew he still struggled with. 

Despite telling him to try and get some sleep on the back seats, he remained upfront with you, doing his best to battle the drowsiness that had overcome him. He’d not gotten much rest the past few weeks, from battling the Flag Smashers in Europe, to hunting down Zemo and then back to New York. In truth he was worried he’d have a nightmare and wasn’t sure on how he’d react but upon your insistence, he tried to get some shut eye. After an hour or so he dropped off, the sound of you humming along to a song on the radio sending him off into a dreamless sleep. 

Bucky couldn’t quite believe it, he couldn’t remember the last time he slept without being haunted by memories of the Winter Soldier. Granted, he only got four hours of sleep , but it was the best he’d felt in a long time.

When it came to your turn to get some shut eye Bucky insisted on stopping over in a hotel for the night. You’d tried to convince him a motel would suffice after you lost the battle of you sleeping in the car but he was victorious. 

To be frank, after spending so many hours in the car, you were grateful to be sleeping in a bed with your super soldier by your side. 

As you slept, Bucky took the time to fire off a few emails advising he’d be ending his lease. Having slept earlier, he felt energised and was content in browsing the internet as you slept tucked into his arm. 

He did his best not to wake you as he opened a selfie from Shuri of her with Ayo and Nomble, a chuckle escaping his lips as Shuri and Nomble looked to be thoroughly enjoying themselves on a boat trip in New York whilst Ayo sulked in the background. 

He also replied to an email from his therapist's office, letting them know he’d be absent from his next session but planned on returning the following week.

Bucky was tempted to let Sam know he was coming but thought it best to surprise him.

The next day was much of the same, both of you switching the drive and stopping off at diners for food. Due to the lack of respect Bucky had for the speed limit, you were making good time and would be in Delacroix the following morning. 

“-it was like I didn’t exist. Honestly it was the most humbling experience of my life” 

“Sergeant Barnes in his uniform… now that is something I’ve got to see.” 

“Maybe one day”  

Your eyebrow perked at the thought. “Good god man” You groaned dramatically and sank further into your seat, giggling as you caught sight of the blush covering his cheeks. “For what it’s worth, lack of nutrients from the rationing clearly messed with her eyesight.” You were genuinely baffled how Peggy didn’t swoon for the man next to you.

“Where were you in the 40’s when I needed you huh?” 

“I doubt I’d have been your type” 

“Intelligent, strong woman with a great sense of humor? And thats not even mentioning your ass.. Oh no, definitely not my type” He replied sarcastically. 

“Ha ha fine, I’ll take your word for it.” 

“I’d have taken you dancing, maybe gone to a show or even the carnival. Anything you wanted.” He took your hand in his again and kissed the back of it as he pondered just how he’d of won you over back then. He usually didn't like to dwell on life before the war, the pain of losing his family and the future he lost was too much but having you in his life somehow made the memories hurt less. Having you with him now along with the future he could picture with you helped him make peace with his past life and accept that it wasn’t something he could ever go back to. 

When Steve was returning the stones, he did wonder whether he should go back with him but the realisation that there wasn’t anything waiting for him apart from a time that he didn't belong to made his decision to remain in the present resolute. And by god was he thankful he stayed.

On your way to your final hotel before arriving at Sams, you’d taken over the driving and had kept Bucky entertained with your off key singing and terrible car games. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” As it turns out, Bucky was a sore loser. 

“What? It counts!!” 

“You cannot see bacteria Y/N” 

“Yes I can! It’s right...right… right there!” You pointed to a random bit of the car interior and held back a laugh at a clearly unamused Bucky.

“You’re so full of shit” 

“How do you know I can’t see it huh? Guess it’s my turn again, I spy with my little -” 

“No” He cut off as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Absolutely not. I’m going to choose a game.” 

You let out a little smile and continued focusing on the road until the super soldier landed on something he liked. 

“Okay okay, would you rather sounds fun. Doll, would you rather have the superpower of being invisible or ability to fly.” 

“Aw come on Buck these are tame! If I have to answer, without a doubt invisibility.” 

“Not dirty enough for you sweetheart?” A tingle rang down your spine at your new nickname. “I’d have to agree, invisibility easily.” 

“Buck you’re an actual superhero, you’ve already got powers, leave some for us mere mortals!” 

“... you think I’m a superhero?” 

“....you’re literally an Avenger.” You reached across towards the man beside you, keeping your eyes on the road as you pressed your hand against his forehead. “Are you feeling okay?” 

Bucky rolled his eyes at your sarcasm and swatted your hand away from his head. “Fine you made your point.” 

You shook your head as you returned your hand to the steering wheel, tapping away to the song on the radio. 

“The rest of these questions are boring” He muttered as he furiously scrolled through his cell. 

“C’mon, go R rated” 

“It’s no fun when I already know the answers to these!” 

“Pfft doubtful, come on, hit me” 

“Spit or swallow, you’re a swallower doll.See?” 

