#oh and by the way i might not be able to come back home if there's the slightest delay

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Birds of a Feather

Pairing: childhood best friend!soap x f!reader

Warnings: bullying, nothing else

Words: 2k

Synopsis: Having moved to a new home, you meet your best friend in kindergarten...

Cbf!soap masterlist (rewrite)

Your life sucked right now. 

It started months ago when your mother told you that you would have to leave your house behind. You didn’t like it, especially when you had to pack away all of your things and say goodbye to your friend, and when you tried to have your parents explain why you just couldn’t understand why you had to leave everything behind for something like a job.

You didn’t want to leave your only friend behind, you didn’t want to go to a new school. 

It wasn’t fair.

You didn’t know how it was going to be, how the other kids your age would act or accept you. If they were like your old classmates you weren’t sure if you’d be able to make friends with any of them, you were worried they wouldn’t want to play with you and you’d just be alone.

It was your first day and you felt nauseous. 

You wanted to beg your mom to let you stay home because you were sure you’d throw up. You didn't want that to happen and you hoped that maybe if you told her that she’d let you stay home for the day. 

You tried to but before you could even start your sentence, your mom gave you a look and that was the end of it. There was only one thing you could do to make yourself feel better, so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

You held your stuffie, a cute brown bunny with floppy ears and beady black eyes, on your way out the door of your new house. It was your prized possession that you slept with every night since you could remember that never left your side. 

“Are you sure you want to bring your bunny with you, sweetheart?” Your mom asked you when she noticed you carrying it. “It might get lost.”

“I don’t want to go without it!” You pleaded.

She didn’t say anything else as she helped you into the car. You practically choked your stuffie on the drive to your new elementary school and crushed your mother’s hand when she walked you inside. 

It was much smaller than your old school and no other kids were roaming in the halls but that didn’t stop the anxiety you felt as you stared at the doors that led into many classrooms.

The principal greeted you both and you found it hard not to hide behind your mother’s legs when she offered to take your hand.

“Oh, no need to be shy!” She gave you a big smile. “Be a brave lass, you’ll be fine.”

You looked from your mom to the principal. You didn’t move, even as she gave you an expectant look. Your feet felt like they were full of lead and the idea of moving forward made you feel like crying. 

Your mother gently pushed you and you had no choice but to take the principal's hand. You barely got to say goodbye before you were being led down the hallways towards your new classroom.

You clutched your bunny tightly and the principal smiled.

“We don’t usually allow students to keep their personal items with them but I’ll make an exception for today.” She explained and you hesitantly nodded. 

The door to the classroom got closer and closer. You gripped the principal’s hand tightly as it really set in that you were going to have to make new friends and that you were going to be the new kid.

The principal opened the door to the classroom and suddenly all eyes were on you. 

You squeezed her hand as you stood in the front of the classroom. The silence from your classmates made the staring worse and you hugged your bunny close to you as you stared back like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Everyone, this is our new student I told you about.” The principal announced with a smile. “She came a long way to come here, so let’s make her feel welcome.”

She let go of your hand with a reassuring pat before she left the classroom. 

The teacher walked up to you with a similar smile and introduced you. All the while your eyes scanned the many new faces that stared at you with a sort of curiosity that animals faced inside a zoo.

A particular boy in the back, you noticed, leaned across the table and stood on his chair to see you over the heads of his classmates. You watched him strain to see you and you instinctively moved to hide behind the teacher’s legs.

“I’ll seat you next to John for now,” the teacher said. “We’re finishing up an activity and then we’ll go outside.”

The stares didn’t stop as she led you to the back of the class towards the boy who had been standing on his chair. Slowly, however, as she took your bag and set you down next to the boy they went back to whatever they were doing while still sparing a couple glances in your direction.

You sat awkwardly in your chair and hugged your bunny close.

“What’s that?” John asked and you glanced at him to see he was pointing towards your stuffie.

“My bunny.” You held it closer to your chest as he looked at it closer.

“Why do you have it?”

“It makes me feel safe.”

John titled his head curiously before he locked eyes with you. His eyes were a bright blue that you had never seen before which made you stare at him with uncertainty before he grinned.

“I’m Johnny.”

You introduced yourself as well and then suddenly it seemed like he spoke a mile a minute. You had trouble understanding a few of the things he spoke about because of his accent but you began to feel less on edge the more you listened to him. 

Before long, the teacher was calling for everyone to go outside and you followed close behind Johnny as he continued to talk about anything and everything. 

You couldn’t help but feel close to him. He didn’t act like you were some alien and he was happy to invite you to play with him during recess.

However, when you reached the blacktop, someone tugged on your shirt and you turned around to see a group of girls. 

“Hi, I’m Holly.” 

You introduced yourself and watched as the other girls looked at you with that strange curiosity everyone seemed to have behind Holly. She herself stared at you with a gleam in her eye as she smiled.

“Do you want to play with us?” Holly wondered and that was when you noticed that they had dolls with them.

You looked to where the other kids had gone and searched for Johnny. However, he had disappeared and you weren’t sure where to find him.

Besides, in your mind you thought it wouldn’t hurt to make more friends, especially with how friendly Johnny had been.

“Sure!”

You’re not really sure what happened next. One moment you were following Holly and her friends around, playing with your bunny and their dolls, the next you found that she had taken your bunny from you.

You kneeled in the grass and fidgeted with your fingers as you watched them turn away from you. You looked at all of them nervously as they played with your bunny in their game, making it the bad guy which formed a pit in your stomach.

“Can I have my bunny back?” You asked but they seemingly ignored you. “I don’t like this game…”

When they didn’t say anything you frowned and poked Holy on the shoulder.

Holly glanced back at you with a quizzical look with a hint of annoyance that made you nervously play with your hands.

“Can I have my bunny back?” You repeated and she shared a look with her friends.

“We’re not done playing.” 

“But it’s mine.”

Holly stood up and her friends stood up with your bunny in her arms. They began to walk away from you and you quickly went to grab your stuffie from her before she moved it out of the way with a glare.

“You can have it back when we’re done.”

You watched as they moved further away from you in shock. You balled your fists and felt a rush of anxiety and anger through you as you stomped your foot.

“I’m telling the teacher!” You exclaimed and they stopped.

“If you tell the teacher, then you’re a tattle-tale.” Holly spat. “And no one likes a tattle-tale, no one will be your friend.”

Your eyes widened and she led her friends away from you.

You stood there unsure of what to do as it felt like the world crashed around you. You didn’t want to tell the teacher because you wanted your classmates to like you but you couldn't be without your bunny, not when it was the only reason you were able to even make it to school today.

It was the only thing that helped you sleep and the only thing that consistently brought you comfort.

What if she didn’t give it back? What if you’d never see it again?

You didn’t know what to do, so you began to cry.

Tears rolled down your cheeks and down to your chin before they began to stain your shirt. You held onto the hem as you shook, quiet sobs leaving you as you struggled to breathe. You weren’t sure if you’d ever stop crying, even when recess was over, which only made you cry more.

That was when you felt something tap your foot and you noticed a small ball that Johnny was chasing. 

He had a smile on his face as he came up to you before it slowly faded away when he saw that you were crying. He titled his head and came up close to you before he placed a hand on your upper back.

“Why are you crying?”

“I don’t want to be a tattle-tale.” 

He looked at you with confusion before he shrugged.

“I won’t tell.” 

You looked at him with suspicion and blinked a few tears away to see his face. However, all you saw was sincerity as he waited for you to say something and suddenly you knew that you could trust Johnny with anything.

“They took my bunny and won’t give it back.” You pointed at Holly and her friends as more tears began to fall.

Johnny followed your finger and when his eyes landed on them his face went serious. He stared at them for just a moment before he scowled and grabbed your wrist with a firm hold.

Your eyes widened as he marched forward with you in tow. You didn’t try to pull away from him however as he brought you up to the girl and let go of you before he went up to Holly.

“Johnny, play with us!” She smiled before he yanked the bunny out of her hands.

“Ye dinnae take things that aren’t yours, ya daft cow!” 

You gasped, as did the other girls, before Johnny turned around to you with a toothy grin as he held your bunny like a prize he had won. You stared at him as he held it out for you to take with a twinkle in his eyes while Holly began to wail behind him.

“Thank you…” You sniffled as you took it back and hugged it close to you. You couldn’t help the warmth that spread across your face as you stared at him with awe.

“You’re welcome! Me mam told me to always help others-”

“John MacTavish, I can’t believe what I am seeing!”

You and him jumped from the loud yelling that came from the teacher. Immediately all eyes went on her as she raced up to Johnny whose face went beet red.

You’re not really sure what happened after the teacher dragged him away to the principal's office, asking another teacher to bring you, Holly, and her friends along too, but you didn’t really care.

All you knew was that Johnny was going to be your friend for a very long time. 

part 2

A/n: meant to get this out earlier. hopefully will be able to get more of it rewritten. Also! lmk if you want to be put on the taglist for this

[dark-konohagakure2]

imagine succubus!reader lurking in the phantomhive manor to find a victim for the night cause a succubus gets their energy if they take control but ends up getting caught and noncon-ed by sebastian until she cant take it anymore and begs to stop

UGHHH I HAVE BEEN STUCK WITH THIS IDEA SINCE THE DAY I IMAGINED IT 😭😭 petition for more succubus!reader fics 😔

tw: noncon, succubus!reader, size difference, tail pulling, rough sex, overstimulation, humiliation, creampie

All characters depicted are 18+

Sebastian takes his duties as the butler of the Phantomhive household very seriously, so seriously in fact that he doesn't ever sleep, mainly because demons don't need to sleep, but the fact still remains that there is no butler more diligent than Sebastian. His keen senses are able to pick up on the smallest of noises, even the faintest creak of the floorboards won't escape his notice. If a pin dropping doesn't go unnoticed by Sebastian, then there is no way in hell that he won't notice the presence of another hellish entity in his midst.

He is equal parts intrigued and concerned. Sebastian knows he can effortlessly dispatch any threat towards his master, bit even so the thought of another demon being after him is quite concerning. Never one to waste his time dwelling on any worries he might have, Sebastian will quickly do his part as a butler by apprehending the uninvited guest.

It's comically easy for Sebastian, he's not called a devil of a butler for nothing, he's able to use his superior strength to yank the little demon over to him when she's unaware, grabbing her by the pointy tail, which makes her hiss out in pain like a cat. Sebastian likes cats, even the ones with claws, but he sadly can't pet her, not when she's been such a bad girl as to even attempt to endanger his master.

Sebastian knows precisely how to deal with a naughty little succubus like herself, her kind feed off the sexual energy and desires of men, so he'll give her exactly what every succubus wants, he'll give it to her until she's begging him to stop. It's a fitting punishment for the demonic intruder, and it finally gives Sebastian the opportunity to stop feigning his humanity, even if just for a short while.

"Naughty thing, did you truly believe you could intrude oh my master's property without consequence? Oh how adorable~ I'll be sure to give you something to remember before sending you back to our home~"

His eyes are glowing unabashedly now, the glowing red orbs now having a feral intensity to them as he starts teasing the lesser demon, yanking on her tail roughly as he exposes her holes to his hellish gaze, teasing her sensitive pussy lips mercilessly before he decides to have his fill of her. Sebastian hasn't had a good fuck in a while, and certainly never with another demon that was aware of his true nature, so he's going to savor this rare treat.

Being centuries old, Sebastian is well versed in the art of making somebody come undone around his cock, whether they want to or not. His hips will slam against her from behind, his balls slapping against his ass while he fucks her raw, pulling on her tail like a bully pulling on the braids of a girl he likes. Sebastian's cock is long and thick, even in his human form, so it'll ram against her oversensitive womb with every thrust, forcing her into one mind breaking orgasm after the other.

Demons typically can't reproduce with one another, so Sebastian can cum inside of her to his heart's content without a care in the world, and he won't be satisfied with cumming inside of her just once, he's going to breed her until she's begging him to stop, and for hours after that too. It won't take long for her to go from confident and rude to whining and pleading with him to show mercy, but nothing will come of those pleas aside from her receiving even more mockery and even more loads shot into her already overstuffed womb.

He finds her reactions and pleading to be both adorable and pitiful, not to mention ironic; a creature who feeds off of sex now begging him to stop fucking her, her impish pussy overflowing with cum and weakly gripping his cock, fucked loose from the brutal pounding she's getting. He definitely won't be stopping anymore despite her pleas, after all, lesser demons make lovely fucktoys.

"Oh my~ begging already, little one? How sad, your kind usually loves getting ravished so, you truly are a disgrace from all demonkind~! How cute~!"

But alas, he can't keep this adorable little kitten as a house pet as much as he wants to, his young master would never allow such a thing, but Sebastian takes pride in the fact that he successfully subdued another interloper, and she won't mess with him again, that is unless she wants her holes destroyed again.

[written-in-flowers]

Losing Humanity: OT8 X Male!Reader Pt. 3

Pairing: Vampire!Hyunjin x Male!Reader (end game) | Side pairings: OT8 x Male!reader, Vampire!Felix x Lycan!Chan, Vampire!Minho x Lycan!Han

Genre: Angst, smut, horror | Au: Resident Evil: Village, vampires, werewolves/lycans, hybrids.

Word Count: 6k

Summary: Following a dreadful experiment, YN has to wrestle with his new body and abilities. With the help of the four lords and their sons, he might be able to find the family and purpose he'd been looking for.

Overall Tags: strangers to lovers, exes to lovers, secret romances, feuding families, omegaverse, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, graphic depictions of violence, blood and violence, mad science experiments, eventual smut, male reader fic, graphic depictions of human to monster transformations, horror, suspense. anal sex, anal fingering, loss of virginity, virgin!reader, threesome -/m/m/m, group sex, rimming, blowjobs, rough blowjobs, water sex, outdoor sex, harem but one end game, happy ending, tentacle sex, hallucinations, psychological horror

Disclaimer: These works are completely fictitious and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect or label the members of Stray Kids in any way. The events within never took place. Thank you.

