#the fear the feeling of responsibility has burned its way into them

[braveburned]

profoundly normal about guardian / charge relationships in horror media . love when two characters are sent through the maws of hell and one feels desperately responsible for the younger, be it for an actual personal connection or a sense of obligation. when the protector knows they can try to take the brunt of the situation, try to shield the younger as best they can, but they cannot take them away or will this to not be happening. there is no savior, only a companion. only comfort. but it's not enough to keep the monsters away, not entirely. the only way out of the fire is through, and the protector will make goddamn sure the charge makes it.

[emchant3d]

It’s the fourth time this week Eddie’s been late without a phone call.

Sure, his job has him working weird hours - Steve gets it. But he also knows his schedule and he knows the days Eddie works at the bar til close and he knows the days he’s supposed to be home before dark, and he hasn’t had a closing shift once this week. 

Yet he came home near ten tonight, and Steve had been worried and nervous and yes, sure, a little - a lot - insecure about it, and maybe he’d lashed out first, or maybe Eddie had, Steve doesn’t know, but he knows they’re standing in the living room shouting at one another and it’s all coming to a head and he can’t stop himself, can’t keep from getting loud and angry and–

"Do you even want to fucking be here?" he yells.

"Not when you're acting like this!" Eddie says, and Steve's throat goes tight like there's a fist wrapped around it. 

Not when he's acting like this, he thinks. Not when he's being too needy. Too pushy. Too demanding.

Something in his brain feels like it rewires. Their relationship flips on its head, and suddenly fear is coiling in Steve's stomach, not anger. 

He'll lose Eddie if he keeps pushing like this. If he demands too much of his time, pulls him away from what he'd rather be doing, makes himself too much work, he'll lose him. Eddie always said he wasn't going anywhere. That he loves Steve, wants to be with him, will never get tired of him. Steve was a fucking idiot to take that at face value.

He feels sick to his stomach. He wants to apologize, wants to tell Eddie to forget all about what he said, wants to show how sorry he is, but between one moment and the next he's feeling like a guest in his own home, and he's very familiar with how it feels to be unwelcome.

So instead he shakes his head. Eddie wants to be left alone, probably. Doesn't want to see Steve when he's mad at him. Doesn't want to deal with him. He'll make himself scarce.

"I'm staying in the guest room tonight," he says stiffly, and turns away, only faltering a little when Eddie mumbles 'what the fuck ever' behind him. He flinches when Eddie slams the front door and closes the spare room so quietly it barely even clicks.

– Eddie gets home late.

Like, late-late. Steve hears the front door open as he's staring at the clock on the bedside table, the bright red numbers burning into his vision. Why did they even put a fucking clock in here, he thinks. It's the guest room. Why did he insist on furnishing this room like someone might live in it? Like this was a home people would be in and out of, like their family would come and stay with them long enough to need an alarm clock on the bedside table?

Desperate, a voice in his head hisses at him, desperate and needy and full of wishful thinking that someone would want to stay around sad little Steve Harrington long enough to need anything--

Eddie's coming down the hallway. He's trying to be quiet, but he forgot to take his shoes off at the door and his Reeboks squeak a little against the hardwood. It's a familiar sound. Comforting, usually. It's how he knows his honey's made it home safe when he's out late, that tell-tale squeak and the little stumbles when he's tipsy and making his way through their home after a long gig.

There was no gig tonight, though, and Eddie's footsteps are steady and even despite the soft sound of rubber on wood. He isn't drunk, Steve doesn't think - and is that better or worse? That he left after a fight and didn't even go somewhere to drink it off. Where has he been, if not their usual bar to think about what they'd spat at one another, trying to think of solutions, of apologies?

And is Steve really owed an apology? He was overbearing. He was pushy. He was demanding and authoritative and too fucking much all over again, and Eddie lashed out in response, and does Steve deserve an apology after all that? He's been going around in circles with himself all evening about it, arguing in his own head, saying yes I deserve one because my feelings were hurt and no I don't deserve one because I lashed out first and how does he answer this for himself? He doesn't know.

He knows he'd do just about anything to make the empty feeling in his chest go away, though. Knows that he'd shove his hurt away and eat his words and apologize to Eddie and never, ever push again if it meant he knew where they stood. If it meant Eddie would forgive him and never storm out like that again, if it meant Steve knew he wouldn't be left alone like this to wonder if Eddie was coming back.

And he feels so dramatic - he can hear Robin's voice already, telling him it was just a fight, that there's no reason to get this worked up about it, but Steve can't help it. Slammed doors and loneliness are the soundtrack to his childhood and he can't help the panic he feels when someone he loves leaves.

"Do you want to be here?" he'd asked, like a fucking idiot, and Eddie hadn't said yes. Steve swallows around the lump that's taken up permanent residence in his throat. Reaches to swipe a hand over his face, rubbed raw, eyes burning with tears he won't let fall because what right does he have to cry? He brought this on himself. He always brings it on himself.

Eddie's feet are still squeaking their way slowly down the hallway, he's trying not to wake Steve - or is he just trying not to be noticed? Impossible, if Eddie Munson is in a room Steve is going to notice, how can he not? He's been yanked into that gravitational pull and there's no escape for him, not anymore, he's a moon circling around the solar system and Eddie is the sun, burning bright and pulling focus and what is Steve to do in the face of that?

He keeps his eyes fixed on the clock. Watches the display change when a minute's passed. Feels his heartbeat stutter when Eddie's shuffling, squeaking steps pause outside the guest room.

They keep a hall light on at night. It's on a dimmer, turned down way low, but neither of them do well with complete darkness. Too many nightmares, too many shadows haunting and hunting the both of them. Steve can see the muted glow of it from beneath the door.

He can also see when Eddie comes to a stop because his feet block that light. Two shadows in the doorframe, obscuring the soft haze of warm orange that creeps in a half-moon over the carpet, and Steve stops breathing. There's a soft shifting noise, fabric over wood, a gentle thunk when Eddie leans against the guest room door, and Steve almost calls out to him. Almost says I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, please don't leave again, please don't leave me, but the words stick in his throat. Ball's in Eddie's court, as it should be when Steve fucked up so bad, when he tried to ruin it all, when he made Eddie so mad that he left when he promised Steve he would never do that. Eddie's a good man. Keeps his word. Steve's the problem, Steve is always the goddamn problem, always will be, ruins and stains everything he fucking touches–

The shadow disappears. Steve squeezes his eyes shut so tight he sees lights popping behind his lids. Those shuffling squeaking steps continue their way down the hall. Steve feels like he's going to throw up but he didn't have dinner so there's nothing in his belly but bile and nothing comes up even though his throat is tight and his stomach is fucking rolling.

The bedroom door - their bedroom door - creaks on its hinges. Steve keeps meaning to put some WD-40 on it but he kind of likes that it makes a noise, that when he's asleep it's just loud enough to wake him halfway and tell him to anticipate the warm wash of tobacco and sandalwood that will cloud him when Eddie slips beneath the covers. Lets him know he's about to be grabbed and groped a little bit, sweet little kisses pressed to his shoulder and neck and jawline until he's got a face tucked into the curve of his throat, until he's giving a sleepy smile and winding his arms around a trim waist and dragging Eddie in close, sputtering and laughing tiredly as wild hair gets in his face and mouth before he falls asleep again, wrapped tight around the love of his life.

None of that tonight, apparently - and he doesn't blame him. No, he hears the bedroom door creak and it feels like a punishment that he deserves and his eyes burn and burn and burn and his face is wet now, he can't help it, and he wipes at it again angrily, takes the soft blanket to his face and why is it so soft why does Steve try so hard when he knows he won't get anything back why does he try to build a home when he's never had one and never will and is going to lose the one he's clawed onto so desperately and tried so hard to keep–

The door creaks again. Steve takes a stuttering breath. Eddie's steps are soft now as they come down the hallway, bare feet on the floor, almost silent as he creeps his way closer. Steve clenches his teeth so hard his jaw aches, anything to hold back the sounds he wants to make - he can't let Eddie hear him. He can't let Eddie know he's crying. That's manipulative, isn't it? Crying in front of the person he hurt? He won't do it, won't be that selfish, but that shadow appears at the base of the door again. Steve can't help the shaky inhale he takes, and it sounds so fucking loud in the quiet of the guest room, choked and echoing. 

"Baby?" Eddie says, voice low and quiet, rapping so gently against the door with one knuckle. "You in there, Stevie?" 

Just the sound of him is enough to send his heart crashing around in his ribcage, fluttering and jumping and making Steve tense. He wants to answer but he can’t get the words to form, his throat feels sealed shut, and he wonders if he should answer even if he were able because what could Eddie possibly have to say right now? It can’t be anything good and Steve doesn’t know if he can take it right now, in this room that makes him feel like a guest in his own home - but isn’t he always a guest? Isn’t that what he’s made to be, a temporary stop in everyone else’s story?

But he’s not ready for Eddie to move past him yet. Not tonight. Let it happen in the morning if it has to happen, let him put this off just a little longer. Just please, not tonight. Not yet.

But Eddie’s never been known for his patience, and the click of the latch has Steve slamming his eyes closed. Too late to roll over and hide his face, but he’s got enough time to duck down and tuck most of his features into a pillow. He tries to let his body relax, to let the tense lines of his muscles uncoil and his shoulders drop and his fists unclench, but he can’t tell if he’s managed it and the ache in his palms from his blunt nails tells him maybe he did, but it won’t help much.

Eddie makes his way across the carpet in silent steps, and the mattress dips with his weight as he sits on the edge of it. Steve’s fingers twitch to reach for him, but he just curls them into the sheets instead and hopes the motion looks absent enough to have happened in his sleep. 

He smells sandalwood and tobacco and feels the warmth from Eddie being so near but it feels like there’s a wall between them, one he can’t cross even if he tries, one he’s barred from so much as touching. 

He works hard to keep his breathing even but it’s hitching now and then despite his best efforts, shaky and too loud in the silent room, but he keeps up the charade even though the end of it all is perched right in front of him. And it’s Eddie who puts an end to it. It was always Eddie who was going to put an end to it.

“I know you’re awake,” he says, and Steve squeezes his eyes tighter like that’ll make it untrue, like he can just drift off in a second if he wills it hard enough. Eddie shifts on the mattress, and Steve curls tighter into himself. “Let’s just hash this out, huh? Get it over with.” Steve bites his tongue so hard he thinks he might taste blood. It’s that simple for Eddie - but it’s always simple, isn’t it? Cut and dry, plain as day, Steve is the only one who can never see it coming, it’s written on the goddamn walls for everyone else.

He risks peeking through his lashes but Eddie’s got his back to him so it doesn’t even matter, not really. Eddie isn’t looking at him and so Steve allows himself to look, takes in the hunch of Eddie’s shoulders, the curve of his spine beneath his thin pajama shirt - he’d changed, when he’d made his way through their creaky bedroom door, took off his clothes and put his pajamas on and kicked off those tennis shoes, they’re probably in a pile at the foot of the bed for Steve to trip over and he will miss tripping over them, he’ll miss it terribly.

He wonders if he’ll need to move. If he’ll have to find a new place and separate out all of their things into his things, if SteveAndEddie’sStuff will become Steve’s stuff and Eddie’s stuff. Or maybe he’ll just start staying in this guest room, maybe that’s why he furnished this room so completely, because somehow he knew he’d end up alone in it.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, and Steve inhales sharply.

“Don’t,” he says, and somehow he keeps his voice steady.

“So you are awake,” Eddie says, and he tries to sound teasing, sound playful, but it drops like a stone in this space between them. No room for levity in the dark cloud Steve’s filled this room with. He wishes he could be easygoing and let go gently, but it’s Eddie - in what world could he take losing him graciously?

“Yeah,” he says, and he stares at Eddie’s back as the other raises his head, but he still doesn’t turn to look at Steve, and he wishes he could at least look him in the face when he rips his heart out of his chest.

part 2

[k4vehrtz]

⸻ YOU'RE A CRISIS OF MY FAITH

. ✦ . starring — dom!top! t. fushiguro / m! reader

warnings — porn with some plot, sacrilege, a copious amount of religious themes, priest! reader, virgin reader ergo loss of virginity, allusion to homophobia / internalised homophobia, unprotected sex, blowjob (r receiving), deepthroating, fingering, riding, creampie, toji lowkey has a corruption kink, use of the nickname 'angel', toji refers to the reader as father once but that is entirely in a religious sense . ✦ . wc — 2.1k . ✦ . notes — we'll all pretend that didn't just happen!! anyway!! i'm so so normal about toji...and !! i don't know what exactly falls under dark content but seeing as this contains sacrilege you've been warned nevertheless. not proof read bc t**blr stressed me out

“what does —” he stops himself mid-sentence to motion upwards, “the big man upstairs think about homosexuality?”

you swallow hard, your adam’s apple bobbing. you hadn’t expected the question, naturally. especially from the likes of toji fushiguro of all people. but you answer anyway. “well,” you murmur, averting your gaze so that you’d stare out the window as the first signs of winter begin to settle in for its extended stay instead of being forced to meet toji’s pointed gaze. “we all are subject to desires that may or may not reflect god’s light, but these desires aren’t sinful unless you act or encourage others to act on them.”

he nods almost absentmindedly in response before following up with: “…even you, i imagine, as a man of god, could fall victim to such desires?”

and you pause for a beat, your jaw tightening as an image escapes the dark recesses of your mind; the neat box you’ve forced what you deemed unpleasant thoughts into.

the man in your mind didn’t look quite like anyone you knew at first. he was just a man without a name or a face — similarly to the world before god’s divine intervention, he too was without form. but then, by chance, you met toji fushiguro and his teenage son. then the man who’d haunt your thoughts began to change.

he was older, weathered by life experiences and parenting, and taller, maybe 6’2, with messy black hair that fell over his brows. his hair reminded you of the cloudless, starless night sky. then there was that scar on the corner of his right lip. you’d imagined yourself on more than one occasion leaning toward him, pressing your lips against it before he’d open his mouth and let you explore the wet cavern.

though you shake your head as if that would dismiss your thoughts, fingers curling defensively around the window’s ledge. “everyone encounters temptation in their day-to-day, but, like god’s son, we must resist.” you counter eventually. “you’re not one for idle chatter.”

“i’m not,” he agrees, his voice smooth, something akin to the feeling of silk against your skin. it gives you goosebumps and makes the hairs stand up. he puts his hands up in mock surrender, his gaze intent. you can feel him burning holes into the back of your head. “you know, i think i’m long overdue for a confession.”

“as you wish.”

“our heavenly father has declared the following in the book of james, chapter five, verse sixteen: ‘therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. the prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective’. now, in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit, amen.”

silence — and then toji sucks in a breath, his voice thick with an emotion you can’t quite grasp but has you shifting in your seat on the other side of the confessional booth anyway. you’re, on some level, disgusted by your behaviour. it’s unprofessional at best, or perhaps the beginning of your unravelling at worst. you fear it’s the latter.

“bless me, father, for i have sinned,” the words slide off his tongue with ease, “it has been two months since my last confession.” and your eyes flutter closed, or maybe you forced them closed because you feel no better than a pervert by the way you ache at every sound that comes out of his mouth.

either way, you don’t notice the way the door creaks as toji lets himself out of his side of the confessional booth and opens the door to yours until he’s kneeling in front of you, the pads of his fingers digging into your sides. the skin of his fingers is rough, worn out from the different tasks he takes on to keep himself and megumi afloat, you think. he’s become something of a handyman around town.

“to be honest, father,” he says, now directly addressing you. “i came here fer’ your guidance…you see, i’ve been havin’ thoughts lately that i don’t think align with what god wants.” and you find yourself at a loss, your eyes still closed, though your adam’s apple bobs again as you swallow your suppressed thoughts. “my guidance?” you repeat quietly, “confess your…thoughts…then, and seek forgiveness. it’s not a sin unless you act on those thoughts.”

he lets out a pleased hum at that, leaning forward so that his face is practically buried in your clothed crotch. “so,” he counters, “if my understanding is correct, would it be a sin if i told you to spread your legs f’me?”

you don’t trust yourself to speak right now — not when your thoughts are all muddled. so, you simply nod and toji clicks his tongue. “but sin or not, you’re going to anyway because you and i both know how we feel about each other, right? c’mon, use your big boy words and tell me.”

the smart thing—no, the right thing to do here would be to say no. adamantly deny the lingering touches and glances that the two of you had come to share. affection between two men could only go so far. but then again, you’ve gone so much farther in the safety of your bedroom long after the sun has set. how much longer could you shamelessly show your face to the other members of the church and listen to them confess their deepest secrets to you? you’re parading as a righteous man when you’re anything but.

if it turns out to be as bad of a sin as they say, god will strike you down.

turns out it’s not as bad of a sin as they say — or maybe it is and you’ve yet to receive divine punishment.

“god works in mysterious ways,” you say under your breath but toji hears it anyway. how could he not when you’re in such proximity to each other? you hadn’t meant to say it out loud but it doesn’t matter. and toji (ever the charmer) takes it upon himself to respond, “maybe he brought us together for a reason…or maybe i’m one of lucifer’s lackeys sent to seduce you.”

you make the conscious decision to ignore that which seems to entertain toji even more. he’s ridiculous in ways you can’t fathom. like…the way he’s got your legs spread, back pressed firmly against the wood of the confessional, your thighs trembling as he clicks his tongue, “spread yer’ legs a little wider f’me angel, s’not enough f’me to suck that pretty cock.”

he… he knows what he’s doing. whereas you were clumsy and inexperienced. but, to be fair, you had taken a vow of celibacy when you were twelve.

now, though, you’re experiencing true pleasure for the first time — and with a man, no less. you tilt your head back in what little space the confessional affords you as toji gives your balls tentative touches, maybe light squeezes, as he aligns the head of your leaking cock with his mouth. you’re embarrassed, warmth flooding your cheeks, but you can’t look away. not when this is all you’ve ever wanted.

there’s pre-cum on his lips; your pre-cum. it’s there, as clear as day, and he’s entirely unbothered. all of his attention is on your cock. your cock that’s throbbing as he sucks on it. pre-cum and saliva mixing. it’s all so new to you.

as for him…well isn’t this cute? you’re trying your hardest to stifle those needy moans of yours, he can tell. but no matter how much you bite down on your lower lip or how you press your hands against your mouth those pretty sounds you make always find a way of escaping. part of him, somewhere deep down, feels guilty for corrupting you like this. but perhaps he doesn’t feel guilty enough.

he continues to work on your cock, sucking on it whilst simultaneously fondling with your balls. you’re quivering, rutting your hips forward now and then. occasionally you go too far and it scares you at first — you didn’t mean to push your cock all the way to the back of his throat! ever the unbothered, though, he welcomes it until you’re spurting your load down his throat. and he swallows, utterly content.

then he coos at you, bringing a thumb up to your face, and tracing the outline of your jaw. “don’t worry about me, angel, you’re not going to hurt me. what you’re going to do f’me is let me reposition us so i can see your pretty boy hole, m’kay? my boy can do that f’me, right?”

my boy. the idea of being his. after so long…it only feels right. so, you allow him to readjust your position so that you’re straddling his lap and somewhere in the process you both disregard your clothes.

“you’ve been thinking about my cock? that’s why yer’ hole is winking f’me? all ready to take my cock like a big boy?” he asks and you nod your head eagerly. every word that comes out of his mouth is dirty but your reactions are the icing on the cake. you’re not the quiet, unassuming priest he met by chance all those months back. and to think that he’s the reason why.

well, he doesn’t linger on the thought. you’re impatient, squirming on his thighs in search of friction. but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t get him going and he may be many things but he would not force himself into you without properly preparing you to take him.

so as much as you whine about it, he ultimately takes his time with you. the nearest lubricant happened to be some sort of oil, but he made sure that it was safe to use before coating his fingers in a generous amount. then he oh so carefully drags his finger across your hole. it makes you shudder, but after a few minutes of this, you find yourself unprepared for the stretch of fitting a singular digit in. it hurts and the moment you so much as whimper toji’s pressing his lips against yours. the same lips that were around your cock only moments ago. his lips are gentle, soothing, even.

and he keeps it like that — his lips against yours as he slowly introduces more fingers into your ass. it takes a while but your pained whimpers soon morph into more desperate, filthy little noises as he drags his fingers in and out of your hole before curling them, tips grazing your prostate.

you want it, you decide. his cock, that is. you want his cock in your ass beyond a reasonable doubt. it’s all you need. bouncing on his fingers feels good but you just know that his cock would feel so much better.

“this is a sin, we’re both sinning,” you announce, your words strong but your delivery coming in between laboured gasps as his fingers continue to graze your prostate. “so i expect you to fuck me like you mean it.”

and he doesn’t need to be told twice. with a scoff — one that sounds more amused than annoyed — he pulls his fingers out of you. shaking his head as you whimper at the loss. but it’s soon replaced by something bigger and much thicker. it’s his cock, covered in the same oil, and you almost can’t believe it when he’s aligning it with your entrance, pushing past the tight ring of muscle.

you have to take a few breaks before you fully sink on him with a low groan. he makes you feel so full and he hasn’t even moved yet. and when you take it upon yourself to ride him you revert to the softheaded boy he makes you out to be.

your movements are clumsy — mediocre, you’re sure of it. but toji doesn’t intervene. he simply leans back, big, warm hands on your hips, while you figure out your rhythm. and after a few failed attempts you find one that works for both of you. it feels good, it feels great even. his hard cock filling you to the brim while you all but mindlessly bounce on his cock, your walls clenching around his throbbing length.

you’re going to cum soon, you’re sure of it. and when you do eventually watch through teary eyes as your cock spurts ropes of cum onto his stomach you’re not surprised whatsoever. toji, however, takes a lot longer to cum. you’ve probably cum at least two more times by the time toji takes control, his grip on your hips tightening as he angles you just the right way to hit your prostate with each thrust of his hips upwards. your toes curl, eyes half-lidded, and you just barely acknowledge the warmth of his semen in your ass.

all you can think of, and just barely manage to stutter out is: “you’ve fucked me,” and he stares up at you with a smug smile, chest heaving as he copes with his orgasm that has been a long time coming, “yeah, i’ve fucked yer’ pretty boy hole.”