“Okay okay! You’re right, I give in. How about we just ask each other some questions?” 

“But you already know everything,” He remarked, throwing a few cashews into his mouth. 

“When did you first see me as someone other than a friend?” You’d thrown him off guard with that question, his hand stuck in mid air as he went to throw more snacks into his mouth. 

“Wouldn't you rather know my most embarrassing sexual encounters?” He offered but was met with silence. “Fine……. I’ve never seen you as just a friend. Yes we were friends before we became more and honestly Y/n if it never progressed further than just friendship I would’ve been fine with it, more than fine with it y’know? Meeting you was the best fucking thing-” “Buck, it’s okay” Your hand reached out towards him and squeezed his thigh as you kept your eyes on the road. 

“There’s more… before we officially met in the lobby when that creep wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone, I’d seen you around. I was coming back from lunch with Yori and he was complaining about having gone for burgers instead of our usual and there you were, headphones in completely oblivious to the world and searching for your keys in your purse as usual. You were just so carefree - everything I wanted to be. And then a couple of days later we met and I was a goner.”

You bit your lip as you fought back a smile, overwhelmed by his honesty. It was a welcome feeling, knowing you weren’t the only one that felt an attraction almost immediately. 

“I’d seen you around too, before we officially met I mean. It’s kind of hard to miss you” You chuckled as you snuck a glimpse over at him and found him doing his usual glare. “It was pretty early on for me as well, do you remember when we went for coffee?” 

“And you ordered us two cups of sugar? Yeah I remember” 

“Mocha Latte’s aren’t bad for you… they just give you a bit of a buzz” 

“Especially if you order extra cream…” 

“Anyway! I’ve always been attracted to you, I’m not blind y’know but after seeing this dark looming strong man consume a drink like that, and have some residue cream left on his lower lip mind you, I just knew that it was more than just a crush. There’s something oddly charming and attractive about seeing someone so intimidating be so soft. It’s like I’m the only one who gets to see that side of you and I love it” 

Bucky didn't quite know what to say, he was slightly flustered at the compliments you were throwing at him and by the knowledge that you’d been interested far earlier than he had ever dreamed of. 

“We’re idiots aren’t we? For not realising sooner.” 

“Oh without a doubt”

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[hawksky]

You wake up on your ex's fire escape; wc 2.5k

A/N: I don't really know how to categorize this ? starts as funny, gets into angst with a happy/hopeful ending. I might write this again for another character and make it 0 angst but using Megumi just let this get away from me. Thank you @sixeyesgojo for reading through my first draft, it helped me edit a lot since 😘. Although I have not looked over the ending since I wrote it, I'm done working on this fic so sorry if it falls flat.

CW: Mentions of excessive alcohol consumption.

Suggested listening: song 1 and song 2 you can pick just one to cater your experience (they are VERY different vibes) or switch over around the shampoo situation.

Objectively, there were good ways to wake up. In the arms of a beautiful person, with cold sheets and a warm body, or with the scent of your favourite breakfast wafting through the air. No disrespect to mornings at all, there were good ways to wake up, you were mature enough to recognize this.

A perplexingly rough, wet, and warm sensation gliding across your cheek, while last night’s jeans dug into your waist, and there was a pounding in your head? It was fairly safe to say this was not a good way to wake up.

It spoke volumes for how out of it you were that it was only just beginning to register in your brain that you weren’t at home, you were not even on a bed, and that the continued licks across your face were the work of animal far too large to be one of your friends cats.

“Fucking hell you’re supposed to be intimidating” you hear a voice grumble without much heat behind it.

As you forced your eyes open you are met with an excited dog tapping its paws in excitement of your presence, and the man behind the half hearted grumble. His gaze was unmistakably familiar, but his expression could not be more foreign to you.

“uhm, Hi” you croaked out while plastering a wide grin in hopes he wouldn’t murder you.

His eyebrow raised on instinct in response. You knew he was waiting for you to explain what you were doing, but the reality was you didn’t have an answer.

“I wish I could explain, but honestly I’m not sure what happened – last thing I remember was being bought another shot… Wait, where am I exactly?” You were desperately hoping you came off as charming instead of pathetic given the circumstances.

“How out of it are you?” he scrunched his face in confusion as he muttered to himself. “You’re on my fire escape, it’s in Ikebukuro? Tokyo… Japan, in case you needed the reminder”

It felt infantilizing to have him scold you like this, which only made this next part all the more difficult. You were not supposed to be Ikebukuro. You were not supposed to be in Tokyo. You were supposed to be in Yokohama. What was even more concerning is that you were definitely not supposed to be on your old fire escape, the one connected to the apartment your ex still lived in.

As you painstakingly pushed yourself upright, a warm weight laid on your upper thigh, a furry face nuzzling into your stomach – you wondered if she was aware of tension between you and her owner. You scratched behind her ears, letting Jade know she was in fact a good girl despite the earlier reprimand from her owner.