Previous < | > Next

****

The day turned into night. The cold might have pierced your skin once, but it did nothing to you now. You stayed huddled underneath a tree, arms around your knees and you wept for hours. You only moved when you started hearing soft footsteps coming from the distance. A part of you considered letting the predator just take you. Why should you fight them? It wasn’t as if you had a home anymore. The warm memories of your parents turned as icy and hard as the snow underneath you. You questioned their love for you over and over underneath the still moon. If they’d loved you, they never would’ve sold you off. If they’d loved you, they’d sacrifice themselves rather than you. But, whatever stalked you eventually disappeared and left you in the lonely woods. 

You crossed through dense bushes before the smell of cooking meat caught your attention. The savory scent made your stomach growl, and you moved towards it. In between the shrubbery, you saw flickers of light and the crackling of a fire. Every sense suddenly amplified. You heard soft, cheerful humming. You smelled the saucy rabbit stew in a large pot above a smoking fire; wisps of human sweat and blood mingled with the fragrance and you drooled. Hunger brought you to the edge of the clearing, where you saw a horse and cart tethered to a tree. Propped up in the back was an immensely large man. The jacket and vest he wore strained against his belly, and you hardly saw a neck. You recognized the man immediately. The Duke, as people called him, was a regular visitor of the village. 

“Ah, Master YN,” the man beamed happily when he saw you. He kept his fire close to him, sprinkling herbs into the pot. You wondered briefly how he’d grab it. “What brings you out here ton-Oh my,” his smile faltered when he saw your half-torn, blood-stained clothes and hands, “My dear boy, what happened to you?”

“A few things,” you replied, eyeing the steaming pot. You licked your lips seeing the brown gravy hanging off the wood spoon above it. 

“Must have been quite heavy things,” he said. “I have a coat you may wear. It’ll keep you warm in this biting cold.”

“No, thank you, sir. I don’t feel very cold.” 

When you stepped into the light, The Duke gasped softly. He glanced at the rest of you, then said, “It appears Master Felix succeeded in his endeavor after all. Have they already let you loose upon the Huntsman?”

“Huntsman? No. I left.”

“What for?”

“My family.”

“The same family who sold you to me?” He sounded confused by this. 

“Yes.” 

He saw your crestfallen face, and said, “Well, if you will not have my coat, then take some of my wine. It is a fine vintage from House Dimitrescu. You might enjoy it much more than this stew.”

He pulled out a decorative bottle from the holder hanging from the door. Grabbing a wine glass, he poured and handed it to you. You gulped when the sweet scent of blood hit your nose. Timidly, you moved closer. The fire bathed you in warmth as you took up the glass. The mixture of scents in the air made you nearly dizzy. You took a sniff of the glass, grabbing hints of bold grapes and virgin blood-

Virgin blood? 

“What is this?”

“Your new family’s speciality,” he answered. “Sanguis Virginis. Maiden’s Blood. It’s very…full-bodied.” 

You did not want to think about the meaning. Instead, you took one sip and let out a soft groan. It tasted better than any stew or cooked rabbit. You gulped down the rest of the drink, feeling life slipping back into you. 

“Have a seat, young master,” The Duke insisted, “Warm yourself with wine and fire.” When you sat on a stool near him, he said, “So, what possessed you to leave your new family and seek out the old?”

You contemplated this for a moment, then said, “I wanted to go home. I woke up in this unfamiliar place alone and only thought of going back to my family.. I’d hoped they’d want me back. I thought maybe they did not know what would happen to me. I…I know it sounds ridiculous now.”

“There is nothing wrong with having hope,” he assured you, stirring the stew before leaning to taste some. Nodding, he grabbed a bowl from nearby and began ladeling the stew, “If it eases you, they did not know exactly what might happen to you. I will admit I do withhold some facts when making these kinds of deals. I simply told them you’d be put to good use in Castle Dimitrescu, and they put the pieces together themselves.” 

“They still traded me,” you grumbled before taking another drink of wine. 

“Out of necessity,” he said, scooping up stew and hungrily eating it. “Your father told me your mother was incredibly ill with consumption. He claimed she was on death’s door.” 

“She was. She appears fine now.” 

“With the right amount of treatment and medication, it seems so,” he confirmed. “Aside from illness, starvation and poverty in general can make the strongest man desperate.”

“Are you telling me this was okay because they were desperate?”

“Not at all. I find the act despicable, but that is the only explanation I can give you,” he said. 

“You don’t find it despicable enough to not broker the deals though,” you remarked.

“I am a businessman first and foremost, Master YN,” he said. He ate more stew, gravy dripping down his chin before he mopped it up with a handkerchief. “Master Felix came to me with a deal: if I supply him with villagers, he’d pay me handsomely for them. I did not inquire about his intentions, since I have a similar deal with his mother, but it became clear when the first experiment failed.” 

“What happened?”

“The subject turned into a hideous, ferocious beast,” he said, “And terrorized the village. The Huntsman managed to overpower the creature and kill it, but had no idea where it’d come from. I knew.” He washed down the stew with a beer bottle. He belched through his napkin, then continued, “I did not advertise the deal due to the morbid nature, but it soon caught on in the nearby village and beyond. I simply made the deal happen. I am only a middle man.”

“A middle man that sold people to monsters.”

“It’s not one of the nicest parts of business, but it was nothing personal, I assure you.” He then said, “It may sound insensitive, Master YN, but you should be grateful you came out like this and not like the monsters or corpses that preceded you. I am no expert in scientific experiments by any means, though I will say you seem to have been a clear success.”

“How grateful I am,” you rolled your eyes. You finished off your second glass, and went for a third. “I’m a monster now.”

“We are all monsters, just different breeds. Some might say your parents are monsters for giving up their only child to save themselves,” he said. “A few dare to say Mother Miranda is a monster herself, even when she protects these lands.”

“She doesn’t do that well of a job if we’re all starving and living in shacks.” 

He ate another spoonful of stew, then said, “But she keeps the monsters at bay. They obey her every word and whim, and fear her above all others. Well, perhaps aside from Master Chan, but that is the power of an alpha lycan, I suppose.”

“Master Chan?” 

“Master Chan Heisenberg,” he answered. “The eldest son of Karl Heiseberg, followed by his brothers Changbin and Jisung, called ‘Han’.” He paused over his bowl, “Did you not know?”

“I know there are other lords, but I didn’t bother with them.”

“Hmpf, you should bother with them now before they bother you,” he warned. He hesitated, “The Heisenberg pack lives in an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the land. Heisenberg created them from three boys he’d found in the village. Your new mother believes he stole her idea, but I think the man simply felt lonely working in his factory. The boys help him, from what I understand, yet there are whispers Master Chan has been doing some solo projects.” 

“Any warnings I should heed?”

“Approach with caution,” he said. “The Heisenbergs do not have the restraint and refinement of House Dimitrescu.” He chewed a hearty piece of rabbit, washed it down with beer, “Then, deep in the valley lives the doll maker, Donna Beneviento with her son, Master Jeongin. The pair keep to themselves in the dank, old estate by the waterfall, but those who go there have never come back.”

“Jeongin?”

“Rumor was he was the son of the family’s gardener. He’d been very ill several years ago, and Lady Beneviento took pity on him. The treatment…well, let us say it left the boy speechless.” He gulped the rest of his beer, “In the reservoir up north is Salvatore Moreau, a being of twisted flesh and his son, Seungmin, who is his pride and joy. The beauty and the beast rule over those dangerous waters.” He then said, “I am sure you will meet the others in time. Mother Miranda will hear of Master Felix’s experiment soon enough and will likely want to see the result for herself.”

Meeting the real Mother Miranda struck a fear in you that the wine couldn’t drown out. The ruler of the land, she’d been around for as long as you could remember. A goddess of black magic, she’d given the people health, prosperity and safety. You often questioned exactly what your people paid in return for these benefits, but your questions were met with scoldings. Seeing yourself and the tales of this new “family”, you’d gotten your answer. You finished off the bottle of wine when The Duke asked you another question. 

“What shall you do now?”

You paused, thinking it over as you ran your thumb over the intricate floral metal on the bottle. “I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “I don’t wish to go back to the castle, but I cannot go home either.”

“You can drift as the Huntsman does,” he suggested. He then looked up into the trees, “Or perhaps your companions might have some ideas.”

“Companions?”

You glanced up to see dozens of glowing eyes looking down from the dark trees above. Suddenly, you became aware of the shifting in the branches. Their appearance didn’t surprise you. Perhaps in the back of your mind you knew they’d followed you to the clearing. Them and whatever creatures you assumed lurked in the darkness. Standing from your seat, you examined the bats more closely. Full bodies covered in fur, they were a bit larger than the bats you turned into during flight. Those were the size of mice, whereas these were average size.  

“They have been listening for quite some time,” The Duke said. “It appears they are waiting for you.”

Their eyes followed only you. A ripple of unrest went through them, and you felt it in your chest. “Yes,” you said softly, looking at one particular bat nearest you, “Yes, it feels that way.” 

“If I were you, I would visit my creator,” he said, finishing off his stew and getting seconds. “Master Felix is a man of science. He may be able to explain things to you, if you accept your newfound state.” 

“I don’t want to see that bastard,” you grunted, and your distaste showed in the bats above. Walking closer, you sensed a connection growing between yourself and these animals. Both creatures of the night, hungry for blood and the dark places of the world, you sensed yourself merging with them in your heart. “He made me this way. Even if my family sold me, he turned me into this monster.”

“That word once again,” he scoffed. “‘Monster’ is such a broad term.”

“It is the only one that explains what I am,” you said, reaching up to the bat, who did not flinch when you touched its head. 

“You will not know what you truly are until you speak with the one who made you.”

It squeaked a few more times, and you knew it used its echolocation to find you. 

“I’m right here,” you said gently once underneath it. “Don’t worry, little friend. I’m here.” 

It flew towards you, and when you held out your arm it clung itself to your chest as a baby would a mother.  You stroked its head while you walked, finding a sense of purpose with your new friend.

“Clearly, a close connection with nightly creatures is one of them,” Duke continued. “That owl has been staring too.”

You turned to a separate tree where a brown and white barn owl sat watching, as Duke said. “It may be that Master Felix required a person who blends in with darkness and can speak to other nocturnal beasts. The best place to start is at the castle.”

“Don't want to lose your contract with them, eh?” you asked, noting his insistence you return to the castle. 

“That and that her newest son's prolonged absence may inspire Lady Dimitrescu to send her minions into the village. They may not be lycans, but they are just as deadly.”

“Minions?” 

“The Moroacia and Samca, the failed experiments of Master Felix or his mother's victims. They are bloodthirsty, mindless creatures that will invade in droves, killing anyone within reach.” He shuddered, “Terrifying things. I suggest to save the innocent souls down below, you return to your new home.” 

“It isn’t my home.”

“I’m afraid it is,” he said. “Where else will you go?” 

You looked down at the bat in his arms. It likely lives in a cave with its colony. A cave could be a good form of shelter, and with the bats overhead, you wouldn’t be alone. The group then shuddered and shook as if sensing your need for flight. It took one to fly off before the rest of them began following them. 

“Wherever they’re going,” you said, nodding up to the bats. “Thank you for the wine, Duke, but I think I should get going. The night is still young, and I have to get moving.”

“I pray you find shelter tonight,” he replied with a nod, eating more stew. “I’d caution against the beasts of the night, but I imagine it is you the beasts should fear.” 

You weren’t so sure about that. Even when you fought off that lycan, which still surprised you, you didn’t know the extent of your abilities. You almost did not want to know. The more you knew, the more beastly you felt. Walking from the clearing, you held onto the bat against your chest. You stared up between the trees, seeing the rest of the colony not too far ahead. You couldn’t properly follow them from the ground, so you released your walking companion and bent your knees. In a spring upwards, you twirled into a flight form. You soared over the canopy of trees, the nighttime breeze blowing through as you flew. You stayed behind the group as they led you back to a familiar place. 

Castle Dimitrescu. 

Apprehensive, you slowed down as you saw the tall turrets and towers. Duke’s advice came back to you. Going back will give you answers, but going back also cemented the truth: you’d become something far worse than any human alive. You still went towards the castle, your friends making a turn and aiming at the lower areas. Through a tight hole in one wall, you escaped the freezing cold for the dark, damp heat underneath. Even in complete darkness, you saw everything. The unlit torches, the empty barrels, the cell doors and the torture devices around the dark dungeon came to you crystal clear. 

The flock finally stopped in the middle of the labyrinth, starting to hang upside down from the stone ceiling. Yes, being underneath a place of blood and death did not sound ideal, but where else could you go? Finding an abandoned cell with a wooden bench, you discovered a strange kind of peace amongst the bats. They did not show scorn or distaste for you. They wouldn’t trade you for food. In fact, you’d never felt more at peace with any living being. Laying on the long bench, exhaustion finally came over you. As the comforting presence lulled you to sleep, you wondered if your parents regretted their decision and perhaps want you back. 

No, they wouldn’t. 

****

Hunger. Unimaginable hunger. It hollowed out your stomach and left your throat dry. The only thing keeping you shuffling through was the smell. Blood. Sickly sweet and fresh came in a gust of wind through the castle dungeons. Days had passed since you tasted the blood in Duke’s wine, and your hunger had returned in full force. It became your every waking thought as you stumbled through the catacombs. The scent grew thicker the closer it came, almost enough that inhaling it brought it to your tongue. 

“Hun…Hungry…” the word escaped your lips in a hoarse voice. 

You came upon the body in one of the northern parts of the dungeon. Several bodies hung from the ceiling, their limbs slashed to drain the blood from them into large vats. You’d managed to feed off the leftovers the Lady and her sons discarded. Yet, they didn’t yield much blood so the rats became a second option. After drinking the blood of the dead and animals, fresh vats seemed like an oasis. Seeing the dark red liquid sitting alone in a large bucket, you could not resist. You cupped your hands in the thick substance, and took greedy gulps. A low groan escaped you after that first drink, the warmth breaking through the cold stiffness in your body, and you drank more of it. You should feel disgusted, but your hunger won out. 

“I knew you were down here.” 

You smelled him before you even looked up. You didn’t know which one, but the faint scent of pomegranates came from somewhere nearby. His voice bounced off the walls, and you whipped around. Hyunjin appeared out of his blowfly colony, walking over to you with a smug grin. 