[ethereal-blossom]

Giving BSD boys a blowjob for the first time

ft. dazai, kunikida

warnings: blowjobs (surprise!) MDNI

a/n: kinda wrote these in mind thinking it was also giving them a handjob for the first time so I guess that's double the fun!

Dazai Osamu ♡

Your eyes looked up to find Dazai's face, searching for a sign of approval. In response, Dazai let out a validating, soft moan and closed his eyes as he nodded. "You're doing excellent, belladonna."

It wasn't unexpected. Dazai, sharp and observant as a hawk, had seen the way your eyes lingered over every small change in his facial expressions. While you were dating, both of you had agreed to take things slow. Even small milestones like holding hands was a huge thing for the man that was wrapped in bandages. The slow burn of deepening your relationship into each other's hearts until it left a permanent mark that even time couldn't erase, was wonderful.

But with time grows desire. Dazai teased you to the point of dilated pupils, hitching breaths, and a blush that cups your cheeks. Exactly like planned, the detective thought, smirking behind the mask of crafted innocence. Except, the plan had been for you to beg him to touch you; not that you would beg to make him feel good as your fingers pushed his hips onto the couch. Dazai is highly aware of his intelligence that makes him read people as if they are a children's book, but sometimes, he thinks he doesn't always grab your nature. The type of nature that has you on your knees in front of him, getting high off of his pleasure.

When you wanted to focus your attention back on the twitching cock in your hand, the sight of Dazai's fingers grabbed your attention. You knew Dazai better than any living soul. Although still a mystery novel that hides behind words of deceive and avoidance to keep parts of itself hidden until the time of reveal is there, this mystery novel was slowly showing you its pages that brought you closer to the truth.

One of the mysteries revealed was Dazai's massive self-control over his external reactions. Emotions were another vulnerable aspect of what it meant to be human, and Dazai hid them masterfully. A part of that was because it functioned as a tactic to reach his goals and stay in control, but a part of you wondered if it was because Dazai feared vulnerability more than a bullet. Emotional suffering is torture for the ones with a sensitive heart.

While Dazai's face was decorated in controlled bliss and his moans playing like a soft lullaby, the slender fingers around the sheets were clinging for dear life. You see... could you make another crack in that composed facade?

Your thumb starts drawing circles over Dazai's tip and with that, you witnessed the twitching of both his cock and fingers. A soft groan escaped Dazai's clenched jaw. "Ah, that's my belladonna. You're soo good to me, hm? Working hard for that reward." That controlled tone...

... It wasn't enough.

Dazai could tell something changed. Even though he had his eyes closed in concentration, clinging to the tiny bit of control he had, he noticed how your stroking became irregular. "What's filling your mind that isn't my- argh, shit." Dazai's eyes shot open as he bolted his hips deeper into your mouth, leaving you gagged for a good second.

That face of pure shock and arousal, the one you rarely got to see on your lover, revealed itself to you as you had taken Dazai's tip into your mouth. "Y/N, that's-"

Another lick and Dazai's original sentence was replaced by a moan, and the detective felt like all control slipped between his fingers when you placed your hands around the rest of his cock.

Dazai grabbed your hair, hissing you to go slower because oh God, he was about to cum faster than he ever did in his twenty-two years of living, and God knows he did not want this euphoria to end this soon. Oh, he really wasn't used to feeling this good-

"Belladonna, y/n, please-" Dazai didn't know what he was begging you for. For you to go slower? Faster? What it was, you hummed in approval. That little vibration was all it needed for Dazai to throw his head in his neck. His toes curled as high-pitched whines fell over lips that had become swollen in a miserable attempt to hide his moans.

When you looked up after swallowing, you were met with Dazai's bangs hanging over his eyes. "Osamu, are you okay?" Worried, you push the chocolate colored bangs aside and... oh.

He was so pretty with scarlet painted cheeks. Dazai couldn't even look you in the eyes, giving up after one second of eye-contact before shyly facing another side with his head. "That was... good. For a first attempt."

You chuckled as your hand caresses the cheek that faced your way and with a slightly hoarse voice you respond: "Good. I'll make you even feel better next time."

Dazai's hands twitch one last time before he closes his eyes and mentally picks up every string that he lost along the way. As the detective opens his eyes, you can see the control and seduction in those dark eyes that you love so much.

Dazai leans closer until you feel his breath on your ear. His lips tickle and a shiver runs down your spine as he whispers: "Someone has earned that reward, hasn't she? Let's see how long I can make you last."

Kunikida Doppo ♡

Rubies could not compete with the radiant red glow of Kunikida's face as he realized what you were about to do. The detective should have known you were up to something when he was preparing today's schedule and you had popped up behind him, placing your arms around his waist as you kissed his neck and whispered: "Keep a spot open at 8 PM, love."

Even when the blond had asked for details, your lips stayed sealed. The only hint Kunikida got out of you was "Dazai has made you work over-hours; I want to treat you."

Naively, innocently, Kunikida thought you might have a dinner or massage in mind. Not that he was wrong! It was just a... different type of massage. With your tender fingers wrapped around his cock, Kunikida clenched his jaw to not make a sound, but the moan slipped away as he sighed your name: "Y/n... I, we-"

"Does it feel good, Doppo?" You made sure to rub his tip with your thumb right then, making the detective's cock drop with pre-cum.

"It- yes... yes, it feels good."

Looking up blessed you with the sight of an orderly man turned into a mess under the tip of your fingers. A wave of arousal rushed through your body, seeing the man unravel in front of you. You figured he would be vocal, but oh-

Kunikida was sensitive. The smallest movement had him throwing his head back and trusting his hip as tiny moans calling your name filled the room. Not only were his cheeks the color of fire due to the heat of your touch, but the intimacy of it all left him flustered as well.

You felt a hand rest on your head, lightly gripping a bit of hair. "Y/n... we, you- I have to make you feel good, too."

Oh. "That has to wait."

"But- ah!" The hand around your hair tightened in response to your mouth taking his cock.

Kunikida's thoughts were twirled up in the storm that was you. Your name rolled off his tongue like worshipping prayers as you brought Heaven to earth for him.

The bliss of touching Heaven became too much, and with one closing word, Kunikida fell apart. He arched his back, forgetting to bite his lip to soften the groans that might slip through the walls where his colleagues live. His grip around you tightens, never wanting to let you go, never wanting to let this feeling go. But then Kunikida realizes he's still on earth and lessens his grip on the fear he's hurting you.

The detective looked into your eyes, but they were filled with lust directed at him and God, it felt so sinful that he had to deflect his gaze. Yet, you grabbed his chin and made your boyfriend face you.

"Do you feel better?"

Kunikida stammered, trying to get out a word. "Yes, that was," an embarrassed cough, "excellent." 

Your thumb caressed his lip. "Good."

And then, the world flipped around as Kunikida lay your back on the bed. "I have done a deep-dive research on how to please you when the time was there. Now, let me return the favor." 

[aluciahaz]

may i just say that your character writing is AMAZING! i honestly don’t check up on your blog a lot but when i do i’m left SHAKING because your shit is soooo hot.

Anyways i humbly come requesting mommy kink with vox because you know i’m all about that. he’s so desperate for validation and scared of rejection i feel like he’d be weeping at a domme mommy type reader. Anyways, do what you want with this!

once again i love your work! sincerely, bimbo <3

oh my god it's one of my favorite writers on tumblr🦅 thank you so much for the compliment it means a lot 😭 also i loved writing this ive desperately needed more vox asks! hope you enjoy! (kinda went ham on metaphors 💀 mb)

greed never stops

—vox x f!reader

—includes: overstim, tons of crying, begging, light bondage

vox was a walking, living(?) juxtaposition.

he’ll go barking orders to his subordinates, control most situations with smooth, quick thinking, and command his business with an iron fist.

but with you, the other side of his screen is on full display. his vulnerable, attention-desperate, failure-fearful self. you’ve seen it enough times to notice how it seeps into his daily life. how his control is really just a mechanism to take hold of his vulnerability, hiding it behind a mess of steel wires to make anyone who would try and reach it get tangled in its grasp.

but the moments he lets you untangle his facade, allowing you to see his true self, he feels free. even if most of the time it was during more intimate moments in the night. it was where he could truly indulge in his unfamiliar desires, crying and begging for the validation he was always seeking.

and you were the one he needed it from.

your praise was one of the highest in the hierarchy of compliments, making him feel like he was burning up, frying his brain in a way that made him feel like he’s short-circuited, but the feeling of fuzziness was intoxicating. he could never give up the taste of your compliments.

“come on, aren’t you a good boy? you can hold out for a little longer.”

those words were like rich liquor, and vox was an eager drinker. it swirled his thoughts into a never-ending spiral, and he could only cry in response as you touched his face with a gentleness that rivals an angel’s.

“b-but, mommy—!” he sobs as your fingers drive into him for what seems the thousandth time, his voice module starting to struggle as he tries to speak.

“oh?” you raise your eyebrow, feigning shock before narrowing your eyes, pressing him further down the sheets in disdain. is he still being ungrateful?

“but what, huh? don’t tell me you need more already! you’re such a greedy fucking slut,” you spit out, watching his eyes shoot open from the whiplash of your cruel words. “maybe i should stop—,”

“NO! nono, please! no! i’m sorry—!” he keens as your fingers slowly start to slip out of him, the sound so indecent it makes him shiver.

he pushes his hips up into your hand, trying to follow them only for your other hand to shove his hips back down on the sheets, your fingers twisting nearly all the way out before ramming back in, curling in wickedly that seems to shut him up briefly as he catches a breath that ran away.

vox weeps, unable to do anything else as his claws rip into the mattress, his legs shake and tremble as though they weren’t practically crushing you before. he seems so fragile at this moment, yet you knew he could take much more.

he just didn’t deserve it.

he whines and screams at your touch, tears starting to fall down his pretty little face as the small amount of dignity he had seems to get lost, overrun by your torturous fingers and unyielding pleasure that shoots through his body like a current.

“mommy—ha—please jus—zz—t fuck me, oh, god!” his head drops back down onto the pillows as your fingers wrap around his weeping cock, making his back arch as he sobs out noncoherent pleads. it’s beautifully pathetic.

his legs, weak and feeble, were strewn across the bed with previous markings trailing up his inner thigh, his neck even more decorated with a necklace of red, the glimmer of sweat that covers his whole body making those bites shine similar to crude rubies.

his hands, now tied with his own wires behind the bed (he charges there before he goes to sleep) were sullied with crimson from the tightness of the metal around his wrist, but not as bright crimson as his eyes, which flashed with bright red hearts intermittently. it was always a pleasant surprise, and a sign that he fucking loved this. no matter how much he complained at the start, his eyes spoke the truth.

which is why now, as you replace your fingers with his favorite strap, you know he’s absolutely overjoyed as those beating hearts seem to overtake his pupils once more, pulsating with a hypnotizing spiral.

“finally—! oh—zzz—FUCK!” his last word is practically inaudible with the airiness in his voice, his tone starting to distort, yet, your pace was slow. shallow, even. tears of frustration started to form at the ends of his eyes, his whines more pitiful as he tries to fuck himself back on your strap, only to be stopped by your sturdy grip on his hips.

“what do you say, vox?“ you asked, irritation slipping into your voice. how could he still be so ungrateful? but, he catches on fast, looking up at you with round, glossy eyes.

“thank you! thank—thank you, mommy!” he stumbles out before you switch up your pace instantly, brutally ramming into him just how he likes it. it makes him unable to fathom he could have been known to be anything but yours, surrendering his well-built persona to you. all of it, for your praise.

“such a good boy.”

those words were priceless, but he always ends up trying to buy them with obedience. and even though he’s successfully checked out with such praise, they still have the same effect on him every time.

he shudders and wails with ruined pitch, his screen flickering in and out of error messages and his lovely expression as he gets his reward. there was just something so satisfying about earning your praise.

sure, he can buy pretty much anything, and yes, he can get people to kneel at his feet, but he can’t cry without shame, or indulge in his true desires of being completely wrecked with soft words and fast hips with anyone. no, it could only be you. and even if he practically has everything under his hands, he will always be greedy for your affection, begging, screaming for a chance to have it set his whole body ablaze with its foreign warm feeling.

it makes him lost. no matter how much intelligence vox has, he always finds himself unable to search his way out of the feeling of pure lust overtaking his senses when you fuck him with abandon, his need to keep face seemingly never being there in the first place as tears make him short-circuit, and pleads for you to never stop. he doesn’t want to leave this labyrinth of carnality. he wants to stay lost in it forever.

it’s why even after he cums with a high-pitch sob so loud you thought his volume module broke, he kept weeping incoherently as the lights flicker in the room, his legs practically numb. and finally, he looks up at you, sniffling and choking on his words he’ll pretend to regret the next morning.

“m-more. please, mommy—! AH!” his whole body jolts as you heed his wishes, leaving him to fall back into the pleasure that he craves. he babbles on and on with thank yous and nonsensical sentences, the night seeming to become never-ending even with daybreak inching closer and closer.

vox is unable to speak at the end, and god does everything fucking hurt. his arms ache and his legs are definitely going to be an issue when he has to walk. there are marks all over his skin that will never see the light of day, yet be around for plenty of nights.

but you both know he’ll come back for more. his greed is an unquenchable thirst, and your praise is the only fountain that seems to satiate it, even if only for a little while.

(i totally didnt forget to tag)

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @drlucichen @luciferspetduck

[realisticjupiter]

haihaii!! your profile has been like.... THERAPY to me bc the aib fixation is back AND ITS STRONG ESPECIALLY TOWARDS CHISHIYA 💔💔💔 i love the way u write as well !!

so with this could i request a touch starved chishiya... like a chishiya that needs readers attention so bad but is too embarrassed to downright tell them "I WANT CUDDLES" or smth... still he does everything in his power to get readers attention atp the only thing left is to just BEG

also could i be 🎶 anon ? i picture myself being very active here from now on... have a nice day!!

Summary: Chishiya can't sleep without you.

Genre: Fluffy

Pairing: Chishiya x gn!reader

Warnings: None! :)

Word count: 784

a/n: Aghhhh i hope this is okay!!!!! That is actually so sweet of you, I'm so glad you've liked my account!!!<3 And ofc you can claim an emoji, hello 🎶!!

Chishiya tried everything to get you into bed with him. He tried seducing you, gaslighting you, and of course his manipulation tactics didn't work either.

All you were focused on was trying to fix the phone from last night's game. It was still on, so you thought it would be easier to get into before it powered off.

Every time he'd call your name, you'd brush him off. Mostly because he always used a certain tone of voice you've become far too familiar with when he tries to get what he wants.

All he wanted to do was kneel at your feet to tell you exactly what he wanted. To tell you he just wanted you to hold him, to tell you all he needed was your attention.

But he couldn't. He never has been able to ask for help, or ask for anything without feeling vulnerable for that matter. He was closed off, that's what people knew about him; that he didn't show those types of emotions in fear of being belittled.

Chishiya could feel his eyelids getting heavy and his eyes burning from keeping them open, but he knew no matter how hard he would toss and turn; he wouldn't be able to sleep without you.

It was pathetic, he'd admit that. It was a loop he found himself getting stuck into, and found there was no way out of it. He hid it pretty well, though. Through late nights where you'd fall asleep alone and wake up to him beside you. You truly had no idea he struggled so much.

He was so tired. He'd do anything if you'd just stop and sleep already.

And he found his last option, the one thing he dreaded the most.

"Y/n?" Chishiya whispered, his voice husky as he climbed out of bed and walked towards you with slow steps.

"What?" You hummed in response, never peeling your eyes away from the task at hand.

"Please," He spoke underneath his breath in an almost incoherent whisper as he stopped to stand beside the chair you sat in.

"I don't know what you want, Chishiya. No one is keeping you awake." You sighed, watching from the corner of your eye as he stood by your side, rubbing his eyes with his palms.

"You're keeping me awake." He murmured, watching your hands as they played around with the device's motherboard.

"How?" You said in defeat, finally turning your attention to him. You looked up at him with your hands thrown in your lap, clearly waiting for his response.

He let out a huff as he looked around the room; avoiding eye contact. When he finally looked at you, his eyes were soft and glassed over.

His next sentence was incoherent.

"What?"

[inaudible]

"Chishiya. Speak up, please." Your words were soft as you stood up from your seat, placing your hands on his upper arms.

"I can't sleep without you." He finally spoke, his words finally registering in your mind.

When he realized you had finally heard him, he felt like he could say anything. And with his new found confidence he continued to speak.

"Why is it so hard to ask you to touch me?" He breathed, letting his head fall onto your shoulder.

You smiled at his soft demeanour. You knew how hard it must've been for him to admit something so close to himself, especially since it was about you. You've found a new side of Chishiya you haven't seen before.

You brought a hand to comb through his hair as the other scratched up and down his bare back, "I'm sorry, Chishiya. I should've just read your mind." You whispered against his shoulder as you held him close to your body.

Your words were an obvious tease, trying to humor the situation at hand. Which did make Chishiya snicker.

"You should have. You've always been able to." He muttered, wrapping his arms lazily around you.

You smiled warmly as he spoke, pulling away to drag his hand towards the bed. You climbed in with him closely behind you. He waited for you to get comfortable, before he joined you under the covers to tangle his limbs with yours.

"I'm proud of you, Chishiya." Your sultry breath hit his forehead as you mumbled against his skin.

He stared down at the way your bodies fit together, processing your words with a smile he knew you couldn't see.

"Now go to sleep, 'm here." You spoke once more into his skin, kissing his forehead and massaging your fingers into his scalp.

His cold fingers danced around your bare skin, trying to bring himself impossibly closer to you before his body fell limp into a night's sleep.

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

[pistatsia]

Shidou Ryusei: as free as a bird

Shidou is uncomfortable, imperfect. He's vulgar, he's gross, he's blatantly cruel, and he's incapable of compromise. He's hyper-excitable, constantly ready to fight and even looking forward to that brawl. He switches between moods like a kaleidoscope, and what falls out in that kaleidoscope is unpredictable.

Shidou has absolutely no understanding of morality.

This is especially evident in his encounter with Kunigami.

He has absolutely no understanding of the concept of protecting someone simply for no gain. Trying to protect someone heroically, purely because of an understanding that it's wrong, is ridiculous to Shidou. Shidou has only "his" and "others", and that "his" so far includes only Sae, as shown in the episode where he tries to turn Sendou's face into mush.

Nor does he understand the moralization that it is wrong to hit people. He just doesn't get it, and it's probably ridiculous for him to even think about it, because at the deepest level he has an attitude to respond to any hint of a threat with a fight.

Most likely Shidou grew up in an environment where brute force decided everything. That's why he's so hyperexcitable.

Shidou is in a constant state of tension, waiting for even the slightest hint of a threat, which he is happy to crush immediately. He's constantly ready to strike because he's used to constantly feeling a threat - one that he had to respond to with violence because he wouldn't have survived otherwise. His "fight" response, out of a combination of ancient instincts called "fight-flight-freeze," is always switched to the max.

We all know that the attack is the best form of defense, and Shidou follows this motto with his entire being. "Beat your own so that others will fear you" is about him.

Shidou doesn't mention his family at all in his Blue Lock profile like other players do. Remember how he talks about Santa in the same form - "I can buy something on my own" sounds very childish and unhappy. When you're trying to prove to yourself that you don't need it at all - because if you need it, you won't get it anyway.

Beyond that, even leaving aside his family and theoretical home environment, we know for a fact that Shidou didn't play for any football team before Blue Lock.

He was a loner, and therefore the only space where he could practice was the street.

And street football is insanely, inhumanly violent.

And it makes sense that this similar environment, both at home and in the game, formed the core of Shidou's personality that we see in the manga. The core of personality, which is based on the desire to survive, and not just survive, but to show everyone around him that despite everything he has gnawed out a life for himself with his teeth. A life in which cruelty is the law.

A life where he exists.

Shidou is probably one of the most evident Blue Lock players, for whom football is not only inextricably linked to life - it is life. And Shidou is absolutely explicit about this both in the interview and in the manga.

For Shidou, football and life are one and the same.

The same thing that Aiku says: Shidou is incapable of separating the field and life. They're inseparable in his world in general; they're one and the same.

It is only logical that Shidou transfers the laws of his life to football as well; and ends up playing football the same way he plays life - a football of the "survival" kind. Where it is his biological need (I'm sorry), his only aspiration, the violence that breaks everything in its path. Where the way to "survive the game", just as in life, is to leave your mark, to somehow prove your existence in people's lives, to be remembered by them and imprinted in their memories.

And pay attention to the way Shidou lives: not according to the rules, uncomfortable and bright, believing that it is better to burn to the death than to lie in a corner as a gray shadow, but alive.

There are no rules in Shidou's football; therefore, there are no rules in Shidou's life.

And that's why Shidou despises heroes and "good guys"; because only naive idiots who don't understand real life, the one where your survival is all that matters. That's why he mocks Kunigami's principles so much: because to him, a child for whom his whole life has been one big attempt to gnaw his teeth out to survive, such principles are irrelevant.