As much as you’d love to spend the day sitting on a fire escape petting your ex’s dog, you had to go home, you just need to call –

Your phone. Where was your phone? You felt around frantically for your phone, only to come up with nothing. A light sense of panic bubbles in the pit of your stomach, only to be swiftly interrupted.

“it’s already charging, I plugged it in last night, you dropped in inches away from falling down”

So, he was still watching you despite having returned inside long ago. It was difficult for you to parse this sort of gesture, how caring could it be to plug someone’s phone in when you still left them to sleep outside? Maybe he was just doing everything he could to get rid of you. It was too much to try and analyze for someone who blacked out and woke up in a different city.

“Why did you come here?” you hear him bite out from inside. It sounds harsh, but it feels like his stange way of inviting you inside.

“I don’t know what you’ve picked up from these circumstances, but not knowing is kind of a part of the problem. Believe me, there’s no amount of conscious desperation that would leaf me to sleeping on a fire escape, even yours”

You glanced around the apartment to avoid his void expression; it was spotless. But it was even harder noticing, the turned over picture frames, your favourite quilt still on the back of the couch – remnants of the past living in the present.

This tension only increased as a mug of freshly brewed green tea was placed in front of you. How thoughtful to remember you hated coffee, to realize your throat was probably killing you – you would have tasted a creeping bitterness from all these emotions, if it wasn’t overpowered by what was the distinct taste of your favourite brand that had to be special ordered.

He had always complained, there were plenty of good options for tea at the grocery store, why wasn’t that enough for you? It was so much extra effort to special order from a tea shop across town, the only place that you were able to charm the owner into ordering for you.

“How are you still so fucking awful at taking care of yourself?” he spat the words out like an insult, it was jarring honestly. Despite the time away from each other, it was no less strange to feel his detachment.

He moved towards the door beckoning Jade to follow. “There’s a towel and change of clothes in the bathroom, you should probably take a shower. If I’m not back by the time you leave, just lock up before you go, I haven’t moved the spare key.” Without looking back or waiting for a response he left.

You were starting to recognize your growing frustration – you had known him how long? Dated and lived together for a not-insignificant amount of time? Yet here you were, no idea how to interpret this strange morning, much less his last comment. Did he want you to be here when he returned? Were you supposed to leave and act like you had never been there? Could he genuinely be as indifferent as he wanted you to believe? It pissed you that your feelings were probably plain on your face.

You searched for your phone, finding it on what used to be your side of the couch. It felt ridiculous to think you ever had a side of the couch, but you were both creatures of habit and slowly without even thinking you both made your own little sanctuary mere metres away from each other.

You awoke your phone, expecting a flood of texts and phone calls from your friends, only to find nothing. Not a single check in from anyone. You open the group chat and furiously tap out a message.

<Hey assholes who let me go home on my own last night? Anyways good job I blacked out and I’m on Fushiguro’s fire escape! You are all absolutely useless to me I swear to god.>

Your phone vibrates rapidly as you place it down but you’re not in the mood to field their questions.

You’re tempted to leave now, just to get it over with, go home and crawl into bed and forget any of this ever happened. But, you felt gross, it was late enough in the morning that you could run into someone you knew, and you missed the water pressure here.

As you got ready for your shower you surveyed your options. You refused to smell like him, but the only other bottle in the shower was doggy shampoo. Surely dog’s fur and human hair weren’t so different right? Jade did have a beautiful coat, very soft and shiny… You reprimanded yourself for the ridiculous idea, but the point remained, there had to be something else for you to use.

Your brain, far more alert than it was 30 minutes ago, thought of all the things he hadn’t changed, all the fixtures still in place. You had always kept an extra set of all your supplies under the sink. By the grace of all that is good on this cruel cruel earth, they were there, in all their dusty glory, your prized hygiene products sat unmoved under the sink. It would have been sick and twisted to have to leave your ex-boyfriend’s apartment smelling exactly like him, left to spend the rest of the day agonizing over whether you should take another shower.

As you entered the shower you wondered more. He had to have noticed the softness in your eyes, the faint smile you wore just having an ounce of his attention again, the way ti widened at every caring gesture, and falling with every biting remark.

Yes, it hurt every day missing him. Yes, it would hurt if he hated you. But none of that compared to the feeling of not knowing. What were you supposed to do with all these residual feelings that have yet to go away? Were they worth the suffocation or should you strip them away?

You were proud of yourself, all these reminders of what you once had, in a place you once loved, and you had yet to break down, not even shedding a tear. If you weren’t wrapping yourself in a towel, you would’ve given yourself a pat on the back. This victory was short lived, everyone’s strength has its limits and you had taken yours too far past it already. But then you saw it, something you were completely unprepared for.

Laid neatly on top the closed laundry basket was THE outfit. It was nothing special to anyone else, just a grey sweater and loose joggers, but how many days had you spent alone breathing in his scent for comfort while he was gone? How many hard days at work had you reaching for these exact pieces as if they were the cure to all your problems?

