#or mainly be prior tags

[you-inspire-me]

Hi! I don’t know who you are, but if I reblogged something on your blog, I like it a lot! Especially if you made it omg thank you for bringing your art into the world. It inspires me and it’s got life to it and and I want to save it here and share it and show people and stuff! You’re awesome for making it!

(And if it’s not yours then still - thanks for introducing me to it!)

All art here is of course the property of its respective creators.

[scalpho]

tbk fusions because watching steven universe wires one's brain a certain way. thanks as always to @cledubs and @nenekkasa for chatting about these freaks with me

[murmurmurl]

I actually find gender swapping characters really interesting (what part of their expression is dictated by gender norms vs certain events in their life vs their personal preferences that wouldn't change either way, etc.) so now I wanna draw what that would look like in my ocs except I am in pain rn so I'm forced to just lie there and be plagued by visions

[goldentigerfestival]

Forgot to post this earlier but I did in fact comb the entire Vesperia script to determine how many times he uses ま/まあ throughout the game, along with a few other phrases he uses repeatedly. This counts all of main story, every single sidequest, and every single skit in the game.

Final counts were:

ま/まあ: 279

Ma/Maa; translates to "well". He uses this at the beginning of a sentence usually, but it's sometimes in the middle. "Ma" is usually more quick and snappy. "Maa" is more thoughtful and/or prolonged. Obviously it can vary based on context, but that's the general breakdown.

んじゃ and any variants: 133

Nja, along with variants such as "ja", "soreja", etc. Variants are counted when they're all used to express "let's get going", when they're about to head off ("ja" could be used in a sentence such as "ja/but then, why is xyz like this", etc). They encompass translations such as "well then" (let's get going implied. includes "so then", "then" "alright then", and so on), "we should be off", "let's get going", "let's go", etc. (not to be confused with 行こう(ikou), 行くぜ, (ikuze), and other similar versions of this phrase. That can also mean "let's go", but any instances of Yuri using that particular phrase was not counted because it wasn't a variant of, specifically, んじゃ, which is also his most common "let's go" ja variant).

おい / おいおい: 66

Oi/Oi oi; translates to "hey"/"hey, hey", though "oi" is more or less an accepted word in English nowadays.

おっと: 12

Otto (not to be confused with "oto", referring to sound); an expression of surprise that can translate roughly to "whoa there" (which is the most common translation I do see for it and what I'd use in most cases too, context of course varying). The reason I included this one despite it being so seemingly low in number is because it's not a particularly common expression, much less one used multiple times by a single character? It's so rare from anyone else, which is just a regular thing relative to Yuri and his dialogue/speech (i.e. most characters sparingly use phrases repeatedly, as compared to Yuri... as you can see lol. Other characters use these words/phrases, but nowhere near as regularly, if regularly at all).

Realized along the way I should've included やれやれ (yare yare, "good grief", "oh dear", "oh boy" etc), but by the time I realized I should have in case it was an interesting count, I was too far into the script to be able to handle going all the way back through it LOL.

No. No, I am not joking that Yuri used ま/まあ 279 times throughout the course of the game. That is to say, it could be more if I missed any, but on the assumption I didn't, that's where it stands.

Why do I love this so much? Because it's a very specific character quirk of a character I adore. I'm very fond of his repetition. Thank you.

[vicontheinternet]

I know this is late and old news but I would not have ever let Tyla go onto the breakfast club. Like just no

[rpftourney]

Best RPF Ship - Round 2 Match 21

Propaganda under cut

Bojere propaganda

BoJere Propaganda:

I truly don’t even know where to begin, so I’ll give the high-level overview:

Two Eurovision contestants from 2023. Jere is from Finland, Bojan is from Slovenia. Two countries that never had any prior reason to really interact. I am certainly going to miss things, because there is simply too much, but they met at the Madrid pre-party and this is where their ESC journey began.

ESC:

Bojan skipped an interview with his band to go on a livestreamed lunch date with Jere in Liverpool. They reenacted Jack lifting up Rose on the Titanic on a boat party. Jere also proposes to Bojan with snus (chewing tobacco).

Sitting next to one another on a bus of contestants and Jere calling Bojan his boyfriend, per the Justin Bieber song of course, which then Bojan began to sing. Jere also joked that they’re sharing one hotel room, one bed, one cup of tea. In another clip somewhere else, Jere also called Bojan his puppy while Bojan fed him a piece of candy.

During the Nordic night of ESC, where usually other competitors aren’t typically given access, Bojan and some other Joker Out guys sneak in to watch Jere perform.

For some reason they also have a baby seal together in the Austria zoo.

When asked about his friendship with Jere, Bojan said that he’s glad he can be there for Jere because with all the attention and pressure that Jere was getting, and he wanted to be someone who Jere can hang out with to help take the pressure and his mind off things.

During the 2nd semi-final, Jere watched Joker Out perform and had an IG story tagging JO, but writing just “Bojan <3” He also sent Bojan a voice memo after that was dripping with affection about how happy he was that they all made it to the final.

After Jere placed 2nd, Bojan was right there to comfort him. He surprised Jere by wearing Jere’s iconic green bolero and chanting Cha Cha Cha at him, hyping him up. Bojan also ended up ditching his own band and partying all night with the Finnish delegation—even losing his phone and missing his flight the next morning.

Post-ESC 2023:

Bojan visited Jere in Finland and performed as a special guest at one of his concerts. They also hung out, got drunk as hell and chanted Cha Cha Cha at like 4AM in a parking lot together, and Bojan stayed at Jere’s place where on their last night together, they watched Twilight. Oh, Bojan also gets on his knees on stage so Jere can ride his back during a part of the song and makes a very questionable expression on his face. “My Heart Will Go On” is played in an instagram story when Bojan leaves for the airport.

Joker Out does a Nordic tour in the Fall of 2023 which, of course, includes Finland. They hit up several cities and Jere accompanies them in their Finland tour bus. He and Bojan are insufferable with their inside joke of “ARE YOU!?” at one another. Jere also performs as a special guest in their Finland shows where he AND Bojan sing Cha Cha Cha TOGETHER. They also hold an IG Live with Jere and Joker Out where Bojan makes Jere guess the meaning of the Serbian word “ljubav” which… means Love.

Bojan’s dirty underwear was left at Jere’s. We know this because Jere makes an IG story roasting him about it. This means that, at some point before leaving Helsinki, Bojan stayed with Jere while the rest of the band stayed at a hotel.

Oh also Bojan calls Jere the nickname “Jerć” now.

Joker Out is pretty much adopted by the Finnish as their son-in-laws. Joker Out’s song, Carpe Diem, has only gone gold in Finland.

We find out also Jere was supposed to go visit Bojan when Joker Out were in London for a little bit writing music, but he wasn’t able to make it.

2024:

Joker Out visits Finland again in March. They all go bowling together, but footage is mainly of Bojan and Jere being fools. They recreate the snus (chewing tobacco) proposal. Jere also goes to their Estonia concert as a guest.

For some reason on Jere’s setlist, there are sometimes pictures of Bojan in the corner.

Joker Out is, once again, in Finland for Ruisrock music festival in July. It’s short, but the Bojere shenanigans still happen. (Can you tell I am getting tired and I haven’t even scratched the surface.) During Joker Out’s concert, Jere is standing off to the side of the stage watching. Bojan, FOR REASONS WE DO NOT KNOW, decides to randomly run off to the side during an instrumental break of a song, HUG JERE, and then run back on stage.

Bojan teases in an interview at a different festival that “someone is coming to visit Slovenia” at some point and that he and Jere “talk a Lot on the phone.”

They are now alone in Cyprus, just Bojan and Jere, on a resort vacation. Together. They’re hanging out by the pool. Doing karaoke. There was a flaming heart on the ground. The only purpose of this vacation is to truly, genuinely, hang out together it seems.

For those interested in seeing the actual insanity on a more in-depth level, here is a 2 hour YouTube video of their journey through the beginning to the end of August 2024: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hoPWTs1-DmQ

VirtueMoir propaganda

[bring-forth-his-sac]

maybe some fluff and smut w negan where reader has scars/self harm scars and reader is like looking at them thinking about the past and negan cheers her up😋 also he’s like aggresive in bed but is sweet outside all that. also maybe some aftercare included too

thank you so so much for requesting (and for your patience!) I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Post Whisperer War Negan x f!reader

Tags: mentions of self harm, mentions of suicidal thoughts, cunnilingus, rough sex, pet names, swearing, dirty talk, aftercare

Word Count: 3.5k

The voices around you blend into a monotonous rhythm. At this point in the community meeting, they shouldn’t be surprised people are beginning to zone out as they rehash the same talking points over and over again. 

You try to force yourself to focus but it’s a losing battle. The gist of it, as Negan so eloquently said to you the other day is “At this rate, the only thing that’ll be on the menu is regret, served with a big glass of desperation… but hey, if we gotta start cannibalising each other, I have no problem eating you out”. 

That last part earned him a scoff and quick slap to the arm.

Gathering in the heart of what was once the thriving community of Alexandria, the aftermath of the Whisperer's rampage is visible everywhere. Ruined homes, scattered debris of what was once vibrant greenhouses and the scarcity of resources cast a shadow of uncertainty over everyone.

“Gabriel is already working on the vegetable patches,” Rosita takes over “but we need food. Now. So I say we raid the old military base not too far from here. We can round some people up and scavenge through there in a few days time. Daryl’s out there now, seeing if it’s worth it”.

You sit quietly on the porch steps to one of the only houses left habitable, staring down at the scars that map your hands and lead up one of your forearms.

It’s been a while since you’ve truly stopped and studied each one, every line acting as a reminder of a time when pain felt like the only answer. 

You trace the lines with your fingertips, the blurry memories of these desperate moments slowly coming back to you. Back then, it was a release and the only way to stop the chaos swirling inside your mind. You remember the fleeting relief that followed, how it dulled the aching inside, if only for a moment. 

In a twisted way, it’s quite funny. You’ve fought so hard to stay alive since the dead began to rise and yet you would still do this, still hurt yourself.

How ironic.

You let out a small sigh, shifting your gaze up to watch Rosita again and pretend like you’re listening. 

It’s been a long time since you’ve self harmed or even had those thoughts. It feels dangerous to think about though, as if thinking back to those memories is like walking a tightrope of temptation. 

“If you’re interested in going to the military base, talk to me or Carol about it,” Rosita begins to finally wrap up the meeting “if not, then go speak to Gabriel or Aaron about helping with the rebuild. We gotta all work on this, no slacking. That’s the only way Alexandria can survive”. You nod vaguely to her words and thankfully, the meeting ends. 

As everyone disperses, you stay seated on the porch steps. Your mind feels foggy as it struggles to fully return to the present moment.

Thoughts of the past continue to tug at your consciousness, lingering like a bad smell. A sigh escapes your lips as you run a hand down your face, your eyes immediately going back to the scars that litter your arm. 

“You buffering or something?” The question completely catches you off guard, the deep voice coming from behind you. 

You already know who it is, of course you do, especially since you’re one of the only people he ever approaches— mainly because he knows you won’t tell him to fuck off… without good reason.

“I can’t just sit and enjoy the view?” you bat back, your prior feelings instantly getting masked with a facade of sass. 

Negan leaves the safety of the doorway now that it’s just the two of you. He grunts softly as he sits beside you, looking out at the remains of Alexandria.

 “... what view?” he asks dryly.

You roll your eyes. “Jackass” you curse him playfully.

He watches you out of the corner of his eye for a few moments, silently debating how to go about this. “You catch everything that was said in the meeting?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

Negan doesn’t exactly understand why but he always finds himself drifting over to you, his gaze flickering between you and whatever he’s supposed to be paying attention to. And the past few minutes of the meeting has been a very obvious case of depressive daydreaming, something he’s seen you slip into every once in a while.

“Hm? Yeah,” you shrug casually, glancing over at him.

He waits, wondering if you’ll crack and open up on your own. When you don’t, he tries again.

“You got notes written out on the lines on your arm?” Negan gestures to your scars, being as blunt as possible about it. 

Automatically covering your arm with your other hand, you shoot him a glare. Negan has always somehow toed the line, knowing how direct he can be without upsetting you too much. 

He doesn't push; he simply tests the waters before backing down and letting you take the lead. Negan quickly put his hands up in surrender. He knew there was no easy way of mentioning your scars but the sooner he addresses it, the sooner you’ll talk. 

He’s expecting a slap or to be cussed out for mentioning it but instead, you stand and march into the house.

It’s your natural reaction to flee the second someone mentions your scars, something you’ve done even when others simply looked in the direction of your arm.

He groans out your name, instantly standing to follow. “Don’t just walk off,” he follows you inside, silently thankful that the house is empty, everyone else out working for the day “you know I didn’t mean it like that… well, you know I didn’t mean to offend ya”.

You pause, debating with yourself on what to do. You opt to look down at the floor, unsure how to feel about the sudden confrontation.

"Listen, I get it. I saw ya eyeballin’ your arm for half the meeting and not to get all mushy and shit, but those scars don’t define you” Negan's expression shifts, giving way to something more sincere. He steps closer, his tone dropping to a softer register.

“They’re not a mark of weakness or worthlessness or whatever bullshit you tell yourself. They show you survived. You’ve got grit and I admire that more than anything.” He reaches out, gently grasping your chin to tilt your face toward his.

Despite every inch of you wanting to run again, you look up. The warmth in his eyes is undeniable and as much as you want to sink further into your defences, you can feel them slowly melt away.

You've always been a fortress in life, sturdy and unyielding. Every brick laid was a lesson learned, or another wound healed. 

You've perfected the art of keeping people at arm's length, never letting them see the cracks that run beneath the surface. In today’s world, vulnerability feels like a foreign language and one you've continuously avoided speaking.

“And if you ever need to remind yourself just how strong you are,” Negan continues, dropping his hand back down to his side “I’m right here, darlin’” 

You smile at his valiant offer and before you can stop it, you slowly open up “I just… sometimes, even when I don’t want to do those things again, I still think back to it. It’s like I’m reminiscing… and it can be hard to decipher whether my brain is thinking back because I want to be back there again or because I’m relieved I’m not…”. 

You brace for the impact, scanning for the possible retreat in Negan’s eyes but instead, you see nothing but understanding.

“You don’t think I feel like that now that I’m a supposed free man?” He asks softly “Even now, there’s still days —usually when I get the hundredth dose of stink eye thrown towards me— that I wonder if I’d be better off disappearing back into that cage. Even though I fuckin’ hated being in there!”. 

A strange sensation almost overwhelms you. The tension in your shoulders strangely ease and for the first time in ages, you're both not just survivors forced to endure; you're simply you and Negan is simply Negan.

Both of you flawed, real, and human. In his presence, vulnerability seems like less of a burden and more of a shared strength.

The air crackles with unspoken words and electric energy. You can almost taste the bittersweet mix of apprehension and desire. It's suffocating and you know you need an escape… but not by running away. 

As you look into his eyes, something shifts within you. The world outside fades and all that matters is in this room. Right now, you want to cast aside any doubts and just embrace the thrill. 

In a quick move, you step closer to him, invading his personal space. The sombre glint in Negan’s eyes transforms into something deeper.

Without thinking, you reach for him, fingers brushing against his arm and igniting a spark that sends a shiver through you both. Surprise flickers past his face before that signature grin breaks through, wide and knowing. 

You lean in closer, your voice barely above a whisper. “This has all been… a lot…” you begin, unsure how exactly you’re about to say this “and I think… I think I might just need—“

Negan doesn’t give you time to finish that sentence, your urge towards him telling him all he needs to know.

In one swift motion, he pulls you flush against him, his lips finding yours in a kiss that ignites a wildfire of emotion. It’s a blend of urgency and tenderness, a collision of passion that leaves you breathless. 

It’s dizzying, the way he makes you feel seen, even if it’s just for this heartbeat in time. You let yourself be swept away, surrendering to the connection that pulls you both together.

“Oh I know exactly what you need“ Negan mutters against your lips.

You pull him into another bruising kiss before egging him on further “Then show me”.

That’s all Negan needs, your request allowing him to let loose. Capturing your lips in another kiss, he slowly begins moving forward, forcing you back until you hit against a table. He grabs your waist and lifts you up onto it, his hands immediately going for the zip of your pants.

He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “You just sit back,” he instructs, pleased as you lift your hips and let him tug down your jeans, not stopping until they’re on the floor beside him “let me take care of everything, baby”.

In an instant, Negan is kneeling between your thighs, pressing soft kisses along both legs. You can feel the warmth gather at your core, immediately wanting to welcome every inch of him.

“Ready to turn off your brain for a bit? Hmm?” Looking up at you through his eyelashes, Negan places a gentle kiss on your clothed pussy. 

He tries not to smirk as he feels your pussy pulsing desperately for him. Letting out a whimper, you nod.

“Ah ah ah,” Negan tuts, his tone as soft as it can be despite his scolding words “you made me wait a long fuckin’ time to show you a good time, you damn well know I’m not going to dig in until I hear you say it”. 

“Fuck– Negan, yes,” you say breathlessly, glancing at the door as you do “please, I want you”. Even with how exposed you are, your mind is too hazy to care about the possibility of someone walking in. All your attention is on Negan’s breath that’s only a mere few centimetres away from your soaked pussy.

Kissing you through your panties again, Negan hooks a finger around the fabric and slowly pulls it to the side, carefully revealing his gift.

Without a second thought, he buries his face between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips firmly to keep you from squirming away. 

You gasp loudly, not expecting so much contact so quickly. You bite your lip to quieten your moans but it’s no use.

He looks up at you with his mouth full of your pussy, his eyes gleaming with desire. He sucks harder, his tongue flicking rapidly against your clit. 

He releases his hands from your hips to rub your ass, pulling you against his face. Mumbling against your most sensitive area, a shiver runs up your spine as he compliments “Mmm, best fuckin’ meal I’ve had in years.”