“I told Mother I heard something scurrying around the dungeons,” he said. “It’s you that’s been feeding off our scraps.” He looked up into the rafters to see your colony, “And you’re the reason the bats are still around.” He looked over your disheveled appearance. Your matted hair, blood stained wearing ragged clothing, you were not a pretty sight. In wanting to escape the truth, you only brought it to life more. “You poor thing,” he frowned, cautiously approaching you, “You went home, didn’t you?”

His voice was a tender caress this time, meant to soothe instead of seduce. You couldn’t answer. His footsteps came closer, and you flinched when you felt a hand touch your shoulder.

“We tried to warn you,” he said, “But I suppose it was best you saw it for yourself. You must be in so much pain.”

He lifted your face to meet his, and you saw the beauty before you. Unlike when you first arrived, he showed no eagerness to hurt you. 

“I don’t remember anything about my life before Mother,” he told you, “But I sometimes imagine I ended up here the same way as you. I’m sorry your family did this to you.” He wiped your face with an embroidered handkerchief, “You’re better off with us than with them. Mother would make sure you were well fed and cared for. Even if she’s upset with Felix for creating you, you are one of us now and that makes her your mother too.”

“She’s not my mother,” you said through gritted teeth.

“She is now,” he said, wiping blood from your mouth and cheeks. “What mother would sacrifice her child to save herself? A real mother would have given up her life rather than let her child suffer. Mother isn’t like that. She’d kill anyone who tried to harm you.” He then said, “Felix, Minho and I would not let anything happen to you either. You’re our brother now, and we stick together.”

“You are not my family,” you said through a hoarse throat. “They are my family,” you nodded to the bats above. 

“Can they feed you properly? Give you a warm bath and fresh blood to drink? This place, as lovely as it is for storage, is not fit for a son of Lady Dimitrescu.”  

“I’m not her son.”

“Come with me,” he said, standing and offering his hand. “Please? At least to let Mother and Felix know you are alright. They have been sick with worry over you. They think The Huntsman got you. Can you at least do that?” He batted his lashes and pouted his full lips. “There’s more food in it for you, if you do. Then you can come back down here and be with your ‘family’ if you want to.”

You considered the pros and cons of returning to the surface. Yet, staring into Hyunjin’s eyes, you didn’t see any deceit. He gently caressed your cheek as he examined your face. You looked over his full pouty lips, still stained by his blood consumption. The mole just underneath his eye made him seem more human somehow. You touched his cheek to feel his warmth on your cold fingers. His skin, supple and smooth, remained unblemished by time or age. 

“Is my beauty enough to entice you?” he smirked, watching you examine him. 

You didn’t answer. Your thumb went down his cheek to his bottom lip, grazing just underneath it on his chin. Hyunjin leaned closer to you, and you smelled the blood on his breath. 

“Going upstairs offers much, much more than what this dungeon can,” he said, voice low between you. “I promise my bed is warmer and softer.”

“The Duke said your mother would kill the villagers if I didn’t come back,” you told him. “Is that true?”

“Partly,” he replied, tucking hair behind your ear. “My brothers and I managed to convince her otherwise, but her restraint only lasts so long. Those villagers…they might rather burn you than embrace you, yet that doesn’t justify such a grizzly end. Come upstairs with me,” he gently nuzzled your nose, “And let her see that there’s no need for rash actions.” 

Even if they’d rather kill you than accept you, thinking about your neighbors and friends suffering such cruel fates was enough. “Alright, I’ll go.” 

“Good,” he said, letting your thumb slide between his lips for a brief moment. He gave it a soft suckle before letting go. “A nice castle and servants aren’t the only benefits to being in our family, I promise you.” 

You followed Hyunjin through the dungeons, the both of you taking your separate forms to fly through the castle. While he moved into millions of tiny pieces, yours took up a bit more space. Your body still shivered remembering Hyunjin’s soft lips around your thumb. He was by far the most beautiful being you’d ever seen, perhaps more so than his brothers. The trickle of his pomegranate essence made you hungry for something aside from blood. The sort of hunger you felt when you kissed Elijah behind his family’s barn or when Stephan stole a kiss outside the church. You never went the entire way those times, but you still remember the tightness forming in your stomach and how your body yearned for their touch. 

There might be one benefit to being a monster. 

He led you through the opulent, elegant halls of the castle into a lounge area in front of a fireplace. In the room, you saw Felix reading against his mother’s side on a couch, while Minho sat nearby idly playing a harp. The three of them turned as Hyunjin and you came back into the room. Felix stood up before his mother did, putting the book down and coming over to you. 

“YN, where have you been?” he asked, scanning over your face. “I’ve been looking for you for days. Where did you go? What happened to you?” You snarled when he tried touching you. He didn’t appear very surprised, stepping a foot away. “Where have you been?”

“He’s been in the dungeons,” Hyunjin said. “I told you something was down there.” 

“It’s you that’s been taking the leftovers?” Felix asked you, but you did not answer. 

“But, sweet boy,” Lady Dimitrescu stood up from her seat, “You could’ve had your fill here. I wouldn’t have denied you fresh prey,” she came over to you in long strides. Unlike Felix, she did not cower away when you snapped your teeth at her. “Here,” she poured wine from a decorative bottle into a spare wine glass. You recognized it as the same bottle The Duke offered. “Drink this. You must be starving after feeding off scraps.” 

You tentatively sipped from the glass, then downed the drink in several gulps. You licked up what spilled from the sides of your mouth, then started licking the inside of the glass. You never tasted anything so delicious before. It reminded you of those hollow days back home when food was so scarce. Nothing ever made your belly feel full. When your father managed to find food in the woods, you remembered devouring it as if it might be your last meal. 

“Proper table manners seem to go out the window when you’re starving,” Minho commented, plucking at one of the strings. 

“Do not be so harsh so soon, Minho,” Lady Dimitrescu said to him. “Your new brother has been through a serious change. It must’ve been difficult managing it alone,” she bent down to you, cupping your cheek. She felt warm, and smelled of roses. “I will admit I am intrigued. Felix’s experiments normally turn into lycans or die in the first few minutes, but you held out. The fact you can remember your previous life is also remarkable.”

You wished you’d woken without memory. Then it wouldn’t hurt so much. 

“But then again, memory can be a burden,” she said, sensing your sadness. “Here,” she brought you over to the sofa where she poured you more wine. “Drink your fill. Rats and corpses aren’t fit for any son of mine.” 

You drank your second glass as quickly, not bothered by the sick feeling growing from drinking so fast. About to wipe your mouth with your sleeve, Lady Dimitrescu offered you her handkerchief instead. You cleaned your face with it, smelling more roses as you wiped off the excess. She appeared nothing like what you’d been told your whole life. The other villagers spoke of her ruthlessness; that anyone who made the trek up her castle never returned. You’d learned that was true, yet it did not scare you. She did not look at you with malice in her eyes, but instead tenderness. She repeatedly filled your cup when it emptied. She cleaned your mouth and the dirt from your face. It did not seem to bother her as you thought it might. 

“Alright, you’ve seen I’m safe,” you said, finally full, “May I go back now?”

“You wish to go back to that damp place?” she asked in surprise. “It’s filthy down there, and those bats-”

“-Are my family,” you told her. “They don’t cast out their own kind. They don’t point guns at them and tell them to leave. They saw me as I was and didn’t call me a monster or a beast.” Anger elevated your voice, pain coming up through your throat like bile. 

“Well, they’re bats, so I imagine they can’t talk to begin with,” said Minho, only to be smacked lightly by Felix. 

“I know how childish it sounds,” you snapped at him, “But I’d rather be in the dark with them than in the light with people who’ve used me.” You glared at Felix, “I remember everything you did to me. I remember you cutting me open like a dead fish and sticking that thing inside me. I can still feel it wriggling,” you closed your eyes to the sickening feeling in your stomach. “You’re the reason I don’t have a family anymore,” you said. 

“No, your family is the reason you don’t have a family. I simply took advantage of their situation,” he said simply. 

“Felix…”

“If what the Duke says is correct,” he said, ignoring his mother, “It hardly took any convincing at all. All he said was there’d be money and food in it for them, and they jumped at the chance. What kind of parents do that to their child? Surely, this is a question you’ve asked yourself multiple times since then, no?” 

You didn’t know how to answer. He seized a chance at your hesitancy, “You may continue thinking you are some sort of ferocious monster, but you cannot deny it. I’ve made you far better and greater than any being outside these walls. You’re fast. You’re strong. You’re deadly. Those pathetic weaklings in the villages will be terrified when they see you coming. The lycans themselves will run in terror at the sight of you,” he stepped closer. “I have given you a gift, YN. Do not waste it wallowing in self-pity in our dungeons with the bats and rats and corpses.” 

“I do not want to scare anyone,” you said. “I did not ask for your ‘gift’. It’s made me a monster.”

“You’re only a monster if you continue to act like one,” he replied sharply. “Please, YN,” he came over to where you sat, sincerity in his eyes, “Do not go. Not yet. We need you and you need us. Mother,” he glanced at the Lady, “Tell him. Tell him he doesn’t have to go anywhere. He’s safer here than anywhere else. You will be the mother he could only dream of.” 

Lady Alcina did not answer at first. She examined her eldest son quickly, seeing the desperation he masked so well. Stroking your hair, she looked down at you. 

“You went to the village,” she said when she saw your sad eyes. 

“I did.”

“And?”

The stinging sensation in your nose returned. You tried sniffling and wriggling it out, but it brought with it more tears. You’d spent weeks in the dungeons reliving the moment over and over again. Your father had pointed his gun at you. He actually threatened to shoot you. You saw their cold faces once more, swimming to the forefront of your mind to haunt you. To them, you’d become a deranged animal that needed to be put down rather than embraced. Seeing your dirty hands and clothes, you might actually be that animal. You smoothed back hair from your face as you fought off tears. You wanted to go home, but where was home now? 

“Oh, sweet boy,” she cooed. She then lifted you from the sofa like a mother would with a baby, cuddling you to her chest and stroking your hair. “It is for the best in the end,” she said, holding you close. “Those village fools fear what they do not understand. They allow their ignorance to cloud their judgment. They would never have accepted you, but that won’t happen here.”

“You’re our brother now,” Hyunjin said, sitting on the arm rest. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I certainly won’t,” said Felix. “I went through too much trouble creating you. I won’t let you be destroyed so easily.”

“It’s my job to protect the members of this family,” Minho told you, “And that includes you.” 

“You don’t need your bat friends when you have us,” Hyunjin came closer to meet your eyes. “We will take care of you. I’ll take care of you.” 

You looked into his eyes once more, and fresh tears came. 

“I think a nice bath and a good long sleep is in order, hm?” Lady Alcina asked you, and you didn't refuse. 

She brought you further into the castle with Hyunjin behind her. In a room of marble stone, the Lady gently removed the rags you wore while Hyunjin prepared the bath. You did not see the point in shyness, so you let her peel the sticky, smelly layers piece by piece. Neither of them spoke as she lowered you into the warm tub. Lady Alcina did not leave your side the entire time, taking it upon herself to bathe you. It’d been too long since you felt such gentleness. 

“If you still wish to go back down there when you wake,” she said, carrying you into a bedroom after washing and drying you, “You can go.” 

“Really?”

“If it makes you more comfortable here, then I will not protest. Unlike that simpering wench of a mother, I wish for you to be happy.” 

She laid you down on a soft bed like a newborn, pushing hair from your face and caressing your cheek. The exhaustion finally started coming over you in the comfort of this new bed. It certainly beats the old cot back at home and your dungeon bench. Your eyes started falling shut as you savored her fingers gently scratching behind your ear and scalp. It had been something your old mother might have done once, but not anymore. 

Alcina Dimitrescu didn’t care about your pointed ears or claws. 

****

“Magnificent…Absolutely magnificent. You say he tore the beast apart?”

“Yes,” Hyunjin answered in a whisper. “He lifted him in the air while still in his bat swarm form, and tore his head off. It was incredible. I’ve never heard of anyone defeating a lycan before; it usually takes several gunshots for them to go down. Even Heisenberg’s boys have trouble with the particularly feral ones from time to time. We certainly can’t do what he did.” 

Felix told him to follow you, but he would have done it on his own anyways. He didn’t want to lose another brother. He’d flown some distance behind you to avoid detection, then tailed you into the village. He’d sensed the lycan just as easily as you, ready to fight it off, before he saw you take it on by yourself. Hyunjin couldn’t believe his eyes. Lycans, he knew, were nearly indestructible, yet you tore them apart with little effort. Whatever Felix injected into you made you stronger than anyone else. Maybe even stronger than those Heisenbergs. 

“What else did you notice?”

“Well, his parents are cruel, that’s for sure. You should’ve seen it, Felix,” Hyunjin frowned. “He begged them to let him come home, and they turned him away. I heard the whole thing. He would’ve stayed there longer if the villagers hadn’t come back from church.” He pushed hair from your face, his fingers feather-light on your skin. “How could a parent do that to their child? It’s always astounded me. These people sacrifice their children to keep on living. That mother should’ve let her sickness consume her rather than give up her son to an unimaginable fate.” 

“Yes, yes, yes, that’s all very sad,” Felix said dismissively, “What else did you notice about him?”

That you’re a tortured soul who seeks a proper home and family. Hyunjin examined your face. He took in the shape of your eyes and nose; the curve of your lips and your soft cheeks. It was a face only Gods could create. He could spend forever painting you and find each picture more beautiful than the last. He’d been shocked when he found you in the dungeon, dirty and living off scraps. You should be sitting in the conservatory amongst the blooming flowers, or in the music room playing the piano with your lovely fingers. 

“Hyunjin!”

“He’s not that much different from us,” he finally answered, wishing Felix would leave the Frankenstein act for another time. “He picked up on Chan and Changbin before I did.”

“Chan and Changbin were there?”

“Yes, and Jisung too,” he said. He hadn’t told you about the three wolves that had stalked you in the forest. He’d spotted them whilst trying to catch sight of you again from above. “I believe they caught him by chance and didn’t know what or who he was.”