Unable to support your own weight anymore, you fell to the tiled floor, tears spilling out, as your already sore throat grew even more hoarse – you felt like everything was collapsing around you. You weren’t expecting to see him, and you certainly weren’t expecting to need him in so many little ways. It was easy to forget how easily he weaves himself into your life, encroaching on everything you do.

The world disappeared behind each shallow breath, and an endless stream of tears you couldn’t control. Your fingers scratch against your forearms repeatedly, trying to ground yourself in some reality you could no longer grasp. It is so exhausting trying to be over him, going through these cycles of strong emotions, over and over and over again.

Suddenly, for the second time in as few hours, you felt an overwhelming weight encompass your body.

Of course, his stupid fucking perfect dog would still know how to bring you out of a panic attack like he had spent so much time training when you started dating. You clutched to Jade as your breathing slowed, but it did nothing to stop your sobs, if anything it was just another painful reminder of everything you let go.

“Uhhh….” Megumi was frozen at the door, for the first time today he didn’t know what to do. His indifferent façade dropped as he observed the scene on his bathroom floor.

There’s nothing left to lose, not for a moment that he has seen this morning have you possessed more than an ounce of dignity, “So that’s it? You don’t know what to do either? You know it’s been a whole fucking year and I still haven’t figured out how to live without you. A whole year and I’m still a mess. I can’t survive being reminded of us, look at me. And yet every attempt to get over you was a knife twisting because they’ll never be you. Now I’m here and I get to witness the wonderful Megumi Fushiguro, unaffected, and you… you have it all together.” You trail off, giving to him everything left in you.

You weren’t expecting the confused and indignant expression on his face, “You think this is having it together?” His voice lightly raising with each word “This place might as well be a sealed shrine to you and our relationship. I haven’t thrown a single thing out, moved any furniture, bought anything new – the only thing that’s ‘new’ is your stupid tea I keep buying even though I hate it, and for fucks sake y/n I should’ve moved out. Every part of me that looks like I have it together is just my version of a mess.” He brushes a stray strand out of your face, his own face moving far too close for this to be purely platonic anymore “y/n I’m no better off than you are, I’ve just kept everyone from looking”.

“So what are we supposed to do with all this?” Your eyes shining, naïve hope seeping through your defenses at the confirmation that he couldn’t live without you either.

“We could try again” Somehow, it wasn’t quite what you needed to hear. “I, am going to get dressed, and then we’ll talk, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” He nodded lightly, pulling himself up and exiting with Jade on his heels.

Dressed in the clothes you thought would burn your skin to even touch let alone wear, you let out a long sigh as you sit on at the breakfast nook. “Look, Megumi, I need to know if you’ve worked through it, any of it? I can’t, I can’t wait another three years for you to tell me you can’t say the words I love you, that you can’t commit to more than a yearly rental, I can’t just have you here I need more security than that”

He pursed his lips, unsure of what he could say to that, how he could make sure you didn’t leave again.

“Megumi, I don’t need you to say it to me today, I don’t need you to commit to anything today, but I have to know you’ve tried that I can’t keep waiting for you”

“I… Just give me a minute, please” his voice weak pleading with you. You waited, knowing better than to rush him, laying a hand on top of his assuring him you weren’t going to run out the door.

“y/n, I’m supposed to be honest and vulnerable, I’m supposed to tell myself that people won’t abandon me just because I give them access to who I really am. I want to tell you I love you, because there’s no other explanation for feeling this way. For feeling like your eyes outshine the stars, that your mind is more brilliant than the sun. I’ve tortured myself for a year with the idea of you meeting someone who could give you everything I couldn’t, and selfishly I prayed they were awful, I wished you were miserable so I pretend the truth wasn’t real that I was not enough for you, that I couldn’t give you what you needed. I’ve never seen a loving relationship, certainly not for long enough to form memories, but I look at you and I can’t imagine anything else”

Your thumb reaches to brush away the stray tear sliding down his face as he spoke to you. Manoeuvring yourself around to be on the same side of the nook as him, you pull him into you, letting him bury his head into the crook of your neck. You placed a gentle kiss into his hair before whispered into his ear “You were always enough, I just needed you to know it too.”

not not a tag list: @satosuguslut @sandyscastle

[lunaverseimagine]

Nightmares

Prompt: Can I just hold your hand from Sarah’s (@yourssuccubus) 400 follower writing challenge!! Congratulations again <3

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Fred has been having nightmares ever since the war but they only seem to be getting worse. Will the reader’s comforting be enough for him?

Warnings: Angst (oopsies), nightmares

Word count: 1.4k

Tags: @flyingserpxnt @pcseidcnsvoid @cherrycolakxsses @strawberriesonsummer @haphazardhufflepuff @aaannabbanana @schlongbottom @wand3ringr0s3 @hemmoporro @fishstick-knows @sxphiiwrld Fic:

You woke to the feeling of something moving against your arm. Rolling over in bed, you saw Fred’s arm twitching against your own. His hair was stuck to his head, and tears slid down his cheeks, soaking the pillow. 