Your legs quiver as you get closer to the edge, your core helplessly clenching around nothing as he eats you out. He’s determined, you’ll give him that. And the one thing Negan wants now more than anything is to taste your release on his tongue.  

“Come for me, doll” he growls encouraging, his stubble scratching your inner thighs. 

With a series of whines and moans for more, you let go.

He keeps his face between your thighs, lapping up your essence as you come undone. Negan waits until you've stopped convulsing before he lifts his head up, wiping your gleaming juices away from his mouth with the back of his hand.

He grins up at you, happy with his work. “Well, you wanted me…” he trails off purposefully, taking a moment to plant a kiss on your leg before giving a slight tug at your panties that are still pushed out of the way “so now you’re gonna get me”.

Negan hurriedly unbuckles his pants as he stands, freeing his hard cock and giving himself a few strokes, precum already dripping from the tip. Working in tandem, you yank down your panties and drop them next to your jeans. 

Before your panties have time to hit the floor, Negan’s kissing you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. You immediately wrap your legs around his waist, both of you as impatient at the other.

“This what you wanted, huh?” Negan continues to talk, rubbing the head of his cock against your slick entrance, “this the distraction you were looking for?”.

You speak only in moans, going wild at the sensation of his cock being so close to your centre and yet still so far away from actually being inside of you. 

He cups your chin, making you maintain eye contact as he presses you for an answer “I can’t hear you, sweetness”.

“Please, just do it” you pant, still not over your initial high.

He grins wider at your compliance and slowly pushes into you, his eyes locked onto yours. Your body tenses as he stretches you out in a way that borders on painful. “Negan,” his name leaves your mouth as a haggard breath.

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart, you know you’re ready for it, you can take it” he coos, pushing all the way in before he stops to give you time to adjust.

He groans as he fully sheaths himself inside you, his hips flush against yours. Attempting to be a gentleman, Negan starts slow.

His eyes leave yours, watching as he gradually pulls out. He grunts satisfactorily, filling you to the hilt again. 

“Please,” you whimper “don’t tease”.

Negan chuckles, though his restraint is weakening “Patience is a virtue, darlin’”.

You tilt your head back, the slow force of Negan inside of you making your brain melt. All you want is already inside of you but it’s not enough. This isn’t a time for sweet love making. 

You want to be fucked, plain and simple.

“Yeah and you’re a vice so fuck me already,” you nudge the heel your foot against his ass, trying to make him speed up. Negan smirks again, his ego adoring your words.

The table creaks under you when he picks up the pace, the wet sounds of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the room. 

"You can take it, can’t you? Fuck yeah, I know you can" He captures your mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans as he continues to pound into you. 

You nod desperately, wanting to prove to him that you can take all he’s got to give. He hooks his arms under your knees, spreading you wider and increasing his depth.

His movements become harder and faster, making sure you can feel every inch of him. You yearn it, trying desperately to shimmy your hips on the table to meet each thrust.

Negan pistons into you like a man on a mission, burying his face in by your neck as his hands frantically begin to explore your body. Negan knows he won’t last much longer, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take this opportunity to finally see your tits. 

His hands push up your shirt, hiking it up in a hurry as your bra comes into view. “Wanna introduce me to the girls?” He suggests, his breath coming out in hot pants against your neck.

At this moment, you want everything just as much as he does. Reaching down, you lift up your bra just enough for your breasts to come free.

Even though there’s no rush, it feels as though you don’t have the time to take off your bra properly, feeling that coil tighten in your lower stomach.

His eyes drop to your chest, and he licks his lips hungrily. “Goddamn, just when I thought you couldn’t get any better” Negan cups your breasts roughly, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as he continues to fuck into you. He leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.

“Oh my fucking—” you groan out, interupting yourself with another moan. You grip the edge of the table enough to turn your knuckles white, your whole body feeling overwhelmed.

He releases your nipple with a wet pop and straightens up, his thumb trailing down to your swollen clit.

“C’mon darlin’, I need to feel ya clench around me,” Negan slams into you, his rhythm erratic as he nears his own release “one more time, baby, come for me”. 

Your body convulses as it hits you. Gasps morph into a wave of quick, sharp pants as you clutch Negan any way you can. Feeling your pussy clamp down on his shaft, Negan’s hips sputter to a stop as the contractions send him over the edge with you.

It takes all of Negan’s willpower not to stay exactly how he is; with his dick buried deep inside of you. 

But he knows better and quickly pulls out, releasing his load onto your inner thigh instead. He has to nuzzle his face in by your neck, silencing himself the best he can. The last thing either of you need is Negan to get loud and attract people from outside.

The sound of your mixed breaths fill the room as you both come back to your senses. You look down at the mess on your thigh, wondering how much longer you both have until someone comes looking for one of you. 

“You know what?” Negan breaks the silence, a sheen of sweat across his forehead as he moves to look at you “I think I like it when you open up”. He nudges your legs, a deep chuckling escaping him.

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes “and get me a towel or something”. He licks his lips, his mind already wondering what your next session will be like, subtly noting how much he likes hearing you order him around. 

He nods “Yes ma’am”.

Leaning down, Negan searches the back pockets of his pants before pulling out a small handkerchief.

“Now,” he announces as he gently wipes his cum off of your thigh “my cum rag can become ours”.

“Negan!” You exclaim, your hands busy yanking your bra and shirt back down to push the rag away from you “Don’t use your dirty cum rag on me!!”. 

Negan chuckles, his smile alone keeping your annoyance at bay. “I’m just fucking with ya, it ain’t a cum rag,” he wipes the last drop of himself off your leg “but now that we’ve christened it as a cum rag, I guess that means we'll have to use it again”. 

Negan winks as if you don’t get the obvious insinuation and before you can object, he kisses you. You’re quick to reciprocate, knowing that there’s no way you’d turn down an opportunity like this again.

A faint smirk graces his face as Negan pulls back, pleased with the fact that you returned his kiss.

Taking a moment to compose himself, Negan clears his throat “But seriously, next time you need to talk to somebody, or open up them legs, I’m your man”. 

You smile at the sincerity of his words, knowing he’s completely and utterly serious about both offers. 

Thinking for a moment, you agree “I will”. 

He holds up his pinky “Promise? And then I’ll help you into your jeans?”. 

You scoff as if he’s inconveniencing you by making you a pinky promise but you both know you appreciate the gesture. Lifting your pinky up to his, they hook together.

“Promise”.

And with that, Negan steals one more kiss before helping you back into your jeans.

[shibaraki]

OUT OF MY HEAD, HALF BURSTING ┊ MIDORIYA IZUKU

synopsis: japan’s sweetheart and saviour is in a quirk induced coma. you’re the only one that can bring him back.

tags: GN reader, post canon au, pro hero deku, quirk accidents, fluff + angst, hospitalisation, mutual pining, intimacy, technically doctor/patient but they know each other, friends to lovers, reader has quirk (‘dream walker’), memory/dream sharing, referenced depression, getting together, kissing, cheesy idc idc

wc: 5.2K

In your years wading through patients' memories, you’ve found that people have the most uncanny ability to resign themselves to their fate. You’ve wondered time and time again whether it’s instinctive to ruin things—if humans couldn’t help but stumble and make a mess of the things around them.

You recall that thought process now with a weary sigh, as your eyes skim over the patient's name for the tenth time in as many seconds. Midoriya Izuku.

“Well? Are you gonna do it or not?”

You’ve been staring at the medical file for long enough that an uncomfortable silence has dawned upon your office. Two weeks prior, a villain named Catatonic used her quirk to force Deku into a comatose state, that which he has yet to wake from. Even after the liberal use of quirk inhibitors, countless visits from Eraserhead and the administration of various stimulants, Deku would not stir. Realistically he should’ve roused from the coma naturally as soon as the quirk was cancelled. But he hadn’t, and his doctors can only assume it’s because he can’t, or refuses to.

Thus the case in your lap. A last resort.

“I’ll do it,” you intoned, thumb flicking at the corner of the manila folder. There’s already a deep crease there. The file itself is the heaviest you’ve ever had in your hands. Dense in a way that makes you ache. You and Deku are good friends—the kind of friendship that forms mainly because you frequent the same places. That place in particular being the hospital, except you were there to work, and he was often wandering the hallways listlessly to burn off the dregs of whatever sedatives he’d taken or visiting with patients.

Awkward small talk eventually blossomed into real, fulfilling conversations, and you started to like him, a lot more than you should. You kept the memory of his small, sincere smile close to your chest; nothing like that dazzling grin he wore on duty, it was softer, something private, and you relished being on the receiving end of it.

He was skilled at talking around his injuries. Sometimes if you felt especially bone-weary after a shift you’d be so relieved to see him that you forgot to ask. That sits with you. Deku is a hero. A good one, the best one. He’s brilliant at what he does—keeping people safe, protecting them from harm. In the entirety of his career, it appears he rarely, if ever, turned that care and consideration onto himself. You’re not a licensed therapist, and barely a doctor. Still you contemplate his medical history with a cold sense of regret.

“You realise there’s a large possibility I’ll end up seeing a lot of confidential stuff while I’m in there”.

“Don’t care. S’not like you can tell anyone”.

“I don’t think you understand how invasive this will be. I’ll see personal things. Private things, Bakugo. He won’t be happy”.

“Don’t care. If he doesn’t like it then maybe he should fuckin’ wake up”.

“This might not work, you know,” you finish tiredly.

Bakugo arches his brow at that. Despite the shadows under his eyes there’s no defeated slope to his shoulders, only a fierce scowl. “Either you can do it or you can’t,” he says, voice unsteady as if reeling between rationality and outright aggression. “You’re supposed to be the best at what you do”.

“I am the best at what I do, Bakugo. I can promise you I’ll find him”.

“Then what’s the damn problem?”

The file feels heavier. It feels like a foregone conclusion. You swallow, your throat dry. You don’t bother attempting a smile. You’ve lost the will to maintain your professional veneer.

“I can’t promise he’ll want to come back”.

Dream walker.

At twelve years old you thought it made your quirk sound whimsical, and gentle, and not at all the invasive thing that it actually is. After all, your reach didn’t end only at dreams. You were able to project your consciousness into another’s mind if it pleased you, parse through every memory, ambition, fantasy, trauma and fear, and manipulate them however you liked. Back when your control was non-existent you would drift into people’s heads whenever you slept like some wayward soul and saw far too much far too young.

The need to understand yourself and your quirk is what drove you to studying medicine. Neuropsychology, mainly. You carved meditative techniques into the very recesses of your own brain and learned to keep your consciousness tightly moored but had no real ambition beyond that. After the war and the complete upheaval and reform of hero society, it was difficult to find your place.

Until Okumura Yukiko.

At the small age of eight, Yukiko fell under the effects of a severe nightmare quirk, and despite the quirk being canceled she couldn’t wake up naturally. You had carefully walked through the delicate threads that made up her young mindscape—quirk-infested by formless shadows with knife-sharp teeth and worse, eerie figures that wore the appearance of her father—you found her trembling inside her mothers figmental wardrobe, took her hand, and guided her out.

When you came to she was curled up in the swaddle of your arms, trembling still, but awake. Her timid incantations ring true in your ears even now. Those tiny little thank you, thank you, thank you’s inspired the person you are today. Not quite a doctor, or a therapist. A specialist for special cases.

Something in your gut told you that traipsing into Midoriya Izuku’s mind wouldn’t be simple. That it would permanently change things. This isn’t some stranger, or a patient you’d never cross paths with again. He’s important to you in a way others aren’t.

Your hand hovers over his face, fingertips brushing his temple. You push your fingers into his thick green hair, rich in colour and soft, no knots to catch on your knuckles. His friends have been visiting in shifts, keeping him comfortable and presentable.

Bakugo had managed to keep the Hero Commission at bay for the time being, but if you came back without Midoriya tomorrow there would be far more than one scowling man looming in your office. Though the possibility left a bad taste in your mouth you can admit, in the privacy of your thoughts, that you’ve contemplated prolonging his recovery for the sake of allowing Midoriya rest. There must be something keeping him under, his genuine reluctance or worse; you’ve been reassured repeatedly of All for One’s death and the absence of the previous quirk holders but it’s best to exercise vigilance.

Midoriya does not react, not even a twitch of his nose, but there’s a flutter beneath his eyelids and a sleepy-sweet warmth to him that has you smiling, fond. Tucking your feet around the legs of your chair, you scoot it forward and bend closer, elbows resting on the edge of the hospital bed. “I’m not sure you can hear me in there. Maybe not. But I hope you won’t hate me for this,” you tell him.

Midoriya’s face remains serene as ever—more so than you can remember. It makes you wonder how much pain and discomfort he’s been hiding throughout your interactions. The tension has been sapped from his expression, lashes fanning over his cheeks. You’re close enough to count each individual freckle. Lightly, your thumb taps the space between his brows. “There are a lot of people out here that love you. They’re waiting for you to wake up, so I’ll have to have a look around your head a bit. Okay?”

Nothing. Heartbeat monitor pulsing a healthy rhythm, broad chest rising and falling, Midoriya continues to sleep. You sigh and cast a final glance around the private hospital room. The clock reads 18:22. Outside the window you see a single cloud, wispy as a dandelion, slowly disintegrate across the dusky sky. You make a cradle with your arm, head resting in the crook while you take Midoriya’s hand and try to relax. Anticipation turns in your gut. Years of experience aside, you’ve never really acclimated to the feeling of that first step into another’s subconscious.

Pressure gathers inside your skull as your quirk activates. You inhale a quick, wounded breath at the sensation. Your eyes roll back, vision swallowed by abrupt darkness, and you jerk against the distinct sensation of falling as your stomach roils. You’re overwhelmed by a cacophony of images and sounds—a determination that happiness would come, then moored to the burden of expectation, any optimism muffled under exhaustion and pain, replaced swiftly by a sense of discontent, grief and regret that swelled over time.

And then everything stops.

Your arms feel empty. Your chest feels hungry. You ache with it, the disquieting loneliness. Fog leaks into the memory, surroundings concealed beneath a thick mist. Behind you is a small pond. There’s a notebook soaking in the water. The koi are mouthing curiously at the weathered corners, faint black tendrils of ink curling off the charred pages. Scrawled boldly across the top is ‘Hero Analysis for The Future: No. 13’. Your strikingly young reflection ripples as you plunge your hand in and fish it out, holding it at arm's length as you shake the excess away.

Sufficiently less soaked, you draw the notebook to your front and carefully turn the cover to read the first page. You can feel the slight indentations on the back where a pen has been pressed hard enough to score the words through the page. Written inside, smudged but undeniable, is Midoriya Izuku’s name.

“Uh—excuse me…” a shaky, pitched voice comes from behind you, belonging to a very familiar pair of teary eyes. Midoriya is not just small, he’s scrawny. His hair is longer, unable to decide on which direction it wants to grow, and his middle school uniform is slightly ill-fitting, as though his mother bought it a size bigger for longevity. He ducks into the higher collar to hide his reddened face when you look at him.

The urge to bundle him up and hide him from the world is fierce. The situation is odd, but you offer a smile and his blush worsens. “Is this yours?” you ask, holding up the notebook. You try not to grimace at your own childlike voice. Midoriya nods frantically. His hands flex around the straps of his backpack. Smaller than the broad palms you’re familiar with, neither scarred nor crooked, trembling where they motion to clasp around the notebook. Your fingers brush and he attempts to swallow the yelp that bubbles in his throat.

“Thank you,” he stammers, pressing the notebook flat to his own chest. Midoriya swallows. His gaze never strays from you, growing brighter with each passing second as the idea in his head takes shape.

“Do you go to school here?”

“Oh,” you blink and the shadows have elongated. The pond is now hugging a school building. You recognise it despite never having seen it before. Aldera Junior High. “I don't,” you answer, sounding sorry. He predictably deflates. “I live close by, though!”

Midoriya perks up again. He shifts his weight between each foot. Red faced and unsteady, he quietly asks, “Do you think we could be friends?”

Your mouth slacks a bit, answers dying in your throat. You look down at your hands, palms upturned and unblemished. The dappled sunlight passes through your incorporeal form. Interaction with anything aside from the true patient during your work is incredibly rare though not entirely unfounded; people who daydream in vivid detail or ruminate chronically on old regrets usually had false memories in excess. Their minds seem to naturally meld around your intrusion, but they never went so far as to seamlessly incorporate you. Which can only mean one thing.

You fit because Midoriya has imagined this numerous times before—befriending you as a child.

Before you can respond you’re being dragged abruptly into a memory, the echo of a blinding flash of pain rippling through you. A reflexive gasp has your chest heaving and you curse at your lack of control. There’s barely a shard of light. Behind you is a hard, jagged surface but below is loose, uprooted. Attempts to move are futile, and agonising. You slump into the displaced rubble, silt and icy embrace, and listen. From above there is only a haunting silence but only a few feet ahead you hear muffled crying and Bakugo’s strangely tinny voice.

Your vision adjusts in increments, from pure darkness to a soft outlined blob to a comfortingly familiar silhouette. Midoriya is poised like an Atlantean statue, holding up the creaking structure and keeping it from crushing the young girl cowered in front of him.

Another wave of pain washes over you as the rubble groans. Midoriya bites back a whimper. His body is sinew and bone pulled taut, skin stretched over a drum. Everything seemed to swell dramatically around him.

“We’re almost there, kid. Two minutes,” Bakugo’s voice spills jarringly from the bulky earpiece hugging Midoriya’s ear. “Now look at Deku for me. You lookin’?” the young girl does as he commands. You see her trepidation falter at the easy smile Deku is wearing. “Bet he’s got a big dumb grin on his face right now, yeah?”

“Y—yeah,” she echoes, clutching the dirtied hem of her dress.

“You think he’d be smiling if there was anythin’ to be scared of?”

Her shoulders slant, the tension released, and she offers a tremulous smile of her own, “No”.