Because there are no heroes in Shidou's world, and even if there were, they've long since broken.

And there are no restrictions in Shidou's life either. He lives a violent life, and it makes sense that he lives by the same principles in Blue Lock, not hesitating to threaten Rin with the end of his career or Igaguri with murder.

He's not violent because he takes some special pleasure in bullying Igaguri: he's violent because that's just who he is. He doesn't have a "harming others is not okay" attitude. It's instinct - as seen especially in his episodes of fighting with Rin. He doesn't care at all about causing him long-term harm or ruining his career - on the contrary, he enjoys it in the moment.

And this is especially evident in his relationship with Isagi; while Shidou had nearly smashed his head in the day before, on the field he already openly admires him and is quite friendly. Shidou doesn't give violence any particular importance - you don't give any importance to brushing your teeth or throwing out the rubbish in the morning, do you?

For Shidou, it's just insignificant, because violence is the organic basis of his life, its law and right.

Today he's trying to kill Isagi, and tomorrow it's Isagi-chan.

Because Shidou has no social competence - he had no parents to bring him into society and set some morals.

And his desires are pretty simple and even primitive. When he learns of his potential salary, his first thought is how much he can eat on it. All he basically wants, almost to the point of obsession, is to induce vivid emotions, explosion, adrenaline - something Shidou is addicted to, living in constant danger and something that allows him to feel alive and existent.

You know who that sounds like? Denji. A main character from Shidou's most favourite manga.

They both had no guides to society. They're both unfortunate kids who were deprived of absolutely everything when they were young. Who are so vulgar and repulsive not because there's anything wrong with them and they act so deliberately and meanly - but because they just don't know any other life. They just don't understand what it's like to live differently. They both live on base instincts.

And they both try to greedily claim as much as they can from the life around them - the food, the people, the sensations.

Because they had nothing before.

Back to Shidou and his football.

The most amazing thing about Shidou is the way he treats his opponents (omitting attempts to injure them). Shidou, even when losing, finds time to admire them - to admire those who took the ball away from him or stole a goal. He's really just having a good time - while for Rin, football is something to be taken completely seriously, for Karasu it's a need to pre-analyse opponents, and for Snuffy it's work, Shidou is just having fun.

And at the same time, what, along with "watch as world reaches its end" and "at the end of the day, when I became nothing, tears came out" demonstrates the duality of his nature is his attitude to losing.

He and Kaiser actually have too many parallels, but this is one of the most obvious - even though they treat the issue differently, they act in the same way.

They're both prepared to admit when they're losing - and they're both willing to break themselves for the sake of the goal. They both know how and when to tame jealousy and the losing parts of their being.

Because they don't believe in winning (explosion) any other way.

Shidou knows when to back down. Because he learnt this too from his childhood - that if the opponent is stronger than you and you keep carelessly breaking forward, sooner or later it will destroy you. The only way to win is to recognise his superiority and fracture yourself, forming a new self - one that can defeat him (as seen in Shidou's willingness to stop fighting so that Ego would let him out, and Kaiser's with his story with Noa).

The ability to appreciate and recognise the strength of your opponent is a basic principle of survival.

But at the same time (just like Kaiser), Shidou doesn't believe that there are invincible opponents. You just have to know the way to break them.

Or rather, not know: feel. Which is what happens at the U-20 game when Shidou enters the flow.

Logically, with all of the above, Shidou is a complete individualist, and is unable to comply with Rin even for the sake of a goal - because Shidou knows he can beat him. The point at which his PXG game has evolved - with two formations, one centered on Shidou and the other on Rin - is the clearest evidence of this.

Shidou knows when to back off - but Shidou isn't going to back off until circumstances force him to.

And in the end, this approach of Shidou ended up being too egoistic for Blue Lock, which is insanely ironic. What's also funny is that along with it, it's his attitude towards football that epitomises Ego's ideal - a player who puts everything he has into it because it's his way of surviving.

And so we come to that one scene of punishment. And it's this, along with Shidou's monologue from the U-20 game, that reveals him the most.

Because in the first few frames Shidou looks frankly miserable. Of course, anyone would look that way in his position. But suddenly Shidou starts talking calmly, offering a compromise - and then in the same second he snaps.

He explodes, cursing Ego - though as his words show he understands the reason for the punishment - he's even willing to compromise. It's illogical to curse the one on whom his salvation depends, isn't it?

Shidou acts this way because he's afraid.

Because in this moment - bound, locked up, and alone - he is defenseless.

He's like a caged animal that can't think logically - he's terrified, he's scared, he can only throw himself helplessly around the cage, grinning his teeth wantonly. This is the first time we see him so seriously angry (he still did get some fun, adrenaline rush during the fight with Rin).

The worst thing for Shidou, free as a bird or a tiger and most of all wanting that very freedom (more about that later) is vulnerability and limitation. Powerlessness. For the sake of overcoming this, he is ready to give up violence and his principles of life, as long as he is released and pulled out of this hell of helplessness.

And this fear is actually incredibly characteristic of his personality too.

But in order to understand why, of all the possible punishments of the world, it is the restriction that drives him to panic, let's remember what football means to him and his style of play in it.

Shidou has sharp and monstrous, even beastly reflexes and instincts. They are honed to the max. He is very strong physically, fast, agile, flexible, perfectly sensing the space around him. Optimal in his movements. Unpredictable. His illogical patterns are impossible to read.

Shidou is all of one naked reflex and instinct, free in his absolute savagery. He is a completely separate character outside of the Ego's system. He literally speaks a different language.

And Sae happens to be the only one who understands that language.

And up until their moments together, this is most vividly shown when Sae stops Shidou from beating up another player - and not just stops him, but understands what needs to be said.

Which again proves that in the violent chaos of Shidou's life he does have a certain logic. A constantly shifting, flexible one, but one...

Which, again, Sae alone understands.

And it is through playing with Sae that the whole point of why football is so important to Shidou is revealed. Why he plays it so instinctively, despising the rule, the tactics, and his teammates. Why is he suddenly willing to "break himself" for Sae, adjusting his rules of life to fit him, yesterday's stranger - because Sae accepts both him and his football, and doesn't try to limit or remake him. And that's exactly why Shidou is willing to be changed to match him.

Because Shidou's football, the life he wants to achieve, is all about freedom.

And that's not enough for him. It's not enough for Shidou just to play, just to live. It can't be enough for a man who is used to living on adrenaline and fighting for his existence every day.

Life for Shidou is about freedom, just as football is his escape and a place where he can exist.

Shidou stands out, doesn't follow the rules, exists so vividly and with every action clearly and distinctly proving his presence...

To live.

Both football and Shidou's life are about escaping, about breaking out of his limits. To see the world as himself - free and alive.

Football makes Shidou feel whole, feel alive. Football is what glues him together. It's the only way he can prove what he is - by achieving something. By making himself colorful, visible, uncomfortable - in a way that he can't be turned away from.

One that will allow him to leave a trace of his existence in the world. One that will prove to him that he is.

For Shidou, all these metaphorical (or not) explosions are actually a way of proving that he exists.

Even his fights and quarrels actually serve his purpose - and Shidou himself confirms this in his monologue. All of this is to be vivid, to imprint, to exist.

To be someone who cannot be forgotten or turned away from.

Who cannot be overlooked.

Who exists as obviously as he can.

Even his favorite subjects at school - Art and Physical Education (the latter obviously about football) - are related. Because it's possible to leave your mark on the world with art, too - and it makes sense that Shidou admires it so much. Because art is, after all, the most colorful thing a living person can leave behind.

And for Shidou, art is football.

For him, to exist is to be free. And to burn so brightly that it blinds his own eyes - otherwise both life and football become bland, boring and insignificant to him. Just like his evenings - remember "When is the last time you cried?" from The Egoist Bible? And remember Shidou's response?

"At the end of the day, when I became nothing, tears came out."

Because in the evening, emotions and people disappear and you're left to yourself. Empty, aimless and in a way pathetic - because you're no longer on fire. Because you lose all the things that made you feel during the day.

Shidou depends on vivid emotions - because, due to his difficult youth, they are the only things that allow him to feel that he is alive.

That he's free.

Shidou's favorite song is also about freedom and trying to break free from the constraints of his life.

There is nothing in the world Shidou longs for more than freedom.

And the spider in Shidou's favorite song is limited and weak.

A spider without wings is incapable of flying. The spider without wings is trapped in unfreedom, looking at the blue and vast sky above his head every day - one that he cannot reach.

A spider without wings is incapable of flying - and those wings Shidou himself, like the spider in the song, could not get, no matter how hard he tried.

But Sae gave Shidou those wings. Sae gave Shidou the ability to play to his full potential, the way he craved with his entire being. Sae took him out from Blue Lock. Sae acknowledged him. Sae gave him a chance to make his mark on the world and gave him purpose, he showed him that there was someone who understood him and his aspirations on this base, animal level.

Sae gave Shidou freedom.

And Shidou learnt to fly.

[0asisbliss]

Taking care of the HXH men

Characters included: Chrollo, Shalnark, and Kurapika.

A/N: Since the JJK one did well, and I thought it was fun I decided to do a HXH one as well.

Chrollo:

Chrollo has always been the type of person to take care of someone so when you offer to take care of his many wounds it certainly takes him by surprise. You started by cleaning them throughly, and applying pressure. He had a couple of large open wounds so decided to just cover those up for the time being. You took the antibiotic cream and put a little on the first wound you came across.

“This might burn a bit yeah?”

He simply nodded at your statement. You put the cream on, and he didn’t even flinch. You weren’t surprised by this however. Chrollo studied your movements your hands weren’t shaky, and you didn’t show a glint of fear in your face. Although you were calm, and there was even a slightly peaceful smile on your face.

You took a look another look at him and covered his wound with a (f/c) patch. You always had little bandaids, and cotton patches prepared for moments when he came home from “work” like this. He thought it was cute however. The thought of you jumping to him when he’s clearly injured brought the slightest smile to his face. You repeat the process of treating his wound over and over till you reach the final one.

You seal the final on off with a tiny kiss. You look up at Chrollo, and give him a small peck on his forehead.

“Thank you my love. Although I feel quite guilty because you have done all of this.”

You smiled at his response. “Well I give you my thank darling.” Chrollo leaned over to give you a little kiss on the forehead.

“Are you hungry? Let’s go to a nice restaurant yeah?”

Shalnark:

Shalnark caught a small cold. You would think his immune system was as strong as metal it’s is, but that doesn’t make him indestructible.He would sneeze here and there, and his coughs were strong and sounded almost like they hurt. It was almost painful to watch, but in some way you found it cute that he depended on you in almost every way and form. It was simple things like you making homemade soup for his throat, or his medicine that he’s not that fond of because of its taste.

You make sure to watch him take his pills because he’ll spit them out if you’re not looking.

You make sure to keep him warm with blankets and other things to make him comfortable as possible. When he gets out of bed for something you make sure to scold him. Stating that he could have simply just asked you, and you would’ve gotten it for him.

Shalnark likes it when your like this. It makes him feel better about himself. He steals and kills people, but here you are. Wanting to do your best to take care of him when he’s not well.

“Hey uh could you get me the remote off the shelf.”

“Sure shal.” You reached for the remote on the shelf and handed to him.

“Could you watch this movie with me?”

“Of course.”

You were so sweet and nurturing what ever would he do without you?

Kurapika:

It was another honest day of watching Kurapika come in from work, or that’s what you thought. Oh how it killed you when he came through the front door bloodied and bruised.

Kurapika has came home with cuts and small things like that. But full on wounds? Not around you he hasn’t.

He feels as if he shouldn’t burden you with his work. That means bringing home bruises and injuries.

He takes care of it on his own. But today wasn’t one of those days.

Kurapika was tired and honestly didn’t have the energy to take care of himself.

When he walked in the front door you were sitting on the couch watching a movie. It made him feel like shit.

But when you wrapped those bandages around his wounds and cleaned them it opened Kurapika’s eyes to a new light.

[2millu2]

Mama, I’m in Love with a Criminal ఌ Gojo Satoru

☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙

✵ ft. Criminal Gojo x f.reader

✰༄ wc: 4k

༻ warning: smut, p in v, porn with plot, Criminal(Gojo), public sex (alleyway) cúnnilingus, marking, rough, bf Gojo , hair pulling, swearing, spanking, etc

✰★✰★✰★✰★✰★✰★✰★✰★✰★✰★

The sun had just set over the bustling city, casting its golden hues onto the tall buildings and busy streets below. You were standing in front of one of these towering structures, a police precinct filled with officers working tirelessly to maintain law and order in the metropolis. As a cop, you've worked countless cases, chasing leads, interrogating suspects, and arresting criminals. One particular criminal stands out from the rest, though – Gojo Satoru.

He was an infamous criminal, known for his cunning mind and extraordinary abilities, leaving behind a trail of chaos wherever he went. Rumors swirled around town about his involvement in underground activities that could topple entire empires, and the city's finest had been after him for months, but to no avail. His face was plastered on every wanted poster in the city.

But what none of your colleagues, nor the criminal underworld knew, was that you and Satoru shared a secret connection. A forbidden romance blossoming under the veil of darkness. Your relationship was a ticking time bomb, threatening to explode at any moment, with the possibility of jeopardizing your career and his freedom.

As you stand in the precinct, surrounded by fellow officers, your heart races with anticipation. You receive a text message from Satoru, and your breath catches in your throat as you read it.

"Hey, baby,

It's getting dangerous out here. They're starting to close in, and I'm not sure how much longer we can keep this up. I need to see you. Meet me at our spot tonight. Hurry."

His words send shivers down your spine, and you can't help but feel a sense of urgency. You quickly reply, your fingers trembling as you type.

"Okay, I'll be there. Stay safe."

A brief pause as you wait for his response, your heart pounding in your chest. Finally, another message pops up on your screen.

"I will. I love you."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you can't help but smile. Despite the danger surrounding them, the love between you and Satoru burns brighter than ever.

With a final glance at the precinct, you slip out into the night, making your way to the rendezvous point that you and Satoru have frequented in the past. The dimly lit alleyway, hidden away from prying eyes, has become your sanctuary, a place where you can be yourself without fear of judgment or discovery.

As you approach the entrance, you notice a figure leaning against the wall, his silhouette bathed in the pale moonlight. Your heart leaps as you realize it's Satoru.

"Hey," he says, his voice low and sultry, "I've been waiting for you."

He steps forward, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close. His body is warm and familiar, and you can't help but melt into his embrace. For a moment, you forget about the danger that surrounds you, lost in the depths of his gaze.

As Satoru pulls you closer, you feel the heat radiating off his body, and your heart races with anticipation. His hands trace delicate patterns on your back, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel the hardness of his muscles beneath his clothes, a testament to his strength and power. His scent, a mix of cologne and a hint of danger, fills your nostrils, and you inhale deeply, savoring the aroma.

"You've been gone for so long," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the sound of your racing heart. "I was worried."

Satoru leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a wave of electricity through your body. "I had to lay low, baby," he murmurs, his voice husky with seduction. "But I'm back now, and I need you more than ever."

His words send a jolt of desire through you, and you feel your panties growing wetter by the second. As much as you want to resist him, you know that you can't. You're powerless against the magnetic pull that Satoru exerts over you, and you surrender to his advances willingly.

He pulls away slightly, looking into your eyes, searching for something. "Are you ready?" he asks, his gaze intense.

You nod, unable to form words, your heart pounding in your chest. He smirks, a devilish grin spreading across his face, and before you know it, he's picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist naturally. You feel the hard bulge in his pants pressing against your core, and you bite your lips holding in the moan that threatens to come out.

As he carries you towards the end of the alley, you can't help but run your fingers through his snow-white hair, feeling its softness beneath your touch. He groans softly, his hips slowly bucking into yours, and you can tell that he's just as eager for this as you are.

Reaching the far end of the alley, he sets you down gently, he smirks before he trail his hands on your waist before coming up to your dark blue button up work shirt. He rips on the shirt and you gasp “Satoru that my work shirt”

“I’ll get you a new one”

He looks at your body revealing your gorgeous body and the lace blue bra. His eyes widen in appreciation, and you feel a surge of pride at his obvious admiration.

"You're beautiful," he whispers, running his fingertips lightly over your skin. "So perfect."

His words send shivers down your spine, and you arch your back, offering yourself up to him willingly. He takes the opportunity to kiss your stomach, his lips lingering on your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. You moan softly, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

He smirks, kissing his way up your stomach, his lips tracing a path towards your breasts. As he reaches the edge of your bra, he pauses, his eyes locking with yours.

"Do you want me to keep going, baby?" he asks, his voice thick with lust.

You nod, your breath hitching in your throat, your chest rising and falling rapidly. He smiles, a devilish grin spreading across his face, and he continues his journey upwards, his lips finally capturing one of your nipples through the fabric of your bra. You gasp, your body jolting with pleasure, and he groans softly, his erection pressing against your thigh.

He switches to the other nipple, giving it equal attention, and you can't help but squirm beneath him, desperate for more. His hands move to the clasp of your bra, and he unfastens it, exposing your erect nipples to his view. He groans, his eyes widening, and he leans in, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking it gently.

You cry out, your hands tightening in his hair, pulling him closer. He moans softly, his cock twitching against your thigh desperately grinding his cock on your thigh, and you can feel your own wetness seeping through your panties at his desperation.

He releases your nipple with a pop, his eyes locked on your gaze. "You want more, baby?" he asks, his voice hoarse with lust.

You shake your head yes, your heart pounding in your chest, your body screaming for more. He smirks, a wicked glint in his eyes, and he moves down, his lips trailing kisses along your stomach once more.

This time, he doesn't stop at your hips, but instead continues his descent, kissing and licking every inch of your skin. Your panties are soaked by the time he reaches the juncture between your thighs, and you can feel the dampness seeping through the fabric.

"Are you ready for me, baby?" he asks, his breath hot against your skin.

You nod, your eyes wide, your body trembling with anticipation. He smiles, his eyes gleaming with lust, and he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your uniform pants and panties, pulling them down slowly.

As they slide down your legs, you feel a sense of freedom, of vulnerability, and a rush of excitement. He pulled your pants panties down to your ankles, his eyes never leaving your wet pussy, and you feel a wave of embarrassment and desire wash over you.

But he doesn't give you time to dwell on your feelings. Instead, he leans in, his nose nuzzling against your inner thigh, his breath warm and moist against your skin. You gasp, your body jolting, and he chuckles softly, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your inner thigh.

Finally, he reaches his destination, his tongue darting out to lick a line across your sensitive flesh. You cry out, your body arching, your hands clenching into fists. He continues his onslaught, his tongue dancing over your puffy folds, teasing and probing your hole, driving you wild with desire.

"You taste so good," he murmurs, his voice low and sultry, "so sweet, all mine."

His words send a bolt of lust through you, and you feel your juices flowing freely, coating his face, he hungrily laps up all you juices.

As Satoru continues to tease and tantalize your hole with his tongue, you can't help but feel a sense of euphoria washing over you. His skillful tongue and fingers work together in perfect harmony, driving you closer and closer to the brink of orgasm.

"You're going to make me cum," you whisper, your voice hoarse with desire.

He chuckles, his breath warm against your skin, "That's the plan, baby."

He redoubles his efforts, his tongue diving deeper into your core, exploring every fold and crevice. Your body trembles, your cunt clenching around his tongue, and you know that it won't be long now.

As if sensing your impending climax, Satoru slows down, his tongue lingering on your most sensitive spots. He moves hand finger up to your clit rubbing it fast in circle motions. You whimper, your body writhing beneath him, desperate for release.

"Please," you plead, your voice barely audible above your own cries, "I need to come."

He smiles, a devilish grin spreading across his face, "Not yet, baby. We're not done yet."

He resumes his ministrations, his tongue dancing over your swollen lips, his fingers continuing teasing your clit. You cry out, your body shaking, and you feel the tsunami of pleasure building within you.

Suddenly, he stops, his tongue retreating, and you gasp, your body trembling with anticipation.

"But I'm not done with you yet," he growls, his eyes locked on yours.

Before you can protest, he positions himself between your legs, he pulls down his jeans and boxers and his hard cock springs out glistening with pre cum he strokes his cock walking towards and pressing against your entrance. You gasp, your body tensing, and he chuckles, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Are you ready for me, baby?" he asks, his voice thick with lust.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest, your body screaming for him to take you. He smirks, his eyes gleaming with triumph, and he lifts your up and you wrap your legs around his waist, he thrusts into you, burying himself to the hilt.

You cry out, your body arching, your nails digging into his shoulders. He groans, his eyes rolling back, and you can feel his cock throbbing within you, filling you with his essence.

As he begins to move, his hips bucking up into yours, you feel a sense of overwhelming pleasure wash over you. His cock slides in and out of your pussy, stretching and filling you, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge.

"You feel so tight, so wet, so fucking perfect," he growls, his voice hoarse with lust.

You can only nod, your body trembling, your mind lost in the sensation of his cock filling you completely.

His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more forceful, and you can feel the pressure building within you. Your body tenses, your muscles coiling, and you know that it won't be long now.

"Satoru," you whisper, your voice barely audible above your own cries, "I'm going to cum."

He smiles, a devilish grin spreading across his face, "cum for me, baby."

As if on cue, your body erupts, waves of pleasure crashing over you, tearing through you with reckless abandon. You cry out, your body convulsing, your cum flowing coating his cock

you collapse onto wall, panting heavily, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm, Satoru looms over you, his eyes locked on yours.

"That was just the beginning, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and sultry.

You can only nod, your mind whirling, your heart racing. As he withdraws from your still-quivering pussy, you feel a sense of loss, of emptiness. But you know that it won't be long before he fills you again.