“Fred?” You shook his arm gently but he showed no sign of waking, tears continuing to leak from the corners of his eyes. You leaned closer to his ear and raised your voice as you said “Freddie, wake up!” His eyelids flew open and you watched as his face changed from a display of sadness to a closed book: jaw clenched, eyes downcast. You were still holding his arm where you’d shook it, your thumb gliding up and down his clammy skin. This happened at least a few times a week, and Fred was always embarrassed. You never knew how to convince him that there was nothing to be ashamed of, that you wanted to help him work through it.

“It’s ok Fred, it happens to all of us.” You said softly, placing a light kiss to his shoulder. 

“I don’t see you crying in your sleep y/n.” With that, Fred shook your hand off his arm and got up from the bed, grabbing a pillow. His hair was messy, sticking up at the back, and his cheeks were lined with tear-tracks. The sight felt like a weight in your stomach. “I’ll sleep on the sofa so I don’t disturb you.” He refused to look you in the eye.

“Freddie, please don’t. Stay here, I want you next to me.” You watched as his posture softened almost imperceptibly. You shuffled across the bed, making your way to the edge he was standing next to. Kneeling in front of him so that you were face-to-face, you cupped his cheeks gently in your hands. “Please.” You pressed your lips to his, and he hesitated before responding. After a moment his lips moved in time with yours, just like you were used to. This felt right. This felt like home. Your hand moved to take the pillow back from him and he didn’t resist as you removed it from his grip, placing it on the bed. Breaking the kiss, you moved to your side of the bed to give Fred room, and he silently climbed back in, lying to face away from you. You pressed your body against his back, arm holding his waist tightly. Your lips pressed soft kisses between his shoulder blades and you felt him relax into you.

“I love you Freddie.” You whispered to the darkness.

There was a long pause, almost too long, and you felt your insides tightening before you heard his sweet reply.

“I love you too y/n/n.”

--

Nothing had been the same between you and your childhood sweetheart since the war. You felt like you were treading on eggshells around him, always trying to say and do the right thing so you didn’t make his sadness worse. As far as you knew he hadn’t spoken to anyone about what he’d been through, his near death experience. And yet you knew it haunted him every time he closed his eyes. You wished he’d open up to you, let you help, but he never did, and every day you felt more and more unsure of whether your relationship would survive like this.

For four consecutive nights Fred had had nightmares. There had never been so many in a row before, and you couldn’t think of a reason why they were getting worse. Logical or not, the twist in your stomach was undeniable as you were awoken for the fourth night in a row. You didn’t understand: time was supposed to bring healing, not this repeated agony. You just wanted Fred to be ok, wished there was something you could do to help. At least you’d always been able to convince Fred to stay in bed with you where you could hold him - always, until now.

“Y/n, we can’t keep doing this.” Fred’s eyes were bloodshot as he sat up in bed, you sitting next to him, hand resting on his thigh. “It’s not fair on you.” 

You squeezed his thigh in an attempt to reassure him. “Fair? I don’t care about fair Freddie, I just want you to be ok. Do you- do you maybe want to talk about it? About your dreams, I mean?” You desperately searched his face for a sign that this would be the night he’d let you in, but instead he let out a dry laugh that made your blood run cold. 

“It’s not your problem. It shouldn’t be your problem y/n.” He shook his head, staring down at his lap and fiddling with the duvet that lay messily on top of you both. Almost to himself, he repeated “It shouldn’t be your problem.” You felt your eyes start to sting and you furiously blinked the tears away.

“I want to share everything with you Fred. Everything. That means good and bad, don’t you get it?” You took hold of his hand, tracing patterns on it with your thumbs as you silently urged him to look at you. He didn’t. “We’re a team, we’re supposed to deal with this together.” 

“Y/n, I love you, but Merlin,” his voice cracked with a sadness that you were only used to seeing while he was asleep, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Your thumbs stilled against his hand, thoughts freezing and then playing at high speed. He can’t be- is he breaking up with you?

“You don’t have to do this alone.” Your voice was breaking too but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Fred chose not to respond, instead standing up without turning to look at you. Somehow you knew, knew that this time he wouldn’t come back to bed.

“I’ll stay with George while I figure this out.” He was almost at the doorway, you still in bed. Him still not looking at you. What were you supposed to do? How could you fix this? It seemed that he’d already made up his mind, already built his walls to be impenetrable. You stopped thinking logically, all you knew is that you wanted as much time with him as he was willing give you.

“Can you- Can you just hold my hand Freddie? One last time?” Finally his eyes met yours. Finally he was seeing you, not just looking but seeing: what you were going through, how you’d been hurting too. How this would only hurt you more. But would it be enough to make him stay? He stayed rooted to the spot.