But you can feel, quite viscerally, how scared Deku was in that moment. The nauseating pain in his arms has dwindled into numbness and he daren’t spare himself more than the occasional shallow breath, as if the bloating of his lungs alone might disrupt his balance. Not once does his smile falter.

The surroundings warp again. You struggle against the whiplash, flung unwillingly into another memory. Breath forced from your lungs, the echo of Izuku’s pain dissipates in a blink and you land on unsteady feet, coughing and spluttering in the middle of an eclectic café covered in tinsel.

A sign written in cursive above the chalkboard menu reads ‘Mean Mug’. Melodious Christmas music plays quietly overhead, and the bell above the door is soft enough to get lost in the smooth notes. You’re cocooned by heat and met with bold patterned wallpaper. The unifying palette seems to be warm-toned colours; red, orange and brown come together amidst the mismatched decor to create a cosy atmosphere.

A half heartedly disguised Midoriya shuffles awkwardly by the counter, looking up at the door with trepidation every time the bell chimes to signal another customer. He grins once Uravity arrives in a casual disguise of her own, eyes still bright beneath the shadow of his cap.

They order and settle in a quaint alcove away from the windows and any prying eyes. Neither hero notices your presence as you seat yourself at their table and listen to their conversation. There are things you don’t understand. Code words to be used when discussing sensitive matters outside of their agencies. Inside jokes that you weren’t there for. But most curious of all is the knowing look on Uraraka’s face when Midoriya mentions that he saw you at the hospital that day.

“You’re hopeless, Deku-kun,” she says, as fond as she is amused. “What was your excuse this time?”

Midoriya clears his throat. He grips his cup, pressing until his knuckles turn white. It draws your attention to the thin cast splinting his ring and middle fingers together. “I broke my fingers sparring with Kirishima”.

You remember that, though too entrenched in his memory to attempt receding into yours for details.

“So you leapt halfway across the city to have them stuck together despite the fact that your agency has an on-site infirmary,” Uraraka’s hair falls in a gentle swoop beneath her jaw as she laughs. Midoriya shrinks into himself ever so slightly and her eyes soften. She pokes at his forearm. “C’mon Deku—why haven’t you asked yet? Do you really think you’ll get rejected?”

Glancing back and forth between them, your heart beats a tattoo across the inside of your ribs. You feel as if you’ve both missed something quite important and heard too much. You push your chair backwards and fall away from the table, and the memory, before Midoriya can respond.

With renewed determination—and heat rising to your cheeks—you reign in your quirk, steering cautiously through Midoriya’s subconscious mind as you should’ve in the first place. Images flicker in and around your periphery, each as desperate to draw you in as the last.

You see Midoriya crying, bleeding, lashing out in anger. You see him in a sterilised room, lulled by monotonous beeps, flesh stitched back together. You hear the doctor's voices coalesce into white noise. You watch as he’s handed crudely drawn thank you cards, coffee-stained police reports and thick manila envelopes marked as confidential in large red letters.

You turn away as Eraserhead approaches, a solemn expression, a quiet clink accompanying his footsteps, unnaturally heavy to one side, a young girl with silver hair following right behind him.

Your heart leaps to your throat when he screams in agony. You look down. There’s blood running down the street in rivulets, skin coming apart like wet paper.

You close your eyes. Next you risk a glance All Might is there, thinner than ever. He’s sitting in a wheelchair by a large window swaddled in a thick knitted blanket, watching over the city, smiling.

You turn away, feeling a pang of grief. Midoriya is expressionless, examining his battered body in the mirror, condensation still lingering on the glass, tendrils of heat curling upward as the shower drain gurgles.

Then he’s in a dark room bringing a stranger's hand to his mouth, kissing the centre of their palm, drawing the finger into his kiss-bitten mouth and sucking with a hazy gleam in his eyes.

It’s overwhelming. You stumble and suddenly Shouto is eating across from Izuku. He brings his chopsticks to his lips, noodles hung limp between them. “It’s obvious you like each other. You should just confess,” he says before shovelling his food.

Too private. You turn on your heel and find a patient of yours on the bed, unresponsive. Izuku is beside you, muttering under his breath, thumb pressed to the shadow beneath his lip. He reaches back to brush your wrist and offers a tentative touch of reassurance. You watch yourself lean against him for a moment and then retreat, grateful for his consideration, unneeding of it, and desperately wanting it, all at once.

The scene ripples violently. A reporter is staring up at Izuku with sparkling eyes. Her hair cycles through an array of colours as she shakes with excitement. “It’s amazing, Deku-san,” she insists. “For your spirit to be so heroic that it physically steers your body… that’s special!”

Izuku conceded with a strained laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. You feel how his stomach knots. “I used to think so too,” he says, sounding far away.

It’s the middle of the night somewhere when your search finally comes to a halt. You find you’ve landed on an empty street, in that dense, heavy darkness that makes you feel like the only person in the world who’s awake. There’s a tall residential building hugging the pavement. Intuitively, you know this is where Izuku lives.

Your footsteps are made heavy by Izuku’s lingering hurt and exhaustion. It’s disconcerting, the way he feels about his apartment. Coming home should be effortless. People come home in the same way they draw breath. But to Izuku, it's a weary, miserable journey that he must consciously think about and do. His perennial loneliness is overwhelming, a near physical force repelling you from opening the large glass door.

One foot in the lobby and the surroundings undulate. You’re dropped in the middle of his living room. It’s vacant. There’s a large box of case files tucked under the coffee table, an old takeout box left out on the counter, a blanket strewn haphazardly over the couch cushions. You pinch the soft fabric and rub it between your fingers, bringing it to your nose as you’re overcome by the urge to smell it. Izuku’s warm scent floods your senses.

Something thuds outside, followed by a tinkling of keys on a chain. Your blood runs quicker as the front door abruptly opens. Izuku looks harried as he ducks into the genkan, quite visibly frayed. The upper half of his hero suit is unzipped, pushed down to hang over his hips, littered with debris and dry mud. You hold your breath as he kicks off his shoes and lifts his head, meeting your wide-eyed gaze. The air around you is charged. Trepidation prickles at your nape.

Then the shadows over his stormy face recede. Izuku gentles, light returning to his previously empty eyes. “I’m home,” he breathes. “I missed you”. His voice shivers down your spine—you know in your gut that this is him, the real Izuku, but that fact is hard to believe while he’s looking at you like he wants you.

“Welcome home,” you smile back, slipping the blanket around your shoulders as you move toward him. “Hard day at—?”

Your intentions are to sit him down, keep him calm so as not to be ejected, and explain what’s happening, but before you have the chance his larger body crowds you against the wall—the dull impact reverberates through your ribs, knocking the breath from your lungs and he’s kissing you as if it’s something he always does.

Though it’s more of a collision than a kiss. The sensation is indescribable. Information spills into your mouth, your quirk reflexively absorbing his every fantasy, ache and want. Your knees almost buckle. The blanket puddles at your feet. Fingers snake into his thick hair, nails dig into his roots where skin becomes earth as you try to reciprocate his fervour.

Under your tongue you feel the cut on his lip, under your palms the dark swell across his cheek. You shake off the cloud of desire. Too many lines have already been crossed. “Izuku,” you whine. His name comes naturally now; you know him deeply enough. Blunt teeth graze at your jaw, your throat. You lean away for air only to catch a glimpse of another angry ivory-red bruise peeking from beneath his loose collar. “Izuku,” you tried again. Then louder. “Izuku, that’s enough”.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Izuku rasps as he rears up from the crook of your neck with wide, glassy eyes.

“No—I’m,” your heart beats hard in your ears. Dread sinks low in your belly. “It’s me. I’m really here, Izuku. You’ve been away for too long. I had to use my quirk. We need to wake up”.

“Wake up? You’re… oh,” his eyes grow wider, then shutter closed on a shaky exhale. The cut on his bottom lip has started bleeding again. Rivulets seeped into the cracks between his teeth and stained his gums red. You yearn for the searing heat of his hands as he releases you and staggers backwards to scrub at his face. “Oh my god”.

“Wait. Please don’t throw me out,” you say quickly, reaching to clutch at his wrist in case he panicked. Izuku tenses at the contact only to relax a beat later, his fingers spreading over his eyes so he can get a peek at you. “It took me forever to find you here. There’s a lot of stuff in your head”.

“I won’t. I wouldn’t,” he mumbles. You could collapse in relief. He’s not angry, he’s embarrassed.

“Thank you. I promise I tried not to look at anything too private”. Your mind didn’t make it easy, you think. It was almost like he wanted me to see everything.

Izuku groans and lets his hands drop to his sides in defeat, revealing an entirely pink face. You keep your fingers curled around his wrist, his pulse light and fast. “Okay. I’m okay. We should probably sit down for this,” he eventually croaks, a tremulous smile working its way across his lips. “Drink?”

You pick up the blanket and make your way to the couch while he briefly disappears into the kitchen. Around you the apartment takes on a rosy sheen. A dull clink shudders through the silence as Izuku sets a cup on the coffee table in front of you. It’s your favourite work mug down to the smallest details.

“You remembered this old thing?”

Shaped like a cat, the handle curved in and away like a feline’s tail. It’s piping hot, steam already curling up from it like a crooked finger, like the invitation he meant it to be.

Izuku nodded awkwardly, perched so far forward that it stretched credulity to say he was on the couch at all. He tracks your movements with intensity when you lean to pick up the hot drink. The initial sting to your palms quickly dwindles into numbness as you bring it closer and realise what’s inside. Hot chocolate. The surface sprinkled with those small, cube shaped marshmallows that he likes.

You swallow and feel the warmth spread through your body. A smile pulls at the corner of your mouth as the thick, saccharine flavour floods your senses, washing back the bitterness and thawing your anxiety. You can hear the tension in Izuku’s shoulders snap as he slumps forward, arms hung over his knees and head low in relief. His reaction is oddly vindicating, if not contagious.

“How long have I been asleep?” he asks. “Time is weird here”.

“You’ve been comatose for over two weeks,” you reply. “They tried everything they could before Bakugo insisted on bringing me in. You have a lot of people waiting for you”.

Izuku inhales sharply. He makes an aborted motion to scoot closer before thinking better of it. Your attention strays to the nervous wringing of his battle worn hands. Endeared, you put your mug down and close the distance yourself. Pressed thigh to thigh, you envelop his tightly curled fists, bringing them into your lap. The shaky breath he takes is loud in the otherwise quiet room.

“Honestly I’m surprised you’re still working”.

He looks at you with an unsure, watery smile, sunlight caught in glassy eyes. His voice is thick as he asks, “What do you mean?”

You smile sadly and run your thumb over his knuckles. “You’ve been on patrol. I thought you might’ve locked yourself in your head because you needed a proper break—and who could blame you, really. But you’re working yourself thin even in your dreams”.

Izuku huffed a laugh, more breath than humour. “I love being a hero. It’s what I’ve always wanted,” he says, his voice tight. You sink into his side and feel his diaphragm stutter. “But it isn’t everything. It felt like I was suffocating and I needed something more. Something to come home to for a little while…”

His red-rimmed eyes quickly return to his lap when you meet them. “I still can’t believe you’re here. Your quirk really is incredible”.

You can feel the shame swatting at you like a summer-born heatwave, reminded of just how deeply you’ve invaded his privacy, and how easily you overstepped your bounds.

“I’m so sorry,” he continues, at the same time that you tell him, “I’m sorry, Izuku”.

“Please. Let me go first,” he murmurs like a question. You nod your assent. “I’m sorry I forced myself on you. I thought you were a part of my imagination, like the rest of this place. I should have realised you weren’t. I’m sorry,” he rambles on. “I wanted to be closer to you but I got carried away and I’m sorry”.

“You couldn’t have known. I should have told you it was me as soon as you walked in,” you firmly interject. Izuku doesn’t look any less stricken in your periphery, cheek sunken where he’s gnawing at the flesh. “And you didn’t force anything. I hardly pushed you away,” your brow wrinkles and you smile despite yourself. “I got a little lost in your head, too. Not my most professional moment I admit. But I wouldn’t want to leave either, if we were cuddled up in here all day”.

“Really?” Izuku blinks. Hope colours his cheeks. He clears his throat and shifts in place as he tries very hard to appear unaffected. “You don’t think it’s creepy—me picturing all this with you?”

You think of that young boy yoked with the burden of expectation and feel your heart crack. You can still taste his desires. They’re insipid, belying their age, as though they’d lingered long enough to stale. Izuku treasured his friends and fans', their love and loyalty; yet he felt guilty for allowing them to foster such a blind faith in his goodness. He was a man with faults like any other, capable of making mistakes, of inflicting harm. More than anything Izuku longed for someone to see the darker, uglier corners of his life, and make room for all of him. And you wanted to be the one to do it.

“I’ve imagined this with you. This and more,” bolstered by everything you’ve seen, the confession spills out with startling ease. Your eyes squint above the curve of your grin. “I like you too,” you coaxed his fist open as you spoke, mapping out the carved furrows, shallows and depths on his palm. “A lot”.

“Oh,” he exhales, slowly entangling your fingers.

You give an emphatic nod.

“How mad is Kacchan?”

“Pretty mad. But when is he not?” you laugh at his grimace. “I’ll be there as a buffer when you wake up. It’s my professional opinion that you need a few more days to recuperate and take me out for crêpes. So will you come home with me?”

There’s a gleam in his eyes—a combination of warmth and weight that tugs at your chest. His gaze flickers across your face, from your lips to your eyes in askance. You lean in and he kisses you again, sipping gently at your mouth, firm and slightly sticky with congealed blood. Strange. It feels so real. You suppose it is, in all the ways that matter.

“Okay,” he whispers after one last peck to your lips. You get to your feet as he stands and gestures nervously toward the genkan. “I, uh. I don’t really know how to get out of here so… lead the way?”

You laugh and take him by the hand. “Don’t worry. The way home is always a lot faster. It’s a little disorienting—watch your step,” you warn as he follows you through the front door. Rather than the lobby, or a stairwell, both bodies are swallowed up by darkness.

Spat out just as abruptly, your senses return to you piece by piece. Breathing through the vertigo you peel your eyes open to the rapid rise and fall of Izuku’s chest as he reorients himself. A crick in your neck, a knot in your spine. The clock reads 07:12. There are already nurses bustling around the hospital bed, likely alerted by the frantic heart monitor; that which does little to hide the way Izuku’s pulse stutters when you lift your head to get a look at him.

“I’m up,” he says, throat rough from disuse. There’s a shaky smile on his face. “I’m home”.

Your hands are still entwined, albeit a little sweaty. You smile, “Welcome home”.

[dwaekkicidal]

after reading the biting lino thoughts I neeeeeed u to write pliant lino who for onceeeee let's u have ur way with him, like i totally agree he's THE bratty dom but he's feeling generous so he lets u do what u want plsplspls

im so sorry this is so late! i had this in my drafts and completely forgot to post it ><

the og post

lino who, for once in his life, doesn't know what to do with himself when you're sitting on his lap. your pretty lips that are glossy from your combined spit thanks to the heated makeout session you just had. your lips that are also swollen from the constant attention to his pecs, leaving little marks that make him moan quietly and make his dick twitch

he settles his hands on your hips, holding onto the last drops of his dominance as if his life is on the line until he eventually caves. he's so hard and his mind is so foggy from the various hickeys and bite marks that now litter his chest, some of which are even shaped like a heart as if to add more fuel to the fire <3

❥ pliant lino who finds himself sinking into the couch, just one big puddle, as you roll your hips forward and grind onto him. his chest and neck are red as he takes deep breaths, trying to ground himself from your onslaught

❥ pliant lino whose moans turn more high-pitched and whiney as you test the waters, grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head on the top of the couch

❥ pliant lino who doesn't object, doesn't move a muscle, doesn't even blink for that matter. he sits there and lets it happen, his pretty boba eyes glossing over as he stares into your wide ones

❥ pliant lino who keeps his hands where you put them, not moving them an inch as you move your hands to pull his cock out of his boxers, pumping him with two hands.

❥ pliant lino who keens when a fat glob of ur spit drops from your shiny lips and lands right onto his throbbing tip. even more so when the squelching sounds seem to get louder and he cant help but spread his legs more and dig his fingers into where his hands rest, still at the top of the couch

❥ pliant lino who bucks his hips desperately, breathily moaning your name alongside throaty whines of how close he is

❥ pliant lino who, if you choose to edge him, will have the prettiest pleading face youve ever seen. no tears yet but you can see the frustration in his eyes and the twitch from his cock

❥ pliant lino who might even pout with a cute frown if not just make an angry face at you through his heaving breaths

❥ pliant lino who wont beg, especially if its the first time with no prior talk about it, but he wont hesitate to whine loudly and wrap his hands around your wrist, tugging you towards him and silently telling you what he wants and what to do

may or may not go dom mode after that hehe

❥ pliant lino who, if you do let him cum right then, will scrunch his face up and furrow his eyebrows as he cums. whether it be on your hands/face or even down your throat, he's gonna have his head thrown back and those big thighs are gonna squeeze around you with each spurt

❥ pliant lino who wants to touch you in some sort of way while this is going on. its mainly to keep him grounded, but he also craves the affection when his mind is reeling

❥ pliant lino who will lowkey fantasize about you overstimulating him if you ride out his orgasm for a little longer than normal

❥ pliant lino who will quickly feel feral and get a sudden urge fuck your brains out after this kind "present" you gave him

❥ pliant lino who, once you two are laying in bed after the fact, pulls an "i know i said that would never happen but... maybe we should do it again. soon. for... research purposes, yeah?"

i forgot to put my taglist hehe....