He helps you to your feet, his arms wrapped around you, and you can feel the warmth of his body, the solidity of his muscles beneath his clothes. You lean into him, your body still tingling from your recent climax, and he groans softly, his cock hardening once more.

"I need you again," he whispers, his voice thick with lust, "I can't get enough of you."

He turns you over your back facing him and you place your hands on the brick wall and you arch your back ready for him, he smirks and lifts up one of your legs before sliding his hard cock back into you

you feel Satoru's hands gripping your hips, guiding his cock towards you. The anticipation builds, your mind racing with thoughts of how it felt moments ago, how he filled you completely, how you came so hard that you saw stars.

And now, he's preparing to do it again.

You feel him entering you, slow and steady, each inch filling you, stretching you, until he's buried to the hilt. A moan escapes your lips, your body trembling, and he grinds his pelvis against you, his cock throbbing within you.

"Savor it, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and sultry, "because this time, I'm going to make you scream."

He begins to move, his hips bucking, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy with ease. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, your body trembling, your mind whirling.

"You feel so good," he groans, his eyes locked on yours, " your mines, baby."

You can only nod, your body lost in the sensation of his cock filling you completely, his thrusts driving you closer and closer to the edge.

His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more relentless, and you feel the pressure building within you, the tsunami of pleasure looming.

"Satoru," you cry out, your voice hoarse with desire, "I'm going to cum."

He groans, he buries his head in your neck softly biting it, "give it to me, baby."

And with that, he redoubles his efforts, his cock slamming into you with fervor, his fingers digging into your hips. Your body tenses, your muscles coiling, and you know that it won't be long now.

He slaps your ass, watching it as it jiggle

Satoru, your feel so good, don’t stop I’m close” you moan fucking yourself back onto his cock

He toss his head back in pleasure gripping your hips tighter feeling his release also getting close, he grabs your hair pulling your back against his chest, he kisses you messily getting all your saliva everywhere.

your body erupts, waves of pleasure crashing over you, tearing through you with reckless abandon. You moan into the kiss your hands griping his wrist, your body convulsing, your juices flowing freely, coating his cock.

F-fuck I’m close, keep giving me that sweet pussy, baby” He groans, he grips your hair and thrust into your needy pussy faster his eyes rolling back, his cock pulsating within you, he grips your hips and let out soft whimpers in your ear as he fills your with his hot cum. Your orgasm seems to go on forever, each wave of pleasure leaving you breathless, spent.

As you collapse onto wall once more, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm, Satoru collapses beside you, his chest heaving, his cock still hard.

"That was amazing," he murmurs, his voice hoarse.

Come on let me take you home, just tell your officers that you felt sick today” he says putting on his clothes and helping you with yours

You can only nod, your mind whirling, your heart racing. As he picks you bridal style, his arms protectively wrapping around you, you feel a sense of contentment, of fulfillment. And while you know that the danger surrounding him is far from over, in this moment, you feel invincible.

Because when you're with Satoru, nothing else matters. It's just the two of you, lost in each other, willing to risk everything for the sake of love

❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙

Credits to the artist of the photo

[writingforatwistedworld]

Hi! You once wrote about Malleus going to the player's world, and up until now I finally got in time to ask for this, so could I ask for a similar premise as that but with Azul, Rook & Vil, please?

I have already done Vil in an indifferent post. You can find it here. I really wanted to make a new version of Azul though.

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, stalking, implied violence, death, murder, manipulation, unhealthy relationship

Azul Ashengrotto/Rook Hunt-Entering your world

Azul felt like an octopus out of water

When he had heard Jade yelling out a warning it was already too late and he was already falling down the stairs, a student he made a deal with not too long ago standing not too far, his hands lowering themselves from the pushing him

And now he was laying on the floor in a place he didn't recognize

Moonlight filtered through the window of the room and a sleeping figure almost completely covered by a blanket was illuminated by its light and the light from the phone they were laying next to, indicating that they fell asleep whilst using it

Did he teleport to a different place? Azul still felt the burning sensation of the hard stone of the stairs hitting his body so he might have done that out of desperation...

And desperate he was when you turned over in your sleep and he could see your face

And thus, the screaming began

Imagine his surprise, no his shock after seeing the person he had admired, sought after for so long laying in front of him in their pajamas

Although, it would be better to say you did lay in your pajamas because now you were jumping up in fear for your life

But after fearing that a madman had broken into your house life with Azul was pretty nice

Azul is a pretty good cook from running Mostro Lounge so him making dinner is like going to an expensive restaurant

There is that thing about him wanting to pay you rent though…

You see, Azul is not someone who wants to leech (haha, get it?) off of someone

So he takes on "side jobs"

Nothing dangerous, of course, but I think we can all agree that Azul in ANY job position is a safety hazard

Not because he is bad at what he does but because of his, how do I describe it, manipulative (?) ways

Sooner than later, it seems more like Azul is running the place he works at instead of his boss

But when you ever were to ask him what the heck he did to change the power dynamics so much in his favour, he plays innocent so I guess one point to him (although we all know better)

Back to your more private life, he may not seem like it but Azul can be one heck of a possessive guy

He won't jump the mailman, Azul knows that there is a point where his feelings get a bit too much (huh, so he is self aware?) but if you dare to bring a friend of your over? Uh... you still have friends?

I thought a certain person living with you scared all of them away

So let's say someone is still in a friendly relationship with you, nothing romantic, just friends

Let us call that person Example 1 (say hi to Example 1, Example 1 say hi to the reader)

Azul won't mind them coming over, he won't mind cooking for them, he won't mind playing nice with Example 1 but he will mind if they decide to come more than once

That glare he will send them will make them wonder if they get to see the light of the next dawn one more time

And perhaps the merman has another side job he hasn't told you about. And maybe that job allows him to do things that make the police gag

Shout out to the crime scene cleaners. Why is there even stuff from, you know what, on the ceiling? Maybe red paint will make the stains less noticeable. Oh god renovating this place will cost a fortune

Rook Hunt: the man, the legend, the not-so-sane hunter who could (and probably would if laws weren't a thing) shoot you simply for fun

Said man, legend, absolute menace to society, is not someone who is easily scared. Heck, he can probably hear dust falling to the ground for to his trained hearing which makes sneaking up on him absolutely impossible

What he cannot hear though is the almighty power of an author who decides to put him into a different world simply for the lols

So when the floor suddenly disappears and reappears two meters lower the poor man can't help himself but to stumble rather unelegant (unlike his usual self) into the wall, searching for something to hold on to just to smash his side against it

Wall-1:0-Rook

That does not change the situation though and the more or less mad hat-wearer gets a broom flung at his head

Rook is not someone who will sit around and do nothing though

After a lot of explaining (and you standing over him with a pan in hand for self-defense) you decide that his confused and lost self is a lot less charming than his usual one and you just allow him to stay

He will bring home edible plants and freshly shot meat (and if you live a meat-free lifestyle he will simply bring a bigger amount of edible flora)

WILL (and there is no escape from it) flirt with you in French (and now all my French readers, we all feel outraged by his bad translations)

But this is Rook so, of course, you think that this is just his usual chatter

He will also help you around the house. Your home has never been cleaner (I am convinced Vil controls Pomefiore for dust with white gloves)

He is great at ironing. Those long sleeves must have been great practice material

This reminds me, there had been an incident where he had been carrying your laundry from the cleaner and you bumped into him, leading him to crash into the exact same spot against the wall once more

Since that day Rook and that wall have a burning hatred for each other (more like Rook against the wall) and due to other events it's now 5:0 for the wall

But of course, we can't just focus on the lalala dreamland stuff

Once the dog of your neighbor decided to rip some of your stuff you owned and kept on your property to pieces

Your neighbor being an annoyance decided that “No, I won't pay. You should have looked out that MY dog wouldn't do that.”

Remember that Rook enjoys hunting?

Now, your neighbor doesn't know that so when they find their “little darling” dead in front of their house they can't reconnect it to you

Two nights later they wake up in a forest of some kind, that new roommate of yours staring down at them from a tree with an amused gaze, telling them he will let them have a headstart by one minute

Long story short, they weren't seen again

The young hunter may be a bit… much but he knows when to be discreet when he needs to be

And would you look at that? You also start to get frightened, leaving your home less and less

I mean, there have been disappearances around your neighborhood but look at the bright side, now you won't feel like someone is watching you from somewhere every time leave the house

He has a notebook that is just about you. From daily occurrences and what you did to your worries to your likes, hobbies and much more

Since Rook is Rook he will snuggle against you when you sleep and I don't mean this in a manner of you two sharing beds. Oh no, he has his own little space to sleep

This creep will slip into your bed just to carefully cuddle with you for an hour once you are asleep, then it's back to his own bed

Rook's list of victims grows double as fast as the list of great experiences he has with you

But not like that matters. All of them could disappear for all he cares. All he needs is you. Just you. Nothing else. Such a simple request, right?

[chiqelatasblog]

In the Middle Of the Night🌙

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Part Two is here.

-> Part Four is here.

Pairings : Bi-Han/ Sub-Zero x You, Kuai Liang/ Scorpion x You, Tomas Vrbada/ Smoke x You

Author’s Note : This chapter spans over 12,000 words as Kuai Liang unravels his story, and I’m quite pleased with the result. I hope you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. However, I want to provide a heads-up about a couple of sensitive topics covered in this chapter: food deprivation and references to past sexual abuse.

.

.

.

These burning flames, these crashing waves,

Wash over me like a hurricane.

I'll captivate, you're hypnotized,

Feel powerful, but it's me again.

CHAPTER THREE : KUAI LIANG

Kuai Liang had protected his heart well throughout his life.

He had learned to control his powers at a very young age. Compared to his older brother, he was more capable of destroying powers and creating serious dangers instantly if left unchecked. Hence, he had to master the art of composure and patience, ensuring his emotions remained tempered. As a pyromancer, fire was less forgiving than ice; even a small mishap could have serious consequences and quickly destroy whatever stood in its way.

As the Grandmaster’s son, Kuai Liang shouldered heavier responsibilities within their clan due to the hierarchical structure. This framework not only limited his interactions but also instilled a fear of accidentally harming others with his powers. Despite his efforts to erect emotional barriers for the safety of those around him, he struggled internally and envied his brothers. Unlike him, Bi-Han always has an intimidating aura around him, his icy powers reflecting his demeanor as he effortlessly distanced himself from others. In contrast, Tomas initially grappling with the loss of his own family, he eventually warmed up to others, radiating a friendly and approachable demeanor.

As they were sealed inside the book, they found themselves drifting apart. Bi-Han grew colder, even to him, while Tomas’s once bright eyes dimmed, reminiscent of the day they discovered him at the clan borders, drenched in the blood of his family, wearing a vacant expression. Kuai Liang became the conduit between his brothers, as the curse slowly consumed them from within.

Especially when she summoned them, that’s when everything spiraled downward. Kuai Liang didn’t realize the depth of their descent until they were already submerged in it, despite having endured so much already.

‘‘I told them that you could satisfy them, Kuai Liang. There are only five of them, you’re not going to mislead me, are you? I’m sure you’ll get over it.’’

His master’s hands rested on his shoulders, her lustily muffled breath tickling his ear, while Kuai Liang endeavored to remain still, his expression carefully blank. Standing naked before a vast, round bed swathed in luxurious satin sheets, he felt a prickling sensation crawl across his skin under the scrutinizing gaze of the small group gathered before him. The room glowed with the warm flicker of candles of various sizes, their dancing flames casting intricate patterns on the walls. A crackling fire burned in the nearby fireplace, its radiant heat almost overwhelming him, despite fire being his element. The intense warmth caused his skin to feel hot and sweaty, everything feeling too much at the moment.

The group, nestled on dark red satin sheets, observed him with a mix of curiosity and hunger, their whispers filling the air with anticipation. The heavy scent of aphrodisiac permeated the room, emanating from the candles—a deliberate attempt to set the mood, given Kuai Liang’s inability to do so himself.

Leilani, his master, coiled the chain of his collar around her fingers, the cold metal sending a shiver down his spine as she obediently lowered his head. She captured his lower lip between her teeth, biting down with a force that bordered on painful, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. Despite the discomfort, he remained stoic, his gaze unwavering as blood trickled down to his chin in a thin stream. A smirk of pleasure adorned Leilani’s lips as she licked the blood smeared on his lip with the tip of her tongue, savoring the metallic tang, before delicately tracing the blood trail on his chin with soft, deliberate licks.

“Don’t embarrass me, slave,” she remarked coldly.

As Kuai Liang managed to open his eyes with a ragged breath, everything appeared blurry at first. He felt a faint coolness on his forehead, his body weighed down by an unbearable ache in every muscle. With teeth clenched in pain, he struggled to regain focus.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” a soft, unfamiliar voice reached his ears, distinct from the nightmare he had just endured. Despite the heaviness of his eyelids, Kuai Liang managed to blink them open. As his vision cleared, your figure came into view. Whatever expression crossed his face, you spoke in a gentle, understanding tone.

“It’s okay, Kuai Liang. You’re safe, you’re in my house, remember?”

Your words triggered images to flood into his mind. He was out of the book, but when? How long had he been lying like this? His body throbbed with pain, suggesting he had been immobile for some time.

“Your throat must be quite dry. Wait, I’ll get you some water.”

Kuai Liang propped himself up with his elbows, wincing at the protest of his aching muscles. He watched as you poured water into a glass from a nearby jug and carefully sat down beside him.

“Here, let me put a pillow behind you to make you more comfortable.”

As you placed a pillow to support his back, Kuai Liang drew a deep breath, finally able to sit upright. Even this simple movement caused his muscles to rebel. Silently, you handed him the glass of water to drink. Kuai Liang grasped the cup with his numb fingers, feeling a surge of life as the cool water flowed down his parched throat. He finished the water in one go, thirst quenched like a desert traveler finding an oasis. When you refilled the glass and offered it again, he drank more slowly this time, savoring the refreshing liquid. Once his mouth felt moist enough to speak, Kuai Liang asked in a hoarse, wheezy voice, unused to speaking after days of silence.

“How many days have I been in bed?”

“It’s been a week,” you said in a kind voice, refilling his glass with water for the third time. Kuai Liang’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

“A week?”

“Yes, your brothers tried not to show it, but they were worried about you,” you said with a sweet smile. “But they had complete faith in you that you would get through this.”

“Where are they?” Kuai Liang asked as he took another sip from the glass. The water felt like medicine, satiating the last embers of fever that had spread from his lungs to his entire body, gradually calming him down.

“Bi-Han went out until about an hour ago. Tomas is sleeping in the living room.”

Kuai Liang couldn’t be sure he had heard the last part correctly. Tomas? Sleeping? How was this possible? Since the day they were sealed in the book, Tomas had always struggled to fall asleep. He fought insomnia, afraid of returning to the eternal darkness, and tried to cope by taking short naps whenever he could. Hearing that he was sleeping now didn’t sound convincing to Kuai Liang at all.

“Of his own accord?” Kuai Liang said, his voice filled with doubt and disbelief. Despite his frown, his expression remained composed. There was an understanding in your gaze, indicating you comprehended his reaction.

“Yes, it’s quite early for him to wake up, but if you want to see him, I can wake him up.”

“No, there’s no need.” Kuai Liang quickly opposed the idea. If Tomas managed to sleep, he wouldn’t want to disturb him. He knew how rare this situation was and wanted his brother to take advantage of it.

“Are you hungry? I made you some porridge so you could eat comfortably. I can heat it up and bring it if you want.”

Though Kuai Liang was once again surprised, he tried not to let it show too much on his face. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, a sign of his guard being raised. Had you prepared a meal for him, Kuai Liang wondered? The notion seemed as peculiar as Tomas managing to sleep. The only logical explanation he could muster was that you intended to ask for something in return for the food. After all, he had been bedridden for a week, too weak to follow orders. Ironically, it only took a simple command from you to spur him into action. You didn’t need to prepare anything in exchange. Yet, it was easier this way—to diminish their pride, as many masters before you had relished doing.

Despite having woken up, Kuai Liang’s body still felt weak. It was a challenge for him to muster the strength to prepare something for himself in order to regain his energy. Upon waking, his stomach stirred, reminding him of how hungry he truly was. With a metabolism faster than that of a normal person, he often found himself needing to consume more food. His old masters had exploited this trait, subjecting him to hunger tests and various trials to gauge his endurance. Through those experiences, Kuai Liang had learned the limits of hunger all too well.

“If you don’t like porridge, I can make soup or something different,” you said, your voice slightly faltering with the lengthening silence. Realizing Kuai Liang hadn’t answered, he pulled himself out of his thoughts and spoke hesitantly, choosing his words carefully.

“The porridge is fine. I prefer to eat it cold… I believe I’m warmed enough.’’

Your face unexpectedly brightened at his answer, and you stood up, a smile returning to your face.

“Great! Wait here, I’ll be right back. I’m sure you’ll feel better after eating.”

As you quickly left the room, Kuai Liang remained where he was leaning, trying to make sense of what had just happened. His tired gaze wandered around the room, realizing he wasn’t in the living room. It was your bedroom, filled with your personal belongings. Despite the open window airing the room, there was a faint, vaguely sweet smell that defined you, a scent he could only describe as feminine.

His gaze shifted to the thin blanket half pulled over him. As his fingers grazed the fabric, he tried to remember how he got here, but his memories were blurred. He could barely recall the conversations with Tomas and Bi-Han. All he could do was try to hold himself together at the moment. He felt as if he were burning with such intensity that he thought he would be reduced to ashes. While the fire consumed his body, he hadn’t experienced such a severe one before. He had never lost consciousness, although it always took him a long time to fully come to his senses after emerging from the book, unlike his brothers.

As you re-entered, Kuai Liang was snapped out of his thoughts, watching as you handed him the tray with a kind smile.

“Here you go, I hope you like it.”

Kuai Liang steadied the tray on his lap, gradually quelling the tremors in his hands. His gaze fell upon the bowl of porridge, its steam rising in wisps, teasing his nostrils with its warmth. His stomach clenched with a pang of hunger, urging him to devour the meal. With each passing moment, the gnawing sensation intensified, Kuai Liang dipped his spoon into the porridge to alleviate the relentless ache.

The porridge was cold, as you hadn’t heated it up as he requested and it was exactly what his body needed. With the first spoonful, he was taken aback by its unexpected deliciousness. While porridge was typically bland and unremarkable to him, the one you made was surprisingly rich in flavor. The chicken broth mingled seamlessly with the rice, enhanced by the spices you added, making it not only palatable but enjoyable to eat.

“Kuai Liang,” you chuckled softly, your voice triggering a strange sensation in his stomach, distinct from hunger. Turning his gaze to you, he was met with your gentle expression. “You should eat slowly. It’s been a while since you’ve eaten, and you’ll make your stomach uncomfortable at this rate. There’s a pot full of porridge still, so don’t worry.”

As the food settled in his stomach, Kuai Liang finished his mouthful and took a sip of water before speaking. Thankfully, his bronze skin hid the faint warmth creeping into his cheeks at your words. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this hungry; it was as if his strength would ebb away entirely if he didn’t eat, as if the gnawing feeling in his stomach would consume his entire body.

Due to his fast metabolism, he had to eat constantly to survive and keep his body fit and agile. His previous masters had exploited this weakness, subjecting him to tests of endurance. He was a fighter, refusing to surrender without a struggle. Over time, Kuai Liang had learned to endure hunger for extended periods, gritting his teeth against the relentless pain in his stomach.

One of the perpetual side effects of the book was to maintain their physical appearance, like a perfect gift always on display. Despite the hardships they faced, their bodies remained unchanged from when they were first sealed in the book. Their skin remained firm and devoid of signs of aging, while their muscles remained taut and defined.

Though he felt powerless due to the lack of proper nourishment, Kuai Liang avoided showing weakness to the outside world, especially to the master of the book at the time. His brothers had been his biggest support. While Bi-Han and Tomas often shared their food with him, Kuai Liang initially tried to refuse their help. Ultimately, they all needed sustenance to endure and find a solution to their nightmare. Even though Bi-Han could go days without eating, Kuai Liang didn’t want him to endure the same deprivation.

“Thank you,” Kuai Liang said after a while. “That’s enough for me.”

Your furrowed eyebrows revealed your disbelief. “You’ve been sleeping for days, Kuai Liang. From what I’ve learned from your brothers, considering your metabolic rate, you need to eat at least four servings from that bowl, not to mention your body size. If you don’t like it, I can make something else, but you definitely need to eat. I don’t want you walking around hungry.” you insisted, your voice laced with concern.

Kuai Liang probably looked at you with surprise, though he managed to conceal it on his face. What? Your innocent tone and facial expression seemed to support each other seamlessly. Obviously, you didn’t know anything about his past, and he didn’t expect his brothers to say anything about it. You hadn’t ordered them to gather any information either.

“No, the porridge is fine, thank you,” Kuai Liang tried to smoothly continue. “Can I have more?”

“Of course!” Your smile widened, your whole face lighting up with joy as if the sun had risen upon you. Kuai Liang felt that strange ache again as he looked at you. “I thought you’d never ask!”

***

After Kuai Liang finished all the food in the pot and took a cold shower, he felt refreshed. His body was free from the days’ accumulated sweat, his stubble shaved, and his hair pulled back neatly. It was a strange feeling to have a full stomach, having forgotten what it felt like. Yet, there was a sense of peace within him. A weight had lifted, quieting the constant alertness that had consumed him for so long.

Arriving at the entrance of the living room, Kuai Liang encountered Bi-Han in the narrow hallway. His brother scrutinized him in silence from head to toe, assessing if he was well enough to stand.