Tentatively you placed your feet on the floor, pushing yourself up from the bed. You were still looking into Fred’s eyes, willing him to keep seeing you. One foot in front of the other, slowly, as though you were afraid to spook him. The only sounds in the room were your light footsteps against the hardwood floor and the sounds of you and Fred breathing. After what felt like an eternity, you reached the doorway where Fred stood. Your faces were inches apart, breath mixing in the air between you. Neither of you dared look away, dared move your faces apart, but you didn’t move them together either, stuck in this twisted limbo. You moved your hand forwards, fingers reaching for Fred’s. Finally they grazed his skin, and it was like the spell between you had been broken. He clasped your hand tightly, then held the other one too, before crashing his lips against yours. You let out a slight moan against his lips, all the feelings you’d been bottling up coming to the surface. This just spurred him to deepen your connection, kissing you harder, tongue flicking into your mouth. You lost yourself in him, this man who you’d known for so long and yet sometimes felt that you hardly knew at all. This man who you loved. This man who you wanted to stay. That thought brought sense back to you and you broke the kiss, heavy breathing filling the room.

Your hands were still holding Fred’s, afraid to let go. You rested your forehead on his, searching his eyes. You built up the courage to ask the question you weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer to.

“What- what did that mean?”

Fred gulped, pulling his hands away from you and retreating further into the doorway. Your heart was thumping, and you had an overwhelming urge to cry or scream or fall to your knees as Fred spoke the words that broke your heart.

“That was goodbye.”

End

Part 2 here

A/N: So apparently angst is becoming a theme of mine... Thank you for reading, please don’t hate me xD I’m actually quite proud of this fic; it took me a while to write and has been through a lot of editing so I’d really appreciate feedback if you enjoyed it! It’s the likes, reblogs, and comments that inspire me to keep making content <3 Feel free to check out my writing challenge or other fics, I hope you’re having a good day/night! ~Lee

[junghoseokwife]

Merfolk in a Manhole 2

Merman! Yoongi, Merman! Seokjin, Merman! Jungkook, Merman! Jimin, Merman! Taehyung, Human! Namjoon, Human! Hoseok Human! Reader Summary: After getting kicked out of your apartment, you moved in with your parent close to the beach. Digesting as much salty air as you had, you became restless going to the beach to relax. A rather harsh wave smashed onto the beach bringing seaweeds a buttload of fishes and a hideous fish man with big bug eyes and webbed hands or was he a beautiful, sculpted tanned merman who needed help to find his friends? Paring: OT7 x reader Wordcount: 2.7k A/N: Sorry it took so long and I have been trying to get the hang of tumblr so please bear with me editing mistakes. Thank you for all the comments on the first chapter, I am never satisfied with my work so seeing you all like it makes me excited for more.

Your legs weren’t carrying you as fast as you wanted. You wanted to be as far away as possible. The financial stability you had been pining for had just been flushed down the drain and you were just so overwhelmed. You were never the most athletic of the bunch but today you could prove yourself wrong. The only sounds you could hear was the wind whipping against your body. You furiously tried to breathe, but the air was knocked out of you with every step you took. Your vision was collapsing on itself with the lack of oxygen that was entering your lungs. Your body shook violently as you round the corner of the street a little too late slamming your foot on the red and white traffic pole. The minor injury did not slow you down at all. You kept running the harsh pavement heating up under your foot, becoming a pain to move. Your name echoed through your head, your body jolting backwards slamming into a hard surface. You winced in pain as the adrenaline left your body, finally feeling the weight of your situation and the open wound on your leg .You watched the cars zoom past, too busy to care about the pedestrians waiting to cross; this foolish crusade of yours could have ended badly. The arm that had pulled you back tightened around your wrist. Your eyes scanned the road in front of you before looking up at the owner of the hand. “Hoseok” The drive was suffocating. Hoseok had not said anything after he bandaged your wounded leg and dragged you into his car. He tossed his now damage groceries, that he had dropped to chase you, into the trunk. Your anxiety peeking through as you nibbled at your fingernail. He looked through the rear view mirror letting out a disapproving sigh. “Stop that” He motioned for you to take your finger out of your mouth which you did reluctantly. He refocused on the road leaving you to your own devices once again. You decided to look out the window, small trees and dried grass was all you could see for miles. Crossing your arms you allowed the wind to blow your hair not minding the way it whipped your face. You had concluded Hoseok wasn’t carrying you home and you could not be happier, but a little knowledge on where you were going would put your mind at ease. You didn’t want to talk to anyone at the moment, but knowing Hoseok and you weren’t on good terms made you queasy so you did the only thing you knew would melt his heart. “Hoseok?” You whispered putting on the best puppy eyes you could “No” He deadpanned not even looking at you. You scoffed; leaning back into the seat “Rude” you whispered under your breath missing the way Hoseok had to bite his lips to contain his smile.

..........