“Wonderful,” Felix scoffed. “Now those damned mongrels know about him. They’ve likely already gone to their scoundrel father and told him. Mother Miranda will know sooner than I would’ve liked.” He took a deep breath. “I have to tell Mother. She’s already upset with me for doing the experiments without Miranda’s permission. Hearing about this will make things worse.” 

“She has every right to be angry at you.” Minho appeared in the doorway, stern and stoic as always. He walked into the bedroom, hands behind his back, and stood beside Felix. “She thinks you’re trying to replace Jimin-”

“-That isn’t what I’m doing-” 

“-I know it isn’t, but she doesn’t,” he cut him off. “Felix, you need to go and explain yourself. If Mother Miranda confronts her about it, she'll need to know what to say. If we're lucky, Miranda will see this as an effort against the Huntsman-”

“-It is an effort against the Huntsman-” Felix argued hotly. 

“-And not punish all of us for your reckless actions.”

“You do recall assisting me, right?” Felix said, fully turning to him. “You held him down; you injected him. You’re equally guilty.” 

“That was because I believed in your vision, and I still do,” he said. “The Huntsman is a greater threat to our family than Mother Miranda realizes, and I’d do anything I could to stop them. But, we cannot kill them if we’re all dead.”

“Miranda wouldn’t kill us or Mother,” Felix argued. “We’ll get a slap on the wrist and be warned to never do it again.”

“Felix, what you’ve done is far more serious and you know that. You stole Cadou parasites from Moreau, who was given those by Miranda herself,” he said. “When she learns you’ve been basically stealing her property, she might not be so lenient. I told you the consequences of these experiments when you started them, and you ignored me every single time. This one is the last one,” he nodded to your sleeping form. “If he dies, that’s the end of it. No more mad-science experiments, got it?” 

Hyunjin watched Felix stare at him defiantly. “No.”

“What do you mean ‘No’?”

“No. I will not stop trying until the Huntsman is dead.”

“There are other ways.”

“Name them.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps if all of us put our pride aside, we can work with the other lords to destroy him. The other houses cannot handle them on their own, but if we do it together-”

“-I can’t believe you’re suggesting that,” Felix huffed. “Us working with those weaklings. It’s prosperous.”

“They are far from weak, and you know that. Tsk all you want, Felix, you know it’s true. You’ve seen what those Heisenbergs can do in and out of their wolf forms. Lord help that Huntsman if they end up near the reservoir when Seungmin is around, and have you forgotten what Jeongin can do with flowers and dolls? If we combine all those skills, we have a fighting chance. Hyunjin,” he turned to him, “Back me up on this. We cannot keep having let down after let down; failure after failure like this.”

Hyunjin did not know how to answer. He thought about his mother’s teary eyes when she stared at Jimin’s crystalized corpse in the music room. She wept for weeks. She still does though she hides it from them. Hyunjin hated thinking Felix tried replacing Jimin so soon after his death. Jimin was their brother, their blood. When he explained his intentions, Hyunjin stood behind him out of hope. Staring down at you, he wondered if you really could kill the Huntsman. He thought about you ending the same way as Jimin, and it made him sad. However, the alternative is to work with the other families. Hyunjin did not care for any of them either way, but his family did so he joined them in their distaste. Yet, he could not deny their strengths.

“It’d be great if we could have both,” he said.

“Yes, but sometimes we cannot have both,” Felix said.

“Maybe this time we can? YN might not be able to do it alone. He’d need help, and if we all join forces-”

“-I said ‘no’!” Felix said through gritted teeth with a foot stomp. “I don’t want anything to do with those damned dogs!”

He turned into his swarm and blew through the doors. Neither Minho or Hyunjin brought up the reason Felix may dislike the idea of an alliance.

Chan Heisenberg. 

****

A/N: So, has YN found a new home or will he drift off again? Sorry this update took so long. Just been having trouble finding inspiration lately. Hope this makes up for that <3

[unnaturalequilibrium]

Capítulo 6

- Mafin rewatch (Sueños de Libertad)

I like that Luis forces Marta to do the very thing Fina tried to get her to do in the job interview, let the perfume rest on her skin before giving it a whiff. Is this meant to be the thing that tipped the scales in Fina’s favour? Or do we think Fina was always going to be Marta’s first choice as new shopgirl? I wonder when Marta started noticing Fina, I mean sure I think once she got into that uniform she was forced to see her in a new light. But I’m still curious to what it was like before that. It’s clear they knew a lot about each other, but to what extent really?

As I’m watching beyond just the Mafin scenes I’m surprised to see how similar Luis and Marta are and the way their stories are structured. They’ve both got that kind of infectious drive only in different fields.  That strong sense of right and wrong too, with an insane work ethic and a desire to make the world a better place I think. It’s also super easy to imagine their siblings running around as kids, climbing a hill, kicking a ball and Luis and Marta being left behind with an antfarm, an abbacus and a lot of curious questions.

Petra put down the fucking shovel, the hole is big enough for the Titanic without you going and insulting Marta too on top of everything. This isn’t Journey to the Center of the Earth, you can stop digging now. Have I mentioned I hate her? Because I do, I really do.

Marta with a notepad or a folder in her hands is another one of those moments when I sort of feel like the Universe might be catering to me, but I don’t mind.

Marta is especially demanding in this episode, ordering Luz and Luis around - telling them to get their little butts into gear and work work. Watching the episodes back to back it now sort of stands out to me how she showed one emotion last episode and now she needs to be super competent at her work to make up for it. In her eyes at least. It actually makes me really curious about how much background the actors get on their characters and about future storylines. Because it does sort of come across as this is Marta throwing herself into her work to make up for that perceived failure of last episode, that whole business of her not being able to make her father proud through her unconventional marriage and the fact that she is childless. And knowing that she never will be able to as her marriage is mostly a cage and at best an inconvenience. Her behaviour in this episode gives a sense of - if she can’t make her father proud of who she is, then maybe she can make him proud of her achievements at least. Over-achieving daughter of an emotionally distant man, we've all been there, right?! Right?

As a rule there’s a lot of heartbreak and all kinds of personal problems being aired, but there’s always something about seeing Fina, Carmen and Claudia together in their room that makes me happy. Their room feels like a home, it’s soft and comforting despite at its core being a very spartan dormitory.

Fina telling them she’s going out with Petra and at least Carmen has the decency to not say anything, Claudia on the other hand runs straight for the idea that the two of them will be so pretty together they’ll immediately attract boyfriends. Oh Claudia. I love a good running joke so I sort of hope they never tell Claudia about lesbianism. Let her live her life without knowing that is a thing that exists so that we as an audience can keep mocking her forever and ever.

[call-me-rucy]

ELENA IS HERE! My girl, how have you been!! She's cut her hair, I love that!!

The Vorkosigang is back assembled! (Except for Ivan, poor Ivan).

And Mayhew!!! And Tung!!! Wow the team is really back together!! I'm so happy that I just know this won't last a chapter.

Plan A (...) was to flee at once to the Ariel, now on picket-station, and declare the revolution.

This sounds so Miles idk if Tung has rubbed off on Miles or the other way around.

"To bang his commander's wife?" Elena's eyes sparked. "Anyone's wife? I knew then he wasn't level. If my oaths meant nothing to him, how little did his own?"

SAY IT!! Although this feels very Barrayaran, for all of Elena's hate to her home planet.

Right, Gregor is hearing all this for the first time. I guess he heard a censored version at the end of TWA but he must be amazed at the notion that Miles really did have a fleet as his command.

If anyone could point me to an essay and/or paper and/or tumblr post about the naismith/vorkosigan identity crisis Miles has, I'd be very grateful.

"I think . . . should you become refugees on Our behalf," (Elena, Miles saw, heard that official capital O too, as Tung and Mayhew of course could not)

I love the writing I love the writing I love the writing

I loved her once. Who is she now? Could one choose not to fall in love all over again with this new person?

I LOVE THE WRITING!

Elena being so quick on her reasoning that this will just end up as another treason charge for Miles. I hope that our old friend Greg can help if (when) that time comes.

Mercenary Gregor. Now that's an AU if I've ever seen one. I've tried searching for it on AO3 but all I've found is an alarming frequent use of the tag "Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies".

"I hear their new second officer is a Barrayaran. You might be able to swing some help, there."

This is plot. I'm sure. But Idk how. It's not gonna be help so what is it. Ungari's people?

OH CAVILO IS WITH THE RANGERS OKAY. They're so gonna run into them.

"Strange," said Gregor, looking at Elena—at the new Elena, guessed—"to think you've had more combat experience than either of us." "Than both of you," Elena corrected dryly.

YES!! TELL THEM!!! Elena is not my favourite character only because Cordelia exists, I think.

"Your friend can pass as a fleet soldier," Tung told Miles. "For you, I found a box."

Miles deserves a hug too.

Almost over, says Miles, in page 230 of a 400 page book.

Aaaaaand, here's the trouble.

Cavilo is the elf lady?!?!?

METZOV?!?!?!?! METZOV??!??! I'm sorry, Metzov?!?! Works for Cavilo?????

I HAD SPENT THE LAST FOURTH OF THE BOOK WONDERING WHAT NARRATIVE PURPOSE THE FIRST FOURTH OF THE BOOK SERVED AND OMG HERE IT IS. How could I not see it. This is. I have no words. I love Lois McMaster Bujold.

[tenrose]

They are doing a LOTR marathon in the cinemas but it's Saturday and I fucking work Saturdays, why do I have to submit to the fatal order of needing money 😭😭😭😭

I can still go to watch ROTK though 👀

[certifiedyapperx]

imagine you’re dating ghost and no one knows. the two of you have kept it a secret on your end and his just for your protection— because ghost knows what could happen if someone finds out, how someone might try and target you to get to him, or worse, given his line of work.

but then imagine that he’s on a mission, interrogating some piece of filth ready to decorate the fucking wall with his brain matter when the guy says “you know what, simon, killing me would be the biggest mistake of your life.”

immediately ghost would pause, eyes narrowed, though his hardened demeanour wouldn’t fade much, he’d just blankly stare at the prick like “oh yea? n’ why don’ you tell m’ why.”

the shit-eating grin that would crawl across that fuckers lips would have ghost ready to kill him right then and there, but then he’d say “reach in my pocket. pull out my phone.”

id like to think ghost would have absolutely none of this assholes bullshit, not at all entertained by his theatrics. i’d like to think he’d just press the muzzle of his gun to the fuckers temple within an instant, all teeth barred and ready to get it over with when the guy would add,

“your girlfriend is a fucking beauty, isn’t she?”

everything would pause. ghost, time, the world, air, the universe itself—the life that would drain from ghosts face would almost be enough to make his alias a reality. his heart pounding in his throat, his fingers fucking trembling as he immediately reached into the assholes pocket to find his phone—a picture of a woman tied up (face not in view however) lighting up on the home screen. there’d be no thinking rationally, no thoughts in ghosts head except for making sure you were fucking okay. he’d do whatever he’d have to do, kill the guy, leave him strapped there, whatever—he’d be out of that room in two seconds flat and personally flying the helicopter back to your house calling you nonstop every fucking second until you answered.

“hello? si?”

he’d wait a second before answering. taking everything in. background noises, the inflection of your voice. it sounds calm, maybe too calm? he’s grasping his phone so fucking hard it’s a miracle it hasn’t shattered between his fingers.

“princess,” he breathes, fighting with everything in him to keep his voice steady. “see any birds today?”

though it was a genuine question, it also was an established one. ghost had set up a series of questions for a situation precisely like this. if you said blue jay, it meant you were fine, at home, as usual. if you said crows, it meant you weren’t.

“oh just the usual blue jays, si.” he could almost hear the smile on your lips. “everything okay? i miss you.”

ghost would exhale a shattered breath. “i’m coming home.”

and then he’d show up, not all but a few hours later, hands still trembling slightly, heart rate still struggling to regulate. it was too much, reminding him too much of his past traumas, he knew he needed to find better protection for you, but that was a conversation for another time.

he’d come in the house, barely even taking the time to shut the door behind him, almost frenzied again, relentless, unable to relax until he could finally lay eyes on you. and then, the second he did, he’d just pause and look at you, all messy hair and pyjamas still on, in the kitchen cooking breakfast for you both since you knew he was on his way.

and he wouldn’t say a goddamn word, he’d just come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you so tight you’d hardly be able to breathe, his face buried in your hair and his heart thumping at your back. you’d feel the pain the fear the anxiety radiating off him and you wouldn’t try to say anything because you knew he needed this, you knew he needed to see you, hold you, feel your pulse stable and alive. you knew he just needed a moment to breathe.

and so the two of you would stand there like that for a while, and then he’d take a big inhale and spin you around to face him, pulling up his mask to plant soft kisses on your jaw.

“i love you so fuckin’ much.”

[shararan]

Havent been able to leave the house to go back to the gaming night hosted once a week with my program.... where they got genshin...... i wanna play fontaine..... and run around with my faves....

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (Simon notices the outline of your thong that’s hidden under your yoga pants)

Simon isn’t even sure whether you’re doing this intentionally, trying to tease him, or you truly doesn’t realize how you’re testing his restraint, how he’s trying so hard not to just push you against the nearest wall in the gym and go down on you right now.

Your back is facing him, just standing few feet away in front of him, wearing that tight yoga pants emphasizing your supple thighs and ass in the most delectable way, squatting and let out tiny grunts here and there. The worst part is, he can see the thong you’re hiding behind the yoga pants, the outline of it so clearly for him, good that it’s just you two in the gym now, or he might just drag you back home and hide you from others’ ogling.

“Hey, what-“ His hands grab onto your arm the second you set down the dumbbell, your yelps and confusion doesn’t recognize by him as he shoves open an empty shower room and pin you against the wall, his bulge pressing snuggly on your pussy.

He’s mad hard, already leaving a dark spot on his sweatpants as he rubs it against your core shamelessly.

“You doing this on purpose, princess?” Pulling down your yoga pants, hooking a finger over the thin strip of your thong, he tugs it with a slight grin, letting it slap back against your hips. And that’s when you realize that the outline of your thongs’ actually visible even with the pants on.

“I didn’t mean it, Simon.” The noise of the running shower can’t cover your moans and attempted explaining, because he frees his thick, leaking cock from his boxers, chest securing you to the tiles, so he’s able to drag that aching shaft along your pussy, fucking your pussy lips and prodding at the clit till you’re a blabbering mess.