“You look well,” said Bi-Han, his voice barely audible. “Do you feel as well as you look?”

“Yes, brother,” Kuai Liang replied, forcing a small smile to accompany his words. “How are you and Tomas? Was there anything I missed in a week?”

Bi-Han fell silent for a moment, nodding towards the study room adjacent to the bedroom. Kuai Liang followed his brother quietly into the room, and Bi-Han closed the door behind them, lowering his voice despite its depth.

“Tomas has begun to lose himself to the woman,” Bi-Han’s words filled the room with an icy chill. Kuai Liang observed his brother’s stern expression, which conveyed his displeasure with the situation. Despite their painful past and Tomas’s training as an assassin by the Lin Kuei, his inherent naivety had persisted, a trait Kuai Liang had always found unique. His brother lacked a judgmental nature, easily believing whatever he was told.

Since their time in the book, Tomas had changed like the rest of them. Whoever became the master of the book, Tomas obeyed them almost flawlessly, swiftly fulfilling orders and expectations. Kuai Liang soon understood why – it was the same as when he was trying to adhere to the Lin Kuei. He had no choice but to comply in order to survive in this new world where he didn’t know the rules. Yet, there was one person who made Tomas hesitate, offering a glimmer of hope in their dark world and suggesting that the cycle could be broken.

“How so?” Kuai Liang asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“You heard me.” Bi-Han replied.

“Like what happened with Leilani?”

“It may be even worse than that,” Bi-Han snarled, his face contorting with rage at the mention of their old master’s name. ‘’The speed at which she’s manipulated him is unprecedented.”

“How is that possible? Tomas was cautious after what happened.”

“You haven’t spent time with the woman. She offers him everything he desires, and he willingly accepts. They’re always together, laughing, touching, kissing. It’s all by his own consent.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“You know how long it took him to recover after Leilani. If this woman can make this much progress in a week, imagine what will happen when we return to the book in three months.”

“Wait a minute,” Kuai Liang tried to digest the information, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep breath. “She told me that… Is it true that Tomas is sleeping of his own accord?’’

“Yes,” Bi-Han confirmed, his anger palpable.

‘’Damn it,” Kuai Liang muttered, running a hand over his head in frustration. All three of them harbored an aversion to darkness, but for Tomas, it went beyond mere dislike—it was pure loathing. He avoided closing his eyes for extended periods and fought against sleep as much as possible. The fact that he could now sleep next to you, in his most vulnerable state, only heightened Bi-Han’s concerns. Tomas had never revealed this side to anyone, not even to the master of all the books that had come and gone, except Leilani. Yet, even Leilani took a considerable amount of time to witness this aspect, setting a new record compared to their previous experiences.

“I’ve been constantly warning him to get it into his thick head and not trust the woman, but he doesn’t listen to me. Go talk to him, try to stop him from getting any more attached. Maybe your moderate approach will ring a bell for him.”

“If the situation is as serious as you say, brother, I don’t think Tomas will listen to me either.”

“Well, what shall we do then? Shall we allow his feelings to be manipulated, humiliated, and used again? We’ve been through this once, Kuai Liang, and I swore it wouldn’t happen again,” Bi-Han’s voice was as cold and harsh as winter itself, his demanding gaze piercing through him like a blade.

“Okay, I’ll talk to him.”

Taking another deep breath, Kuai Liang exited the room, silently following the voices until he reached the entrance of the living room. Both of you were engrossed in examining a pile of books on the kitchen island, your conversation too hushed for him to make out. However, judging by the expressions on your faces, you appeared to be in good spirits. Shifting his focus entirely to his brother, Kuai Liang comprehended Bi-Han’s concerns more clearly.

There was a calmness in Tomas’s expression that Kuai Liang hadn’t seen in a long time, almost peaceful. It was a departure from his usual artificial and distant smile, a sign of his increasing pessimism over the years. Despite his youth, his face carried a weight beyond his years, rivaling even Bi-Han’s gloominess.

The way he’s watching you now, with one hand casually supporting his chin and a subtle smile playing on his lips, rather than being absorbed in the book before him, is very different from what he’s used to. He would never have imagined it if he hadn’t seen it for himself. Seeing his brother carefree and relaxed, just like old times, filled Kuai Liang with concern instead of contentment. Bi-Han was right; Tomas had gotten carried away with you, and from what he observed, the situation was much more serious than he thought.

“Do you understand what I mean now?” Bi-Han’s voice came from right behind him, close enough for Kuai Liang to feel his cool breath on his neck. Kuai Liang didn’t say anything. After silently nodding in agreement, he stepped in, and you both snapped out of the peaceful bubble you had created upon noticing his arrival.

“Kuai Liang, good morning! I heard you were up, but you were in the shower when I got up. How do you feel? Are you better?” Tomas greeted him in a somewhat cheerful voice. Now that he could see him up close, Kuai Liang could discern the details better. While his pale face should have been marked with dark circles due to his usual insomnia, Tomas’s face had a lightness that indicated he had a good sleep. There were no stress lines, and his dull gray eyes were bright and sharp, as if life had returned to them.

Kuai Liang still found it hard to believe the change that had occurred in such a short time. He answered Tomas’s question in a flat voice,“Yes, I feel much better now.” To divert Tomas’s attention and avoid probing further, he turned his gaze to the books you were examining. “What are you doing?”

“We’re looking for a solution to break the curse,” you intervened in a soft voice. “I found these books in the library; I thought maybe there might be something useful in them.” Your gaze shifted from him to the notebook in front of you, scribbling something that he couldn’t read from this distance. “We’ve tried several solutions so far, but none of them have worked.”

“What were the things you tried?”

“Well, I tried to buy a small bottle of holy water from a church nearby and bless the book. When that didn’t work, I read somewhere that a little blood and certain prayers could be effective in breaking the curse, so I tried that this time.”

You raised your left hand and showed him your palm, revealing a long, thin cut running from the little finger to the thumb. Judging by the look of the cut, it seemed to have been at least a few days old. Kuai Liang was surprised that you had hurt yourself for them, but his astonishment faded when he reminded himself that this was likely part of the deception.

“You said burning didn’t work, but I tried it again to explore every possibility. Besides that, there’s actually another method that comes to my mind; there are people who specialize in breaking curses. Normally, I didn’t really believe in such things, but after all this, I’m considering every possibility now. I don’t know how we can explain this whole thing to them, but maybe I can ask them for help. If I can’t break the curse, at least they can guide us.”

“I don’t know how much more we have to tell you to make you understand.” Bi-Han’s voice interrupted as he entered the living room. Kuai Liang observed you shift in your seat anxiously, while Tomas subtly straightened his posture in a protective manner. “You can’t break Quan Chi’s curse with such ridiculous things. If it were that easy, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“I know, but—”

“Stop this game,” Bi-Han interjected, his tone growing impatient. Although you tried not to show your uneasiness, you shifted again, and your hands clenched into fists on the counter, uncertain of what to do.

“What game?” You asked in a soft yet timid voice. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Unwanted help would only be an imposition. There’s no one here who wants your help. Is that so hard to understand, or are you really daft?”

As Tomas quickly rose from his seat, the chair made a painful squeal against the floor. “Bi-Han! Take back your words.”

“Do you realize who you are defending from whom?” Bi-Han growled, his demeanor emanating a threatening coldness, yet there was a determination in Tomas’s stance that he would not back down from his statement. Although Kuai Liang still couldn’t decipher how things had escalated to this point in just a week, he intervened to diffuse the situation before it escalated further.

“Guys-”

However, you acted before him, placing one hand on Tomas’s arm and drawing his attention back very easily, as if you had pressed a button.

“It’s all right, Tomas,” you said in a kind voice.

“But-”

“It’s alright,” your voice was still gentle, but there was also a certainty that emphasized the words. “There’s no harm, I’m fine.” After gently patting him on the arm, you continued to talk, focusing your gaze on one point rather than turning to them. On the other hand, you got up from where you were sitting and started picking up the mess on the counter. “I have a job interview, I won’t be here for a few hours. I’ll be back before sundown.” Just before closing your notebook, you suddenly turned your head to Kuai Liang as if something had occurred to you. “Oh, I almost forgot. On my way back, I’ll stop by the grocery store and shop for a few necessities for home. Is there a dish you like?”

Kuai Liang was stunned by this unexpected question. “A dish I like?” he echoed, his brows furrowing and incredulity evident in his voice. Despite the tension that just happened, you still answered his question with a small smile that you managed to put on your face.

“Yes. I want to make a meal that you like to celebrate your recovery; I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

***

“Why do you have to keep being rude?” As Tomas paced angrily around the room, Bi-Han lounged on a single sofa, spreading his legs in a relaxed manner that suggested he was indifferent to the situation. Kuai Liang observed the two of them, sensing a tingling at the nape of his neck—a foreboding sign of the headache that was about to enter his head.

“I’m tired of explaining, but you’re still not tired of asking same questions. I can actually understand why you’re getting along with her so well; you’re both terribly insistent on not understanding.”

“You’re only acting like a bully by being rude to someone who doesn’t deserve it,” said Tomas, as he stopped pacing and stood in front of Bi-Han. Bi-Han tilted his head back slightly, maintaining eye contact with Tomas and quietly responding to his challenge. While it was common for the two of them to struggle to find common ground and for Kuai Liang to act as mediator, this confrontation felt different. Tomas was resolute in his determination to protect you, leading him to confront Bi-Han. The presence of someone unfamiliar getting under his brother’s skin was evident. Kuai Liang found himself straddling the line between frustration over the situation and concern for Tomas.

“She’s already wrapped you around her finger. Just like Leilani-”

“Don’t mention her name,” Tomas interjected, his voice unusually harsh. “There is a difference between them; she is a really nice person. Is it that hard to believe?”

“And so you’ve figured it out in a short period of time, like a week. Congratulations to you. I wish you could really hit it this time compared to last time.”

“Bi-Han-”

When Kuai Liang rose to intervene with a warning tone, Tomas acted before him and grabbed Bi-Han with a rustle, at a speed that even Bi-Han could not decipher.

“Do you know what your problem is? You’re a coward.”

“Tomas-”

“Let him finish, Kuai Liang,” said Bi-Han, his voice eerily calm.

“You’re afraid to trust, aren’t you? That’s why you’re like this; you don’t want to let anyone near you through your arrogant walls.”

Tomas’ words hung heavily in the air, a tense silence covering the room as his words echoed on the walls. Bi-Han’s expression was illegible, but Kuai Liang could feel the anger boiling under the surface. After all, he knew his brother well enough to understand when his boundaries were being pushed.

“You think you understand everything, don’t you?” Bi-Han retorted, his voice piercingly cold. “You, who wear your heart on your sleeve, dare to juge me?”

“I’m not judging you; I’m just stating the truth.” After Tomas finished his words, he released Bi-Han and left the room in a cloud of smoke. Kuai Liang heard the faint click of the study door closing nearby.

“You’re going at him too hard,” He said with a sigh. “Even if he has an interest in her, don’t turn it into spite with your approach.”

‘’Do you think it’s up to my approach? Just look at him, he’s already under her spell.’’ Bi-Han argued.

‘’Even so, he is our brother. He needs our support. Stop setting him against you.’’

‘’He is the one who confronted us for the woman.’’

‘’You’re the one who triggered it,’’ Kuai Liang said, his patience wearing thin. ‘’Go get some air, collect your thoughts. I’ll take care of Tomas.’’

‘’Give him some mind.’’

Due to the small size of the house, Kuai Liang easily left the living room behind. When he reached the study, he softly opened the door and entered. Tomas stood a little further away, in front of the window, arms crossed, watching outside silently. He spoke in a dry voice without turning his head, even though he heard Kuai Liang’s approach.

‘’If you’re going to say the same things as Bi-Han, don’t bother at all.’’

“We are both thinking only of your well-being, Tomas.’’

“Come on, Kuai Liang, I’d rather you speak for yourself,’’ Tomas retorted. Kuai Liang gently placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Tomas didn’t push it away, but he still didn’t turn his head, his gaze fixed outside, his expression tense, the muscle on his chin clearly showing that he was angry about what had happened.

‘’You know Bi-Han, he may seem cold from the outside, but you know as well as I that he cares, he just fails to show it.’’

“Okay, maybe there’s some merit to his worries, but she didn’t do anything to deserve it, the only thing she’s shown us since the moment we came out of the book is just kindness, Kuai Liang. Thanks to her, I can sleep. You know too well what this means to me.’’ Tomas finally met his eyes, sincerity evident in his gaze. ‘‘I want you to give her a chance.’’

“Tomas-‘’

“I know you don’t trust her, but trust me,” his brother said, his voice tinged with a plea. “I understand I’m asking too much, but if you give her a chance, you’ll understand what I meant.”

Kuai Liang was at a loss for words. Tomas was more attached than he thought. Trust? He should have known that this was not possible, especially after what happened to them and the memories that still haunted his nightmares… He decided to drop the subject for now, it was clear they wouldn’t get anywhere if this matter dragged on.

When Kuai Liang initiated a small conversation to find out what had been going on for a week, Tomas set aside the tension and began to provide him with a summary of recent events. Kuai Liang observed his brother’s eyes light up and an small smile grace his face as he spoke about you. Despite appreciating Tomas’s strength in choosing to trust you, Kuai Liang couldn’t shake the bitter pain of the possibility of leaving wreckage in its wake. Collecting the pieces was becoming increasingly difficult, and this time, the prospect of there being any pieces left to gather was doubtful.

As time passed and the sun set, casting colorful lights across the cityscape outside the window, Kuai Liang felt his body slowly begin to ache. His joints felt as though there was no cartilage between them, his mouth was dry, and his eyes burned. A throbbing headache started to pulse at his temples, while a wave of dizziness washed over him, causing him to sway unsteadily for a moment. Tomas, too, rubbed his eyes, indicating that he was experiencing similar symptoms.

“How many hours has she been gone?” Kuai Liang asked as he left the room, with Tomas trailing behind him.

“Four or five hours, I think.”

He found Bi-Han standing up and scratching his arms almost to the point of bleeding, Kuai Liang called out to him to stop. Bi-Han, however, seemed oblivious to his surroundings. For some reason, Bi-Han was the most sensitive among them. While Kuai Liang and Tomas could endure their master’s absences for a while, Bi-Han almost lost his mind during those times. The icy force that cocooned him decayed, and when faced with the outside world, Bi-Han couldn’t adapt to the change in temperature, causing his skin to painfully burn.

“Bi-Han! You have to stop before you hurt yourself,’’ Kuai Liang urged as he grabbed one of Bi-Han’s wrists and tried to pull him out of the trance. Bi-Han, lost in his agitation, initially didn’t register Kuai Liang’s presence, snarling like a wild animal and glaring with a crazed look in his eyes. Undeterred, Kuai Liang maintained his calm demeanor and tried again, ‘’You’re hurting yourself brother. You have to stop.’’

With a blink, Bi-Han snapped out of his trance, wrenching his wrist from Kuai Liang’s grip with force as he regained his composure, cursing angrily.

‘’Where the hell has this damn woman disappeared to? She should have been here hours ago!’’.

“This is the first time this has happened,” Tomas intervened, approaching them with a nervous look on his face. “Could something have happened to her?”

Kuai Liang had considered this possibility as well. If you were truly as kind-hearted as Tomas claimed, your intention couldn’t have been to cause them suffering, even if you knew they would be weakened by your absence. He knew that Tomas struggled to adapt to the outside world after emerging from the book, and Bi-Han would have been incapable of going out to search for you in that state, likely resorting to attacking someone or causing further harm to himself.

‘’I’ll go look after her, you stay here.’’ Ultimately, Kuai Liang decided it was best for him to handle the situation himself.

‘’I’m going with you too,’’ Tomas insisted.

‘’No, you stay with Bi-Han. It’s better that he’s not alone in this state.’’

‘’I’m not a cripple-‘’ Bi-Han began, but his words trailed off as the front door swung open. All three turned towards the door as you entered, raincoat soaked and holding a wet paper bag in one hand while the other seemed to conceal something under your raincoat. As your presence instantly offered them relief, Bi-Han lunged forward, bypassing any attempts to stop him, and positioned himself next to you, his stance emitting threatening signals from all sides.

‘’Where the hell have you been?’’ he demanded, leaning in closer. As Bi-Han cornered you, Kuai Liang moved to intervene with Tomas, while you attempted to explain yourself with a nervous, agitated tone. Startled by the tension, the paper bag slipped from your hand and fell to the ground.

‘‘I’m so sorry! On my way back, I found this kitten.” you said. Opening the front of your raincoat, you revealed the tiny feline tucked inside. Its meowing broke the tension as its head emerged. Tomas and Kuai Liang flanked Bi-Han, their attention captured by the small, pitiful-looking kitten. With a completely black body, its fur contrasted sharply with the white around its gray eyes and the pink tip of its nose. Its ears stood erect atop its small head.

‘’It was on the side of the road, its mother had been hit by a car, and its siblings had also perished. I discovered it nestled among them, trying to find warmth. I couldn’t leave it there,” you explained, your voice soft with compassion.

Bi-Han scoffed, “You have no livelihood, and your house is too small for all of us to fit in. As if all this wasn’t enough, are you going to try to take care of a fleabag now?’’ Despite his bother’s harsh and offensive words, the kind expression on your face while caring for the kitten remained unchanged.

“I will be its foster home. When it gets well enough, it’ll go to its real family.”

Bi-Han glanced at you briefly, muttering, “Whatever,” before pivoting on his heels and retreating to the living room. Tomas came up to you, giving you a little kiss on the top of your head and stroking the kitten that was perched on your lap. Relief washed over his face after he confirmed that you hadn’t suffered any harm.

“Are you going to give her a name?” he asked curiously.

“Yes, because it feels strange in my head to constantly call it ‘kitten.’ Does anyone have any ideas?” When your gaze turned to both of them, Kuai Liang remained silent, captivated by your image. Your cheeks and the tip of your nose were flushed from the rain outside, your skin and hair wet, and a sincere smile hidden on your face that touched his heart. You looked painfully innocent standing there with the kitten in your lap, a different image from the masters of the other book he had encountered so far.

“How about the name of that actor we watched last time?” Said Tomas, as he continued to stroke the kitten’s chin. The kitten’s eyes were closed in happiness, emitting loud purrs that reverberated through its tiny body, indicating how much it enjoyed being petted.

“Johnny Cage?” A small laugh poured from your lips. Kuai Liang tried not to dwell on how sweet and addictive your laugh had an air. “I’m sorry, but I think it’s a lady, Tomas. Oh, I found it! How about Ninja? She is a warrior just like you guys.”

“We are not ninjas,” Kuai Liang couldn’t help himself but chuckle at your suggestion. “But because the fur around her eyes is white, it looks like she’s wearing a mask. Ninja is actually not a bad name.”

“Yes, it suits her.”

“Good, then from now on your name is Ninja, little one. I couldn’t get the job, but I found you, so I guess it’s a win-win.” you said, stroking the kitten’s head. “I need to wash her thoroughly, she’s too dirty. After that, I’ll start on cooking. Is everyone hungry?”

***

Kuai Liang was completely silent as he looked at the plate you left in front of him. He didn’t really think you were going to make the food he liked.

‘’What’s the matter?’’ Tomas looked at him with sidelong eyes while stuffing a generous amount of morsel into his mouth. ‘‘You haven’t even touched your plate once.’’

‘’Aren’t you hungry?’’ You said in a slightly worried voice. Kuai Liang lifted his gaze from the food in front of him and looked at you. As he met your gaze, he noticed the fatigue evident in your eyes, weariness etched into their corners. Kuai Liang muttered in a voice that sounded foreign to his own ear.

‘’This is jiaozi.’’ He said, as if that cleared everything up.

‘’Yes.’’ You continued to speak despite your statement that you did not understand what he meant. ‘‘I’ve never done it before, so I had to look on the internet a little. Did I do it wrong?’’

Against the innocent question, Kuai Liang found himself confronting a flood of unfamiliar emotions. The last time he ate Jiaozi—also known as Chinese dumplings—was at Lin Kuei, and their father had not yet died. Kuai Liang had always liked eating this food. Normally, eating was more mechanical for him because of his metabolism, and it was an action he needed to do to survive, but he ate this meal completely arbitrarily. Now, years later, seeing this dish in front of him again made him feel nostalgic along with feelings he couldn’t name. Moreover, even though you didn’t know how to make this dish, the fact that you tried just because you knew that he loved it deeply affected him and changed the rhythm of his heart for a moment. For the first time, he felt cared for by someone outside of his family.

‘’No, it looks fine.’’ He said, in a voice that was hard to hear.

‘’Then you better taste it before it gets cold.’’ After Tomas poked him with his shoulder, Kuai Liang picked up one of the dumplings with his chopsticks and put it in his mouth. A contented hum escaped his throat as the flavor he had forgotten instantly flooded his palate, taking him back to his memories.

‘’It’s quite delicious.’’ He said, appreciating your hard work without concealment. ‘‘Thank you.’’

With those words, a genuine smile lit up your face, radiating warmth and sincerity that momentarily stole Kuai Liang’s breath away. He couldn’t help but marvel at the allure you possessed, understanding a little better now why Tomas was drawn to you. Your sincerity and infectious smile had a way of making others believe, effortlessly bridging any gaps in communication. It was easy to forget your role as the owner of the book when you interacted with them so naturally, blurring the lines between master and slave with remarkable ease.