Taglists: (red=can't be tagged)

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa

@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams

[stsgluver]

summary. rich boy!gojo's instagram feed

wc. 400

tags. fluff

dynasty [rich boy!au]

lovesick satoru who’s entire instagram feed is you.

he's never been covert with his love in real life, so it's no surprise his online persona is no different.

prior to your relationship, his instagram had been very minimalist - mainly compromised of just highlights. there was only one proper post: a photo of him and geto in suits for an event that they both had drunk too much at to remember. his highlights were organised: one for the stray cats he found, one for the constellations he'd see late at night, and a third of the people he cared for (this one could only be seen by those on his close friends list).

then there is you.

satoru is the first one to publicly launch your relationship - it's a soft launch of you staring up at a waterfall he'd taken you to for your second date. your face isn't visible, and compared to satoru's infamous status, you were relatively unknown so only those who knew the two of you well could identify you properly. he posts that on his story with mitski's 'my love mine all mine' playing in the background and creates a new highlight for you (he titles it 'my girl').

he doesn't post often on his main account but, when he does, nine times out of ten, it's you or a photo you'd taken of him (his spam is daily pictures of your life together of course). for the first time in his life, satoru has found love through his own means and not through his parents so he adores to showing it off (much to his father's dismay - matching onesie pics with his girlfriend wasn't exactly screaming 'heir to the gojo fortune').

although satoru's instagram isn't public, his affluent position in society and popularity does mean that he has several thousand followers to his name (many of which being female). it makes the two of you giggle when one of these said girls tries to slip into his dms despite the fact his account is a literal shrine of his love for you.

in response, he'll add the girl to his close friends and post a picture (usually of the two of you kissing, sometimes just you) to his close friends. once the girl has seen it, he'll block her off of instagram and all other socials she may have contact with him on.

satoru is devoted to you and he wants the whole world to know it.

a/n. this was inspired by @bbyjackie (I LOVE THEIR ONE PIECE WRITINGS SM)

[fanaticsnail]

This is probably asking for much more than you already do and considering the dreaming of you prompt are mainly one shots for characters totally understand if you don’t do this but would you consider writing a pt2 or at least an ending for katakuri’s one. Recently read it, love it, can’t stop, thinking about it

Please🥺

I got you, anon. I wanted to have them see each other, at least. He didn't get to talk with them like the others in his NSFW fic prior, and I wanted him to have a happy ending. You're making me work today!

Elegia

Masterlist Here,

Word Count: 970+

Synopsis: After the events of Elegia with Tot Musica and Uta, you awaken to the looming figure of Katakuri standing above you. You apologise for the events that transpired, asking forgiveness for putting his siblings in danger, and only have respect meet you in your wake.

Themes: Katakuri x afab!reader, sfw, feelings, fluff, mentions of battle, mutual respect, mutual pining. Part 2 for Dreaming of You (NSFW) Here, One-Piece RED fic.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

Waking up alone and isolated from your crew was not the way you anticipated your time in Elegia to conclude. A vicious battle between the demonic presence of Tot Musica, under the command of the siren-song of Uta, was not what you envisioned for your getaway. If you knew this is what awaited you, you would have especially taken more consideration in inviting your new friend Brûlée along with you to the island. 

Looking to your side, you noticed her form remained unmoving and unconscious as you stirred from your position lying in the grass. You immediately crawled over to her, your lethargy weighing you down and prompting your movements to be slow and staggered. 

Just before you managed to reach her, you felt a presence behind you and a large hand placed on your shoulder. You slowly winced up, your mind in a haze as you turned your gaze towards the presence. 

Charlotte Katakuri crouched down beside you and looked at his unconscious siblings just beyond you with an unreadable expression in his eyes. In his mind's eye, and in your own, you were all engaged in a vicious battle to take down the entity in perfect unison: you within the dream-land from the sing-sing fruit, and the reality combated by him externally with the Red-Hair pirates. 

You felt him in your eyes, and he felt you in his; both your observation Haki working in perfect synchrony to take down the demon and save the civilians and marines only there to enjoy Uta’s music. He placed a little more pressure on your shoulders, pinching the muscle beneath his wide fingertips. In unison, you spoke immediately in a hurried tone. 

“I’m so sorry, lord Charlotte,” you bowed your head and began to utter your sincere apologies to him, “If I knew this is what was waiting for us when I invited Brûlée here to the concert with me, I never would’ve-,” you started your hurried apology, only stopping when you focussed on his words.

“-I have never experienced fighting alongside such a skilled Haki user before. Observation and armament alike, you are truly a revered warrior,” he complimented you, shifting his grip on your shoulder to caress your cheek with his large hands. “Your grace on the battlefield and protection over my family did not go unnoticed here.” 

Your breath hitched, darting your eyes between his before looking down to the bodies of his unconscious siblings. Shaking your head away from his grip, you slowly sink to your knees and bow your head to him further. 

“I deserve no such praise, my lord,” you admit to him with a soft quiver in your tone and your mind racing with the aftershocks of adrenaline, “This is the second time your sister Brûlée has been injured because of me, and Oven did not fare much better.” Katakuri collected your chin beneath his fingers and angled your face up to gaze into his eyes. 

“They are unscathed,” he searched within your expression and thumbed over the apple of your cheek, “And they are unharmed physically.” He leaned forward and lowered himself down from his crouched position to kneel in front of you. “I am grateful for your friendship with my sister, please do not ever apologize to me for it.” 

A weight lifted off your shoulders as you darted your eyes between his, feeling something within his orbs suppressed below the surface. You dart your eyes down to the fur shroud covering his lips before returning to gaze up into his hazel-colored orbs. 

“Thank you, lord Charlotte,” you hang your head once more, choosing to honor him further with a low bow. He chased your gaze by lowering his head and angling his chin down, the shroud loosening over his lips and revealing a soft, toothy smile. 

“Please call me by my name,” he smiled further, both of you not noticing the two other Charlotte siblings stirring beside you and glancing up at you. You sighed, a small and shy smile rising to your lips, as you looked down to view his sharpened teeth and eel-like jaw. A soft rosy blush of shame and embarrassment grew on his cheeks as he noticed your gaze down on his lips. 

Wincing away, he retracted his hand and attempted to relift his shroud back over his lips, halting when he felt your gentle hand reach forward. You looked between his eyes, slowly adding a soft amount of pressure on his hand and softly urging him to reveal his face to you once more. 

“Would…” you began, searching his now revealed face with more purpose and a soft flush rising to your nose, ears and cheeks, “...Would you like to stay with me a while, Katakuri? Just until your siblings regain consciousness?” Katakuri looked beyond you to where Brûlée and Oven were looking at him, immediately falling to their backs and closing their eyes to feign unconsciousness. 

He smiled a soft, knowing smile and leaned forward, prompting your hand to raise from his hand up to cup his cheek. 

“I would like that very much,” he whispered your name, pressing his forehead to yours and closing his eyes upon impact. 

The connection between you was strong and powerful, short sparks of ignition tingling between the press of his head and the flames of new beginnings rising in your heart. You both raised soft smiles in unison, in view of his ‘sleeping’ siblings, and your crew now catching up with you in your place on the island. 

Katakuri now knew it was not only a possibility to have his dreams potentially become a reality with armament haki, but you may feel affection for him as he did feel for you. Breathing each other's air and holding one another close, you felt at peace and hopeful of what new beginning these sparks meant for the both of you.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Not The Same

He's not the same- and neither are you. And you'll never be, as long as he can prevent that.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, mentions of prostitution, fluff??, injury

Length: 2.8k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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You really only sleep on the ship and leave right after, because Jungkook told you he doesn't trust them enough to stay much longer than you both have to.

And you'd also probably be in the way of repairs- so you both roam around the surrounding city instead, looking around for ways to make money.

Jungkook plans on selling some of the cargo he has. Mainly Steel from earth- though the issue is that currently, no vendor you've visited wants to take it, and any other one that's in the surrounding areas is way too far away out of town to just walk to. There's some alarm to take caution today, because a certain gas is higher in the atmosphere especially outside of the city- so Jungkook denied any of your attempts at telling him to go alone instead then, since his body would not really have any reaction to the change in the air.

But he refuses. Says he can't leave you alone, for some reason you're not sure of.

What he doesn't take into account is however, that he does, occasionally, leave you out of sight. For example right now, as he went into a store to buy something- and you can't stand here and just wait until disaster strikes. He needs the money, his ship is important- and from what you could tell from the destination coordinates inside the control station, he seems to have a tight schedule ahead that he already will have trouble to keep up. And either way, it's time for you to repay him his hospitality- after all, the only reason you're healthy and still alive and not in captivity, is because he simply decided that.

And it's a kind decision, even if he didn't mean for it to be one.

So you feel in your pocket for the little device for his ship, and look for an opportunity to vanish- doing it exactly as he seems to argue about payment for something, a perfect chance since he's distracted now.

The city is bustling, loud, fast paced and intimidating. But it's nothing you can't manage- signs and a rough idea of the city's layout giving you enough hints to help you know where you have to go. That place is a vendor, far out of town- about a three hour walk. Manageable- you're used to walking most of the days anyways from your past homelessness on earth, so it's not out of question.

You just hope that you find the right person, and don't run into some bad news along the way.

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Back at the store, Jungkook is absolutely panicking inside.

You're gone, completely vanished, not even a trace of your scent remaining to help him find you. And while he could always just regroup and settle himself before freaking out, you kind of have his main communication device with you- which makes him worry about your intentions, considering how much you've tried just hours prior to make him sell you after all, just to fund the repairs for his ship.

He can't even think about doing that. He's not his father.

He asks around if anyone has seen you, before he even thinks about your collar. He could just have you searched by law enforcement, and he's steady on the way towards a station, when he stutters. They'll probably shoot you down if you run, and considering your past, you'd definitely run.

So instead, he walks around, goes hint after hint to somehow try and figure out what the hell your plan is. You definitely didn't return to the ship, so he's safe in that department- it would be a nightmare to somehow make those guys understand that you are not for sale, and weren't allowed to just.. sell yourself like that. And if he was to lock his communication device, they'd surely ping you and you'd be labeled a thief- which would just get you hunted down again.

For now, you're safe with his collar around your neck, his name, ship number and citizen ID engraved in it. Currently, you're owned and basically free to move around-

and he hopes you don't get the stupid idea of trying to get rid of it.

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Your nose is burning. The back of your throat is equally in pain- just like your chest, breath tasting like iron as if you'd ran a marathon too fast, too long. But it doesn't matter, because you finally spot the sign towards the vendor ahead.

The large tent is quiet, but at least it's shielded from the scolding sun, a little cooler but stuffy from all the cargo that's catching dust out here in the desert. A man, three eyes in his face with one closed permanently, is looking at you. "What'cha here for, pet?" He chuckles lowly, like a man who's smoked since he was born. He's pretty overweight, hammock-like seating arrangement creaking a little as his body shakes with laughter. "Come 'ere. What does your master want, eh?" He asks, and you walk closer, holding out the communication device that displays the currently loaded cargo in Jungkook's ship.

"120 tons of Steel. Earth-made." You say, though your throat hurts when you talk. "I heard you're currently looking for that." You say, as the man leans closer, and hums, clearly interested. Only now do you notice the two extra sets of arms he has, three fingers on every hand, claw like tips dull, not sharp.

"Indeed.." He mumbles. "What does he want for it?" He asks, and you swallow the stale tasting saliva, clearing your throat.

"Whatever you can offer." You say, remembering how much Jungkook had paid, according to the data on his device. "At least twenty-five hundred though."

"Pah!" He laughs, leaning back. "He's one stupid fella if he sends his pet to get money!" The guy laughs. "You get thirty six hundred."

"Forty flat." You say.

"Thirty five, now that you're trying to be bold, little brat." He growls. "I could just shoot you right now, and take the license for the goods instead."

"Then my collar will send a distress signal to my master immediately." You say. "He's waiting for me, after all. And he probably knows the worth of the goods a lot better."

"Are you threatening me?" He asks lowly, squinting sharply at you.

"I'm just offering the option to agree on a price with a 'pet' that's not aware of the actual worth of the goods she's supposed to sell." You shrug.

It's tense for a good moment, and suddenly, the man laughs, loudly enough to reverb in the metal vases stored around, hammock shaking under his weight.

"You're a lovely little thing!" He roars. "I almost want to buy you instead!" He chuckles, slowly calming down. "Forty flat, agreed. Give me the thing so I can pay-"

"I'll need it.. physically." You tell him, trying to keep your face stoic despite your growing fear.

"He taught you well. Ah, at least I'll get my things." He mumbles, searching under the large table full of things for something- filling a bag with metal currencies, same one's Jungkook and everyone else uses commonly. "Forty five." He purrs, putting the bag on the table. "Just because you're very entertaining." The alien man rumbles towards you, pushing the bag closer with one of his clawed fingers. "Buy yourself something nice with it." He laughs, as you take the bag, and tap on the device to sell the goods- hovering it over a glowing patch on the metal table that's clearly meant for the signal of the device you're holding.

'Ownership transferred to: Yaelno 'Spider' Spyolden.' is seen displayed as a message.

"I will have my men pick up the goods tomorrow morning." Yaelno tells you. "You should go home now, little pet. I bet your master already misses his dog." He roars with laughter, as you snatch the bag and practically run out of the tent.

Only when you're far away enough to not see the tent clearly anymore do you check the bag to count- and the man was true to his word, currency real, shining with the distinctive rainbow- shimmer that can't be replicated, and the Number of bigger and smaller coins adds up to the amount you agreed on with the man.

Even the extra adds up.

The only thing that you now feel could become a problem, is the storm- throwing sand left and right around you, while the air feels scratchy in your throat, stinging in your eyes with every breath you take. You try and use your shirt over your mouth, but it's useless- you can't really see properly anymore, barely reaching the first few metal sheds outside of town, when you hide behind a wall, curling up after hiding the bag of money under your clothes.

You made it- but you somehow failed, too. What a mess.

And only faintly, as you lose consciousness, do you notice someone crouching down in front of your body now laying on your side on the ground, a hand pulling the collar a little to read what's engraved in the tracker, which's LED light is now blinking red due to your body being in clear distress.

A sigh is heard. A low voice speaks- mostly to himself.

"Jeon Jungkook.." The voice mumbles, almost disappointed, but also a little amused. "..You're just like your father after all."

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"You have to help me." Jungkook immediately barks at his long time friend, who steps aside after Jungkook just walked in.

"Ah yes, Jungkook, of course you can come inside, make yourself at home. I'm doing great, thanks for asking-" The man says, before Jungkook turns around, eyes a stressed turquoise color.

"I'm not kidding around- I need to find something.!" He presses on, while his friend helps him sit in the kitchen area of the metal house, inner walls padded with fabrics and pelts to keep the warmth inside. "I lost someone-"

"I know." He says, a gentle smile on his lips. "Nah- sit down. You're way too agitated right now to think clearly." He pushes the Alien back into his chair, anger slowly mixing into the colors of his eyes. "She's fine- Yoongi is looking after her right now." He explains, filling a glass with water before he sets it onto the table. "Why was she out alone anyways?"

"She wasn't-" Jungkook rubs his hands over his face. "I just- I went into a store to get her those stupid.. things she needs for knitting or something, and when I-"

"You bought her knitting equipment?" The man laughs. "That's adorable, Jungkook!"

"Seokjin, shut up, it's not about that!" Jungkook growls. "Anyways, I came back out and she was gone. I have no idea where she went or why!" He sighs, finally taking the glass to drink from it.

"Well, she had a pretty hefty amount of cash on her, that's for sure." Jin says, sitting down in front of Jungkook, who's eyes are now full of a surprised blue. "And your general communication device too- though it was locked." He informs his friend in front of him, who's clearly finally coming down, emotionally, from all the stress he's been through. "What's she to you anyways? A partner?" He wonders.

"No-" Jungkook denies. "-I'm not sure anymore.." He says, staring into the water in his glass. "She snuck on board. Didn't care if she died. Even now-" He sighs. "She wanted me to sell her to the mechanics so I could get it fixed."

"So you took her in." Jin gently finishes, though Jungkook shakes his head.

"No, I'm just-" He pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, thinking clearly. "I haven't found the appropriate planet for her yet." He excuses.

"Uh-huh." Seokjin lifts a brow in question. "That's why you went out and got her knitting-stuff."

"Well, she's bored!" Jungkook defends himself, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. "Doesn't have anything to do, can't read well, doesn't know how to steer a ship or calculate maps. I don't have any kind of job for her." He says.

"So you don't want her to be bored." Jin offers. "You want her to be happy." He teases, making Jungkook growl while his eyes can't hide the embarrassed pinkish hue.

"Fuck off." He simply responds, when a door opens.

"Oh." Yoongi says, his cat-like ears turning towards him, tail snapping upwards in interest. "She's asleep, but fine." He offers, only somewhat leaning the door closed, keeping it open for a bit in case he's needed back inside. "Throat's irritated as hell. She won't talk for a little while, that's for sure." He says, bumping his head into Jungkook's- a common greeting amongst the shorter Alien's kind. "The hell was she doing outside?" He wonders, filling a glass with water for himself.

"Jungkookie bought her some supplies so she can have a hobby while he explores the galaxy with her~" Seokjin teases, earning a glare from the younger alien.

"Oh really? Thought you wouldn't go for a human, considering you didn't want to be like your father."

It's deadly quiet as the sentence is spoken, even Seokjin now on edge as Jungkook's white eyes stare at the tabletop.

The worst thing is, that Jungkook can't even deny any of it. He doesn't know why he's getting attached to you, why he can't seem to get rid of you even if the world offers him chance after chance. He could've left you twice already- but he can't do it. He actually enjoys your company, especially after letting you inside the command central. You're calm, and easy, and you feel good to be around- and yeah, maybe his ship has been fucking lonely all those years that he's lived this life.

Is he just like his father after all?

"No." Jungkook says, quietly. "I'm not like him."

"So you're not her partner?" Yoongi wonders, and Jungkook shakes his head, eyes swirling colors, unsure what's really going on inside him. "Interesting. Maybe we could keep her here then?" He looks at Seokjin. "Or I could take her with me. I'm sure my partner would enjoy some fellow human company-"

"She's not going with you." Jungkook denies. "Neither is she staying with Jin. She's registered under my name."

"So she is your partner-" Yoongi jabs again.