“Didn’t mean it? but you still made it hard for me, love.” The bulb tip slide into your soaking cunt easily. He calms himself and pants beside your ears, trying not to come immediately from how tight and warm your heavenly pussy feels. “You know how sexy you were when doing those squats, shoving your arse towards me, and kept reminding me you had a bloody thong that couldn’t even cover your pussy properly under the yoga pants?”

He rocks his hips fiercely, letting out all the pent-up horniness with each deep thrust, directly abusing the sweet spots and coaxing moans after moans from you.

The usually quiet man groans loudly every time he wrenches an orgasm out of you, the shower wash off your juices dripping down your thighs, before your eyes roll back and cry out, messing them with both his and your cum.

“Gonna come…ngh, fuck…” Seeing stars can’t describe how cock drunk you are now when you squeeze your cunt around his cock and tumble over the edge, the white hot pleasure corrupting your mind, overstimulated to your limits when he hisses—almost comes too early from your spasming walls and pinch your clit as retaliation.

“Fuck, going to paint your pretty little pussy with my cum again…gotta-oh fuck” Simon’s voice trembles when slamming into you one last time, filling you up nice and tight with his release. He leans his forehead against your shoulder, recovering from the aftershocks of orgasms together with you.

“-Gotta claim this fucking pussy again, 's all mine, yeah?” Murmuring and pressing a tender kiss to your nape, he grabs the soap and start cleaning you up, more from the aftermath of the sloppy make-out than your previous workout.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi lashing out on his pregnant wife only to beg her for forgiveness later

Pairing: Sanemi x pregnant!reader

Word Count: 3,1k

Synopsis: Like every week, you find yourself on your way back from Shinobu's estate and your pregnancy check-up. Little did you know what horror awaits you at your own home with your husband almost killing two kids...

Warnings: Sanemi is mean in this one and I mean it, extreme hurt but also comfort in the end so don't worry, full Shinazugawa package regarding language and violence lol, not proofread because I have to leave now

Thank you sooo much for that cool request @itsmscoco and I'm sorry it took a while. I really hope you like what I came up with 🤍

You rub your minor belly. For a woman, a pregnancy should feel like a trip to heaven. After all, you are blessed with developing a child that is half you and half your husband. Oh, your beloved and surprisingly gentle husband who always makes sure that you get enough sleep, that you nutrition yourself properly. But even the wind hashira can’t do a single thing against your constant sickness and pain.

“Please try this out, (y/n). Don’t hesitate to come here again if you need something else. You really have an unfortunate pregnancy when it comes to nausea”, Shinobu comments gently while giving your belly a little massage.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am so excited about the honor of caring for a child in my own body. But honestly, I’m so glad when this pregnancy is over”, you huff while taking a deep breath in.

Please, don’t vomit all over the insect pillar who’s just trying to help. You’ve been here what feels like everyday since finding out you’re pregnant. Well, to be exact, Shinobu is the one who suggested that you might expect a child.

Because of your never-ending sickness.

“Oh, there’s nothing to get wrong at all! After all, your pregnancy is a rather difficult one. But I’m sure Shinazugawa is taking good care of you!”

“He definitely does. My husband is an angel”, you reply in an instant.

You can’t wait to go back home. Even though your sleep-drunken eyes won’t be able to stay open longer than maybe a few hours, even though you weren’t able to catch a proper glimpse at Sanemi’s part in the on-going hashira training until now, you can’t wait to go back home. Back into your estate, back into the arms of your beloved husband.

“Not quite the codename I’d use for him, but that’s just what love does, right? I will send a kakushi along with you. Otherwise, Shinazugawa might show up and threaten me”, Shinobu jokes while helping you to get up.

“Thank you for your help. Again.”

You pull the insect hashira into a deep hug. How lucky you should consider yourself for the opportunity to call Shinobu your friend, that Sanemi laid his eyes on you. Out of all the countless women around, the ones with faces like porcelain and bodies so well-formed you can’t hold a candle against every single one of them. But still, he chose you.

“Come on, (y/n). Why are you crying?”, Shinobo whispers into your ear while rubbing small circles onto your back.

“I’m just a little overwhelmed from everything I guess”, you mumble against her comforting shoulder.

Just a few months ago, you would have laughed at anyone who told you that your life would turn out like this. Of course, you’ve lost countless good friends and family members on the way and living with a suborn husband like Sanemi isn’t always easy. But somehow, the two of you always make it work.

Right?

-at the wind hashira estate-

“We are almost there. Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just a little tired from walking, that’s all!”

Truth is, your feet hurt like hell. Shinobu reported about women who don’t even feel their baby until the second trimester. Why are your feet already swollen, your belly bloated, your guts constantly turning? And there’s still so much ahead.

“Looks like Shinazugawa-sama received a new bunch of trainees after the other corps members all landed in Kocho-sama’s hospital wing”, the kakushi next to you comments dryly.

“Was it really that bad?”

Of course you heard about the rather brutal training methods of your husband. After all, even the walls of his estate aren’t thick enough to stop every single scream from reaching your ears. But still…

“It was pretty bad. Some of the-“

Glass cracking. Screams from afar. Out of instinct, you pick up your pace until you dash towards your home, sweat now dripping from every pore. What happened? Is Sanemi alright? He wouldn’t leash out on one of his students like that. Something must have happened. A demon? No, it’s still daytime. But what is it?

“He’s back! He’s back! That cold-blooded man! Lie down and pretend that you’ve fainted!”, a blonde-haired boy screams while almost collapsing onto the floor.

“What are you talking about? What’s going on here?”, you press out.

Your lungs threaten to fail you, breath already tasting like pure iron.

Until your eyes find Genya.

Your guts twist and turn in every direction, almost force you to vomit all over the place. Genya shouldn’t be here. Out of all people, it shouldn’t be him. And who’s the boy next to him. That familiar scar, you’ve seen that boy before. Is it possible that…

“Kamado Tanjiro”, you breathe out.

Maybe that is even worse.

Your eyes dart around the area without an aim. Where’s Sanemi? Did he find them already? They need to leave before he finds out that they’re here, carry on with another hashira training.

“Please stop now!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouts while stretching out his arm in defence.

An uneasy feeling crawls up your spine, the dark claws of sickening foreshadowing. All you can do is standing death still right where you are and watch in sheer horror as your husband stomps out of your estate motion.

Is that your husband you love and adore, though? You know how untamed he can get especially when getting confronted with his painful past. It was never easy for him to see Genya join the demon slayer corps or realize that his mother could have been saved like Tanjiro’s sister.

But never in your entire life have you seen him like this. The empty shell of your husband, muscles tensed to the maximum and his empty orbs directed towards the two boys in front of him.

In this very moment, you’d trust him to actually kill them.

“What are you going to do? Are you planning to kill Genya?”, Tanjiro continues passionately.

Your glossy orbs are set on your husband. Would he really do something like that? What if you witness the father of your unborn child taking the life of two other human beings? Your heart can’t take it, knees threaten to fail you.

“Hell no, I’m not going to kill him. It would be easy enough to kill him, but since it’s against the rules and all…I’m going to ruin him beyond recovery!”

Until your blurry head finally makes a decision and allows your feet to run.

Straight towards the two boys.

Straight into the firing line.

Straight into the sight of your now maniac husband.

“You won’t do any of these things, you hear me?”, you jeer at him with your new-found courage.

“(y/n)”, Genya breathes behind you.

“How dare you to talk to innocent children like that, Sanemi?”

The man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, hands clenched into tight fists while taking a step towards you.

“Get lost. Right now”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

You swallow hard, all nerves now tingling in sheer horror. This is the first and last warning, without any doubt. The look on his stone-cold face tells you more than urgently that Sanemi isn’t playing, that he doesn’t want you here.

Maybe it’s best if you go back inside and pretend that nothing happened. He himself said that he won’t kill them, after all…

“I’m not leaving”, you bite back.

But that would mean leaving Genya alone. That would mean giving up all of your principles.

“Will you act out like this towards our child as well?”, you continue while growing bigger and bigger in front of the two boys.

He might be your husband, the love of your life. That doesn’t mean you’ll always have to do what he tells you, tough. Instinctively, you clench your hands into tight fists with your glossy eyes almost piercing through him. Enough is enough.

“If our child acts as dumb as you do, I sure as hell will!”

Oh.

Your heart drops to the floor when a nauseous wave of agony hits you with full force. Sanemi is and has always been a hot-headed man who never thought twice about the things he said. But never, not even once in your entire relationship he insulted you.

Until now.

“Is this really how you feel about me? We should support each other, you should listen to me as well as-“

“Spare me with that bullshit, (y/n)”, Sanemi spits at you.

“Get.out.of.the.way. Can’t you hear me?”

It’s like you stop living for a moment. All this time, you did your best to understand him and his grief. Everything Sanemi does comes with a logical reason behind it, even though it’s hard to see from time to time. But lashing out at you like that?

“Stop being so disrespectful to me right now. I am your wife-“

“Right now, you’re my problem”, he jeers back.

“And now get off my sight and let me finish this real quick-“

You don’t know what made you act the way you just did. Was it his cruel behaviour, the way his words cut through your heart like a thousand knives? Before your husband is even able to finish his sentence, your palm races towards his cheek with full force.

The world around you goes silent, frightful gazes glued onto you while you can’t stop your tears from falling anymore.

“Is this how you’re acting around your pregnant wife by now, how you’ll treat innocent children? If that’s the live you chose, I’m not a part of it anymore”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, the urge to get as far away from him as possible becomes unbearable. Your feet start sprinting towards the estate on your own, carry you into your now so empty-feeling bedroom.

And finally, you allow yourself to break down and cry.

Is this really the man you love, that you’d give your life for? Your shaky fingers caress your belly mindlessly.

You can’t stay here. Not when Sanemi showed you a completely different face today. Not when this place doesn’t feel like home anymore.

-a few hours later-

“Fuck!”, Sanemi cries out on top of his lungs while dashing towards Obanai over and over.

Why can’t he get your stupid words out of his mind? The way you stood there with tears in your eyes, how he was literally able to hear your heart crack when those damned words left his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, to drag you into the fuckery with his little brother and that Kamado boy.

But why did he say all those dumb things, then?

“You seem off, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly, hitting the wind hashira with full force again.

“I guess I fucked up”, Sanemi mumbles.

What if you won’t forgive him for today? Your last words haunt him since the moment you left him standing in the rain.

“I bet you can talk your way out of it-“

“Hell nah. I don’t think she wants to see me tonight.”

“Did you ask her, though?”

“Who the hell do you think you are anyway? You’re the one to talk, not able to confess your feelings to Mitsuri”, Sanemi barks at the man next to him.

“But yeah, maybe I should get going…”

Coming home never fuelled him with so much fright. What if you’re still angry at him, if you refuse to even talk to him? Or even worse, what if you’ll really leave him?

Sanemi’s guts turn in an instant, feet now picking up their pace with every step. He can’t lose you. Not you, the light of his life. Not when you are the only ray of sunshine in this rotting hell. What the hell did he do? The fact that he even raised his voice at you is unforgivable.

Finally, his fingers grab the door that leads to your shared bedroom, finally he’s able to make up for his mistakes of today-

His eyes widen in sheer horror.

You’re gone.

Right there where your head should rest, there’s absolutely nothing.

Panic starts rising up his chest, forces his heart down his throat.

Did you leave?

He yanks out of your shared room, eyes roaming around each and every corner of your estate. But you aren’t there. You aren’t here.

“My lady is at the love hashira’s estate.”

Sanemi darts up immediately, greeted by the oh so familiar voice of your personal crow.

“Is she fine, why did she-“

“With all due respect, I suggest you to control yourself before making any more insensitive comments to my lady-“

“Who the hell do you even think you are you-“

“Your earlier spoken words really troubled her and my lady certainly does not deserve that.”

Without another word, your crow disappears into the darkness of night again.

Sanemi swallows hard. Fuck, did he really hurt you that badly? He never wanted you to feel bad, never wanted to hurt you. Damn, he only wanted to show Genya and that Kamado boy their places. It shouldn’t have hit you. Out of all people, why did he have to hurt you?

“I need to tell her”, he mumbles under his breath before dashing towards the love hashira estate.

-at Mitsuri’s-

“I can’t believe Shinazugawa said something like this to you, (y/n)! You are super far away from being dumb, after all! Here, eat another pancake and stay as long as you want.”, Mitsuri babbles while handing you another plate.

Your dry eyes are barely able to stay open any longer. All the grief, explaining, fighting and crying did apparently really wear you out. Good for you Mitsuri’s estate is near by and you just know she’ll always open her arms for you.

“Thank you so much for taking me in, Kanroji. I really don’t deserve your kindness”, you sniffle.

“You have to be joking, (y/n)! It’s my duty as your friend to be there for you anytime you need me! And also, I-”

Three violent knocks on Mitsuri’s wooden door almost send you over the edge. It’s past after midnight, the time closer to the morning than evening. Who would knock on Mitsuri’s door this late at night?

“Do you think that’s a demon?”, you mutter in horror, both pairs of eyes set on the door.

“I don’t think so. Let’s see!”

Before you’re able to stop Mitsuri, she rips open the door.

And reveals no other than your husband.

“Sanemi”, you breathe out.

Tears start swelling up your eyes in an instant when a flood of memories crushes you all over again. Just a few hours ago, your husband made very clear that he doesn’t want to see you again anytime soon. How did he find out that you’re here?

“(y/n), can we…have a talk?”, he mumbles with icy voice.

“Do you want to leave me?”, you blurt out.

“What?”

Is that really how you feel, what you think of him? That he’ll turn his back on you after a fight? He did say all those nasty things to you, though.

“I think I’m going out and…cook!”, Mitsuri announces while sprinting out of the door, leaving you alone in the room with all that tension and him.

Him, the man you love more than anything else in this world. And also him, who broke your heart like he never did before.

“You have to be kidding me”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.

You turn away before you lose your composure completely.

“Why are you here, Sanemi?”

“Do you really think I’m here to dump you!? You, my pregnant wife!? You can’t be fucking serious about that!”