“Great, because I made a pot full of this, it’s nice that you like it.’’ You said with a chuckle. Then you left them for a minute to give Ninja the little plate you had prepared. After you had cleaned and dried Ninja nicely, you released her to explore the house. The kitten had adapted to the environment as easily as if she had been a member of this house for years. There was no indication in her small body that she was afraid of them. In fact, on the contrary, she was constantly chasing Bi-Han as if she was thirsty for his attention. Bi-Han finally couldn’t stand the kitten’s high-pitched meows and chasing after him anymore, so he went into the study and closed the door behind him. Ninja had not left the door since he had entered the room.

‘’Come along, sweet thing, it’s dinnertime.’’

You returned with Ninja on your lap, and when you placed her on the floor and left the food you had prepared in front of her, Ninja completely forgot about Bi-Han and focused on the food in front of her. Kuai Liang slightly stretched out from his seat, watched the kitten eating with a half smile, attacking her food with a great appetite and emitting strange, happy noises.

‘‘If you don’t want to turn into an ice floe, I suggest you don’t follow that grump.’’ said Tomas, swallowing the morsel he was chewing.

‘‘I think he’ll get used to it,’’ your soft voice was tinged with hope as you reached for your own plate. ‘’Who can say no to a cute kitten?’’

‘’Bi-Han, of course.’’ Tomas quipped.

‘’Maybe he can get used to it after spending some time,’’ Kuai Liang said, joining you. ‘’Ninja looks pretty convincing.’’

‘’Isn’t she?’’ Laughing, you raised your own glass of the wine you had opened with the meal. ‘’To Ninja.’’

Tomas and Kuai Liang also chuckled and raised their glasses, clinking them together. As Kuai Liang took a sip of his wine, he felt inexplicably light at that moment, as if the damage that the past years had left on his body and mind had lifted a little, leaving him temporarily free to enjoy the moment. After allowing himself to eat as much as he wanted again, just like in porridge, Kuai Liang once again encountered the strangeness of feeling his stomach full. It didn’t seem like this feeling could get used to for a while longer.

As he lay on the sofa, one hand over his stomach and the other behind his head, many thoughts ran through his mind. They helped you clean up after dinner, and when you retreated to your room after saying that the day was tiring and you couldn’t stand up anymore, Tomas—and of course Ninja—followed you.

Even though he guessed that the two of you were sleeping together, it felt different to witness it. It’s like… it’s like he wanted to be there, in that bed with you, even though he didn’t want to admit it, even though he didn’t want to think about it. There was a kind of jealousy in his feelings this time, rather than his concern for Tomas. He could see how good you were for Tomas, and a part of him longed for that connection too. It was like catching a glimpse of heaven, yet he couldn’t fully embrace it. He both wanted and didn’t want more, the conflict he fell into was incomprehensible even to himself.

Although Kuai Liang couldn’t understand how it happened, his eyes closed after a while, and he found himself facing one of his old memories.

‘’Come here, Kuai Liang.’’

Leilani’s voice was alluring yet toxic as she pulled on the chain attached to his collar, coaxing him into bed. He despised the collar, feeling like a mere animal under her control. Despite his inner protest, he knelt beside her on the satin sheets. A satisfied smile appeared on Leilani’s face as he knelt down.

Kuai Liang was surprised more and more every time how he could have been attracted to this woman once. It was a ridiculous situation to have allowed himself to be deceived so easily; now when he looked, all he saw was nothing more than a venomous snake, dangerous, cruel, and selfish.

‘‘I will host a celebration tomorrow, and some of my most important guests will be in attendance. While Tomas doesn’t have problems getting hard quickly due to his youth, I need someone who can go more than a few rounds. Taming Bi-Han can be tiresome; his stubbornness is often exhausting.” When Leilani grasped his manhood and caressed it with interest, although Kuai Liang maintained his expressionlessness, his skin stretched in disgust. He couldn’t stand the touch of this woman. ‘’You know what I want from you, don’t you? Have no doubt that I will reward you well, Kuai Liang. You know, I keep my word.’’

Kuai Liang wanted to scream, telling her to hold her forked tongue between her teeth to her face. This was almost a need rather than a desire; it had been a long time since her hollow promises had lost their meaning for him. After he remained silent, Leilani pulled the chain harder. With a sudden tightening of his throat, his breath remained congested in his throat, and a muffled sound left his lips.

‘’I cannot hear that you approve of my words,’’ Leilani said, almost hissing. He was clenching his jaw, pressing his teeth together so hard that for a moment he thought they would break under the pressure he was applying. When he managed to say the words, albeit with difficulty, Leilani’s dark green eyes shone with satisfied sparkles.

‘’That is my warrior, always ready to satisfy.’’

As Kuai Liang opened his eyes with a sharp breath, the morning sun greeted him warmly, casting a golden glow across the room. He blinked away the remnants of nightmare, his hand instinctively reaching to brush aside the strands of hair that had fallen across his face during the night. When he heard the front door click, he opened one eye and turned towards the door, only to find you there, looking slightly guilty as if caught in the act.

“Good morning. Did I wake you up again?” you asked in a whispering voice.

“No, I’ve just woken up,” Kuai Liang replied, his brow furrowing slightly as he noticed your attire. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I need to buy cat litter and food for Ninja. Would you like to accompany me? It won’t take long.” you offered. Thinking it would be beneficial to get some fresh air and distance himself from the walls that surrounded him, Kuai Liang accepted your invitation. Since he was already warm enough, he didn’t bother to grab any additional clothing, knowing that none of your clothes would fit him anyway. As you walked out of the apartment together, he took a deep breath, relishing the scent of the earth after last night’s rain. The clean smell soothed his heart, which had been beating irregularly, and the act of stepping outside helped to ease his tense muscles and nerves.

“Did you sleep well?”

Kuai Liang decided to be honest in his response, knowing he shouldn’t hide the truth from you. His expression clearly conveyed that he hadn’t slept well, and there was no point in pretending otherwise.

“No, I usually have nightmares quite often. So even though I can sleep, I can’t say it’s ‘good,’” he admitted.

Your face softened under the morning sun, your caring gaze causing his heart to flutter. Your words were laced with sadness, mirroring the same emotion in your eyes.

“I use aromatherapy candles to help Tomas sleep, and they obviously work. If you want, I can give them to you to help. Maybe they’ll help you relax a little and prevent the nightmares,” you suggested, your voice filled with hope and sincerity. Kuai Liang considered your offer while silently studying you. It wasn’t just the candles that helped Tomas sleep; it was your presence. Your presence brought him peace. But he didn’t voice that sentiment out loud.

“Thank you,” he said finally. “I’d like to try.”

After responding to his answer with a smile, you began to introduce him to the surroundings. As you talked about where you usually shop for groceries and how you like to buy yourself coffee and sweet rolls from the little coffee shop on the corner from time to time, especially when the weather is nice in the nearby park, you take your book and read or go for a walk. With each detail about your everyday life, Kuai Liang felt himself decelerating even more as he listened to you, and the traces of his nightmare were erased from his mind.

As you recounted a funny incident to him, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory. You explained how, in the past, you were walking through the park, lost in thought, when suddenly a squirrel darted out from a nearby bush and startled you. Startled, you leaped back in surprise, only to trip over a wayward tree root and land flat on your back, much to the amusement of onlookers nearby.

‘’I hope you didn’t frighten the poor squirrel too much,” Kuai Liang raised an eyebrow, his eyes alight with amusement. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in ages—simple, almost childlike, yet undeniably refreshing. He felt free from the weight of his past, not defined by his role as a slave or an assassin at the moment.

‘’Hey, he scared me first. Besides, we’ve already negotiated a peace treaty since then. I even gave him a few nuts as a gesture of goodwill,” you replied, a sweet giggle escaping your lips.

“Ah, so you’re a diplomat as well as… What? A squirrel whisperer?” he quipped, a small, teasing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. A sense of disbelief washed over him—how could he find such joy, effortlessly smiling and laughing, with not a single troubling thought in his head.

You laughed at his response, the sound ringing out joyfully in the quiet street. Kuai Liang found himself captivated by the sight of you, so carefree and full of life. It made you seem so much younger and more beautiful, your eyes sparkling with mirth, your cheeks flushed with laughter. In that moment, he felt a swell of pride, knowing that he could bring such joy to you with just a simple exchange. It was almost magical to witness firsthand, and he couldn’t help but feel grateful for the opportunity to share this moment with you.

“I named him Theodore, after a character from a kids’ movie,” you explained with a smile. “He’s quite a chubby squirrel, but you’ll like him. He’s got quite the personality.”

***

It had been a week and a half since Kuai Liang had ventured out of bed, and during that time, he found himself gradually becoming accustomed to your constant presence. Despite his initial resistance, he couldn’t deny the magnetic pull you seemed to have on him. Every unexpected gesture or interaction only served to deepen his connection to you, making it increasingly difficult for him to maintain his distance.

Despite your respectful boundaries and reluctance to initiate physical intimacy, Kuai Liang couldn’t help but be captivated by the chemistry between you and Tomas. Your gentle exchanges and tender gazes toward his brothers stirred a longing within him, a desire to be a part of the connection you shared. Yet, his past experiences lingered like a shadow, a constant reminder of the risks involved in opening up to vulnerability. So, Kuai Liang found himself silently observing from a distance, still caught between the yearning for connection and the past wounds resurfacing. Though he longed to bridge the gap between himself and the warmth you and Tomas shared, he remained rooted in hesitation, unable to take the leap of faith. Thus, he stayed in the background, watching and wanting, but unable to dare to take action.

Taking a deep breath of the lavender-scented candle that you had left in the room, Kuai Liang tried to relax his body and quiet his mind. With each inhale, the calming scent enveloped him, easing the tension from his muscles and soothing his restless thoughts.

With another breath, he started to ascend into the waiting darkness, his body going lax, mind numbing. Everything smelled of lavender, mingled with the faint scent of you.

“Stand here, Tomas. And you, Bi-Han. Kuai Liang, come forward,” Leilani’s voice rang out within the hall as she positioned them in front of the gathered guests. Tomas stood with a stoic resolve, Bi-Han’s gaze betrayed a mix of defiance and resignation, while his eyes held a glimmer of suppressed rage. Leilani, draped in luxurious attire, circled them like a queen inspecting her subjects.

“Don’t let the youngest brother’s appearance fool you; Tomas is well-behaved and knows exactly how to please his lovers, always eager to satisfy their desires. As for Bi-Han, the eldest, he relishes in taking the dominant role in bed, but he’s also open to relinquishing control when desired. And then there’s Kuai Liang, the middle brother,” Leilani declared with a coy smile. She moved closer to him, her warm breath tickling his neck as she nibbled on his earlobe.

“He’s the feisty one, capable of enduring for hours thanks to his incredible stamina. If you’re looking to extend your pleasure beyond a couple of rounds, he’s my favorite in that regard,” she murmured seductively. Leilani’s words dripped with temptation, accentuating their prowess in the bedroom as she enticed her guests. The guests murmured amongst themselves, their eyes darting between Leilani and them. Tomas clenched his jaw in silent fury, Bi-Han’s fists tightened at his sides, he remained outwardly stoic, though inwardly he seethed with anger and humiliation.

As Leilani’s hand trailed down his chest, he fought back a grimace, his skin recoiling at her touch. Silently, he masked the turmoil within, but beneath the surface, a fierce determination smoldered—to break free from the chains that bound him to this life of servitude and degradation.

Kuai Liang woke up with a gasp when he heard someone call his name in the distance, feeling a rough wetness on his cheek. As he registered Ninja’s hot breath on his face, he struggled to comprehend the situation. How had he not noticed the kitten climb onto his lap? Ninja meowed, rubbing her little head against his chin, and with her purrs, she nestled herself in the area between his chin and neck, settling down to rest.

‘’Kuai Liang?’’

Hearing your voice nearby, Kuai Liang was careful not to disturb the kitten’s comfort, turning his head slightly to the side and looking at you. Thanks to the city lights outside, he could easily pick out your facial contours. You were on your knees so that you could see him more comfortably, your expression was worried, your eyebrows furrowed as you carefully examined him, wearing an old plush dressing gown.

‘’Are you all right?’’

‘’Have you been watching me?’’ Kuai Liang’s voice sounded so muffled that it seemed foreign and incomprehensible even to his own ears.

‘’No, actually, I came to drink some water. I heard you mumbling, thought you were having a nightmare. That’s why I wanted to wake you up.’’

Before Kuai Liang straightened up, he took Ninja on his lap and leaned his back against the armrest of the couch. He carefully stroked the kitten’s soft head, drawing a deep breath into his lungs. Her body was almost the size of his hand, so small that Kuai Liang was afraid of accidentally hurting the kitten. However, for Ninja, it didn’t seem to matter how big he was; she surrendered herself completely to his touch, content. Her happy purrs filled the silence.

Kuai Liang had never thought that he could be grateful for the existence of a kitten before, but right now, he was more grateful than ever for being distracted. It had alienated him from the imaginary hands and touches that were wandering on his skin.

“Yes,” Kuai Liang said after a while. ‘’I was having nightmares about my past.’’

Upon his answer, you sat down in the single seat opposite him and asked in a polite, even voice that showed you were a little afraid to express it.

‘’Do you want to talk about it?’’

Kuai Liang wanted to dismiss the matter by saying no at first, but then, Tomas’ words echoed in his mind and stopped him.

’I know you don’t trust her, but trust me.’

Kuai Liang thought that he was smart enough not to make the same mistake a second time. Until this moment. Something inside him, a feeling, an impulse, or whatever it was, whispered that he could trust you. Even though it seemed stupid, Kuai Liang wanted to try it. Maybe he hadn’t fully recovered from his nightmare yet, maybe he was aware of everything, contrary to the fact that he was fooling himself, and he still wanted to do it. Regardless of the reason, they all came to the same conclusion in the end.

‘’Her name was Leilani. She was the sixteenth owner of the book.’’

Kuai Liang spoke in a tone of voice that only you could hear. He could imagine the reactions his brothers would have if they heard him mention Leilani, and he didn’t feel healthy and in control enough to deal with them right now. His emotions and thoughts were everywhere; the thing that held him together was the tiny kitten on his lap and your presence, keeping him calm.

“Leilani was a sorceress who lived in the Outworld lands, not particularly powerful but was well known and had important connections throughout Outworld. The book had reached her through a merchant.’’ Kuai Liang said, despite his body convulsing with tension as he resurfaced those memories, he continued. When he mentioned that she had an approach that set her apart from other masters, that she might even find a solution to this curse like you, he watched your expression clash with a mix of surprise and resentment. From what he gathered from your reaction, Tomas had briefed you on what happened.

Despite the tension coursing through his body, the words flowed easily from his lips, one by one. When he reached the part about how Leilani won their trust, you remained as still as a statue. Leilani had always been kind and overly generous to them, until she revealed her true colors. She indulged their desires, bought them separate gifts, and made sure they were satisfied. It wasn’t difficult for them to believe her, as it was the first time someone had approached them like this since they were sealed inside the book. However, from that moment on, Leilani underwent a complete transformation. Now that she knew she had their trust, she began to play a different game with them.

No master had ever bothered to toy with their hopes before; typically, it was just orders and dark desires to be fulfilled. But for Leilani, playing with their hopes was more enjoyable than giving orders. She claimed to have found a way to save them from the curse, starting with seemingly harmless requests. At first, neither he nor his brothers were bothered by these small tasks. However, as the requests began to erode their pride, they realized the truth: Leilani was playing with them like a cat with a mouse. There was no freedom, no guarantee that her promises would be fulfilled—it was all just part of her game.

Especially when parties were held, it was the time that Leilani enjoyed the most. She liked to humiliate them in front of everyone, to highlight their weaknesses, which she knew very well, to announce that they were the deadliest assassins of a noble clan before, but now they were love slaves, to see them used as objects.

‘I know Tomas doesn’t like the dark; you wouldn’t want me to lock your brother in a room with no light for a week, would you?’

‘I discovered by chance last week that Bi-Han has a lot of sensitivity to my absence. You don’t want me to test how much longer he can stand it, do you Kuai Liang? Be a good slave and follow my orders.’

‘So the famous assassins of Lin Kuei… to come to this point now must be quite crushing your pride. You are nothing more than an object waiting to be used for my desires and nothing more.’

‘Remember who holds the power here, who controls your fate.’

As Leilani’s laughter rang in his mind, at one point when he ran out of words and had nothing more to tell, a silence fell over the room. Kuai Liang was surprised that he had told so much; obviously, he had not expected himself to perform like this. While he was trying to digest that, you suddenly filled his vision and hugged him tightly without crushing Ninja. Kuai Liang remained motionless, his body stiffening as his muscles reflexively contracted. But when he felt hot tears on his shoulder, his whole system was turned upside down.

‘‘Are you crying?’’ He said in an incredulous voice.

‘‘Yes, I- oh my, I’m sorry. Just give me a second, please.’’ When you just stood there without taking your head out of your hiding place, Kuai Liang remained motionless. He could have easily got out of your grip if he wanted, but your touch relaxed him in a way he hadn’t expected and made him feel… good. Your hug was sincere, caring, and full of emotion. His arms moved before his brain, hugging you in the same way; he gently pressed your body to his, feeling your soft and tender touch against his own hard-contoured body. Kuai Liang involuntarily inhaled the clean scent rising from your skin that touched his nose and felt his body relax a little more with the air filling his lungs.

At that exact moment, Ninja squealed because she was stuck between you, and when you both startled and recoiled, the kitten jumped straight from his lap to the ground.

‘’I’m sorry, my friend,’’ said Kuai Liang, apologetically trying to stroke the kitten’s head. ‘’I forgot for a moment that you were there.’’

Fortunately, Ninja seemed to have accepted his apology, allowing her head to be stroked. Then, as she caught the tassels of the carpet on the floor and jumped on them, Kuai Liang’s gaze was fixed on you.

Tears were still flowing softly from your eyes, your expression was so sad that Kuai Liang’s heart contracted with pain at the sight of you, the need to be able to put a smile on your face overwhelmed him. Taking your face between his palms, he asked in a gentle voice. Whenever he touched you, he felt a tingling sensation, like a harmless but enticing spark.

“Why are you crying?”

“I am so angry,” you replied, your voice carrying a mix of harshness and innocence. “I feel such a need to hurt someone for the second time.”

“Who’s the first?”

“Quan Chi,” you said in one breath, attempting to wipe away the tears. Kuai Liang stopped you, his calloused fingertips gently caressing your delicate skin. It felt natural, as if breathing. Even with Leilani, he had never felt such closeness. Was this what Tomas meant?

“Now I understand better why you don’t want to trust. How can a person trust again after all this? This is so cruel.” Kuai Liang felt his heart soften towards you, seeing the tears you shed for them. Neither Leilani nor anyone else felt sorry for them, shed tears, or got angry on their behalf in this way. Frankly, as of now, it didn’t even feel right to compare you to others. Kuai Liang reflected on the stark difference in your empathy and care compared to their previous experiences. “I will help you as much as I can, Kuai Liang. I told Tomas, but I want you to hear and know, too, that I will never lie to you like I have found a solution and play with your hopes. I don’t expect you to believe this, of course, but I want you to know.”

“Thank you,” Kuai Liang said sincerely. “It’s very rare for Tomas to trust someone other than us. I can see you’re good for him. It’s enough for me that you keep this up, he deserves to be happy more than enough.”

“You all deserve it,” you said with a slight reproach in your voice, but your gaze remained loving and sad. “I know how precious this is. I’ll keep it safe with me, and I promise to keep you all safe as well. I won’t let any harm come to you again. Although I haven’t been able to find a solution for the curse right now, at least I can offer you this safe space for now.”

Kuai Liang felt his heart melt completely, enveloped in a warmth so sweet and soft it felt like an embrace. His gaze shifted to your hand, where a scar marred the otherwise delicate skin of your palm. As he gently clasped your hand and cradled it in his own, his fingers traced the faint outline of the scar. He couldn’t still grasp the idea that you had hurt yourself for their sake. When his hand slipped to your wrist and he planted a tender kiss on the palm of your hand, he heard a broken breath escape you.

“You are a good person,” Kuai Liang said, the words coming out of his lips as if he was reassuring himself. Although it was ridiculous that he had fallen into the same situation as Tomas now, despite advising caution, Kuai Liang felt his walls crumbling with every passing second. He was tired of constantly protecting himself, erecting barriers around his heart, and remaining on guard. Battling all his life had left him exhausted, and now, despite the fire within him, Kuai Liang longed for a moment of respite, a chance to calm his body and clear his confused mind. And the solution was only a few breaths away.

You didn’t employ fancy words like Leilani, nor did you shower them with flashy gifts or overwhelm them with compliments. You didn’t exude dominance or pose a silent threat with your presence. There were no orders or rules; in short, you were unlike any master or people they had encountered before. Your speech was naive, your presence harmless, and though your financial situation might not have been affluent, your heart was undeniably generous. You sought to make them as comfortable as possible, ensuring they were full and now even opening your doors to a kitten.

When his gaze shifted to the supposed kitten, he saw Ninja lying a little further away, on her back, her round stuffed belly in clear view. A chuckle escaped his lips at the sight.

“Cats can tell if a person has good intentions or not,” he said, backing up his earlier words. When your attention shifted to Ninja like his, your small genuine laugh filled the room.

“So Ninja played a part in you coming to this conclusion, did she?”

“I can’t deny that Tomas had an influence on this, though not as much as Ninja.” Kuai Liang admitted.

“Just them?” you asked, your expression a bit playful, but mostly covered with a timidity that showed you were still unsure of his reaction. Kuai Liang felt his heart tremble with the look of you.