"She's not!" Jungkook bursts out. "She's-" He searches frantically inside his head for an answer that could satisfy not only his friends, but himself also. What are you? You're definitely not the same as all the other humans. So what the hell are you?

"She's a friend." Jungkook finally decides, not only for now, but in general. "She's a friend, and she's coming with me." He says, a final tone to his voice that let's no argument get involved again.

"Jungkook." Yoongi says, tiny tufts of hair on the tips of his cat ears swaying a bit in the wind of the fan close by. "You know that I just tried to help you, right?" He offers, as the fellow alien of a different kind looks at him. "Of course you're not like him." He says. "And neither is she the same as your mother-"

"Absolutely not." Jungkook says, standing up at that- the mention of his mother clearly setting him off. "-I'll make sure she doesn't end up like her." He says, before he walks into your room where you're sleeping, a soft but thin blanket over your body, sensor attached to your forehead to measure your temperature.

And yet again, just sitting close to you is already putting him at ease again. He feels ten times better than just moments ago, simply because he can watch you breathe and be assured that you're fine now. He slowly moves to the little bag of money, counting it, an unsure and most of all surprised expression on his face at the sheer amount of it all, before he spots his communication device.

And unlocking it gives him all the answers.

"You sly little devil.." He mumbles to himself, chuckling a little under his breath. You must've overheard him the entire time at the vendors where he tried to get rid of the slowly rusting metal inside his ship- but the fact that you sold it for almost more than double the amount he thought he'd ever get on this planet, is astonishing.

You're full of surprises- and maybe even more than he thought.

Maybe keeping you at his side isn't such a bad idea after all.

Maybe he should let you stay.

[spacejellyfish3]

everybody arguing every which way in the Doctor Who tag about whether Ricky September is good or nah or racist or nah is for the most part rather negligible when faced with how utilitarian his character is to the story of Dot and Bubble; like, he (and his end) mainly functions as a vehicle to unveil the wool for anyone who hasn't already clocked that Lindy (and the rest of Finetime by proxy) is an awful person eager to stab in the back if it meant she could save her own skin, a conclusion that's promptly bolstered by that gut punch of an ending.

had he survived, it would've either a) if not a racist and had joined the Doctor and Ruby, way devalued the bleakness of the ending and opened it all up to tedious nitpicking or b) if a racist, been a big bummer whilst robbing all the power from that prior, most detestable moment of Lindy's. it's a writer catch 22 if you will.

idk it feels like too much fuss over a schrodinger's cat that was never meant to be resolved outside of fanfic AUs and wispy late night dreamings.

[monarcascension]

louder than bombs | y.h

summary : You and Yunho’s relationship was a complicated one. But not as complicated as the relationship you both shared with Choi San, your “ex” and his ex-best friend. After ending things with him years ago, you and Yunho embarked on a situationship of your own, however things between you begin to spiral out of control putting your relationship in danger. Will your feelings for each other help you salvage what you have? Or will you lose him forever?

pairings: jeong yunho x fem!reader

tags: MINORS DNI, nsfw, smut warning, unprotected sex, asphyxiation, guided masturbation, domxsub, creampie, violence, blood warning, vulgar language, sensual language, sex talk, rough sex ♡

*DISCLAIMER : This story is mainly for entertainment purposes. This is not a representation of the artists themselves or their actual personalities and is only created to be a work of fiction. Their actions are only for storytelling and literary purposes.*

[ AVOID SPOILERS — READ PART 1 HERE ] ㋛㋛㋛

[ User Tags: @simeonswhore @hopetiger10 ]

word count: 13K

——

Regret was like a vicious toxin. Eroding you from the inside out until there was nothing left other than the thought of what could have been. Desperate clings to the paths you chose not to take prior. Ever since San, you lived with many of them. You wished you never met him. You had a desire to rewind time and make it so he was never a part of your life to begin with. You were tired of being tangled in all of this pain that his selfishness had caused you, but you loathe yourself for letting it get this far.

Now to add onto the declaration list of your compunctions, you stood in disbelief from what you just let slip out of your mouth to the man you had previously shared a piece of your heart with.

“I…I think I fell in love with Yunho.”

The sentence looped in your head; echoing like bats trying to echolocate their way through a dark cave. Those were words that you never thought you would ever utter to yourself, let alone anybody else. You swore free from the spell of “love” or whatever those feelings meant to you, and kept them under a stiff lock and key even from Yunho who you had grown into this semi-functional situationship with. The two of you, however, had a deal. You both were aware of what you were stepping into when you decided to share a bed that night—making it clear that feelings would never be involved in what you had. It kept things from being complicated between you— the one barrier that protected you both from one another, from the disappointment that could be brought on from any physical adventure— had been ruined because of you.

Because you decided to fall in love yet again.

Your heart was thumping so roughly against the cage of your chest that it was beginning to pierce skin. Your forehead was moist with beaded sweat. You wiped it away, curious to know if it was from the immoral activities the two of you had just finished, or from the anxiety you felt at what his response could possibly be. The silence was too much for you to bear so you cleared your throat, hoping to subtract from the awkwardness.

All you could hear was his rough, ragged breath intermingling with your broken sighs. You were too scared to look at him, afraid of what might reflect back at you if you did. The sudden need to explain yourself arised, feeling it to be your responsibility to mitigate whatever hurt you had just caused. But what could you possibly say to fix everything? Words weren’t enough in this instance.

Your brain finally cleared from the high you were on, giving you full autonomy over your thoughts. “San I-” You stammered, but a hand and a low tone hushed you within moments.

“You… love him?.” His voice was calm, but his words were harsh. Deserved at the least. “So, why did you kiss me? Why did we just do anything that we just did?”

The last thing you ever though you would do if you saw him again was fuck him the first chance you got. You believed that it was the guilt of knowing that you could never love San the way he wanted you to. Engulfed in the inability to properly explain what it was that you felt with words, you said with action. Though, it may have been the wrong action considering the circumstances. The realization that the two of you never shared a real emotional connection and could only communicate through physical means was the main source of your confusing relationship with him. One thing you learned however was that sex didn’t always mean love or an invitation into something serious. Sometimes sex was just that. Sex. Sometimes it was a physical love letter. Sometimes it was a goodbye.

You wished you would have discovered that sooner rather than now.

You swallowed a clump of saliva in your throat and moved away from the door that you both were propped up against. “I’m sorry. I can’t give you what you want, San.”

San scoffed at that comment. “You can’t? Or you’d rather give it to someone else?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, running your fingers over your forehead like you were trying to make sure your brain was still there and functioning. “This was a mistake.”

You paced the bathroom floor. The words sounded more heartless and cruel leaving your mouth than it sounded in your head.

You fetched your phone and purse that clattered to the floor and tucked them underneath your arm, striding over to the bathroom sink to fix whatever damage your look had undergone.

Your lipstick had smudged a bit because of the inopportune display of affection, and you quickly fixed it with a facial wipe that was tucked inside the depths of your bag. You readjusted yourself; affixed your dress straps back into place and refluffed your hair until you looked a little better than you had moments ago. It wasn’t the same but it would do for now. The final touch was just masking the scent of sex that was practically etched into your skin with the perfume that you always carried with you. Your hair would hide the light bruise on your neck that San left from canvassing your flesh with his mouth.

“Wow.” He sounded hurt. You could not blame him. “ A mistake, huh? So, you're saying you still felt something for me— was that a mistake too?”

“Look, this is too complicated for either of us. It always has been, and I think we have collectively had enough complicated relationships to last us a lifetime.” You inhaled with a sharp breath. “Let's just end it. Once and for all—on a good note this time.”

“No, this isn’t complicated for me.” San stood to his feet now, tugging on the dress shirt he had on to straighten it back out again. “This is complicated for you.”

“I don’t want to fight about this, San. Just drop it.”

He continued anyway. “Am I wrong? You’re confused. You don’t know what you want! Who you want.”

You didn’t bother to look at him directly, only stared at the silhouette of his figure in the corner of the mirror. There was a noise rising in your throat, breaking through your closed lips and out into the air. You started to laugh.

“What? You wanted me to choose you? After everything you put me through.” You chuckled again. “You’re out of your damn mind. I’d rather be with someone who actually knows how to love me.”

“Love you?” San snickered. “You don’t know Yunho as well as you think you do, if you believe he’s actually capable of loving you. Believe me when I say, he’s not the guy you think he is.”

You almost gave yourself whiplash from the force of the twirl as you turned to look at San, shooting an incredulous look at him. What was that supposed to mean? You’ve spent years being around Yunho and he was just as sweet and gentle as he had always been. He was caring and open and.. you wanted to believe that the stream of affections that he had shown you came from somewhere deep down. Came from him possibly loving you. At least you hoped.

“And you think you’re better? You think you know everything, San, but you don’t. We didn't want any of this, it just h-”

“Happened. Right?” He finished your words like they were his own.

The two of you stared at one another. You could feel the heat rising to your face, your skin– although burning with the anger that was manifesting– felt cold.

“You say you love him and he loves you, blah blah blah, but what do you think he’ll do when he finds out what happened between us?” San said with a sneer.

All you could do was stare at him for a moment. Your eyes darted around his figure wildly, trying to reveal whatever secret meaning was behind his words. Or was it a threat? You tried not to think of that possibility as you turned back to face the mirror, focused on the goal that you were trying to achieve. You heard some minor shuffling from behind you, but paid no mind to it. The bathroom door squeaked open with a shrill, and you awaited the moments that the door closed, telling you that San was gone, but it never came. There was the loud chatter from outside where the rest of the party was, and the classical music being played from the live band.

Then he spoke again. “I was really hoping things would be different between us this time, but I guess you chose the wrong guy to love, again. Right?”

You paused for a moment, sitting on the last words that San left you with before he walked out of the bathroom— leaving you completely and utterly alone. Again. That simple word stung you more than you were willing to admit; feeling almost uncomfortable in your own skin as the sentence dug deeper into your flesh causing you to writhe and shift in place. However, he was right.

What did you really know about love anyway except the part of it that hurt the most? How would you know if Yunho was really even the right one to love you in the first place? What if you couldn’t love him as you say you did? Stuck in the perpetual cycle of pain all over again because of an inadequacy that you lacked within yourself. You loved San once, didn’t you? Wasn’t everything you put yourself through with him for the sake of love? Or was it something else? So many questions clouded your brain, it was overwhelming. You could not answer them all at once, for the answers never offered themselves to you in the first place.

Everything you thought you knew, came crumbling down in a matter of seconds, leaving a wake of unregistered feelings and unsolved emotional turmoils.

You spent the better part of the last four years in anguish over San. That night you found him in the arms of another woman, haunted you. The words “I love you” hurt you more than they healed you, carving a wound so deep in your heart that you felt it would never mend itself. You despised those words, and could never bring yourself to say them. Questioning yourself on what love really is all over again.

플래시백

You loved Seoul Forest Park. In fact, other than Namsan, this was the park you visited more frequently. It was more peaceful. Your sacred place. However, this is the first time you came with someone else, and the atmosphere was just as calm and serene as you had left it months ago. The trees dance in a contemporary style swaying elegantly in the wind, telling a story of their place in this reserve. The leaves shuffled against one another, forming the instruments for the performance; since it was coming upon the Spring, they were just as bright and healthy as you could have hoped. The sky was a pale blue, brushed with sparse, but fluffy clouds overhead. The sun hid its blinding rays behind the tufts of white that passed over it, protecting both you and Yunho from the unforgiving heat.

The two of you were sitting at the pond, surrounded with beautiful stone tablets. Some of them even crossed the water like a small bridge. Yunho was skipping rocks that he found nearby, while you watched a family of ducks run across the stone with its brigade of ducklings. One of them fell into the water clumsily. You smiled more happily than you usually would have at the sight as the other babies attempted to stick their stout beaks into the water to help their sibling up. The mother took notice and tried to see what the commotion was about. You giggled a bit to yourself, but possibly louder than you thought. Yunho perked up and followed your gaze to find the source of your laughter.

“Have you ever had a duck before?” He asked you, quite randomly.

You turned to him with raised eyebrows, but readjusted to engage in the sudden conversation. “No, not as a pet, but.” You thought about it for a moment, trying to recall your childhood. “Since I used to live by a bigger lake, we saw a lot of ducks come and go. My dad and I used to feed them together.”

“They’re funny little things, but they always seem to be on the move— never stay in one place too long.” There seemed to be something that Yunho wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure how to say it. So, he continued. “I used to have one named Oli. I feel like he only used me for my bread, but he was a real pal. I think I missed a Summer seeing him since I was inside playing video games most of the time, and he was probably expecting me to come and feed him, but I forgot… never saw him again after that. I wonder where he is now.”

You closed your eyes and sighed, shaking your head in that same disappointed manner you always did and laughed against your will. “Maybe those are his kids.”

Yunho grinned and laughed, considering the possibility. “Maybe, but those ducks don’t have his feathers.”

You chuckled and sighed all in the same breath. “It feels so easy for animals to just pick up and move on after being disappointed. I’m jealous of Oli.”

Yunho smiled at you for a moment. His gaze shifted towards the grassy slope you both sat on, twiddling with the blades at his side. “Yeah, I probably really let him down, but I don’t think it’s that easy for them to move on. When you spend a lot of time in one place, you get accustomed to it. If I was Oli, I would like coming home to that nest or that pond everyday, but then have to pick up and move again every winter? That’d be so bothersome. So, if I was used to getting fed at one house and then have to find another? I’d be pretty pissed.”

You thought about his words, piecing together whatever analogy he was trying to prove in your head. You looked over again at the family of ducks only to find them now swimming in the pond together.

Yunho spoke up again after clearing his throat. “What I’m trying to say is: moving on isn’t easy for anyone or anything. It’s a process, and it takes time. Maybe Oli was disappointed in me for not being there, but overtime, I know he found something else. He never stopped moving just because he was hurt by someone.”

Your eyes stayed latched on the duck family that paddled around the lake in a circle. Always moving and still enjoying it. You let a deep breath escape you. “Moving on can be lonely sometimes, though. At least they have each other.”

Yunho nodded, looking out at the vast sea of green grass and trees on the other side of the lake. “It can be. Nobody said you always had to do it alone, though. Birds and ducks and things like that, they're not always alone when they move down South. They always have people that love them by their side, so why can't we?”

You glanced over at Yunho, looking at the small squint in his eyes as he gazed up at the sky; trying to shield himself from looking directly at the sun that was beginning to peak from behind the clouds. His once pink hair had now faded into a light blonde, blowing messily across his forehead. He caught your gaze and stared back at you. That goofy grin pulling at his lips as you turned away shyly; the both of you sharing a brief laugh.

“What?” He asked. “You were staring at me first. I can't look at you?”

“It’s not that.” You chuckled, pulling your lips into your teeth for a moment. “Just trying to figure out when you got so philosophical.”

“There’s a lot of things about me you don’t know.” He started moving closer to you. His hands reached up towards your face and used the knuckle of his finger to brush a stray piece of your hair from your forehead.

You only watched him, being sure to not make any wayward movements. His eyes searched your face intently, trying to glean some kind of answer from you. “The one thing you should know though, is that I’m always going to be here with you.”

His fingers caressed down your cheek, stopping at your chin. That same, singular finger tilted your head upwards and pulled you into a soft kiss. Your relationship with him was still confusing, but you never questioned it. It was merely yours. No one else's. No one had to define what you were. You just… were.

Your lips curled up into a smile once Yunho backed away from you. You brought your knees up to your chest and hugged them, rocking yourself over to the side until you landed flush against Yunho. Your head tucked just underneath his chin. He adjusted himself closer to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

The two of you didn’t say anything else while you sat there engulfed in one another. Ever since that night the two of you shared, Yunho had not left your side. Of course, he would still give you the space you needed, but when the two of you were together. It really was just the two of you. When he held you like this, you took in the comforting fragrance he had on— smelling similar to apple— and would fall into him with ease. Yunho always possessed this calming energy about him and that's always how you felt. You loved and cherished every moment you spent with him.

There was a warmness growing in your chest. That deep, bleeding, gash that San left on your heart slowly began to close.

계속하다

You had to find Yunho. Your mind slipped the fact that he had miraculously disappeared into the thicket of the party. Jamie also had to be confused as to where you went, considering you had been gone for almost twenty minutes with no correspondence. You checked your phone as you exited the bathroom, hoping for something. Jamie had texted you asking where you were and you quickly responded, telling her that you simply got lost in the magnitude of the hall. But nothing from Yunho.

I’ll undo the lie later. Sorry, Jamie. You said to yourself, clicking off the device and stumbling back into the party. It was just as lively as you had left it, but urgency filled the air instead of the fun you were promised. All you wanted to do was find Yunho and get out of here, and put this whole shit show behind you. So, you continued your search. This time, you called out for him.

You searched the perimeter first. You only found big wigs with their companions sitting at round dining tables with their share of dinner and drink. The ballroom floor was not as crowded now as many had found seats to sit in and were engaging in conversation elsewhere, giving you enough space to trek forward without bumping into anyone.

“Yunho!” You called out, fruitlessly. No answer. You searched amongst the semi-sparse group in the area. Seeing no familiar faces yet. The live band was drowning you out this close up. It would be impossible for anyone that happened to be out of earshot to hear you.

But then a voice called out to you. “Hey! Over here.”

You spun around quickly, a few groups away was Mingi. He raised his drink high in the sky so you could see him and his black and blonde streaked hair, and you sighed in relief. Happy to see a friendly face, even if it wasn’t the one you were hoping for. Beside him were Hongjoong and Seonghwa, Yeosang, Jongho. Wooyoung and Veronica were missing and- Your heart caved, but rose again from the elated feeling as your eyes landed on the tall blonde.

“Yunho.” you murmured softly.

You quickly made your way over to them, saying your pardons to those who were in the way and squished yourself between the rather large group of men that you had come to call your friends. “Hey everyone. It’s good to see you, y’all look great.”