“Wow!” Your voice was louder than you expected on the quiet beach. Hoseok had hauled your injured self out of the beach and dragged you onto the sand. You made a small snail trail that would be helpful if you got lost wondering the beach which wouldn’t be unlikely with how excited you were. You’ve never seen the ocean in your life; your parents never liked the salty air or the sound of the waves. They wanted to live in a wealthy area not ‘some fisherman’s village’ and you just never had time for recreational activities. The aquarium at work could not compare to the vast ocean and long beaches. You sat down, unable to walk anymore with your injured leg. The sand was warm under your skin, sighing contently; you looked at the water eyes reflecting the scorching sun that bounced of the ocean. Everything was serene Everything was beautiful The sand crunched under Hoseok’s weight, you didn’t pay attention to his persistent poking to busy soaking up the view that you might not see again in a while. You really should visit the beach more often. Hoseok was fed up with you ignoring him like he had done to you through the whole car ride. He spun the soda can, now full with condensation, trying to find the coldest area. He smiled devilishly as he placed it onto your skin. You quickly jolt back hissing in surprise, quickly slapping Hoseok on his arm before he had time to flee. He fell into fits of giggles when you grumbled, rubbing the your skin to heat it up. “Namjoon told me about what happened” He sobered up rather quickly opening the can and handing it to you. You swung the can into small circles, slushing around the soda in the can. You hummed as you took a sip, peeking over the can waiting for Hoseok to continue. He also seemed to be waiting for you to say something or at least to give a different reaction if the deer in headlights look on his face was anything to go by. You cracked a smile taking another sip before putting the can down. “Is that why you took me here then, to cheer me up?” “No. I wanted to see you in a swimsuit.” He leaned in a little causing his breath to tickle your face. The serious look on his face caused you to splutter a little. You made a disgusted face leaning back to put distance between both of you. Hoseok’s laughter sound like music to your ears. He returned to his former position, finally taking a sip from his own drink. Hoseok and you had developed a flirty relationship over the years; you both would either reciprocate or reject the other person advances. This type of friendship came out of nowhere but you had no problem with it. “You should move in with your parents. If you get kicked out I mean…” He rose from the ground dusting the sand off his clothes. “They’ve probably been waiting for you to go home for a while” He held out his hand for you to take pulling you off the beach. “I know” you whispered, picking the cans off the sand. “They’re just -”A sigh escaped your lips as stacked the cans ontop of each other following after your friend to the car. Your parents weren’t bad people they just weren’t ready to have children, and it showed. They always kept you at arm’s length, like you were an acquaintance. They would control your social circle deeming Hoseok not worthy to be your friend and that you should get married to Namjoon for connections to his family. “I know…” He smiled sadly “But it’s been years. They are old now. You can leave if it becomes too much.” He turned around taking the cans from you, resting them into the cup holder. You grunted deep in thought. What if he was right? Could they change? You looked back at the beach for the last time as the car started driving. You missed it already.

“Hoseok wait!!” He slowed down the car; you ignored the confusion all over his face as you popped the door open running far down the beach. You ignored the pain that surged through your body, probably reopening the wound on your leg. The sand clung to your feet like it was trying to stop you from where you were going, you stumbled a little before scooping the item in your hand. You turned around to the street giving Hoseok a thumbs up. Following the trail you made earlier in the day you clambered into the car closing the door. You held the item closer to your chest, contented.

..........

Packing was all you seemed to be doing nowadays. Your possessions seemed endless with the need to rest cutting in ever so often. You looked at your still bandaged leg frowning a bit. The leg had gotten infected when you underestimated the severity of the injury giving you a well overdue hospital visit. Hoseok refused to make you continue packing since you needed to ‘rest according to doctor instructions’. He was correct but your rest time prolonged your packing. You had the whole week to pack up and move out which you thought was more than enough time since you had the help of Namjoon and Hoseok, but they had been at work for majority of the week, so most of the work fell on your shoulders. Despite your lack of communication, you were thankful that your parents had paid for the damage to the apartment, saving Namjoon and your wallet from the burden of a lifetime. You decided to rest, wobbling over to your bed. You looked around your almost barren room spying the item you had picked up from the beach. It collected the sunlight in your room separating them in small rays illuminating small areas off the room. You weren’t sure if what you picked up was a seashell, it was shaped like one; if you put it close to your ears you could hear the sea but it looked like an aquamarine gem. It looked so fragile you didn’t dare to take it up after you accidentally dropped it earlier in the week. You have been thinking about making it into a necklace. Warmth spread around your chest whenever you looked at the seashell, you weren’t sure if it was a memory of your time at the ocean or because of how beautiful it looked just sitting on your bedside table. You taped the final box, bending backward to stretch your back. You let out a pleased groan when the muscle loosened. You looked at the clock, just in time you thought. The boxes were already lined up at the front of your apartment waiting for the moving truck. Namjoon had texted you, sorrowful that he couldn’t be there to help you move out. He was just so endearing you couldn’t be mad at him. You sat down on one of the boxes, checking the time. “Any minute now” You grumbled staring at the phone like it would cause time to speed up. When the sound of feet approached you, you quickly got up from the box to give the movers space to do their job. But the sound of your name caused you to look away from your phone. “Mom?” Her eyes were glassed over as she took in your form. You guess that happens when you haven’t seen your only child for years. She covered her mouth choking on her tears a little before turning to your father. They really aged gracefully. The fine lines and wrinkles on their face gave them a softer appearance than what you were used to. They looked like grandparents, kind and wise. You could imagine your mom baking cookies and your dad making a fool of himself trying to help her before she kicks him out of the kitchen. ‘Imagine’ “Mom” She teared up repeating what you had called her. “I’m so sorry, my daughter” Few words had to be spoken to know what that meant. How deep it cut you? You might never know, but the tears streaming down your face had said enough for your parents. The movers quickly stacked the boxes into the truck not sparing a second glance at you and your parents tear eyed and red faces, probably to not make you uncomfortable. After finalizing the move with you the men returned to the truck transporting everything to your new residence. Your father started off in the direction of their vehicle not saying anything to both you and your mom. Her watery smile struck you in your heart, she clasped her frail hands. “Let’s go home”