Before answering, he gently touched your hair with one hand, his fingers moving between the tufts, appreciating the sensation of freedom from any constraints. The label of “slave” had been with him for so long that he had forgotten what it meant to behave like a normal person. As his hand moved from your hair to your soft cheek, you didn’t flinch away. Instead, when you leaned into his touch, just like a cat, Kuai Liang’s heart swelled with the burgeoning interest he was starting to feel towards you.

‘‘How is it possible that I can ignore your influence,’’ Kuai Liang said in a voice filled with awe. ‘‘You’re like a dream I never expected to come true.’’

With his words, your expression softened so much that while tears glistened in your eyes again, the most loving smile settled on your beautiful face that he had ever seen. Then, as if something dawned on you, you chuckled wetly, a sign that you were about to cry.

‘‘Tomas had predicted this would happen,’’ you said.

‘‘How so? Did you both plan this?’’

Against the pure curiosity in his voice, you let out another giggle. Then, as you shook your head from side to side, meaning no, you placed one hand on his cheek and gently stroked his skin with your thumb. In that moment, the question marks in Kuai Liang’s head became silent.

‘‘It’s just your brother knows you too well,’’ When the look on your flushed face and shy gaze landed on his lips, Kuai Liang felt his heart quicken and his body fill with anticipation. You asked with a feather soft voice, ‘‘May I kiss you?’’

Instead of answering, Kuai Liang inclined his head, finding your lips without hesitation. With a sigh, you welcomed him, lips parting in acceptance as he drew you closer, his other hand gently encircling your waist. The kiss was slow, unhurried, and tender, as if time stood still and belonged only to them. Your tenderness shook the walls around Kuai Liang even more deeply than before. It was as if you feared hurting him, a sensation he had never experienced, let alone kissed with such care. His heart pounded with a fierce rhythm, ignited by a wild protective instinct.

You were a unique presence, offering a glimpse of the man he once was, a rarity he had never encountered before. In return, Kuai Liang longed to learn every facet of you, to etch even the smallest details into his memory. ‘This must be what they call addiction,’ he thought. This was the only way he could best describe the effect you had on him.

As your body touched his, your fingers gently entwining between his long black hair, and your eyes closed in trust, Kuai Liang found himself experiencing a feeling he had never tasted before. It was more than an instant sensation; it hit him like a slap and shook his very existence. It felt like completion. You were filling a part of himself that he didn’t even know was missing. You were the hope he dared not embrace, the goodness that remained pure in a world of ugliness. Being able to touch you was a lifeline, anchoring him to reality and reminding him that this was really happening, that you were here, on his lap, between his arms.

When Kuai Liang kissed you with a deeper, awakening passion, you didn’t resist. Instead, you put your arms around his neck, your grip soft and yielding, showing once again that you left the choice to him rather than demanding more. You were simply there, touching him, and it was clear from everything that you were content with just that.

He wanted to laugh at Tomas for knowing him better than he knew himself, but a strange lump formed in his throat, making it difficult to swallow. Part of him felt tainted by the countless bodies he had touched, as if no matter how much he scrubbed his skin clean, he could never rid himself of the imaginary hands that had touched, grasped, clawed, and caressed him. Lips that kissed and bit him, leaving their forever mark. Thus, he felt as though he had stained you by touching you. But the selfish, hungry part of him, which brought to the surface all the forgotten feelings, was more dominant; he wanted you. And because he had chosen to open his heart for the first time, he wanted to believe that you would keep it safe, as you promised.

Perhaps this time, there was no need for him to protect his heart behind its walls.

[faggot-greg-house]

house is autistic i will accept no criticism

i have so many thoughts about house and autism. this might be the most unhinged post on my tumblr yet but here we go so house had the illusion of normalcy forced on him from a young age. i dont think thats like, full canon, but house talks about how his father abused him on more than one occassion and talked about how he was never satisfied or happy with house no matter what. so i truly dont think its a far reach to say that he would not have tolerated a "weird child." the thing that i think, though, is that all of his actions are a response to the fact that he's not particularly great at masking. he's afraid if he lets people close to him he won't be able to hide the fact that he's "weird" (aka bad). he intentionally pushes people away with his weird creepy comments and being an asshole and that's both him masking (if he's aggressively mean all the time no one will bother to look further) and a way of coping with the fact that he cant mask. the more he pushes people away the less likely it is that they'll see that he cares about things and that he's not "normal" like he's always been told. i also think that as the show went on, he got less and less concerned about masking. he constantly stims, he hyperfocuses and burns out, he panics about change, he treats his fellows a lot more like family. once he got to a point in his life where his "weirdness" is not something he can be ruined for (he's tenured and he has people who will fight for him) he found himself a lot more able to be aggressively autistic, even if he struggles with it due to trauma.

a huge Autism Moment in the show for me is when foreman quits and house fires chase. house has been afraid his whole life of showing who he actually is, as mentioned. his fellows, though, are his People, they knew all of his shit and they never ran awayy from it. they didnt question who he was and what he knew, only his methods, and they were willing to fight back against him (something he's shown he loves). but then foreman quits because he "doesnt want to be like house" and this is house's worst nightmare. this is exactly why he had normalcy beaten into him, because being weird only makes it that people will run away once they know you. he dared to let people see a bit of who he actually is and how he thinks and acts and foreman essentially said "i cant stand to be like you." on top of that fear, his team became Different. he doesnt know if chase or cameron thought the same things as foreman, if they were also judging him or hating him for being autistic. it sent him into fucking panic mode because how is he supposed to trust them when he doesnt know if they agree with foreman!!!!! and even if he could, the team is Different and its for a reason he cant control and he cant just go back to normal. his method of interviewing his new fellows also shows this - how is he supposed to be able to tell if someone will be okay with who he is and if they'll work well together based off a short intervew where he's almost certainly masking the whole time???? anyway. to end this absolutely unhinged post ive put together an inconclusive list of autistic traits and actions from house, and i want to say that so much of this is him being written off as an antisocial eccentric genius and, while he is an ass that cant be debated, it clearly runs deeper than that!!!!

he doesnt understand how ppl feel (he repeatedly talks about how small talk is like a guessing game for him and he doesnt know what to say)

he doesnt like to be touched (for a lot of the show people just do Not touch him, wilson excluded)

he stims constantly and he needs Sensations

he's blunt, rude, somewhat monotone, etc

he has a hard time making friends

he has a hard time saying what he feels (he'd rather joke or be mean than analyse his emotions)

he has a routine that he Sticks To (even thgh its not exactly the same because of patients etc, he goes to work late, he talks to the same people, he sits in his same office. he's shown coming to work sick at one point and he doesnt rly go on vacation. plus when cuddy took his bloodstained carpet it was such a fundamental change to his life that he couldnt deal)

he notices Everything (yes ik this is a sherlock holmes thing but consider sherlock holmes - also autistic)

he has a method and train of thought that works for him and he is unwilling to break from it (he's shown at least once stopping the fellows from writing on his whiteboard, and after he loses the og three he continues trying to hold ddx's because its how he Thinks)

[frigidwife]

do you think louis chose/believed armand over claudia in the scene after armand threatens and chokes her? i was under the impression that louis reflexively disagreed with claudia because he didn't want to believe it, but the fact that he also reflexively lit armand's photo on fire makes me think his response to claudia ("he wouldn't do that"/"sit in your choice") was a denial of the real horror he was feeling, that he did believe her and just wished it wasn't true. i rewatched that scene and when he notices the picture is on fire, he waits a second before putting it out, which makes me think his commitment to armand following this scene wasn't out of genuine love, but a strategic choice made out of fear, the same way he martyred himself for lestat to turn claudia. i still see people talking about how much louis and armand did love each other, and i was briefly convinced when madeline called it out (though that scene also contains claudia thanking armand for not treating her like a child, so the legitimacy of the entire scene is thrown into question imo). but after rewatching the season, i don't think they were that devoted to each other. between the actors deliberately playing their flirtations super awkward, the fact that louis never commits until armand threatens claudia and his commitment itself following louis' pattern of chaining himself to his current lover/shark for claudia's survival (a pattern the show goes out of its way to emphasize with lestat's retelling of her turning), and the fact that armand apparently did choose the coven over louis...idk. maybe i'm biased and just sick of the idea that armand and louis' love is some torrid gothic romance when it seems clear that louis and armand's insistence that it was in dubai is deliberately at odds with what we saw, despite how hard they were trying to make it seem that way. even the way they gassed up their first meeting felt staged, and if we're supposed to understand that louis and armand's growing physical distance in dubai denotes emotional/romantic distance as louis' memories are restored, it seems in line to realize that the distance isn't what's new, nor is the performance of love; it's the realization that it is a performance. SORRY this got long, i feel like i'm going a little crazy because i feel the show is saying the exact opposite to much of the analysis on here. in a way i would love to be convinced towards a different perspective because then i could just relax

no i agree with you completely ur not insane and neither am i.... i havent watched that episode in a while but the way the events are sequenced it's not even ambiguous--the relationship with armand is strategic and it has been since the beginning. like i dont think louis's "he wouldn't do that" is even a denial of the kind of person armand is. Bc in the previous episode armand literally almost killed louis for the same secret he's just threatened claudia about. so why would he actually disbelieve her? (laying it out like this i'm realizing why the victim blaming interpretation of louis as ditzy is so prevalent lol.) his frustration reads to me like: i've already sacrificed my freedom and happiness so you can join the coven that you love so much, and now you're saying you don't like the coven? you can't tough it out and trust i have armand handled? the disbelief in "he wouldn't do that" is not that louis wants to believe armand is a better person; it's that louis wants to believe his control over armand is more complete, bc otherwise claudia is right and his sacrifices are doubly pointless. this is the same pattern we saw with louis and his siblings as a human--telling grace to worry about herself, telling lestat how they were four months from bankruptcy; he takes pains to keep them ignorant but then is frustrated they wont register his sacrifice; they see it as him pushing them away (literal knife to paul's throat). louis starting to burn the photograph is him giving up--claudia is ungrateful; this task is impossible. but then the dream lestat which is ofc just louis calls claudia "our daughter" and that's when louis stops burning the photograph of armand. at the reminder that no matter how he tries to accept her as grown and autonomous, she's his child first. and then you can see him double down and regroup--get rid of ghost lestat indulgence to commit fully to companionship with as much control as he can leverage

[not-equippedforthis]

really love characters who have varied panic responses. kirk stating himself that he does not panic outright, externally, not in high-stress dangerous situations, but instead becomes tense and level like a wound string, on-guard: mostly because his role as captain necessitates that he maintain level rationality even when facing potential death as his training as 'the guy who tells you what to do when shit hits the fan' requires, but also because his childhood experiences taught him early that drowning in the desperate haziness of panic won't help you survive. especially as kirk already follows his intuition so deeply. he learned to grasp and contort the feeling. spock is the main person who represses his emotions, of course, but kirk does it to those deep-set, personal ones (this includes how he doesn't reveal anything truly personal about himself willingly 90% of the time, only what others already know/shallow anecdotes) in a much more subtle way that's really interesting to me. certified expert at avoiding the subject as long as he isnt caught out on the lie. professional bluffer.

in terms of past or parents we dont know much!!! hes known as the heart-on-his-sleeve guy!!! like yes he yells, he gets irritated, excited, hes a whirlwind of quick-thinking and plans and intuition, he goes out of his way to connect with his crew and shows it, when he puts on a little act or bluff he puts his heart into it and clearly enjoys the dramatics so much, at times he wears his heart on his sleeve, he laughs openly and is honest to spock about what he means to him, he's very sun-coded to me in a burning, passionate way, always intertwined with the stars and seeking them out, but when it comes to genuine deep-set turmoil? we dont actually know all that much about him??? hes so full of emotion and character (i love fics where spock characterises jim's mind/bond as a whirl of colour and sensations, hes a quick thinker!!! intuitive!! lively!!!) and yet its still so outwardly surface level. tarsus iv gets mentioned like twice? so especially here where kirk gets briefly jumpscared by the creature, because like:

its subtle but his eyes. his eyesss!!!!! kirk commands with his emotions but there's always some sort of level of control to it, or he transforms them into something that spurs on others or uses them to ascertain a goal: seeing unguarded fear/distress in his eyes even if its faint and brief (in this instance) makes me go insane every single time. like!!! its such a small moment!!! he isnt even panicking!!! really, he just got jumpscared!!! its insignificant!!!!!!! but seeing a two-second flash of actual, naked apprehension is just...oughhh,,,,,,,,,

oh god, and dont even get me started on the galileo seven episode where he assumes a tense level-headedness throughout the whole thing, irritated and apprehensive but not panicking, making sure he maintains intelligent rationality, even when he has to leave them behind, but when spock and the crew are confirmed safe and the bridge is occupied the camera pans to him and his eyes look like they're fucking watering and he's so achingly relieved. don't even talk to me. im. fuck.

he shows so so much but at the same time reveals so little.

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

EWAN MITCHELL INTERVIEWED FOR NERDIST MAGAZINE.

IN SEASON TWO OF HOUSE OF THE DRAGON, AEMOND BLAZES HIS PATH TO POWER, AND HE'S READY TO START A WAR. WHAT DO YOU BELIEVE IS HIS OVERALL MOTIVATION FOR HIS ACTIONS? IS HE JUST SEEKING BLOODSHED, OR DOES HE WANT SOMETHING ELSE?

"That’s a good question."

"I think it could be a multitude of things."

"I think that’s the beauty of Aemond’s ambiguity."

"You don’t necessarily know what he’s thinking or where his true motivations and allegiances lie, but you definitely know that he is thinking."

"There is this calculative quality behind his eye."

"What his motivations are, I don’t know if I want to spoil it too much, but it’s a few things."

"I think he loves his mum [Alicent]."

"He wants his mum."

I’m going to quote Spider-Man… “with great power comes great responsibility.”

"He has the largest, baddest, oldest dragon in the known world."

"He has to be seen as someone who can wield that effectively."

"And so I think it could be a multitude of things, and I think there’s certainly a fear in the unknown there as well."

"What do you think are his motivations?"

I FEEL LIKE IT'S A SPLIT. SOME OF IT MAY JUST BE, 'I WANT TO GO INTO WAR, AND I WANT BLOODSHED. I WANT TO BE ABLE TO PROVE THAT I AM A MAN AND I FIT INTO THIS TYPICAL BOUND OF MASCULINITY.' BUT THEN I ALSO THINK THAT SOME OF IT IS A BIT OF WANTING TO BE SEEN AND BE HEARD. AEMOND IS NOT THE FIRSTBORN NOR THE ONLY DAUGHTER ON 'HOUSE OF THE DRAGON,' AND SO MAYBE IT'S WANTING TO PROVE YOUR WORTH AND SHOW THAT YOU ACTUALLY MATTER. AEMOND JUST WANTS SOMEONE TO SEE HIM.

"Yeah."

"One thing that I’ve touched upon before is the idea that kids need that unconditional love to develop a balanced view of themselves."

"If a child isn’t embraced by the village, they’ll burn it down to feel its warmth."

"And so Aemond, like you said, he’s going to find that validation through other means, that attention through other ways, and he might just do that through war."

THAT IS THE DIRECTION HE'S HEADING! ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT CONVERSATIONS IN THE HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON TWO FINALE IS WHEN AEMOND IS SPEAKING WITH HELAENA AND TRYING TO CONVINCE HER TO TAKE DREAMFYRE INTO WAR. IS HE ASKING HER TO DO THIS PURELY OUT OF DESPERATION TO BEST HIS OPPONENT, OR IS IT MORE OF A STRANGE ATTEMPT TO PROTECT THE FAMILY AND THEIR LIVES?

"I think it’s a little bit of both."

"It’s a fight for self-preservation."

It’s basically, “Look, it’s either going to be them, or it’s going to be us, so it might as well be them… we’re out-dragoned seven to three. If we don’t bind together and take Harrenhal, take out Daemon, and destroy all of the influence that he has in the Riverlands, we’re going to be on a serious back foot.”

"And like you touched upon, the idea of desperation; he is desperate at that moment."

"He’s been made a fool in Rhaenyra raising new dragonseeds, and he had to make a U-turn and fly back to King’s Landing, and he definitely has to feel like he has to overcompensate."

RIGHT. IT'S INTERESTING THAT AEMOND STILL WANTS TO CHART THIS COURSE ON HOUSE OF THE DRAGON, ESPECIALLY AFTER HELAENA TELLS HIM ABOUT THE VISION OF HIM DYING IN BATTLE. WILL HE TAKE THAT OMEN SERIOUSLY OR DOES HE STILL THINK THAT HE'S THE MASTER OF HIS OWN FATE?

"He always thought that he was the master of his own fate, but this new knowledge very much challenges that."

"I think Aemond will believe that information."

"He just doesn’t want to… [the show] planted seeds earlier in season two, episode six, after he’s made Prince Regent."

He is looking up at the Iron Throne, and he yearns for it, and Helaena appears behind him and says, “Was it really worth the price?”

"It gives the impression that she’s always been ahead of the curve and always known the secrets that happened all around in the skies above Rook’s Rest."

"He knew that his sister possessed this foresight."

"And maybe if you were able to, in some way, shape, or form, harness that power, that might be actually incredibly invaluable for the Greens to possess that foresight to know when a blow’s going to come before it lands."

"It would be invaluable."

IT IS A POWERFUL ASSET TO HAVE ON YOUR SIDE! DO YOU THINK THAT AEMOND ACTUALLY HAS THE CAPACITY TO BE A GOOD RULER AND MAYBE REDEEM HIMSELF OF HIS TRANSGRESSIONS ON HOUSE OF THE DRAGON?

"Do I think he’d be a good ruler?"

"No. No, I don’t think he would."

I'M STILL ROOTING FOR HIM BECAUSE I AM AN AEMOND-APOLOGIST.

"[Laughs] … For the majority of season two, he’s so composed."

"Whilst all the members of the council table are raising their voices and arguing, Aemond’s always been the kid who sits back and waits for his moment."

"There is a very cold, calculative quality to him."

"But as soon as he sits in the King’s chair, he starts to chuck people out of the council, and it’s very interesting…"

"You never say never, but at the moment, he seems pretty bad."

"Atrocious."

HE'S TRYING HIS BEST! ON HOUSE OF THE DRAGON, AEMOND OFTEN TALKS TO OTHER CHARACTERS ABOUT SACRIFICING FOR THE THRONE IN ORDER TO BEST RHAENYRA. OUT OF ALL THE SACRIFICES HE'S ALREADY MADE, IS THERE A SACRIFICE YET TO COME THAT WOULD ACTUALLY BREAK HIS HEART? PERHAPS LOSING VHAGAR?

"Losing Vhagar would be…"

"Oh, my God, I’d be heartbroken! I would be heartbroken as Ewan because I want to see Vhagar on screen as much as possible."

"Vhagar was very much his first friend."

"He was the first friend that he ever made and the first being that recognized Aemond and actually showed him some sort of attention."

"She saw something in him that maybe he didn’t even see in himself."

"If he lost Vhagar, he’d be heartbroken. Aemond and Vhagar, they’re a power couple."

"They’re soul-bonded."

"I think if Aemond has a breaking point, he definitely hasn’t found it yet."

VHAGAR IS THE BREAKING POINT FOR NOW, I THINK. YOU KNOW, YOU HAVE QUITE THE FAN CLUB NOW. THERE A LOT OF PEOPLE WHO DIG AEMOND! I CALL HIM A ROYAL PIRATE ON A DRAGON BECAUSE HE'S GOT THE EYEPATCH. HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THIS INFLUX OF ATTENTION AROUND AEMOND, AND WHAT HAS YOUR EXPERIENCE BEEN WITH THE HOUSE OF THE DRAGON FANDOM SO FAR?

"Well, I’m not on social media, so I receive a lot of beautifully articulated fan letters that are often badass as well, and I never take it for granted."

"I use it all as motivation."

"It means the world to me, and it also means that in collaboration with Amanda Knight, the hair and makeup designer, and Caroline McCall, the costume designer, that our work has really paid off."

"It’s a testament to their hard work and talent."

"So I love it all."

"I read every single one of them, I swear to God."

[justporo]

A Scorching Letter

Brimsterton | A Staevstarion Regency AU

PREVIOUS PART | MASTERLIST | AO3

A/N: Yes hello, I know I haven't posted something I wrote in quite a while. Let's just say I've been busy, but mostly behind the scenes. This however I had written quite a while ago (end of June I think) and I need to get back into the saddle again with posting. So here we are, another trip into Regency AU with @velnna's beloved Staeve (thanks as always for letting me stick him in a costume) and Astarion. Picking off where we left off after the chaise longue incident.

Summary: With a lot mixed feelings after what almost happened between them, a scorching letter is written that reveals genuine truths and brilliant emotions. But the response might not have been what either of them had hoped for...

Pairing: Astarion/Staeve Wordcount: 5,1k Warnings: light implied nsfw

-----

Hands hastily tore open an envelope. On it, in elegant cursive handwriting that couldn’t be mistaken for anyone but Astarion’s, a name was written, boldly and with gold ink even: Staeve Brimstone.

Shivering fingers took several pages from the torn away paper and unfolded them. Immediately, it was visible that the letter had been written with a plethora of intense emotions: some parts seemed barely readable as if the pen had scarcely made its way across the paper in hesitancy. Others were quite obviously written with such vigour, that the sheets were almost torn and stained with blots of ink from a pen that had been pressed too harshly and hastily onto the paper - way too eager to get out the words.

The hands holding onto the letter kept trembling as the letter was studied. It read:

“My dearly beloved Staeve,

It seems we’ve gotten ourselves in quite the compromising position, haven’t we?Apparently, we do have a knack for this kind of thing, don’t you agree? It is nothing new for either of us, truly. How often have we gotten in trouble for something over the years? Quite frankly it might be a big part of the reason why my parents will finally be sending me off to the continent. I figure they fear what two - now grown - young men could get themselves into. And wouldn’t they be right?