“So do you. You look like you’ve been running a marathon, though.” Seonghwa said, looking at the guys.

“Yeah, are you alright?” Yunho cooed softly, more concerned.

No. “Yeah! I was just um… Yunho. I’ve been looking for you, everywhere. We think we’re going to head out.”

“Already?” Yunho looked at his watch. “Why? Did something happen?”

“Well-“

“I hope y’all aren't skipping out so soon!” A voice chimed a little bit away from where you stood. “The party’s just getting started.”

A hand clapped around Yunho and Yeosang’s shoulder suddenly and his head jerked to the side to see San rounding around the man’s tall figure. Wooyoung in toe with a jovial grin on his face. Everyone in the group, including you, shifted uncomfortably where they were standing. They were fine when he was with them earlier, laughing and joking like everything was peachy, but that changed now that you were with them. They all knew.

You and Yunho exchanged brief glances before he rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. “San.”

He sounded agitated; trying to mask it behind that smooth and cool voice of his. You never really questioned him about his relationship with San. Nor did you ever ask him. You knew he always hung around the guys regardless of if he was there, but the only thing you knew about their situation was that Yunho had moved out with Yeosang a few months prior and San, Seonghwa, and Mingi all lived together now.

“Good to see you, buddy! It’s been a while. You look good. Nice suit.” San almost sounded believable, if it weren’t for the fact that you knew he was pissed at both of you.

Yunho looked at you again, and you stared back at him practically mortified. He squinted at you looking for answers.

Is he the reason you wanted to leave? Yunho seemed to ask through eyes alone.

San didn’t even seem to acknowledge your presence yet, but he knew you were there. He only looked at Yunho, who was trying his best to ignore him. Seonghwa stepped forward towards San, placing a hand on his shoulder like he had done Yunho, and spoke low into his ear, trying to tug him away at the same time. San brushed him off almost instantly.

“Nah, Nah, Nah. Wooyoung and I already had a drink. Three, actually.” He said, trying to recount the number in his head. “Oh! I saw Jamie over there too. She did not look happy to see me. Didn’t even say a word. I would have loved to catch up with her. We were friends once, just like Yunho and I. Right bud?”

He smacked him on the back, and Yunho only shifted slightly in his spot. He chewed on the inside of his mouth, annoyed. Upset. The others looked amongst each other, confused at what was going on, but they knew better than anybody.

“Alright, that's enough.” Yunho said, straightening himself, rising to his full height as he shrugged out of San’s grasp. “You’re drunk.”

“Maybe we should get out of here too.” Yeosang chimed up, trying to keep that happy smile he usually possessed. “We have something to do tomorrow morning anyway.”

The group all spoke in agreement with the statement, trying to shift out of the group with San, but he resisted. Suddenly, another body joined the commotion. You looked beside you to see Jamie looking wary of the situation. She looked to you and then Yunho, seeing the visible distress on your faces.

“Where the hell have you two been?” Jamie’s voice was almost in a whisper. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain later.” You reached out to Yunho and grabbed the crest of his arm. “Yunho. Let’s just go.”

“It would be really nice if we all had a chance to catch up, really.” San continued. He seemed happy, but his face was just flushed with red and his eyelids lower than before. It was clear that he had drunk much more than he said. But he was coherent enough to cause problems as always.

San finally looked over at you and shivers ran down your spine. He smiled, “You and I did enough catching up. Don’t you think?”

Your stomach turned. Yunho glanced over at you and then back at San. “I think it’s best if you listen to the guys. You need to go.”

“Tell him. We had a lot of fun catching up a little bit ago didn’t we?” San took a step towards you and Yunho quickly intervened. His frame towering over the both of you, and all you could see was the way he glared at San.

The vein on the side of his neck wriggled beneath his skin. San did not shy from him though. Whatever liquor was running through his system had made him brazen and unafraid. The smile that lined San’s face had dwindled like the flame of a candle at the end of its wax. He took one courageous step up to Yunho who kept his eyes on him the entire time. Hongjoong and Seonghwa tried to pull him back. Jongho told him it wasn’t a good idea and encouraged him to leave, but he shrugged off all resistance. Yunho was unwavering in his defense. You anxiously looked between the two of them and your body moved before your mouth did.

“Yunho. Come on, let’s just go home.” You tried to reach out for him again, but Jamie pulled you back, catching you by the arm.

You looked back to see her sternly shaking her head. The people beside you were beginning to gawk in your direction, whispering to each other about the sudden fuss.

San stepped up to him again until they were mere inches apart. “Yunho. Yunho. Yunho.” He mocked. “Everybody just thinks you’re the greatest guy. Jeong Yunho: can’t ever do any wrong. Can he? But they don’t know, do they?”

Everyone looked around nervously. Your palms were beginning to feel moist with sweat. Your heart pounding against your chest; out of its usual steady rhythm. Jamie even perked up at the comment.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Yunho snipped.

San’s hand came in contact with Yunho’s shoulder and he pushed him back with just a few of his fingers. Yunho barely budged, his shoulder falling out of its original place before stiffening back. San took another step. “Tell them.”

Hongjoong stepped in, gripping San’s shoulder. “San, man. Don’t cause a scene.”

San ignored him, shaking free of his hold. “Tell them, Yunho.” San had more bass in his voice now. He pushed him again. The look in his eye was almost evil. He pushed Yunho back again, this time Yunho took a step behind him as he did.

San tried to press him again, but Yunho wrapped his large hands around his wrist, stopping him in midair. You could see the pain lurch onto San’s face for a moment as his nose twitched. Yunho bared his teeth and got closer to him, squeezing his fist around his arm. “Touch me again, and I’ll break your fucking hand.”

“Tough guy. Then you’re brave enough to admit that you’ve been fucking the girl I loved behind my back. All of our backs.”

Yunho looked over to you for a moment. There was a brief panic in his eyes, but he hid it well enough. You wanted to help him, but San was relentless. Still, Yunho said nothing, standing firm against San’s sudden aggression.

“So what if I am?” You shuddered. Everyone’s eyes turned to you suddenly. Including Jamie. You could feel her green eyes burning a hole in the side of your head.

“What?!” Jamie said, “You two- is he serious? Is he telling the truth?”

You turned to her, tears beginning to line your eyes. You couldn’t bring the sound out, so you mouthed “I'm sorry.”

Yunho threw down San’s hand. Seeing him reeling for a moment. “Happy now?”

He started walking away from him, seemingly unfazed, but by the look on his face you could tell that he felt bad for putting the both of you on the spot. Neither of you wanted it to come out this way mere moments from being in your arms again.

San smiled. “Don’t feel too bad, bud. We’re not the only ones who fucked someone else behind someone’s back.” He turned to look at you this time. “Isn’t that right?”

Yunho looked back at him, following San’s mischievous gaze directly to you. Fear overtook you. Your face fluttered with shame as you watched the realization hit him on what happened. He knows. A tear streamed down your cheek.

“Let me tell ya’. She tastes just as good as I remembered-“

A few heavy gasps filled the room. Shocked and frightened shrieks left you and Jamie’s mouths as Yunho’s fist cracked across San’s jaw. Completely knocking him off balance. He was so fast that you hadn’t even noticed Yunho lunge at him in the first place. Before you or the guys could scramble to stop either of them from retaliating further, San was already recovering from the punch. He spat out blood that had gathered in his mouth from the sudden appearance of a cut on his lip. He turned on his toes, dealing back the same blow to Yunho’s face despite his size. The hit was much more vicious, sending crimson spattering across his cheek. But he did not stop. He swung blind again. Yunho was fast but San was faster. He stepped back just in time. The crowd backed away as well, scared of the fight ensuing.

“Guys, enough!” You screamed out but they hadn’t heard you, or they did but just didn’t care.

The two of them were scrapping like they were in the streets. One punch more lethal than the last. The once beautifully polished floor was now ruined with the droplets and spatters of their blood. And they didn’t stop, despite the efforts of their friends trying to pull them off of one another. Yeosang and Jongho grabbed desperately at the back of Yunho’s suit. Seonghwa and Mingi tried to grab San. Wooyoung was in the middle and tried to pull them both apart with the help of Hongjoong, but they didn’t budge. It was chaos. They were yelling and the people were screaming, but drawing closer to see the fight while others fled. Somehow Yunho had toppled over San. He straddled him, dealing blow after blow. San tried to fight back but to no avail. You couldn’t watch this anymore.

You fought out of Jamie’s hold on you and rushed into the middle. You moved Hongjoong aside just in time before Yunho cocked his hand back.

Both of your hands latched around his forearm and you pulled. “Yunho stop!”

Yunho quickly craned his neck back to see who had grabbed him. He was completely blinded by rage that he hadn’t even noticed it was you for a second. His cheek had been cut and was bleeding. His bottom lip was also split and there was a small cut above his eyebrow. His hair was a slight mess, leaving a few strands dangling in his face, stuck to his forehead from sweat.

You reached out to touch his face, brushing across his cheek lightly coming in contact with the blood that was dripping. “Please.”

His vision slightly began to clear as the scowl he had on his face diminished and his breathing slowed. Someone came pushing their way through the crowd at that moment. You were sure someone called the police, but it was a lone woman in a long, gold ball gown style dress. Dark hair fell down her slender shoulders and there was a look of annoyance on her face.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!” Veronica boomed.

She looked down at San who was sputtering and laughing all the same, Yunho who was pulling himself off of him, standing beside you weakly. And then over at you. Veronica’s eyes sparked between yours for a moment and you could see understanding in them. Not empathy, but a realization that this was somehow your fault, which wasn’t too far off in hindsight. All you didn’t calculate was that they would start fistfighting in the middle of the ballroom. Veronica moved over to San, dropping even elegantly, beside him to see how badly he was hurt.

Yunho wiped the blood from his lip with his own thumb before turning to Veronica. “Nice party.” He said before slinking away into the crowd that parted ways for him.

You looked down at San who also watched him leave, trying to sit up slowly on the floor with Veronica and Wooyoung’s help. Bright red bruises were all over his face.

“You were so tired of being miserable alone that you had to bring everybody else down with you. Well, congratulations, San. Now we’re even.”

Jamie rested a hand on the side of your arm, pulling you back the way Yunho had gone. “Come on, he isn’t worth it.”

“Yeah… he isn’t.” You and Jamie followed after Yunho, sure not to lose him again this time.

You had never seen Yunho so angry before. You’ve never seen him snap like that much less hurt anyone in the process. Especially someone he once called a friend. He simply just exploded. Your mind was beginning to run with everything you had heard about Yunho up until this point; trying to comb over every moment you spent together to see if you missed something—anything— that could make his impulsive aggression make sense.

There’s a lot of things about me you don’t know.

Believe me when I say: he’s not the guy you think he is.

Did you really miss something? You shook the thought from your mind and continued to chase after him, following his figure as he made his way outside. Jamie called after him, but he didn't stop. His current state was earning him some terrified sideways glances from passersby who were curiously heading inside to see what all the racket was. Yunho had not stopped his trek until he reached the valet who rushed off as soon as he came.

Yunho was pacing back and forth in the still night. The heels of his shoes clicked across the stony pathway as his hands rubbed across his face. You could see now the red marks that were on his knuckles. Some were minorly scraped, but most of them had dark wounds on them. If they would have undergone any more damage, they would have started bleeding even worse. You were happy that you stepped in when you did.

“Are you okay?” You said in a soft whisper as if you were afraid of awakening a beast of some kind.

“I’m fine..” His voice was almost as soft as yours, but without emotion.

“M-Maybe we should go to a hospital or something. Those cuts can get infected.” Jamie suggested.

You nodded your head in agreement. “Yeah. Yeah. Maybe that’s best. Are you sure you're-”

“I said I’m fine.” He snapped. You and Jamie instinctively took a step back. He had never raised his voice at either of you and you could tell that he instantly regretted it, but the anger was still there so he didn't think to apologize for any of it.

“This is my fault.” You spoke up, putting your face in your hands as you plopped down on the steps of the hall. “This wasn't supposed to happen. I’m so stupid.”

Jamie went to comfort you, rubbing her hands across your backside.

“I wasn’t supposed to find out, you mean?” Yunho interjected, his words accusatory.

Lifting your head from your palms you looked at him. He had stopped pacing around now, only stood gawking at you. He looked extremely disappointed, hurt, angry. At you. At San. Probably the world. You deflated on the steps.

“No.. that’s not what I-”

“Do you still love him?” He asked suddenly.

“No!” You said defensively. “No. Of course not.”

“So, you just had sex with him for old times’ sake? Jesus..” He rubbed his hand across his forehead. You sank further.

“Yunho, calm down.” Jamie said. “Let's just hear her out.”

“I’m not hearing anything worth listening to.” Yunho scoffed in disbelief at their current circumstance. “I can't believe this..”

“We just ran into each other while I was looking for you! Everything happened so fast, I wasn't thinking. We were talking, and things got heated, and-” You slowed yourself, trying to gather the right words. “and it happened. I wanted to tell you myself, but I didn't think he would blow up like that after I-”

“After you what?”

Yunho and Jamie had given you their full attention. They were looking at you expectantly, waiting on the next part of your story. Something that would be the final puzzle piece to the mystery of how this whole thing started in the first place. Your eyes found Yunho’s; wet with your tears. You tried to blink them away, but they stung as they fell down your cheeks. You licked them off with your tongue, tasting the saltiness of them.

“After we were done talking… I told him about us.” You said, your voice cracking under the weight. “I told him that I didn’t love him. I couldn't.” Your eyes dropped from Yunho’s, looking into your lap while you toyed with the fabric of your dress. “Because I’m in love with you.”

Both Yunho and Jamie looked at you, eyes wide. Yunho appeared like he was going to speak, but was stopped by the valet who pulled up in his vehicle. The man walked around the car and hesitantly handed the keys to Yunho and stepped away back to his post. Yunho fuddled with the keys in his grasp and tossed them over to Jamie who fumbled them for a moment, but righted herself.

“Why are you giving these to me?” She tilted her head to the side like a bewildered puppy.

“I need to clear my head. You two can head to the house. I’ll pick the car up later.” His tone was more commanding than anything. He started to walk away and you stood to your feet.

“Yunho, come on! We can just talk about this at home.” You pleaded, sounding more desperate than you wanted to, knowing that his leaving was your fault.

“We’ll talk later. Maybe.”

He walked without another word around the line of cars that wrapped around the building. The darkness engulfed his figure until he was completely out of sight. You felt a pain form in your chest; having to catch yourself to breathe through the discomfort. The feeling you felt was similar to someone snatching a stool out from underneath your feet when it was all you had to keep you balanced. A sound louder than tearing metal as you heard your heart shatter into pieces—the same heart that he had helped you mend, had also been destroyed by him. If it weren’t for Jamie who held onto you dutifully, you would have collapsed right there in the dirt. Physically and emotionally exhausted from the night.

Jamie softly touched your arm and motioned for the car. “He’ll be okay, let’s go home.”

The car ride was silent for the most part other than the late night radio that played at a considerably low volume. Your head rested on your arm whilst you stared out the passengers’ side window, letting the wind from outside brush against the dry tear stains on your cheeks. The buildings you drove by whipped past, their shapes melting into one another. Their lights were only blinding for a moment, but it was better than staring down at your phone and hoping that you would get a message from Yunho.

Occasionally, Jamie would peer over to look at you. Maybe afraid that you would take your previous jokes of jumping out of the car in the middle of the freeway more seriously this time. Though, it wasn't something you hadn’t considered. There was so much that you wanted to say to Jamie, but you didn’t know where to start. You knew she was curious, but she didn’t press you for information even against her better judgment.

“Hey.” She started. “About… what happened back there? I hope you don’t blame yourself for all of that. You can’t control people’s actions ya’ know.”

“It was my fault anyway. I provoked San. I… slept with him. What happened between them is because of me.” You admitted, your gut wrenching at the words.

“You didn’t know he would try and pick a fight with him though. Plus, he was drunk. I don’t even think he’ll remember any of it. Well, with the way Yunho left him, maybe he will in the morning.” Jamie sighed, stopping briefly at a red light. “Look, I don’t know how you feel right now in great detail and maybe I’ll never get it, but don’t let this bury you. I’m sad that you felt like you couldn’t come to me with this— believe me I’m shocked, but not as shocked as you think. I just wouldn’t have figured that everything with you and Yunho had gotten as far as it had. I knew he liked you from before San, but-“

You perked up. Turning around to face Jamie in your seat. “He what?”

“He didn’t tell you? Whoops..” Jamie gritted her teeth and inhaled sharply. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Well, you kind of already did! He liked me before San?” You prodded for more information.

“Look, hey! I don’t know all the details, but I was friends with Yunho before you, so naturally we told each other everything. Then, when you came along, he didn’t say much, but he told me he liked you. A LOT. Then when you met everyone else, including San, well… the rest was history.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” You blurted.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were having sex with him?!” Jamie bit back.

You slinked back into your seat. “Fair point. I’m sorry about all of this Jamie. I really wanted to tell you everything from the beginning. It was just so much to unpack, I didn’t know what to say.”

Jamie let out a soft breath through her nose, gearing up the car again as the light changed to green and continued driving down the street.

“I’m not mad at you. More left out, I guess. Trust me, I don’t need to know that two of my best friends were bumping uglies and how or where, but a little heads up would have sufficed.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry…” You reached your hand out towards Jamie’s hand and grabbed ahold of it. “You’re my best friend. You always have my back, and I’m grateful for you.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m not going anywhere. So, what are you going to do about Yunho?”

“I don’t know. I feel like he hates me now.”

“He could never hate you. Maybe he just needs time for now. Don’t give up on him, that boy can’t live without you.”

You nodded and turned to look out the window. “Yeah..I hope so.”

계속하다

Two months later…

Work was just as tedious as always. The boss was getting on your nerves about some paperwork you had already filed a month ago, but he never bothered to check and probably lost it. It was getting late now, you and a few of your other co-workers had been the last stragglers and all you wanted to do was finish up the work you needed so that you could get home. You and Jamie had planned to meet up for dinner at a local tteokbokki spot that you had yet to try, but she was still stuck in Jinju for business. So, you decided to pick up some extra hours at work as well.