In the matter of seconds, you find yourself surrounded by his usual so comforting arms that now hurt like daggers against your skin.

“Please, let me go, I can’t do this ri-“

“(y/n), please.”

His suffocated voice forces your eyes to dart upwards.

Instantly, your heart drops to the floor.

Is this really your husband, crying against your shoulder while pressing your body against his?

“I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve said, I’m sorry for making you feel this way. I’d never leave you, not when I’m even lucky for calling you mine. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, I just…I just can’t stand them…”

“Sanemi…”

“And I get that I don’t deserve you and that I’m a jerk for hurting you. I know you could’ve had every man you wanted-“

“Sanemi!”, you snap at him, holding onto his face tightly.

“But you’re the one I want”, you finally cry out.

“But your words hurt me. Is this really how you feel about me? Do you really think I’m a burden?”

“I was out of my fucking mind for saying that to you! You’re my blessing, my everything, the sunshine in this rotting hell. You’re…You’re my wife, right?”

That innocent look on his now tear-soaked face runs shivers down your spine, reminds you that even though he acted out today, this man is still the Sanemi Shinazugawa you fell in love with years ago.

“I am your wife”, you press out before a new wave of tears haunts you down.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). So so sorry”, he mutters again and again while kissing every tear away that escapes your eyes.

“And I’ll never talk to you like that again, I promise.”

“Will you promise to not treat Tanjiro and Genya like that ever again too?”

Sanemi shifts his weight underneath you, his orbs growing hard again. Was this too much to ask for? No. Even though you love Sanemi’s rough side as well, he simply can’t do something like this again. Not when you’re his wife, not when you are expecting his first very own child.

“I will. But only if these jerks leave me alone”, he grumbles before giving you a passionate kiss.

“That might be manageable. I want to go home now…”

“No problem, I’ll carry you-“

“You really don’t have to carry me-“

“Oh, but I sure as hell will.”

“HAVE A GOOD NIGHT YOU TWO! AND DON’T ACT LIKE A JERK AGAIN, SHINAZUGAWA!”

“Did you have to tell her everything?”

“She’s my friend, Sanemi. Of course I had to.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt

[kachulein]

I guess my dream is quite long and detailed... I reached all 30 tags so I'll finish it off below the cut:

(Also TW: violence/murder for both the tags and below the cut)

He addressed me as Kitty or Kitten and basically treated and talked to me as if I was a cat and he had no bigger joys in life than to "play" with me now.

Me cowering in the corner was even more ironic now because the dynamic man versus cat was kind of established that way

At this point my brain was going into overdrive - how was I supposed to get out of this alive? The only chance I had was to catch him by surprise, sneak around him and escape through the door, so that's what I tried when I felt as if the right moment had come

I quickly got up and dashed around him, he turned in surprise but managed to hold on to me and drag me back before I had been able to fully exit the room

Now I was pressed up against his side and he was making even more snide and disgusting/creepy/predatory comments, really enjoying the thought of me as a human "kitty cat" and anticipating the moment in which he could take my last breath away

He started strangling me with his hands, I'm not sure if he also injured me with a weapon, I only remember how my neck was very bloody afterwards - especially on one side, so he might've injured me there with a knife

But at that point, that wasn't important to me as I was gasping for air and trying my best to make my struggle be heard and scream in some way, shape, or form

I think it was successful as I heard someone running up the stairs while I started getting dizzier with every second, my system screaming for oxygen while I was struggling against his hold

Suddenly, though, the door slammed open and it revealed my cousin standing there, a furious spark of anger in his eyes

He didn't hesitate one bit when he flung himself at the guy, tore him away from me and fell on the bed right next to us with him

Then I only saw him hovering over the guy, taking out a knife and stabbing and slitting his throat, blood splattering out and covering the sheets as the guy's body went limp

It was finally over, I had survived, and my cousin had saved me

When the police arrived we were like "y'all couldn't have come here a bit sooner??"

I met the woman/girlfriend again, she was taken away in handcuffs, looking saddened

As she passed by me she told me she really loved him even though she never liked what he'd done to other people (not just those he murdered, but also the mistreatment of others, etc.)

I asked her if he had been abusive towards her, too, but she told me that he had always been the most amazing and sweetest guy to her and she never had to fear he'd do anything bad to her

I was glad to hear that, I told her that I was sorry it had to end like this and we parted ways on kinda good terms, so to say ???

When I got home I finally had a chance to examine my condition and potential injuries (apparently I wasn't brought to a doctor or hospital?)

My neck definitely had marks on it and you could tell someone had tried to strangle me to death, and then I also found the blood stain on the left side of my neck

But I couldn't recall a moment in which I was injured there, so I thought that I hadn't noticed it while I was almost killed :'))

and then I woke up-

Reblog and put in the tags a dream you had that seems like you're making it up when describing it but it's something you genuinely dreamed.

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

A Week (He Will Take You)

~

Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.

This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.

Anyway

This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,

They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.

They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.

Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.

Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.

In other words they were stuck in Gotham

Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.

Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,

Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.

You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.

Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.

But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.

"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"

This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.

"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"

That was it.

The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.

But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,

Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.

The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty

Like no one had been living in it.

People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.

Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.

~

Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"

Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "

~

Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"

~

Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."

Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."

Bruce: "Hn."

Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"

~

Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"

Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"

~

Just an Idea

[propertyofwicked]

YOU OWE ME - LN

warnings: none, just fluff (inspired by that one CL stream). this is so short pls forgive me

(also, anyone else seen the pics of lando in aus? FERAL for that man.)

“tier 1 sub - max can you tell lando to get off his computer and let me in the flat please im freezing” max reads out, bursting into laughter, “youre in trouble mate.”

max hears a travelling shout of swearing, getting quieter as lando’s headset is thrown to the desk and his entire body hurtling towards the front door.

“shit shit shit shit,” lando shouts, his fingers struggling with the keys left on the inside of the door. finally he manages to unlock the door and pull it open to see his girlfriend, rosy cheeked and a less than impressed expression.

“lando, how many times have i said to take the keys out of the door if you lock it and im not home - especially if youre not going to answer your phone.”

“im sorry baby, im sorry i know - i forgot,” he mumbles, his hands taking yours and bringing them to his face. he flinches slightly at the sheer coldness of your fingers, “do you want a drink? hot chocolate? tea? coffee? it’ll warm you up”

“i’d love a cup of tea,” you smile sadly, shrugging your horribly thin jacket off. honestly, with the typical english winter, your jacket was almost useless in combatting the cold winds anyways. you move to follow lando into the kitchen, watching him fill the kettle and move to grab a mug from the cupboard.

“come here,” you say, opening your arms slightly for lando to move into. he moves to you instantly.

“you’re not angry at me?”

“no, i am. youre just warm” you say, looking up to smile at him. his hands fall to your waist, gripping your hips and hoisting you up to sit on the counter, but he doesn’t move back into your embrace. instead, his arms move to take his hoodie off himself, and pull it over your head.

“better?”

“slightly,” you're still smiling at him as you adjust the hoodie - lando can tell you're not angry at him, just slightly irritated.

“the heating’s on, my office is warm - you wanna go sit in there whilst i finish your tea, angel?” he asks, his hand stroking your cheek, “max is on call if you wanna talk to him for a bit? he’s streaming but you already know that,” he grins, his tongue sticking into the side of his cheek.

“i think max’s chat deserve to know how bad of a boyfriend you are,” you joke, hoisting yourself off the counter, ready to march on in and complain to the stream. lando’s hand catches your arm, spinning you back into his chest. his hand comes back to your cheek, and tilts your head back.

“im sorry baby, you know i am,” he frowns slightly - you reassure him that he is forgiven by pressing a small kiss to his lips. once again you go to move, but he pulls you back in, kissing you again - repeatedly pecking kisses all over your face and eventually your lips. his tongue swipes your bottom lip, begging for more. you pull your head back slightly, desperate to go and rat him out to max but his teeth nip down on your bottom lip again to prolong the connection.

“i don’t think so, lan,” you giggle, smiling up at him again. lando groans and swears you almost skip your way to his office, excited to tell max as he prepares for a night of grovelling.

“max. you’ll never believe this man,” you sigh, after popping lando’s headset on your own head.

“y/n! how are you?”

“freezing, max. and £10 poorer now i’ve had to sub to your twitch to be let into my own flat.”

“oh yeah, thanks for the sub,” max laughs out, looking at the chat, “it’s ok, chat reckon you should invoice lando for the inconvenience.”

“i think i might have to you know, although he’s making me a cup of tea right now and i might be able to pout my way into a takeaway tonight.”

“y/n that man is so whipped i don’t think you need to pout your way into him doing anything for you,” he responds, his emphasis on anything making you grin slightly.

minutes later, lando comes into the room, using his foot to kick the door open in front of him, his hands full with your mug and your lip balm. hang on, lip balm?

“here you go baby,” he says, placing the mug down on the coaster on his desk, “i put honey in it for your throat, and i brought your lip balm ‘cos your lips are dry,” he grins as he hands you the lip balm.

“my lips wouldn’t be dry if you’d answered the phone the first time i rang you,” you say, the eye roll evident in your voice, even to max who couldn’t see your face.

“hang on, y/n, how does he know your lips are dry?” max interrupts, his laugh travelling through the headset.

“because max, when two people love each other very muc-”

“ew stop it,” lando interjects, as he sets up a second set of headphones to join in the chat.

“he’s trying to regain my love with physical affection.”

“i can tell from your tone that it’s not working.”

“well, after that ‘ew’ i think i may have to revoke all physical affection.”

“you wouldn’t,” lando gasps, his hands dramatically clutching his chest.

“order dominoes and ill reconsider. you owe me.”

“yeah lando, and send her £10 to cover the cost of the twitch sub,” max shouts, siding with you, “chat also think you should, as a courtesy.”

you don’t say anything, but turn to look at him, puppy dog eyes and a pout to complete the look.

“fine! fine,” he laughs again, holding his hands up in surrender, “i was going to offer anyways.”

“sure you were,” you and max manage to say simultaneously.

-

an hour later, your food had arrived and your saying goodbye to max and his chat, as lando goes to the door. however, by the time you shuffle into the living room, lando has began setting up netflix, sat next to a mound of blankets he’d brought in from your bedroom.

“hey you, come ‘ere,” he says, leaning his back against the arm of the sofa and tapping the space between his legs. once you were settled, your back resting on his chest, he leans to grab the pizza box on the coffee table in front of you - it went down quickly.

“funny how hungry you get when you’re left shivering in the freezing cold for hours," you think out loud.

“it wasn’t hours and i didn’t do it on purpose y/n,” lando whines, scoffing slightly at the time embellishment, absentmindedly playing with your fingers as he did.

“i know baby, i’m sorry. you’re forgiven,” you start to feel bad for him. he presses a kiss to the top of your head, before manoeuvring you both further down the sofa until he’s laying completely flat, and you roll over so that your head can lay on his chest. the two of you lay in silence for a few moments, the tv still playing quietly in the background, and you feel his chest moving with every breath.

lando's hands wander underneath his your hoodie, and begin to trace small shapes on your skin, making you shiver slightly. then, a thought hits you.

“someone needs to make a compilation of F1 drivers accidentally locking their girlfriends out because they’re streaming,” he laughs as you say it, your whole body shaking from the shuddering of his laughing, "it seems to happen more than you'd think."

“hey! i wasn’t streaming - max was, i was just there. AND! i paid you back, charles never paid his girlfriend back for the sub.”

“oh, aren’t you generous.”

[earthtooz]

cw: arranged marriage, fluff, neglect at the beginning, ratio falling hard, pining, ratio being jealous of aventurine, unedited bc i wrote this with my heart not my brain

my brain has been thinking about an arranged marriage fic with dr. ratio...

he isn't kind to you at first, less than happy to share a life with a mere acquaintance. he's heard about you before in passing, noting your achievements with a grain of salt because nothing about you particularly mattered to him, irrelevant against the mass of scrolls and books he needs to read.

you don't really disturb his normal routine too much. you move in to his estate with a fair share of your belongings, but none of them crowd his house too much. you have your own room, pristine guest room unearthed by your artistic touch.

aside from dinners, you don't get to see each other too much. he starts his mornings early, getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise and start his day with a hearty meal. you wake up later, partaking in a slow morning, and if you glanced out the window, you might be able to see your husband running laps around the expanse of his gardens.

you admire his dedication and routine, it's fascinating to live beside a genius. everyday, the chest table that sits in the living room changes, the black and white pieces never remaining where you last recalled. the size of his blackboard is impressive, and yet too small to fit all of the formulas his brain remembers, hands effortlessly dancing along the surface to scratch number after number.

a frequent order of his estate is chalk. a new pile is delivered every three days, and he goes through them without fail every time.

during dinner, he tries to spare some conversation with you. you don't tell him too much about your day, not wanting to bore him with your menial chores. he's only half-listening either way, so you'll feign understanding about his work when he explains what he's up to.

ratio is not an attentive husband, but he doesn't mistreat you, either. he allows you to spend his assets without too much care, doesn't police your everyday tasks, and also doesn't bat an eye at other men or women. his pursuit of intelligence is important, and your wellbeing would not come in between that.

your monotonous, distant routine changes one autumn dusk. you're perched in the front yard with an easel set up before you, the sky in front of you now a blend of pink-purple hues. he returns home earlier than you expected, carriage stopping at the front of his estate, and he witnesses you in your tranquil state.

the paint strokes on the canvas before you are skilled, and show years of dedication to the craft. you're so invested in the piece before you, that you don't even hear him approaching until he calls your name.

"the night turns colder with each minute. shouldn't you come inside before you fall ill?" the scholar greets, and you're snapped out of your creative reverie, looking over at him.

"oh, i had not realised. let me clean up here, first." you take your canvas off the easel, but to your surprise, your spouse kneels down to organise your oil paints back into their box.

"make haste, then," he urges.

during dinner, he can't help but be curious over your hobby, the stubborn splotches of paint clinging to your hands visible to him. that night, you engage in uninterrupted conversation, and discover that he's an artist himself- a sculptor. it calms him, and all the statues reside in a removed room, adjacent to his study.

despite your years of matrimony, you had never once dared enter his study, but the design is so fittingly him. it is organised (well, as organised a genius can be), with shelves and shelves filled with books, discarded scrolls lay around the room, but even then, his taste for greco-roman aesthetics are seen. roman dorics act like stands for little plants, and his many certificates are displayed, along with other achievements.