..........

“Mom!!” She placed a hand over heart still not used to the term of endearment. She wasn’t sure how she went through most of your life not liking the term. She hummed, still stirring the porridge she turned to look at you. You were clinging onto the door frame for dear life having woken up early to go to work. It would take an hour or two to reach but you didn’t mind. You ha adjusted nicely into your new home despite it being a couple days. Your parents had tried their best to make you feel welcomed, correcting their past mistakes. Asking about Hoseok and Namjoon ever so often, trying to integrate your friends into their lives.

“Have you seen my wetsuit?” Before your mother could answer, your father was at the door handing your wetsuit to you. He didn’t say anything as per usual, walking back to his chair on the front porch to overlook the sea. You folded the warm wetsuit placing it under your arm; he must’ve hanged it outside on the line for it to dry since you were too tired to do it last night.

“Thanks dad” You whispered. He grunted as a reply waving you off to get dressed.

Old age does change how someone perceives life. Your parents seemed to value a more peaceful, simple life. Unlike their younger selves who wanted money, business and connections. Now your mom went fishing with your father, she hummed songs as she planted flowers in the windowsills or baked for the children in the village a mile or so from the beach where you reside. The beach house was rather beautiful perched on a cliff, surrounded by shrubs and coconut trees, which mom always had use for. She would experiment making grater cake or coconut pudding allowing you to be the taste tester. Ideally you’d have wanted a father just as openly doting as your mother but this was fine. He took care of you in silence, behind the scenes, washing your wetsuit or suddenly not being hungry when only one portion of lobster was left. If you refused and told him to eat it he would leave the table and sit in his chair overlooking the ocean, forcing you to eat the last piece or it would go bad.

Placing all your belongings into a draw bag you pecked your mom on the cheek and your dad on the forehead before making your way to the bus stop. Your parents had insisted you use their car but your lack of driver’s license would make that impossible.

.........

You, Hoseok and Namjoon were the only ones at work. What irked you more was the lack of work you were getting. The tenseness in the air was palpable as you munched on the snacks you found in the fridge. Namjoon looked too sick to eat picking at his food ever so often. Hoseok was trying to sleep which remain unsuccessful. The lunchroom door opening startled all of you to varying degrees. Seeing your boss march through the door you pulled your hand from the fridge taking a cup of coconut pudding with you. Namjoon was alert while Hoseok sluggishly sat up, fatigue settling in his bones.

“You’re eating more food?” You bossed cocked an eyebrow in your direction. The question sounded normal; as eating before doing your job, which mostly involved swimming wasn’t the best idea. But you understood what he was insinuating, he ‘teased’ you alot. You shoved another spoon of pudding into your mouth to avoid confrontation. Seeing he wasn’t going to get a reaction, he cleared his throat deciding to talk about the matter at hand.

He placed a flyer on the table. One you had been seeing for a while now, on every surface they could fit.

A photoshopped picture of a mermaid sat at the forefront. Around the image were words saying this was the newest attraction for the aquarium. The aquarium wasn’t running low on funds so you didn’t know the need for a stunt like this. It didn’t matter to you, the more the merrier. You could ask them how they managed to hold their breaths so long or swim so gracefully.

“You and you” He pointed to both men in the room. “I need you to train them.”

“You” He pointed to me, seemingly taking in my current condition of being unable to swim he thought carefully about the task. “Reward them if they deserve it; punish them if they deserve it.

The already quiet room fell into a deafening silence.

“They’re arriving in a week or so, so be prepared.” He pulled his phone from his coat pocket, dialing someone before making his exit. Leaving all of you to rationalize what he had said, because mermaids were only mythological.

They didn’t exist.