You clicked away on your keyboard; unmotivated and robotic in your approach to the case file you were working on. You took steady sips of your energy drink, which was probably a bad idea in the grand scope of things but that was how you got things done nowadays. You barely slept ever since that night, and you couldn’t work well otherwise so you depended on energy shots and caffeine to keep you alert.

Your phone chimed suddenly and you almost knocked over your tumbler cup trying to retrieve it. You scrambled for stability, dropping your head as a relieved, but anxious sigh exited your mouth. Righting the cup, you hurriedly checked your phone only to see a message from some clothing company you shopped at before text you about a new sale. Disappointed, you went to your other message threads, scrolling to his name, which wasn’t far down. Tapping on it, you saw all of the messages you had sent him over the last two months since that night, but there was never an answer. Some of the messages in the beginning were paragraphs, some short and some long. You apologized to him over and over wanting to explain everything. Some were you lashing out in frustration over the fact that he wouldn’t answer you or give you the time of day. The lengths of your text to him dwindled over time. You messaged him about festivals in the area, movies that were coming out soon, or video games you think he would be interested in. You sent texts wishing him well. Texts asking how he was. Still nothing.

Jamie tried to keep you hopeful, telling you that he was just busy traveling or work got in the way, but you knew the truth: he was done with you. Your last message to him was a week ago.

I’m really sorry for everything, Yunho. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t. I want to fix it. I miss you, but if you don’t feel the same then…I don’t blame you. I’m sorry again, but I don’t think I can go without you anymore. I guess this is goodbye.

Just reading it again felt like someone was using your heart as target practice and you quickly swiped out of the message. You didn’t expect him to forgive you for what happened, at least not right away. But you had not expected complete radio silence either. The way you two had left things wasn’t ideal, and you desperately wanted to fix them with him, but he just wouldn’t let you. Like you said before, you couldn’t blame him for the way things were now. You just wished they were different.

You finished up the last of your work and printed everything out, stuffing it in a manila folder and depositing it in the mailbox on your boss's door for him to check in the morning. You gathered your things and tidied up your workspace. You could do your timesheet later when you were home, you just wanted to get out of here. Saying your goodbyes to your coworkers, you stepped out of the office and took the elevator down to the base floor.

The security guard was mainly the only one in the area, watching over the front desk. The two of you said your goodbyes as well as you stepped out into the night air of Seoul. There was a small trickle of rain, but you weren’t bothered by it too much. You jogged to the end of the street corner and raised your hand for an oncoming taxi to take you home. Once he stopped for you, you climbed inside and let him drive off, telling him your desired destination.

You followed your new set routine with Jamie and let her know that you were leaving work and heading home. Since you two were primarily separated these days for work, it was a good update strategy. She answered within minutes.

제이미

Be safe. Wont be home until tomorrow! Know you didn’t eat anything so I ordered you food. Should be outside by the time you get there. enjoyyyyy ♡

You smiled down at your phone and thanked her. You don’t know what you would do without Jamie. She was probably your only constant in this ever changing world and you loved her for it.

The ride lasted another fifteen minutes and you were outside of your apartment building. You slid the driver cash and thanked him before getting out of the car. The rain was starting to pick up, so you placed your bag over your head and ran to the entryway. You punched in your apartment code and the door buzzed, granting you entry into the nicely decorated and warm foyer. There was a large front desk where two people sat watching monitors. A single overhead chandelier illuminated the space around you in a bright orange, and there was a white carpet that stopped just halfway info the center of the room. The ones at the front desk greeted you kindly as you passed, slightly damp from the oncoming storm, walking further into the building where the first four sets of elevators were for your wing. You pressed the button to go up to the tenth floor and waited as the elevator came down from its last stop. When the machine chimed, the doors opened and a few people stepped off leaving you to enter the elevator alone, which you didn’t mind.

You just had another large space to yourself. The elevator rose higher and higher and you watched each floor change one after another. Finally, the tenth floor came and you skipped off of it. You walked down the hall, spotting your door, which was just in the center. The stairwell was not far from it, and you were reminded that you should start using the stairs more often. There was also a man leaning over the railing, jet black hair blinding you from his face. He had on a dark coat and rings, and looked like he was in deep thought, letting his thumb toy with his body lip. You didn’t really pay him any mind, but you didn’t recognize him either. Probably just another tenant. You came to stop at your door where a bag of food was laid at the foot of the wood. You bent over to pick it up and punched in the alarm lock pin. The door’s mechanism whirred and disjointed. You pushed down the handle to enter and stopped at the sound of your name. Startled, you whipped around. The man had turned around to face you, an anxious glance in his eyes. Your irises adjusted on his face for a moment and your heart dropped into the pits of your stomach.

“Yunho?” You almost had not recognized him without his blonde hair. It threw you for a moment, but more so that he was at your front door. “I didn’t know it was you, you look different.”

“In the flesh..” He straightened himself and cleared his throat, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Can we talk?”

Irritation grew in you. “Now you want to talk to me?” You spoke roughly. You didn’t mean to give him an attitude, but a part of you wasn’t sorry for it. He had ghosted you for two months and now he wanted to talk about that night?

“Please.” He said. It sounded more like he was commanding you, than requesting you even in that soft voice of his.

You stared at him and sighed, defeated. You couldn’t be upset at him, no matter how angry you were deep down. You turned and opened the door, setting your things down on the table in the hall and motioned him to step in. He did so without hesitation, walking slowly into the apartment like he hadn’t been here a thousand times over. The both of you kicked off your shoes and you closed the door behind him, letting the air thicken with the sudden tension. It was so thick that it was almost impenetrable. You felt uncomfortable walking around your own home.

You offered him something to drink, but he declined. He instead took off his thick coat, revealing a black short sleeve shirt with some design on it that you could not fully make out. A gold chain was hidden behind the collar that went up to his neck and now glimmered in the light overhead. You walked over to the kitchen island and leaned against it, Yunho sat on the back of the couch, rather uncomfortably due to his long legs, but stayed there anyway.

“I’m sorry for popping up unannounced. I should have told you, but..” He folded his arms. “I had just come off a flight, and it would have been rude if I didn’t answer everything else you sent.”

So, he did see them.

“You ignored everything else anyway. It wouldn’t have made much of a difference.”

Yunho nodded. “I deserved that.”

“So you’ve been traveling this whole time?” You asked, slightly unconvinced.

Yunho shrugged. “Not the whole time, but for most of it. I was in the US for work.”

“I see.”

“Look, it may not mean much now, but I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to say to you after everything that happened. I really tried to, but I couldn’t express what I was feeling well enough. I’ve never been good at that stuff. I read everything. Even the last one. It took a lot for me to come see you to say this, but I’m not here to hear you apologize anymore. I’m here to apologize.”

You listened to him, swallowing the thick clump of saliva that was stuck in your throat. “Why now?”

“Because it was wrong of me to leave how I did, twice.” Yunho said. “I tried to forget about you. I was so upset and confused by everything then, and what you said to me only confused me more. I didn’t know what to think. As time went on, I realized that I wasn’t even upset that you and San… you know. I mean I was, for a while, but the more I thought about it, it wasn’t just that. It was because I thought I lost you to him, again.”

“Lost me to him?” You stopped yourself to think. The conversation you had with Jamie in the car coming back to you in waves. “Because you wanted me before he did.”

Yunho’s eyes flickered up to you. “How did you know that? It was Jamie, wasn’t it?”

You nodded. Yunho laughed and shook his head. “Yeah. I wanted to ask you out. He knew it, but he swooped in. The rest well, you know. I have always hated that son of a bitch since then, but for the sake of the friendship, I buried it and the feelings I had for you.”

“So, did you plan to sleep with me that night as some kind of revenge or something?”

“No. Same reason you slept with him: it just happened like that.” Yunho said confidently. It was a dig for sure and you felt it, but he wasn’t wrong.

“I deserved that.” You stared down at the ground, admitting your wrong in the situation.

“I hate to say that I read your last message a little too late. I should have just taken some time and gathered my thoughts and talked to you, but I was being childish, selfish. I didn’t consider how you felt at that time. And I’m really sorry.” Yunho moved off of the couch and started making a beat towards you, slowly. “But I don’t agree with what you said.”

Your eyes returned to his. “What?”

“You said you think this is goodbye. It’s not.” Yunho was only a few steps away from you now. You tried to mesh yourself with the kitchen island. “It can’t be because we’re not saying goodbye.”

Yunho was looming over you now. His size alone was intimidating. The way he gazed down at you through the strands of his dark hair was enough to send a tingle down your back. You had to completely look upwards in order to see him.

“Maybe we should.” You didn’t even believe that, but with everything that had happened between you. Maybe San was right. Maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought. Maybe you didn’t love him. Maybe he didn’t love you. “We don’t need anything complicated anymore .”

“I don’t want anything complicated. I want you.” Yunho placed both of his hands on either side of your body, locking you in the center of the counter. Past images flashed in your head. His scent. That same familiar scent wafting against you. Those eyes that stared daggers into your soul. The way his lips felt against yours. The way his hands caressed over your body like they were searching for something important. “I want to hold you when I want to. Kiss you. Touch you. I don’t want to sneak around with you anymore. I don’t care about anything that happened before. I just want you.”

You shut your eyes for a long moment as he pulled you into him with his words alone. He was so close to you that you were almost afraid to breathe, scared that if it took you too long to think that it could be the very end of this moment entirely. You didn’t want it to end. You wanted Yunho— you wanted to be with him.

“What if I’m not right for you?” You muttered.

“You’re perfect.” Yunho rested his forehead against yours and spoke softly as if he were pleading with you. “I need you, baby. Forgive me.”

You felt yourself unravelin his hands. Your convictions held no weight against the feelings that were churning inside of you again just from being in close proximity with him. The days and weeks without being with Yunho had blended together in a messy, and misconstrued mixture that you had lost track of time. Four years ago, San had stopped the clock on your existence, but Yunho had made time move again. You felt alive with him. Your heart pumped with enthusiasm and longed for your next meeting. Your hand reached towards his face that was now free from the cuts and bruises that you remembered. You ran your thumb over the spot just below his eye, feeling the tenderness of his skin. Traveling down to his lip, remembering where the thin cut was.

“I forgive you..” You whispered back to him.

Yunho did not want to waste more time and neither did you as he took the opportunity to erase the small gap between you. Especially with his wing span, he had no problem scooping you into his arms and crashing into your lips. Your feet had left the ground in a moment’s notice, and you were clinging to him for dear life with your legs flung haphazardly around his small waist. But with his hands gripping onto your ass, you felt stable enough to continue. His lips were exactly how you remembered them. Sweet and soft, fluffier than before, but that fiery passion was the same. Though the kiss was deep and filled with longing, it was only obvious the hunger that underlined every blissful embrace. Yunho carried you off somewhere away from the counter, but you were unaware of where he was headed considering you were handling other matters.

For a moment, your back collided gently with a wall. Yunho pinned you against it, while your fingers entangled themselves in his hair. His tongue pressed against your lips, asking for entrance before you parted them, letting his snake-like appendage traverse the depths of your mouth. You delightfully sucked on his tongue, The sloppy, wet kiss deepening with each go. You mewled approvingly and then suddenly you were on the move again. Yunho kept you steady against him as he pushed through one of the two bedroom doors in the apartment, hoping that yours was the right one.

“God, I want you so bad.” You cooed breathlessly, breaking the kiss for just a moment.

“Don’t worry baby, you’ll have me real soon.” His words were smooth, and you felt a twinge between your thighs.

Yunho walked a few more steps into the bedroom. Yunho tossed you on the bed and you laughed slightly as your body bounced from the impact. He was on top of you again in seconds, caging you inside his arms yet again; his fingers digging into the fabric of your linens. His lips collided with yours again, every peck more calculated than the last. One of Yunho’s hands cupped your face, before sliding from your cheek down to your jaw and clasping around it, holding you still while his tongue dived deeper into your mouth. He had a naturally gentle nature, but he could also be controlling when it came to the bedroom and you loved it. He gave you enough power and control for him to instantly take back when it suited him. With his lower half laying flush in between your thighs, he ground himself into you slightly. You moaned quietly against his lips, feeling the stretch of his jeans pressing against your folds. The friction sent waves of sensations through you and you could feel moisture trickling beneath the layers of your clothing.

Your hands scavenged across his body; feeling his biceps, his broad shoulders, the wideness of his back contrasting with his regularly slim build. You fisted his shirt, pulling the fabric free from it being tucked inside of his jeans, feeling the light pop in your palms once it was free. Yunho broke the kiss for a moment, still straddling you beneath him and sat up into the air, removing the bothersome piece of clothing from his body and tossing it away. The true length of him was free. His abs like ripples against the original build of his skin and you couldn’t help, but touch them. Licking against your own lips like you had come across a new meal to divulge in. The only thing that remained were his pants and that singular chain that laid lifeless against his collarbone. Yunho stared down at you the whole time, keeping your attention focused on him.

“This has to come off too,” he commanded, nodding towards your work shirt. You looked down and watched as Yunho fit a single finger into your shirt and popped every last button like it was nothing. Your chest now exposed to the cool breeze, revealing your black bralette. A sigh escaped Yunho’s lips. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

The tip of his fingers grazed against your neck, running down just where the dip of your collarbone met the lining of your breasts. Your skin bristled at his touch. His hand opened and clasped around your throat; thumb digging into your skin just a bit with the applied pressure on your jugular. He pulled you up to him, even though you were a quarter of his height sitting down, and he kissed you again. You shook yourself out of your long sleeved shirt and tossed it aside as Yunho had, not sure where it landed in the room, but you didn’t care. The hand around your throat unlatched suddenly, almost hesitant, and it was already sliding into your hair, grabbing a handful and pulling. You whined out to him, but he didn’t care. It felt good to you, like a juxtaposition to the sweetness of the kiss, and you wanted it to stay there, just a little while longer. You wanted to stay here with him forever.

The next thing you knew, you were undoing the clasp in his pants. Fiddling with the belt strap until you felt some give. It had been so long since you felt him—you wanted to have him devour you from the inside out, digging so deeply inside of you that he may strike gold. To call his name like he was too far away to hear, for him to claim you like you were his. You wanted him. You needed him.

You kissed him harder, erasing the softness from before, but dousing your kiss in hunger and desperation. Through frustrated grunts, and Yunho’s help, you managed to undo the latch on his pants, tugging them off of him. Yunho kicked them off haphazardly, keeping his focus 100% on you.

He grinned between kisses. “You’re so desperate for me to fuck you, aren’t you?”

There was a throbbing between your legs as he said this. A beat that was calling out to him, and you were aching more and more. You nodded, looking up at him pitifully.

He pushed you back against the bed, the look in his eye darker than before. Your breath hitched in your throat as he crawled back on top of you. You searched his face wildly, wondering what he was going to do next.

“Did you miss me?” He asked you softly. His hand copied the same motion as before, caressing your face first, then your neck, your chest, rubbing circles around your breast before he came to your stomach. You winced slightly, not from pain, but a slick ticklish feeling— your stomach caving under his touch.

“I missed you everyday.” You responded.

Yunho seemed to like that answer because a large smile tugged at his lips. He looked down to follow his hand making sure it was going in the right direction then back at you. His slender fingers fit right between the space in your pants and your groins, running over the mound that was concealed to him. You shifted in his grasp and sighed softly. The pad of his finger came in contact with your clit and you jolted slightly, sliding down to feel the wetness ruining your panties. He rubbed there for a while, watching you squirm and writhe beneath him.

“I can tell. You’re already soaking and I barely even touched you yet. You were always such a pretty little whore for me.” Yunho pulled his hand out and brought them up to his lips, tasting your secretions and groaning in approval of the flavor. “You taste so good, baby.”

The sight must have reached something deep in the pit of your stomach because you were even more turned on than before. You wanted him to take you right there. Not feeling embarrassed to show how much you wanted him to fuck you. For Yunho, however, that fact was obscenely obvious.

“Please Yunho,” you begged. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Yunho chuckled at your pleas, readjusting himself at the foot of the bed now. “I guess I spoiled you too much before.” He reached down and dug his fingers on the inside of your work pants and tugged you towards him, you yelped as you slid against the framing of the bed, your pants loosening from around your waist and exposing your panties. “You’re such a brat when you’re horny.”

He swiveled your pants off of you completely, raising your hips so that it could help him more. He stared down at you, looking at the wet spot in your panties and the fragility of your body. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip and he smiled, dastardly. Like he was thinking of something. You on the other hand were growing slightly impatient. Your inner walls were pulsating like crazy. Your mind was whirring with all the possible ways that he could fuck you and how horribly you wanted him go do so. The feelings you felt were agony, and you knew he felt them too with the hard-on forming beneath his boxers. You watched now as he rubbed himself dutifully, caressing his size beneath the fabric; you felt a moan coming just from watching him. You went to touch yourself as well, but Yunho smacked your hand away.

“Not so fast princess. You only touch yourself when I say so.” He almost seemed like he was going to bite you the way he spoke so roughly. It did not deter you, but you could see he was irritated. It made you want to press him further.

“So, why don’t you touch me?” You asked in a coy voice.

“Punishment. I may not be mad at you, but it’s the least you deserve for now.” He said, finding the smile in his words again.

“You’re cruel.”

Yunho shrugged. “It’s the way the world works. Since you want to touch what belongs to me so badly, go ahead, but when I say stop. I mean it.”