A million times have we conspired together. A million plans. A million times it was us against the world. Together.

To our own surprise we haven’t always been discovered. But then again too often than we would have hoped. And yet we have always gotten out of a cornered situation.

This time it is different though.

I take it your sister hasn’t taken notice of what has happened that night. Or it might be that she doesn’t care - I was never able to read her well. And I do not dare to push her on the matter.

What could have happened had we been discovered in that moment? Truly discovered?

But to be quite frank that isn’t what I am concerned with. Not if I am being honest with myself.

You know I am a man of few regrets, Staeve. But I do regret having left like I did that fateful night. My mind kept whispering malicious things to me while my chest was burning, set ablaze by you and your lips. My heart was prepared to scream it all from the rooftops. But yet my anxious mind had me flee like lest we be found out.

But yet my heart keeps burning, the flames impossible to smother. I promise you I’ve tried. Only to find them flickering higher, brighter, hotter, whenever I tried.

And it has been hard to calm it for even just a moment since that fateful night on that chaise longue.

In the end, it has won over my mind even quicker than I thought as I still feel my chest burn with every single beat of my yearning heart. This is what my mind has been toiling with. This and the enticing idea of what would have happened had we not been disturbed, this impossible game of “what if”.

Would we have lost ourselves within each other, unravelled by our hands and touches. Would we have been void of words with only our bodies to speak the yet unspoken? Would we have gone all the way into oblivion together torn and then reformed together. And all to only be unravelled again and again until there had been nothing left but strings?

Strings we might have been able to have knitted into something new, something thoroughly intertwined?

Only the heavens may know.”

The words at the end of this page were thin; anxiously so. The author’s worries and fears clear already by how the words seemed to trail off at the bottom. In hopes perhaps, that they could just be shaken off the page lest they fall on deaf ears.

The next fresh page though started with bold writing again, even bolder than before. The written words proud, tall and unashamed:

“But I do know this: at night I lay unable to sleep with that blistering desire inside of me, slowly scorching me from the inside out. And when the heat becomes near unbearable, I lay there with nothing but the moon as a witness, touching myself while imagining - hoping - it was you. My hands wandering down over my own body and finding pleasure so easily and quickly - so intense - as they stroke and caress. Simply because it is you in my mind. The thought of you nearly enough to lose myself time and again.

I know I am a sinner for this, for my thoughts and my actions. But could a sin truly feel this heavenly? If this is what hell feels like, I will let it take me, gladly. I would welcome doom with open arms for just my actions, but truly, I’d much rather be doomed together with you, Staeve.

The feeling of your mouth on mine has been imprinted on me. I cannot forget it. I will die with the memory of your soft lips on mine on my mind as the last breath leaves my earthly body.

You've touched me a thousand times - a hug, a tap, a taunt - but not like this. Never like this. Not with that enticing intention, not with that need: giving, pleasing but also taking -  possibly all of me. And if I’m being true and honest to myself: I would give you all of myself - body, mind and soul. You may take it all!

Do you feel the same? Because even writing this letter I feel how restless my fingers are, how they itch to touch you again as well, how they need to feel you again: your lithe body, the skin of your face, your silken hair.

I just want to feel the warmth of you again, enveloping me, your body moving against mine as we fall together, endlessly.

And when your hands know me by heart, I want to feel your mouth all over my skin, tasting me before swallowing my confessions to you directly from my very own lips and tongue.

I want you to know me as deeply as no one has before. I fear no one else could ever understand me like you do anyways. And I hope, dearly, this is what you want too. I surely know it’s what I want with you: knowing you inside and out, better than myself.

Back in that moment it surely felt like that.

But memories are fleeting, fickle little things. Already I am questioning if I really saw the same yearning in your eyes I keep feeling in my very soul. But then again, it's not like this only transpired yesterday, hasn't it? Hasn’t this all been brewing for what feels like an eternity?”

Up until this paragraph the writing had been bold, the elegant cursive letters leaning so far it was easily distinguishable that they had been written without pause. Words that had  been too powerful to not let out.

But those next ones were more hesitant again. The pen had been pressed down to start many a time and then hastily taken off again, judging by how several blots and scratches of ink clouded the first letter of the next sentence.

But in the end even these words had found their way - either way:

“I reckon you know the feeling in the atmosphere before a thunderstorm approaches - when the tension is so dense it makes your hairs rise up. When the whole world seems to hold its breath, awaiting the inevitable.

Aren’t we just like that? Awaiting what deep down we have known for so long?

Aren’t we inevitable?

How long have we been like this? In that terrible limbo of potential and not yet made resolution?

Only for it to unload in but a blink of an eye, lightning hitting us both, scorching us through and through, down to our furthest depths - setting us brightly ablaze where light has never even reached before.

There is no way in which we could ever proceed, pretending as if we both haven’t been changed forever in this moment, changed at our innermost core - wouldn’t you agree?

At times I fear that all it would have taken was that one night. One night of scorching flames to then see the fire smothered. This - us - nothing but a quick intermezzo, a short crescendo that is quickly muffled and not to be heard again.

But whenever I think I’ve forgotten about this, about you, for a just moment, there it is again: the thought of you, impossible to get out of my head.

You are always there with me, Staeve, with every breath and every step.

You didn’t just light a candle inside of me, you started a wildfire.

And I welcome it - with all the heat, all the power, all the destruction it might bring but also the all encompassing warmth it might spend. I welcome it to be consumed by it!”

Before the final words of the letter there was generous space left. Quite obviously the author felt the need to let his final words take up room. The final conclusion to the letter read:

“I am in love with you, Staeve Brimstone.

I am in love with you - and looking back it feels like I have always been in love with you. From the moment I first laid eyes upon you up to the my last moments on this earth.

And even more than that: I need you. I fear I cannot live without you.

And even though it might be selfish - but we both know that I am -: I hope you need me too.

I hope to love you, Staeve, forevermore. And if I’m fortunate enough, that you will love me too.

Forever yours,

Astarion”

As eyes ran over the last page, the hands holding the letter had begun to tremble. They were gripping the paper so hard by now that knuckles showed white.

Then when the end had been reached they were shaking so much no word could have been made out anymore. The grip was crinkling up the paper now. Up until the pages were deliberately being crumpled angrily, pressed into a ball of paper, letters and emotions alike forced into an indiscernible mess.

With a few steps only, the way was made to the lit fireplace and the pages were given to the flames. The fire eagerly licked at the papers, ate it up until there was nothing left of the words and the long suppressed feelings they had finally expressed.

~~~

The Brimstone family had sat down for dinner. Or at least for their approximation of it. Viscount and Viscountess Brimstone were idly enjoying their dinner talking a bit of business, politics and gossip. Meanwhile, their son Staeve was more enticed by the workings of a small golden mechanical beetle his father had brought him as a souvenir from one of his business trips than by the meagre meal of roasted pork and vegetables he’d thrown onto his plate as more of an afterthought. The sleeves of his white linen shirt were rolled up to his elbows as he had discarded his doublet long ago to be able to move better and one of his suspenders threatened to give up on its job as it was dropping off his shoulder in his hunched over position. He had wholly reengineered what dinner time meant for him, much to the grievance of his parents. But dozens of tries to change first the boy’s and then the young man’s behaviour had failed. So at some point they had given up as long as he knew to behave when guests were over and was still honouring the family gathering times.

That usually meant that he was at least present during family dinner times, physically at least. But he’d only eat later, once it had all gotten cold. And then would sneak into the kitchen to grab seconds when he would have realised once more that tinkering around didn’t sate his bodily hunger. At least not enough.

His mother had long given up on trying to teach Staeve manners. When he had been a child she had been sure he would grow out of it. But once she had realised that his quirks had only been growing with him, she’d come to realise that it was for the best to just leave him be and hope for the best.

Only occasionally did she still try to enforce his older sister Nita as a role model to him. It never worked.

So, as Staeve was fumbling with his current project and his parents were lost in conversation, his sister Nita - void of any option to make dinner time pass any faster with her parents talking and her brother with his mind elsewhere - moved around some asparagus on her gold rimmed plate and wished she could’ve found an excuse to go eat with her younger siblings in the kitchen. Even they would have been a more ample entertainment discussing their playtime or perhaps their current tutor lessons.

That was until she thought of a way of hopefully grabbing Staeve’s attention for more than a fleeting moment.

“So, Staeve, have you found something to do yet, something to cope?”

Her brother’s tuft of green hair lifted shortly from where it had been bent over the small, intricately built beetle and some similarly delicate tool with which Staeve meant to dismantle the small object - thereby probably irreparably destroying it.

But the younger Brimstone shortly looked at his sister in irritation. Then his gaze snapped back to his hands and his workings and he began tinkering again.

“What?”

Nita rolled her eyes. “You know you are supposed to use full sentences, right?”

“Whoever has the time for that?”

“Ah see, he does speak in full sentences.”

Staeve grunted at his sister’s sarcasm but didn’t reward her with another glance.

Nita tried again.

“So have you?”

“I don’t think that was a full sentence.”

She was about ready to throw her fork at him, hoping it would drive the audacity right out of him - or at least take an eye. For a moment she debated just letting the silence draw out. But honestly she hadn’t been the one starting to be petty.

“You know, Staeve, I really get why even Astarion has decided to suddenly leave town when you’re being such a prick!” Nita almost shouted. That even had caught her parents’ attention now who immediately scolded her for her unladylike demeanour and choice of words.

She pouted, annoyed at how she had been the one being called out now instead of her brother.

And when she turned her head around again to throw him an angry glare she suddenly found she had finally caught his attention. Maybe even a bit too much of it because Staeve was now staring at her, eyes wide, face void of colour.

“What do you mean Astarion is leaving?”

Nita was about to snap at him again. But something in her brother’s gaze and his sudden stillness made her abandon the thought immediately.

“Didn’t- didn’t he tell you? I thought you always knew everything about each other.”

Immediately hurt flashed through Staeve’s teal eyes, too irritated to even try to hide it.

“Leaving when? Why?” Staeve’s voice was nothing more but a croak. A strand of hair had fallen into his eyes. He didn’t even bother pushing it out of his face.

Suddenly Nita felt unsure of what to do. Unsettled by her brother’s sudden burst of emotions. The only thing she came up with was snapping at him again.

“The Grand Tour, you idiot, what else.”

Staeve’s eyes widened even more. He set the small golden beetle and his tool down with a distinct thud, so hard, it even made their parents become silent and turn to their children in irritation.

“When?” Staeve simply followed up again. His words were terribly silent all of a sudden. Nita didn’t have it in her anymore to try and purposefully try and upset her brother. She threw a glance at the big mechanical clock - one of the few Staeve hadn’t disassembled yet: “I think right about now. They’re probably going to travel all through the night to catch a ship in the morning at one of the great harbours.”

Staeve didn’t wait for Nita to finish her sentence. He jumped up, almost making his chair fall over, staring at the clock. Their parents’ heads swivelled around trying to understand the cause of the commotion. But their son was already storming out of the room, not even sparing their scolding and quizzical looks another thought.

Immediately, Staeve made his way through the manor and down to the stables. As he rushed along servants, through a plethora of rooms and finally got outside, he realised that the weather was about to turn: an early summer evening threatening to bring a foreshadowing of yet far away autumn. The oncoming storm, announcing itself with distant thunder and dramatically darkening clouds, though, only felt like a fitting backdrop for what was brewing inside of him.

Questions filled Staeve’s mind as he made his way, and worries - and memories.

Every moment for the last couple of weeks since that fateful night had he basically been thinking about what happened. It only ever took him a split second to conjure up the scene again in his head: the last couple of breaths in which he had stared into Astarion’s eyes and how it had felt like he could see through them right to the bottom of his friend’s heart, the burning feeling of Astarion’s lips against his own and this desiring ache within him, physically and emotionally, threatening to rip him apart from the inside out.

He had been so sure Astarion had felt the same. And hadn’t his friend been the one looking up at him with such pleading in his crimson eyes, lips already parted in anticipation before they had met halfway?

But maybe Staeve was remembering it all wrong. He certainly must be. Why else would his lifelong companion leave him now unannounced?

Loads of feelings were forming up inside his chest, waiting to burst - like thunder after lightning had struck in the far off distance.

Staeve made his way to the stables to grab Freckle while his mind was somewhere completely else. He didn’t even stop to put a saddle or reins on her. A terrible premonition told him he hadn’t any time to waste. And the mare was used to being ridden like this, after all they were a well-practised team.

The young Brimstone led his horse outside and immediately felt raindrops seeping through his thin linen shirt and trousers. He couldn’t have cared less. Wasting no more time he jumped onto his mare’s back and with a click of his tongue and soft nudge from his boots they were off in a dash, cutting through the oncoming rain.

As Staeve thundered down the small trodden out road from the Brimstone estate towards the Ancuníns’ residence the rain turned from just a trickle to a pour - the kind that would turn grasslands into swamps for a good while after and dust roads into murky rivers. His mind was racing at an even more outrageous speed as the gigantic manor of his friend’s family came into view.

Lifting his head while holding onto Freckle’s mane as the horse felt his owner’s urgency and gave him her all, Staeve searched for the familiar sight of that one particular window with a light on inside, hoping it would betray his sister’s words. The one where Astarion often already had been peeking out of in wait for his companion to come by. The one where they had sat countless of times, talking, laughing, smoking some stolen cigars and choking on the burning smoke when they had been only boys.

But the lights were off.

And Staeve’s fears turned into all encompassing panic as he closed in on the giant building as he didn’t dare to let himself hope anymore. The rain around him had him fully drenched by now, his loose shirt clinging wetly to his body. Already he felt hot tears adding to the uncomfortably cold rain running down his face.

When he finally came around the manor, he found nothing but an ill-fated stable hand rushing through the downpour, perhaps tasked with a few last things before being allowed to flee the bad weather. Not even hesitating Staeve rode up right next to him making the poor boy shriek and stumble back from the horse making the gravel fly with a sliding stop.

“Astarion Ancunín?” he only managed to scream against the rain.

The boy just stared up at him, obviously too startled at the sight of Staeve like this. He probably looked like a madman. And he felt like one: not properly dressed, drenched to the bone on his equally aggregated steed. Even more so the more time he spent chasing down a man in this storm who so obviously tried to get away from him without him knowing.

But he needed to see him, at least a final time. One more try.

“The Duke’s son?” Staeve shouted again at the stable hand. And finally the boy seemed to have recovered from his stupor.

“Left. With his father the Duke, in the fancy carriage,” the answer came back, shouted against another thunder in the distance - the heart of the storm was coming closer.

Staeve’s chest clenched. Freckle became nervous beneath him. Even a well trained horse like her didn’t want to be out longer than needed in this weather. But just a moment more.

“When?” he screamed.

“Dunno exactly, couple of minutes, just when the storm started.”

Staeve needn’t hear more. Time was of the essence now. He spurred on his horse once more and left the befuddled boy behind who even forgot to finally rush inside and instead stared after Staeve racing off again.

The roads were already muddy, an endless amount of puddles strewn across them while Staeve made the decision to go for the hill overlooking the Ancunín lands, the one with the weeping willow. There he’d be able to see how far out they were already on the country road leading away from town.

But when he arrived at the foot of said hill and dashed on with Freckle, his horse slipped and almost took a tumble. And since his or his horse’s broken neck surely wouldn’t make him be any faster, Staeve slid off his mare’s back and continued on foot.

The rain kept pouring onto him as he rushed up the hill, his booted feet sinking into the wet ground. Several times he almost took a tumble when his boots sank in too deep. Illustrious curses that would have made his mother blush and his father scold him, left Staeve’s lips as he ran up the grassy hill as fast as possible, barely able to see anything anymore with the rain slashing his face. He didn’t even notice how the freezing cold crept into his body, his limbs, how his fingers began to become stiff. His whole body was shaking, as much from the cold and the wet, as from the feelings still burning inside his chest - the only thing still spending a bit of warmth.

Staeve reached the top of the hill and the weeping willow atop of it - honouring its name as rain kept dripping generously off its tendrils. Trying to wipe at least some of the rain out of his face and panting heavily from running, Staeve’s eyes flew along the road leading out of town, willing the carriage to be there, so he’d know he could still catch them. Or at least a glimpse, of him. To at least wave a last goodbye. Because he didn’t know when - if - his friend would ever return.

And he spotted the carriage. Right there, at the very end of what Staeve could make out. Just before it disappeared around a final turn of the road - and out of sight.

~~~

Inside the carriage Astarion was craning his neck only a little to see Ancunín manor slowly disappear behind the lazily sloping hills of the countryside as the wagon rattled along the road leading away from town. Now the ancient weeping willow was the last familiar landmark before the road would lead them along faceless fields and forests rushing past them, only there to be forgotten again in an instance. The storm was doing its part to make Astarion’s last impression of his home even more dull: clouds and the rain almost washing all of the colours out of this final sight.

This might very well have been the only time in his life when his heart actually ached at the thought of leaving home - or rather him.

Only a few weeks ago had he hoped to spend an incredible last summer with Staeve, his childhood friend. Especially as he had been sure of something new budding between them, something that could have meant them being more than companions possibly. Something that either might have been honestly terrified to explore. They could have gone down this road together.

But it seemed that instead of choosing this final adventure and what treasures and secrets might have been ahead, Staeve had chosen utter and complete silence. To his letter as much as his departure. Astarion had been unable to figure out what to make of it.

However, wasn’t the absence of an answer a response of its own?

Questions, regrets, fear and hurt were all swirling around inside of Astarion’s chest as he feigned indifference staring out the small window the rain kept drumming on. He was covering most of his face with his hand turned away from the other passenger in hopes it would make him look bored and hide his frown - and more than anything, the tears burning dangerously in the corners of his eyes.

Writing that letter, taking a leap of faith had taken nearly all of his courage.

When that kiss had happened after that invaded soiree, it had been easy. Fueled by the evening, laughter and lots of liquid courage it had been easy to fall into Staeve’s arms. It had been easy to be open about what had been building up inside of him for so long.

But writing this letter stone cold sober had been near impossible: opening up about everything that, all his life, he had been taught to keep hidden behind his orderly closed button border, tugged away behind a starched collar closed so firmly it made one choke. Admitting to desires that would make him a wretched sinner in the eyes of his family and society. And finally confessing his feelings to his lifelong friend, risking everything they’ve had. It had been taxing, hard, painful.

And in the end, apparently, he had paid the price.

In front of him, the Duke Ancunín kept talking about their travelling plans while Astarion could feel his heart get torn into pieces the further away from home they travelled. A piece of it begging to be allowed to stay.

“Son, it is a great honour that Monsignore Constantin will take you in for a few extra weeks as his disciple. He is very strict but he is the best,” the Duke repeated his words in a sharper tone when he noticed his son not paying attention. “He will make an upright man out of you, Astarion, I know it.”

“Oh, will he? I can barely wait,” Astarion replied with bitter sarcasm in his voice. His father, in response, was near boiling with anger at his son’s insolent behaviour.

“He has his methods, son, you will see. He will let none of your nonsense slip, I will make sure of it!” The Duke’s words cracked like a whip. But the young man didn’t care, his eyes were still trained on the outside, on the weeping willow becoming smaller in the distance. He didn’t honour his father’s wrath with another response.

The carriage filled with nothing but the sound of drumming rain and thunder rolling ever closer. When the older Ancunín apparently realised his anger would get him nowhere he tried a different route of grasping his son’s attention.

“Hasn’t the young Brimstone come to say his goodbyes to you, my son? Is that why you keep brooding?”

Astarion’s gaze snapped to his father, immediately betraying that he had spoken the truth. He felt how his brows drew together as pain flared up in his chest even more. Trying to get it back under control quickly he looked back outside the window as the carriage shook along the road in worsening conditions.

But his father had cracked right open what had been bothering him and finally Astarion gave up on trying to hide. What did it matter now anyways? The cards had been dealt.

The young Ancunín let his hands fall into his lap but kept looking outside as he felt how the tears in his eyes threatened to become overbearing.

“He hasn’t actually,” Astarion admitted. “In fact, I haven’t seen him in a few weeks. Not since I’ve sent him a letter a while ago,” he continued, voice flat and emotionless.

“A letter? How uncommon for the two of you,” the Duke threw in with a tinge of irony coating his words like bile. In a knee jerk reaction Astarion’s crimson gaze burned in anger at his father’s vile words. But in the end he wasn’t wrong. The young noble resorted to throwing a last glance upon the willow up on the hill.

“Come to think of it though, my son, I do remember seeing the letter,” the Duke rambled on. “And I remember handing it over to the butler so it may get delivered quickly.” Astarion turned away a little further once more from his father as he felt his composure threatening to break fully. “A difference of opinions maybe?,” his father finished.

Astarion didn’t see the slight tilt of the corners of his father’s mouth as he let the words roll off his tongue, not hiding his distaste for the young Brimstone.

The young Ancunín only could feel the final nail being put into the coffin with his father’s final words. His last string of hope he had been holding onto snapped in two just like that.

“Possibly,” Astarion simply replied, kneading his hands in his lap, emotions threatening to overwhelm him fully.

“Maybe even more than that,” he added after a while as he finally let his gaze fall from the last sight of his hometown.

Had he averted his eyes just a moment later he would have made out the figure of a dark-skinned, green-haired young man appearing beneath the weeping willow in the storm. But like this, thunder cracked as the carriage took a turn and Astarion’s home and his lifelong friend went out of sight.