(his study is overwhelmingly filled with them. though you knew of the merit of the man you were arranged to be married to, you had never known just how expansive the list is. perhaps, that only made him more intimidating to you, standing beside a genius does not feel so light to say anymore.)

he shows you his sculptures, and though many of them are... self portraits... the likeness is disgustingly accurate. it was as if he had casted himself in plaster and displayed it proudly. you wonder how long he must have stared in the mirror to perfect their appearance.

but, there are also various other formidable statues. some of people you recognise. you compliment his skill and don't get to see the blush that spreads along his cheeks.

it seems that you've chipped a way into his heart, because between brushstrokes and chiselled marble, he falls in love with you.

ratio knows he didn't start off being the best husband, but he tries to now, and begins by being present. asks you to dine together where possible, listens when you're talking about your day, and the two of you can be seen venturing downtown together; an unbelievable sight for those who believed that ratio was romantically inept.

perhaps, an even more unbelievable sight, was the soft smile on his face that glanced at you very adoringly, and how you remained unaware of his affections.

and, maybe a jealous veritas ratio is just as unbelievable.

he is practically glaring daggers at the side of a certain blond's head. ratio has never been fond of the scheming businessman, aventurine, and is even less so of the fact that you seem so close to him, more than you are with your own husband. you're speaking with him like how one would with old friends, a peaceful visit to the markets turned sour by his presence.

when you finally, finally, finally, bid farewell to aventurine, who gave ratio a look that signified he was up to no good, your husband held your hand in his gloved one with an unforgiving grip. his mood is dampened for the remainder of the day, and is only made better when you enquire about his sudden glumness, visiting his office to see if he was alright.

you leave him with a kiss on the crown of his head, and a whisper of 'goodnight', before retreating to your chambers, and the only thought that circulates in his head for the rest of the night is you, and how he's going to sweep you off your feet.

[imaginedisish]

Inside Out (Logan Howlett x f!reader)

A/N: Oh my god I'm back again. This is another soft!Logan fic. I couldn't hold myself back from writing this one. The next fic I have planned is going to be devious and diabolical, I promise, but for now, here's another angsty, soft and smutty Logan one shot. Couldn't stop listening to "Inside Out" by Duster while writing this one. I think it fits. Hope you guys enjoy :)

Summary: After a tense battle, you and Logan have it out (in more ways than one).

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ Minors DNI! Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, PIV (unprotected...wrap it up, this is fiction!), Allusions to PTSD/mental health, Frenemies to Lovers, Fem!reader, AFAB!reader, Mutant!reader, Telepathic!reader (with heightened senses/visions), cannon typical violence/allusions to death, non-sexual intimacy becomes sexual intimacy (not sure if that warrants a warning), angry!Logan, reader has hair (length/texture/color not described!) major angst, probably grammatical errors, I think that's everything.

Word Count: 4477 wow

You and Logan are surrounded. You can hear the other members of the team nearby in the forest, screaming, grunting, fighting. Guns going off, ricocheting against trees. And now, there is a circle of government-sanctioned mutant hunters pointing their machine guns and rifles directly at the two of you. 

Your heart beats out of your chest. How the fuck are you going to get out of this? It seems impossible. Sure, you and Logan can regenerate, but not nearly fast enough. You’re outnumbered 2 to at least 40, and more to come. Maybe this is the end. Maybe there’s no going home this time. 

But then, an idea crosses your mind. Briefly. A flash. A shot in the dark. But it’s there. And if you’re strong enough, it might just work.

You wince as another presence weaves itself through the fabric of your thoughts. No, Charles shouts in your mind. It’s too dangerous. 

You shake him off, forcing up your mental shields. Logan recognizes that look on your face. He can tell you’re up to something. He has always been able to read you like a book. 

“Don’t you dare put yourself in danger,” he mutters under his breath so only you can hear him. “We are all walking out of here, and you’re no exception.”

You close your eyes. “When I tell you to get down, you get down.”

“Absolutely not!” His nostrils flare. The government agents cock their guns. 

“Lo, get down.”

“Fuck no!”

You can feel it coming—feel their fingers bracing their triggers. Pulling. Pulling. Pulling. Everything is silent for a moment. You can hear everything. Nothing. There’s a squirrel running up a tree just a few feet away. A cold breeze sweeps through your legs. Peace. 

It never lasts long, does it?

“NOW!”

BANG! The shots ring out, echoing against the branches, the sound shaking the trees. 

With half your focus, you shove Logan to the ground, and with the other, you stop each and every bullet pointed in your direction. You stop the agents too, freezing them in their places. Dense, heavy sweat builds upon your brow. You’re trembling, your hands stretched out towards Logan and the agents, but you’re still in control. You can hold on a bit longer.  

You swallow harshly, forcing the bullets to rain down to the ground. With the twist of your hand, you remove the magazines from each of the guns and unload them, the ammunition falling to the ground, too. With the agents still under your control, you bend their wrists just enough so that they sprain; just enough so that they can’t fight back. 

And then comes that sudden, familiar shift in your body and in your mind. You’re weakening, losing control, struggling to breathe. You growl in agony, your head ready burst from the pressure of hanging on too long—but you have to finish this. You have to save your friends. 

You have to save Logan. 

With one final push of your hand, you send the government agents flying deep into the forest, screaming in pain at the sheer force it takes. You fall to your knees, down on the ground next to Logan. You try to catch your breath, your chest heaving rapidly. You cough, choking on your own breath and saliva as the taste of metal burns at the back of your throat. You swallow it all down. One more second of that, or a few more agents to fend off, and you might not have made it. You might have died trying. 

You regain some of your energy after a few moments on the ground. It’s not until you try to stand that you notice Logan’s hand on your back. He tries to help you up, but you shake him off. 

“I’m fine,” you protest, dusting off your uniform. 

“Fine?” Fuck. He’s angry. “You call that fine? You almost died!”

You turn to face him. He wants anger? Oh, you can show him what anger fucking looks like. “We would be dead if I didn’t do that! I did what I had to do!”

He prowls toward you. His claws are still out. “Are you fucking crazy?” He’s backing you into a tree now. “Tell me, what the fuck was that? What did you think you were doing?” He retracts his claws as he pins his hands into the tree, right next to your head. The bark scratches into the rips in your uniform. 

You condescendingly poke his chest with your pointer figure. If he’s going to treat you like a child, you’re going to do the same to him. “Saving your ass, that’s what!” You shout back. 

“This is not the time or place for you two to have it out.” Scott’s grating voice fills your ears. He is the last person’s opinion you’d like to hear right now.

You and Logan snap your heads to face him. “Shut the fuck up, Scott!” You spit in unison. He throws his hands up and backs away. 

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” Logan practically growls. 

You shake your head, your nostrils flaring. “I was protecting you!” You shout. “And I did! It worked!”

The rest of the team starts to board the jet, but Logan shows no sign of budging. Storm crosses her arms as she stands in front of the ramp. “Logan, let’s go.” 

He doesn’t move an inch, still caging you in. “I’ve got the bike. I’ll take her with me.”

“My bike!” Scott calls from just inside the ship. Logan shoots him a death stare. Even you roll your eyes at the comment. 

“Logan,” Charles chides from next to Storm, his voice a warning. 

You tilt your head past Logan to see Charles. “It’s fine. I’ll go with him. We’ll meet you guys at the mansion.” 

Charles nods. You swear you can see a faint smirk spread across his face, but he’s turning around and wheeling himself up the ramp before you can truly make out his expression. 

The ramp shuts behind him, and the jet powers up to leave. “So how are we settling this, hm?” You ask, cockily. Logan works his jaw, staring down at you with a fury you’re not quite sure you’ve seen before. “What would you like to do, bub?” You smirk. “What, you gonna tell me we’re supposed to be a team or something? Thought that wasn’t your style.” You know you’re being harsh, using his own words against him, ripping into him, but you don’t care. The jet takes off, but neither you nor Logan pay it any mind. 

His tongue swipes his bottom lip, and you can’t help but watch. You try to ignore how much you like the sight of it. Of him. 

“Never,” he seethes, not wavering an inch. “Never do anything like that again.”

“Why?” Is all you ask, knowing full well you’re poking the bear. “It’s nothing you wouldn’t have done.”

He ignores you and presses on. “I swear to God, if anything ever happens to you, I will punch a fucking hole in the goddamn universe so big that…” He trails off, his eyes searching your face. There’s a shift in his expression. “So fucking big that…” But he still doesn’t finish the sentence. His eyes are glossed over, like he’s holding back tears. 

You’re suddenly embarrassed. You can’t keep his stare, his eyes locked on you. You look down at the leaf-covered ground, and you realize just how dirty you are. Blood on your hands, under your nails, caked into your skin. You’re finally understanding the gravity of the moment—of what could have been if your plan didn’t work. 

“It was the only way,” you pause, feeling tears sting behind your sinuses, burning as they reach your eyes. “Only way I saw it ending without you d-dying.” You have to choke the words out. “C-couldn’t lose you,” you mutter, hoping he can’t hear you. 

“And what?” He says, not backing down. “You think you’re the only one with something to lose?”

“N-no,” you stutter softly. “That’s not what I meant at all. I just—”

“I’d rather die than live in a world without you.” He says finally. He pushes himself off the tree and away from you. He turns, walking towards wherever he parked the bike. 

You look at his back in disbelief. “W-what?” “You fucking heard me,” he shouts, not bothering to stop and wait for you or to elaborate further. You push your back off the tree and follow him through the forest. 

“Slow down!” You call out, still not quite fully recovered from using your powers. But he keeps pressing forward. “Logan!” You call again. “Please, I—” You stumble a bit, almost falling over, but you catch yourself just in time. You reach out to a tree for support, gripping a low branch tightly in your hand. You suck in deep, shaky breaths as you let your eyes fall closed. 

Logan shouts your name in the near distance, his voice filled with panic. His footsteps crunch the leaves of the forest floor. You can tell he’s sprinting with every twig that cracks beneath his boots. “Fuck, are you okay?” He’s next to you now, his arms enveloping you, reaching around your waist to offer you support. 

You can feel your tears bubbling to the surface, threatening to burst. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, opening your eyes to look up at him. “I just didn’t see any other way.”

“I know.” His voice is gentler now, calmer. He helps you straighten up, taking a tentative step and watching as you take one too. He walks slowly, making sure not to rush you, keeping an eye on your every move. “I’m sorry too,” he says. “What you do…you just scare me sometimes.”

You hope he doesn’t see the tear that slips out the corner of your eye and down your cheek. “I scare myself. I still can’t control my powers. I know I’m a monster.” You can see the bike in the distance, so you take another step, but Logan stops. “I just feel so inside out sometimes, like I can’t be comfortable in my own head never mind my own skin.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” His voice is steady now, firm. His grip around your waist tightens, keeping you in place. “You’re not a monster. You’re beautiful—” He cuts himself off. “What you can do, is beautiful.”

“Then what is it that scares you?” You need to know. 

“You’re just so selfless. What you did back there…” He pauses. “You knew you could die. I saw it in the way you were standing. The way you looked at me. It was reckless.”

He searches your face, your eyes, your lips for an answer. “You’re no better,” you huff out. Logan smirks, guiding you towards the bike yet again. “It’s just what you do when you care about someone.”

“I know.” His lips are pressed against the shell of your ear. “I know,” he repeats. 

He helps you onto the back of the bike, holding your hips as you straddle the seat. His hands linger longer than they should. He squeezes softly before letting go and walking to the front. He straddles the bike himself, grabbing the key from his jacket pocket and turning it into the ignition. The bike springs to life. 

“Hang on, alright?” He calls out over the roar of the engine. You nod against his back, slipping your arms under his jacket and around his waist. He kicks the stand up, and the bike rumbles underneath you as he presses on the gas. You tighten your hold on him as the bike jolts forward. 

You rest your head on his back, letting yourself fold over him completely. He’s warm and solid underneath you. You shut your eyes, too tired to watch the tires speed across the black pavement. Aside from the engine, the tires against the street below, and the wind, there’s no sound. No one around. It’s just you and Logan. Alone. 

You feel him breathe in deeply. “Don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t make it.”  You can feel the words reverberate in his back. “I mean it.”

“But I did,” you say, lifting your head so that you can speak against his ear. “I’m right here.” He hums in affirmation, and you rest your head on his back again. You hesitantly reach your hands under his shirt this time, arms wrapping around him as tight as possible. You know this is pushing the boundaries of your “friendship,” but he doesn’t stop you—doesn’t push you away. He just hums again. “I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur, and shut your eyes. 

“Good.”

The ride back to the mansion isn’t terribly long, and you wish it could’ve been longer. Logan drives the bike into the garage, taking the keys out of the ignition and kicking out the stand. You lift your head, and before you can even think of getting up on your own, Logan is wrapping his arms around your body and lifting you off the seat. 

You let him hold you there for a moment. You try to tell yourself that this is just a hug between friends, that this whole situation is what happens when you care about someone too much. But it’s hard to lie to yourself when you feel so impossibly strongly about someone. 

He drops his arms from your body and silently takes your hand in his. He guides you to the door that leads to the mansion, keeping you close. 

It’s dark once you step inside. Everyone must have gone to bed. It likely took you and Logan five times as long as the jet to get back to the mansion. Quiet fills the halls. There’s not a stir, not a creak, not a step. You can sense that everyone is asleep, or at least in their rooms. 

“Lo?” You whisper. He squeezes your hand. A surge of confidence racks through you. “Can you stay with me?” You’re not quite sure what you mean by that—what you expect him to do if he stays. All you’re certain of is that you don’t want him to leave. 

He nods, leading you up the stairs. “Won’t go anywhere, sweetheart.” He guides you down the hall towards his room. “Let’s get cleaned up, okay?” 

He opens the door and guides you in, shutting it carefully behind him. He lets go of your hand, the sudden emptiness making your palm feel cold. How do people become so important, so quickly? How can someone letting go of your hand hurt so bad when they’re still just a few feet away? You’re not sure, but you know this feeling is dangerous. 