Your eyes sparkled. Watching Yunho as he freed himself from his boxers, never taking his eyes off of you, who followed the bounce in his girth. It had been so long since you saw his mass, you wondered if he had grown. He looked bigger than before. Your cunt pulsed again. You spread your legs and slithered your hand down to your panties and pulled the moistened fabric aside, letting it crumple between your inner thigh. You ran your hand down the center folds, watching Yunho intently. He was completely in a trance watching you fondle yourself. You played with your clit, circling your fingers around it and moaning softly. Yunho ran his hand along his shaft, pumping himself, eyes locked on your body. You imagined his hand there touching you again, your juices pouring out from you and onto the bed sheets; overflowing like a running sink.

“Shit..” he mumbled under his breath. “Keep touching yourself like that. You look so sexy..”

Per his command you continued, sliding your fingers inside of yourself now and listening to the squelch of your insides. Another hand played with your breasts, grabbing and circling around each of them, giving Yunho a full show, which he seemed to utterly enjoy more than he thought. The two of you stayed like that for a while. The sensation was too good, you thought you would make yourself cum right there in front of him. You shut your eyes for a second and moaned out to the sky, calling for whatever powers there may be, but a hand stopped you from going forward, stealing your pleasure from you.

“You’re such a good girl.” Yunho said in an exasperated voice, “Now it’s my turn to make you feel good.”

He grabbed one of your legs and pushed it back towards your shoulders as he laid himself into you. You only had a brief moment to adjust as you felt Yunho rub his thick member between your bottom lips, and he watched your face as he did so. He knew you were still sensitive from how you touched yourself just a few moments before and was using that to his advantage. He knows your body too well. He knew what made you tick and that’s what made him dangerous when he was in control. He smacked his girth against your wetness a few times before slipping into you without resistance.

“Oh my god,” Your brow furrowed. Eyes rolling towards the ceiling as the pressure inside of you built up all over again.

The moan you pushed out was loud. Too loud. You thought about the fragility of the walls around your apartment, knowing they weren’t thick enough to contain your passion. You absentmindedly apologized to them, but Yunho didn’t seem to care nor had he ever. He continued pushing himself deeply inside of you, grunting and trying to hold back his own moans. You gripped onto Yunho’s arm that was locked by your head, your nails scraping across his skin.

“Fuck, you feel even better around me than I remember.” He spoke, his voice more scratchy and gravely now.

Then he started to move. His strokes were fluid, but monstrous. Like he was doing push ups inside of you, but letting his pelvis do most of the work. His arms held him upright, bulging as he came down inside of you, plus with him holding the weight of one of your legs on his shoulder as well, he was not sparing a single motion to ensure you felt everything.

“Yun-ah..” you tried to call his name but it fell short with the moans falling through your lips.

“Look at me.” He growled, grabbing your jaw like he had earlier and forcing your gaze to him while he fucked you. “My pretty girl.”

Your eyes were locked on his, but would occasionally be distracted by the gold chain that was bouncing in your face as well. It was hypnotizing, but liberating in the sense that this was your reward for all of your efforts being good for him.

“You feel so good… fuck.” You pleaded, wrapping your other leg around his waist to deepen his strokes.

“Yeah? You miss me fucking you like this?” He asked.

You nodded weakly.

“Use your words baby.” He said with a sly grin, moving his hand from your jaw to your throat and squeezed. “Speak.”

The grip he had on you made you lightheaded. You couldn’t think properly with the way he was fucking you, more less form an intelligible sentence. Suddenly, a small but searing pain rose in your cheek as you glanced back at Yunho who had slightly popped your cheek, forcing you to pay attention to him again.

“Don’t make me repeat myself baby. Talk to me.” He said.

“I missed feeling you inside of me. I feel good with you in me.” You managed to speak through half breaths.

Yunho continued to work his magic, digging himself deeper and deeper inside of you to get you worked up. Your pussy gripped and released him, trying to keep up with his pace; gushing with the juices that he fucked out of you. Your body responded to him so well as if he was the one controlling it. He swiveled his hips and kept his strokes in a wave like motion, whilst he pounded into you, sending bursts of his aggression through your needy cunt and out through your mouth in the form of guttural moans. You held him close, clawing at his back muscles with your nails. Yunho grunted from the pain, but took it anyway. Fucking you harder than before.

Your stomach pulled. You were almost at your limit. The room was filled with the raunchy sounds of your sex, sounding like music to your ears, but probably like a fight to others. Yunho was relentless, pumping into you everything he had without mercy.

“You take me so well, like a good fucking girl.” He huffed, slamming into you forcefully. The jolts could have sent you slamming into the mattress, but they felt good.

Yunho hissed as his pace was beginning to falter. He gritted his teeth and dropped his head on the side of yours, rutting himself into you. You held him still, fingering his hair to calm him as the two of you belched your moans. His skin felt damp to the touch, but so did yours. The heat clung to your bodies from the overexertion. He was starting to sound more desperate. You were hanging on a thread of insanity. Feeling like you were going to burst at any second.

“Yunho, I’m close..” You murmured.

“Hold it, baby..” He struggled to say. “I want us to cum together.”

You nodded, trying to force the feeling down for just a little more. You didn’t want it to end, but you weren’t sure how much more you could take either, which wasn’t much at all. Yunho rolled his hips against you, sliding in out of your bundle with ease. His pace quickened for a moment and you jumped as he cursed out in your ear.

“Fuck!” He bellowed through nashed teeth. He pumped himself a few more times. “I’m about to cum. Cum with me.”

You did not hesitate to listen this time. With unleveled and shaky breaths, your eyes roll closed and you ride out the rest of his orgasm on his dick. The two of you rocking back and forth until you finally burst. You climax on him, and Yunho fills you to the brim with his cum. His groans were muffled as he hid himself in your neck, gnawing at the flesh there like it was something to hold onto. You could feel him flowing into you, covering your insides with his seed. You tried to catch your breath, letting your juices intermingle with the others. You breathed heavily together. Yunho’s back rose and fell in a broken rhythm for a moment before righting itself. He placed a kiss on your neck and sat up, still hovering over you. Your head fell back from the exhaustion.

Yunho brushed your hair from your face and looked down at you with a tired smile. There was a new found glimmer in his eye, and it sparkled much more than the chain around his neck in the light. He said nothing, only stared at you like there was nothing else in the room.

“What?” You asked softly.

He shook his head, softly caressing your hair and face before he spoke. “I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat for a second. The two of you exchanged glances and a large, and loving smile was shared between you both. For the first time since you heard those words being said, your heart felt free. No longer locked in the cage you had put it in so long ago as you finally and confidently could mutter those same words back to someone else.

“I love you too, Yunho.”

“I think we should name our kid Oli.” He said suddenly.

You rolled your eyes and groaned, hitting him in his shoulder.

“Ow what?! I’m just saying.”

“You’re so unserious.”

[many-but-one]

I used to think I was endogenic and got hate for it. Then I became exactly like the people that bullied me. Thankfully, I’m not anymore.

So I’m gonna get on here and do one of my rare syscourse posts because I have been seeing an undeniable increase of hatred on my timeline simply because I follow the did/osdd tags.

Those of you that have been around a while and have seen our posts talking about this might recall this, but we used to be very firmly anti-endo. We consider ourselves endo neutral these days mainly because we just don’t care what other people do with their lives and it’s not up to me to fake claim them or tell them how to live their life. People like to be angry at endos for spreading misinfo, when I’ve seen anti-endos do the exact same thing. Quite often, actually.

One of the biggest reasons I was anti-endo was because I was angry. I was angry at the fact that people would claim they created their system for fun when my existence as a system was full of misery and pain. Fun fact, I’m still full of misery and pain, but I was taking it out on people I didn’t even know. I was angry that I didn’t get to choose this and they did. I was angry that they got to “have fun” with it while I suffered. I hated my disorder, I hated my system. I was so angry all the time. I went on rants. I was mean. I was full of hate.

Then as I went through the therapeutic process and learned to not only tolerate but actually love my system despite all of their faults and despite all of the ways the disorder made me miserable, I realized I cared a lot less about endos. It felt less like a slap in the face that they existed. I realized that me being angry was the root of why I disliked them so much. I realized that me being angry and hateful wasn’t actually helping anyone.

However, there’s something else I want to talk about. I’ve mentioned this vaguely from time to time, but I’ve never spoken that deeply about it.

I used to think I was endo. I joined system spaces online for the first time when I was about 16-17 years old. I was the host at that time (Jules, though they have fused with like a bazillion parts since then due to therapy so now I go by Delphine) and I was having experiences of a dissociative disorder. I was dissociative, I was having amnesia gaps, I was hearing voices in my head, and it was the first time I ever had a flashback (though I didn’t really understand that’s what it was at the time.) I met the first parts I ever spoke to directly back then, parts that don’t exist the same way today thanks to healing. S, A, and “The Bad Man” (father introject) were the first three parts that spoke to me. I knew by then I had DID. But I didn’t know my trauma. All I knew was that I may have witnessed some DV when I was really young (couldn’t remember it though, I just knew my mother was severely abused by my father) and that my dad was abusive to me as a teen. I didn’t even consider the fact that I couldn’t remember most of my childhood before the age of 10-11, and everything else in my life was spotty at best. I remembered a lot of my childhood! Or so I thought. I thought my childhood was completely fine except for my dad being a bit of a dick to me when I was a teenager.

So I thought I was endogenic. I knew that I hadn’t created these parts on purpose (though A stole her name from a fanfic I had read a few years prior so I thought that maybe I did make her up) so I thought maybe birth trauma had to do with it (I was born 9 weeks premature) or maybe I had formed my parts way later in life than normal since I’d always been a “late bloomer.” I tried making friends in the system community, to try and understand what was happening to me. I had genuine traumagenic DID, but I didn’t know it. As soon as I said I was endo to anyone I would be met with such extreme vitriol that I was chased away VERY quickly. I was told I was crazy, I was told I was faking a severe disorder for attention, I was told to kill myself, I was told that I am a terrible person and stealing resources from other systems, etc. It was really bad. I never spoke about it again. I deleted my entire system-related online presence. I believed I was a horrible faker, I was crazy, everything.

Meanwhile I was actively having nightmares of witnessing extreme child torture, I was having huge gaps in my memory, I was having random bouts of extreme suicidality and was self harming almost every day. I was dissociating off my ass, I barely even got through my junior year of high school. I missed so much school due to my mental health that the public school system almost took me to court to court-order me to go to school. I didn’t even try to talk about any of this to a therapist or counselor because I was certain that I had been faking the DID and that I was actually just crazy and I didn’t want to steal resources from “actual systems.” I had multiple suicide attempts. I didn’t get help until my school ordered me to go to the mental ward and then was assigned a therapist shortly after. Then I jumped from therapist to therapist, one of which said that I must be bipolar due to my mood swings. I was misdiagnosed as bipolar I for years. Years.

Years that I could have been trying to heal from DID taken from me because I was so heavily bullied for thinking I was endogenic. I was completely convinced I had bipolar and I must have just been having a psychotic episode every time I was hearing voices or acting strangely.

I was diagnosed with DID at age 22, just a month or so shy from my 23rd birthday. I went 6 years thinking I was crazy and delusional because of the system community. The worst part? I let my anger get to me and I became exactly like them. A little less intense, definitely didn’t tell people to kts or call them names or anything, but I was angry. Angry at the fact that I’d been a system all this time, angry that it had affected my life for so long, angry that endos “made a mockery” of what the disorder actually was. Then as mentioned previously, I was able to get over that anger. It makes me incredibly sad that I used to be so vitriolic and bitter and that could have seriously impacted a system who was in the same situation I was.

This is not to say that all endos are actually systems who don’t know their trauma. Some of them are genuinely endo, and I don’t really care about that. However, there is no person on the internet who can truly decipher whether or not an endo is a traumagenic system who just doesn’t know their trauma or who is non-traumagenic. I genuinely thought with my whole chest that I had no trauma and that whatever trauma I might have had was nowhere near serious enough to cause a system, so I must be endo, right?

*Loud, incorrect buzzer noise*

Turns out I have RAMCOA related traumas and my system is made up of thousands of parts. I didn’t just have trauma, I had Trauma. Years and years of extreme and extensive child torture were hidden so well that I couldn’t have even begun to guess that’s what my trauma history was, even after I was finally diagnosed. (Though I should’ve known with how intense our gatekeeper was about never telling me Anything)

Moral of the story here is this:

Please consider that the endos you speak badly about could be traumagenic systems. And you would never know. Behind the screen they could be showing clear signs of a dissociative disorder, but you wouldn’t know unless they specifically described such experiences—and nobody is entitled to hearing about other people’s personal experiences or struggles. I didn’t get the help nor the community I desperately needed back then, a teen who felt like their life was turned upside down and shaken about at all times.

Be kind. Stop hating other people for stuff like this. It matters so, so little in the grand scheme of things. These internet dramas are so chronically online that nobody in the irl world would even begin to comprehend it. It doesn’t matter as much as you think it does. But what does matter is how you treat others, because that sticks with people forever.

That’s all I’ve got. Thank you, everyone.

[ashtxeman]

Okay this tag on my Black Friday post SENT me so I have to do it, here’s my thoughts on what every Lord in Black’s apotheosis would look like.

All - Every apotheosis causes an upsurge in violence in infected individuals and an extreme desire to spread the apotheosis globally. All infected also inherit blood, spit, tears, eye colour, etc that resembles the colour of the related Lord in Black. Use TGWDLM as an example of these phenomena. 

Wiggly - As we know from Black Friday, Wiggly’s apotheosis causes an extreme admiration for Wiggly himself. All sense of identity remains and the original individual is still conscious, but their mentality is rewired to worship Wiggly and all other previous desires and dreams are forgotten about in favour of him. Rather than being part of a hive-mind, all infected retain their own thoughts but still gather in cultish groups, led by an elected prophet with direct communication to Wiggly in the Black and White (someone like Wilbur or Linda). Appearance-wise, the infected may appear with green spots or tufts of fur across their body, and more notably have tentacles wrapped around their limbs. In other cases the infected may be able to summon tentacles from their mouths or backs and these can function as additional appendages.

Pokey - Of course we know all about Pokey’s apotheosis from TGWDLM, but I’ll drop some additional stuff anyway. All sense of original identity is erased upon infection, internally and mentally the infected individual is entirely rewritten but retains the notable qualities and mannerisms of the individual they used to be, largely to fool the uninfected into a more vulnerable position by presenting as the people they love. The infected have an innate desire to sing and dance and to accompany this inherit the ability to do so as if they are a trained professional, making for some interesting numbers. Song and dance is a primary form of communication amongst the infected and they favour this above talking, as it can be used to daze the uninfected. This apotheosis functions as a hive-mind which is controlled by a central system or a ‘leading man’, mainly Pokey himself but equally so Paul Matthews. Appearance-wise the infected look largely the same as before infection, with the exception of them now producing the apotheosis-inducing goo, increasing the level of contamination. The infected retain any injuries sustained to them prior to infection, whether deadly or not, but do not experience pain or symptoms related to them once infection has taken place.

Tinky - Arguably the most chaotic of the bunch, those under Tinky’s influence inherit his unpredictable nature as well as his laugh, essentially becoming inferior versions of Tinky himself. The original individual remains but their personality is altered and heightened to make a ‘bastard’ version of who they were before, meaning they are the worst version of themselves, think Hyde from Jekyll and Hyde. The infected are purposely altered from their original selves to be recognisable but completely insufferable to be around, just a bunch of assholes really. Appearance-wise this apotheosis changes people most, with infected often gaining yellow spots or tufts of fur (similar to Wiggly’s), alongside blue tongues and horizontal goat pupils. In rare cases the infected may gain horns and pointed ears, furthering their likeness towards Tinky’s. The infected are natural hoarders and enjoy collecting things for their ‘toy box’, becoming violent if anything of theirs is threatened. Despite this territorial nature, the infected enjoy being amongst each other and can often be found in large groups, or ‘herds’, hunting the uninfected or creating other entertainment for themselves for the shits and giggles. At times, upon the discovery of an uninfected individual, the infected may claim the uninfected as their own and toy around with them instead of infecting them (sound familiar, teddy bear?).

Blinky - In contrast to Tinky this is probably the least chaotic apotheosis, although upon initial infection people experience an extreme surge in violence and attack anybody around them with the intent to kill, and stop at nothing until their goal is fulfilled. During this period it is possible to reverse the apotheosis, although difficult, however once this period has passed the apotheosis is irreversible and the individual is now fully infected. When fully infected, people essentially act as walking cameras, wandering around aimlessly and keeping watch for any uninfected. Individuals will retain a sense of self but become quiet, hardly ever speaking. Instead the infected use blinking or otherwise telepathy as their primary form of communication, as this is more secretive and prevents the interference of the uninfected, making it easier to arrange ambushes and spread apotheosis. Appearance-wise the infected gain several more eyes on their body, mostly the cheeks and arms, of which they are able to see out of simultaneously. This makes them keen observers and incredibly difficult to avoid alerting. Infected may also gain purple discolouration on their body, primarily around the hands and face. If an uninfected individual makes eye contact with an infected individual, they will experience paranoia and fear that they are being watched, making them easier to ambush.

Nibbly - A close second to the chaos that Tinky creates, those under Nibbly’s apotheosis gain a similar territorial nature, although for food instead of trinkets and toys. Infected people develop an insatiable appetite and if their access to food is threatened they will quickly become violent. The infected function in an almost opposite manner to Pokey’s apotheosis, preferring to keep to themselves rather than join in groups, however this preference can change in certain situations. For example, two infected will fight amongst themselves, but if an uninfected individual is spotted they will immediately team up to spread the apotheosis. Food is a popular contaminant of the infection and this makes it incredibly difficult for the uninfected to survive. Appearance-wise, the infected have larger mouths and can even gain extra teeth, usually in the mouth but sometimes appearing on other areas of the body. They are able to unhinge their jaw which makes for a formidable bite. The infected often froth at the mouth and this contributes heavily to the contamination of food. Additionally, the infected can have pink spots on their body or pink streaks in their hair, and their mannerisms change to adopt a less complex speech pattern with an accompanying gravelly voice. Individuals under this apotheosis operate best at night as they are good at stalking people and require less people present for an ambush.