He’s rummaging through his drawers for a few seconds before he pulls out a t-shirt and places it on the dresser in front of him. He grabs another set of clothes, closes the drawer, and carries them over to you. He extends the shirt out to you, a soft smile playing on his lips. That’s what he is right now: soft. You’re not used to this side of him. 

You take the shirt from him, smiling back. “You should shower. You can use mine.” His head tilts towards the bathroom on the other side of his room. You nod and pad over, opening the door, turning on the lights, and closing the door behind you. 

You keep moving, undressing and turning the water on. It doesn’t take long for the water to heat up, the steam fogging every inch and surface of the room. You step inside the shower, letting the water run down your body. Your eyes fall closed while your mind searches for some kind of peace. You try to recall what Charles often told you: Calm your mind. But it isn’t working this time. Your mind is racing. 

You envision Logan’s angry, fearful face; his concern and panic. Charles’s call that it would be too dangerous echoes and reverberates. You see yourself dead on the ground, Logan holding your lifeless body in his arms. Even worse, you find yourself imagining that it didn’t work at all—that you couldn’t save the team, never mind yourself. This time it’s Logan’s body you see, on the ground, dead. Just like that, your whole world can slip out of your hands and turn to nothing. 

Choked sobs escape your throat as you let yourself fall to your knees. There’s a piercing, splitting pain somewhere deep inside your head. These visions, these feelings, this pain—it’s physical and mental. And it’s too much. It’s not the first time you’ve had visions like these after a fight or a mission, but it is the worst episode yet. 

There’s a knock on the door, followed by Logan calling your name. You try to answer, but your voice is caught in your throat. Logan knocks harder, but you still can’t speak. “I’m coming in!” The door swings open and his eyes widen as he sees your crumpled form on the shower floor, face stained red with tears. 

He shoves the shower door open, practically cracking the glass in the process. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of how naked you are, but it’s clear Logan isn’t. His gaze is trained on your face. “I-it happens, sometimes,” you stutter, reassuring him that this is normal. “A-after missions.”

Logan’s shoulders relax, his eyes softening with understanding. “I know what you mean.” His hands come up to your arms, rubbing gently. “Let me help you.” He gestures with his head toward the shower. You nod and watch as Logan takes his shirt off. He stands to take off his jeans, and you look away, taking the moment to force yourself to stand. You hear him step into the shower and slide the door shut behind him. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, swallowing harshly. 

Logan stands behind you, less than a foot away. The shower is just big enough for the two of you. “Nothing to be sorry for. Just let me take care of you.” 

“Okay,” you whisper. You hear him shuffle a bit, squeeze a bottle, and shuffle a bit more. 

“Can I touch you?” He asks. 

“Y-yeah,” you answer. You wonder if he can hear how fast your heart is beating. But before you can think about it too much, his hands come up to your wet hair. He massages shampoo into your scalp, his fingertips scrubbing ever so gently. You feel your shoulders settle—your body relax. No one has ever done anything like this for you before. 

You watch as the dirt trickles down your body to the drain. After a few moments of massaging, Logan nudges you forward a bit, and you take the hint to step under the water fully. You close your eyes as he scrubs the shampoo from your hair. 

When he’s done, he removes his hands from your hair and slides them down to your neck, and then to your shoulders. You step away from the water, almost bumping into his chest in the process. 

“’M’sorry,” you mumble. 

“No more apologizing, darlin’.” His hands come off your shoulders. You feel lost without the contact. You listen as the bottle pops open again, and Logan quickly scrubs the shampoo into his own hair. You instinctively step forward to let him rinse, and he does.

You take a deep breath, trying to concentrate and calm down now that his hands aren’t on you. But it doesn’t last long. He opens another bottle, pouring more liquid into his hands. 

He rests his hands on your shoulders again. You can feel the body wash run down your arms. “Can I…” Logan trails off, his hands firm, unmoving until you give the word. 

“Mhm,” you hum. His hands start to work the soap into your arms, up to your neck, your collarbone, stopping just above your chest. “Logan,” you murmur, letting yourself lean into him. You feel his heart beating against your back. His breath fans over your shoulder.

You can tell he’s losing his composure, the way he slouches around you, inviting you in. This isn’t something friends do. You two aren’t friends. This is something more. 

And he knows. 

“There’s no coming back from this,” he whispers, his lips at your temple. “If we do this.”

You push back further into him. “Who says I’d want to go back?”

Your back is suddenly met with the cold shower wall, your chest flush with Logan’s. His lips press into yours, swallowing your moans as his hands come up to your breasts, pinching your nipples lightly. He moves down your body quickly, leaving a trail of kisses down your jawline, your neck, the center of your chest, your stomach, stopping just above your clit. 

“Relax,” he soothes, his thumbs brushing your hips. He spreads your legs with the palms of his hands before pressing a kiss to your clit. You shudder at the feeling, whispering his name and throwing your head back. 

He licks a long stripe up your cunt, landing on your clit, taking it into his mouth and sucking roughly. He laps at you hungrily, like a man starved. One of his hands resting on your hip comes down in between your thighs, experimentally sliding through your folds, teasing your entrance. 

It feels so good, but you want him—need him—closer. He inserts two fingers, gently pumping in and out, flicking your clit with his tongue at the same time. 

“Logan,” you whine. You look down at him, his head buried in your cunt. He looks up at you, his eyes wide and filled with lust. You’re already close. But it’s not enough “Need you, now. Want you here.”

“I’m here,” he mumbles against your core. You’re shaking, melting underneath him. 

“N-need you,” you beg again. “Please.” 

He sucks on your clit one last time before removing his fingers from your cunt and standing up to meet you.

His hands rest on either side of your head. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of him. “Are you sure you want this?” His voice wavers just a bit, a slight tremble shaking the usual steadiness of his words. He looks down to your lips and back up to your eyes—his jaw working, as if he’s searching for a sign that you’ve changed your mind—that you don’t want him anymore. 

But you’ll always want him. You always have. 

“Y-yes,” You stutter. He wraps one hand around the back of your neck and uses the other to hoist one of your legs around his waist. His hard cock rubs against your stomach as he moves to line up with your entrance. 

“Wanted you this whole time, pretty girl.” He thrusts into you, sinking down to the hilt. He stays there for a moment, pulling you into him, his free hand grabbing your ass and picking you up so that both legs wrap around his waist. 

He uses the wall as leverage, fucking you into the tiles at your back. Once he’s sure you’re stable against him, his hand leaves your ass and comes in between your bodies, searching for your clit. He begins to stroke, drawing perfect circles there, while his cock hits that sweet spot inside you. 

It’s perfect, everything about this moment is perfect. It all feels so good. You moan his name, his hips rutting into you over and over again.

“Doing so good for me,” he husks, biting the skin just under your jaw, licking the spot where your pulse point is, peppering kisses there. You wonder if he does it because it’s a reminder that you’re still here, still alive, still breathing. “Taking me so well, sweetheart.” 

His words work to coax you off the edge, each swipe of his fingers and thrust of his cock bringing you closer to your orgasm. “L-Logan,” you stutter, his name—him—the only thing in your normally noisy mind. This is what peace is. This is the calm you’ve been searching for your whole life: it’s him. 

You can feel his pace growing faster, his cock pushing deeper, stretching you out as he plunges into you. “You feel so fucking good,” he groans, kissing your pulse point again. “So fucking beautiful.” 

Your walls flutter around him, your clit becoming overstimulated and sensitive as he flicks roughly. You’re so close. “Lo—” but you can’t find the words. 

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he mumbles, his forehead pressing to yours. “Want you to look at me when you come. Can you do that for me?” 

You moan a yes as he buries his cock deep inside you, before pulling out and pumping back in again. 

You can feel your eyes growing heavy, but you keep them open, watching Logan as he pulls your orgasm from you. “That’s it. I’ve got you.” His words, the bass of his voice, him, it all sends you over the edge. He works you through it, still circling your clit, his pace growing sloppier as he chases his own orgasm. 

You wrap your legs tighter around his waist. He knows what you want. “Inside,” you whisper. 

“Oh f-fuck,” he moans, coming inside you, filling you up. 

His thrusts begin to slow, his hand leaving that space between your bodies. You feel like air, weightless, drunk off the way he makes you feel. He carefully slips out of you, but he doesn’t put you back down on the ground. He simply readjusts, picking you up in his arms and carrying you out of the shower. 

He sets you down on the bathmat and crosses the tiled floor to the towel rack, where two towels conveniently hang. He wraps one towel around his waist as he strides over to you. He starts to dry you off, rubbing you gently, kissing each spot he dries as he goes. He’s worshipping you, taking care of you. No one has ever taken care of you like this. 

Once he’s finished, he wraps you up in the towel, and picks you up again. He carries you back into his room, resting you gently on the already turned-down bed. He crawls in after you, discarding his towel in the process. You toss your towel to the side, too. You nestle in under the covers, and Logan does the same. 

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. You can feel that peace again, that calm from before, when he was buried inside of you. It was him. It was always him. Your mind is quiet, no longer all loud and inside out. 

“I’ve got you,” Logan whispers, his legs tangling with yours. 

You bury your face into his chest. “Don’t let go.” But you know you don’t need to ask. 

His mind is already made up. 

“Never will.” 

[beautysamour]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟑: 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬

— 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

“Why?” Your boyfriend looked at you with a raised brow, two silicone toys in each of his hands.

You let out a shaky breath, the entire situation making it difficult for you to breath. You weren’t sure how Miguel was going to react when you brought using toys during sex—he’s always been the type to prefer using himself to make you cum, he took pride in it.

He straightens his back, “If I haven’t been making you feel good—“

“That’s not it,” you interrupt, taking one of the vibrators out of his hand, “I just thought it’d be fun to try,” suddenly you couldn’t look him in the eye, “a—and mj got it for us as a gift, it’d be rude to give it back after accepting it.”

You peek up at Miguel and find him looking at the sex toy in his hand. You hold your breath hoping that he’d—

“Alright. Are these the only ones?”

Without realizing it, your back straightens and your eyes have a sudden glow in them that was dulled by the previous nervousness, “For now, yeah.”

He chuckled at your wording, you planned on getting more?

“Great,” he sticks out his hand with the vibrator on his palm, “We can try these out after the dinner, yeah?”

Your body deflates at his words. After dinner? You can’t promise you’ll be able to wait that long, not with the other vibrator in your possession.

Well, that’s only if you stayed here.

He leans forward attempting to press a kiss on your forehead before his body falls against yours, his eyes fall down to your hand gripping onto his tie as he stops his tip with a hand against the wall.

His eyes flicker to yours seeping with confusion, “What was that for?”

You hum innocently, questioning his question.

Suddenly you release your grip on his tie, softly patting it against his chest as you smooth out the wrinkles. “You might be gone long—no—you will be gone long,” you rest your other hand on his chest, and start tracing circles with the vibrator on his left tit, “and the dinner will get rather boring pretty quickly.”

You lean up on your tippy toes, pressing a kiss against his jaw, “And the house gets lonely without you,” you press another kiss along his jaw, “And I’ll get bored—“

“Ok,” Miguel roughly breathes out, his large hands rest on your hips—the other vibrator still in his hand, “Do you want to come with me then?”

You smile. “I’d love too.”

;;

“I understand, Mr. O’Hara, but with the recent hit the industry took…”

You gripped onto Miguel’s hand as your vision went blurry, “Mig…Miguel,” you bite your tongue hoping the suppress the moan that nearly came out.

The coworker who was talking turned his head to you, “Oh, Mrs. O’Hara? Is everything alright?”

Your grip strengthened around your boyfriend’ hand as sweat started to trail down your throat and your pussy clenched around the toy.

“Mrs. O’Hara?”

You forced yourself to look up, to look at the coworker, and to speak. Your lips, both of them, trembled as they opened—a moan sitting prettily on the tip of your tongue.

“A—I—“

Your boyfriend was so sweet, so loving, and so attentive. He knew you were close, you just needed a little more, and he was more than happy to help you out. Especially when you were so obviously struggling to get any noise out of your mouth.

He played with the remote in his other hand under the table, pretending to look at you with worry in his eyes as a beautiful moan rips out your throat.

You pray that when you get up there won’t be a puddle of cum.

“Uh—uhm—Mrs. O’Hara—?”

“Pardon me,” Miguel heroically interrupts as his holds your close to his, “My wife isn’t feeling well, could you excuse us for a bit?”

“Oh—of course, yes.” The coworkers all move out of the way, making a clear path for the both of you to go through.

You cling onto him as you try to stand up, your legs tremble as you take your first step. “Miguel,” you breath out, “Ca—can we go, ah, home?”

You close your eyes, your over sensitive pussy is able to track every movement the little toy inside of you makes—it makes you pull away from Miguel, you’re body acting as it would whenever he’s in you.

Your heart breaks a little when you hear him laugh—and your legs nearly give out as the toy goes up to its next setting, “Miguel!”

He ignores your cry, maneuvering you around the tables until the bathrooms are right in front of you. He hums a tune, almost mockingly, as he opens the family bathroom, “Come on tesoro, get in.”

An almost heart wrenching whine leaves your throat as Miguel locks the door. You fall to the floor and your mouth opens, a silent moan comes out as you cum on your drenched underwear. Your back arches as the toy never stops it’s movement.

Miguel tsks as he kneels next to you, “What’s wrong cariño,” he feigns innocence, “Doesn’t it feel good?”

“Can’t,” you choke out, “Ca—can’t!”

He holds the remote out, purposely putting in the your line of sight. He twirls it around his fingers, “You said you wanted to go home? Thought you wanted to come with me, tesoro.”

You grind your pussy against the cold floor as you feel your body start to heat up.

“Miguel,” you cry, “Why are you being mean?”

You lean into his touch as his hand cups your cheek to make you look at him. He looks at you, eyes soft as he rubs your cheek.

You turn your head to press a kiss on his palm, stupidly taking this act from him as kindness.

Your head drops immediately, tighs pressing against each other as the vibrations in your pussy get more intense.

“F—fuck.”

Miguel presses a kiss to the top of your head as he watches you crumble underneath him, “Sorry tesoro, but you’re just so pretty like this.”