#the high water mark of any anime

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

Roxy: mommy i wanna eat microalastics :D

Rose: Good news honey were in a first world country. It’s in everything.

[little-fae-hero]

Linked Universe, The Hero of Legend

My headcanons/aus

Art by Atro

Colored version.

Long talk/Ideas under the cut, warning for slightly dark topics. (Note: I may add stuff over time, but nothing will be deleted from the list)

Twilight. Wind. Time. Hyrule. Four. Sky. War. Wild.

Legend (A link to the past, Link’s awakening, oracle ages & seasons, A link between worlds). Other nicknames: The veteran, grumpy pants, Mr. Hero, Hylia’s bastard, Zelda’s Twin.

Hero’s title: Hero of the past, Hero of Koholint, Hero of the Oracles, Hero of Holodrum, Hero of Labrynna, Hero of Lorule.

God that has claim over his soul: Hylia

History:

The first adventure was a Link to the past, after defeating Ganon it was revealed to Link that he was not only Zelda’s twin but the biological child of Hylia, the golden goddess. Link didn’t want to believe it so he hopped on a ship and left, leading him to koholint. The wind fish picked Legend for his divine blood to help wake him.

Both saving the orcales came from Link not wanting to be home, however after the second one he was convinced bad stuff would happen where he went so he opted to go home and retire.

Later, hyrule was attacked leaving Link alone to rescue it. He also meets a mysterious merchant called Ravio who basically becomes his roommate. It’s revealed Ravio and his sister, Hilda are Link and Zelda counterparts with their mother being a goddess, the Lorule version of Hylia. The humans of that world wanted to get rid of their triforce, basically destroying and corrupting the gods that once protected them.

Link uses the triforce and wishes for their triforce back, saving Lorule. Originally they destroyed their ability to travel between worlds. However, both Link and Ravio wishing for the other plus their demigod blood allows Ravio to travel back to Hyrule. Link tried to avoid doing another big adventure after that, just helping people like you should before he ripped away to LU. 

Death: Unknown….

Interest stuff/Headcanons:

Being a demigod is stained on Legend’s body, mostly by his hair which will flow like water when magic is used or high emotions, or faint tattoos that cover his face and body.

All gods have those tattoos when posing as humans, hence why their children have them. However, most are so faint, only about a shade lighter than their skin tone that they are unnoticeable unless in the right light. But they glow when their natural magic is used.

Because of this, Legend refuses to use any of his natural magic, often relying on magical items and jewelry, playing himself off as a lucky adventurer.

He loves jewelry also because of how shiny it is.

The mermaid tail he can get was because of his mother, as one of her domains is water.

Because of the Mermaid tail thing, he can’t really wear pants sense there's a risk of them being destroyed if he hits water.

Legend despises being Hylia’s son and technically a prince, especially since most see male children of the royal family as a curse waiting to happen.

Legend really loved Koholint, he wasn’t a demigod, he didn’t have any weird powers or random quest. It was so bad that if it wasn’t for his mother’s blessing he likely would have drowned.

The only reason Legend woke the Windfish and broke the pocket realm that he came to love was because of Marin.

Koholint was a pocket realm, populated by people that was close enough to the Windfish resting place. Legend doesn’t know this and spent his next couple of adventures looking for Marin, as he physically had some items given to him by her.

Because of Marin he actually uses what little magic leaks out around him and grows the flowers she kept in her hair, always keeping one on him. 

You can follow Legend’s path with ease as the flowers mark where he has rested.

He can play any instrument you hand him.

Legend form in dark areas, a pink rabbit, because rabbits are one his mother animals. He despises this of course.

Legend normally is very untrusting after his first two adventures, however something about Ravio made the hero trust him.

Ravio looks exactly like him, same weird faint markings, same face, same body. It’s just the colors that are wrong.

Legend keeps everything from his adventures with the mentality of ‘I rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it.’

Because of his mother, Legend picks up on languages and puzzles very easily. It only takes him about a week in a new area before he can speak and read it.

Despite having the Triforce of Courage, Legend’s counterpart Ravio, actually has the Lorule Triforce of Wisdom.

All his adventures have him plagued by nightmares; Legend has to use a bit of magic to get a restful sleep.  

He’s good at finding maps and keys, as well as places to eat.

While it’s really hard to poison him, he can still taste the food. So could he eat rotten food, yes, will he? no.

Legend has joint pain, mainly from refusing to use his magic to heal wounds and waiting until he had potion or fairies, the time left its mark.

He has a soft spot for rabbits and seagulls. 

Legend is the one who gave Hyrule his first sword. After his death is spirit remained trying to save Hyrule, and ending up looking after the hero as a merchant.

---

Legend is done, let me know you thoughts.

[anomaly-hivemind]

Dive In ☆ Merman! Gojo x Scrientist! Reader | Kinktober Day 14

Summary: You were brought in to study a merman whom you heard was quite aggressive; however, he’s always been kind to you. You were able to get close. Maybe a bit too close.

Word Count: 3978

Tags: Merman!Gojo, afab!reader, vaginal penetration, scratch marks, porn with plot, cunnilingus, handjobs, experimental sex, mating, government facilities, the reader becomes a fugitive, mating rituals, creampie, breeding, transformations, wet dreams.

When you got a call from the federal government you didn’t know what to expect. You were honestly a bit worried that you had done something you weren’t supposed to and were going to be silenced. The last thing you expected to see however was a mermaid, or merman in this case.

You were a  NOAA scientist and had seen so many strange sea creatures, so the possibility of mermaids being out there wasn't out of the realm of possibility. However, you didn’t think that they would exist like this. The closest thing humanity has had to mermaids is manatees and dugongs. When thinking critically this is what most people assumed mermaids would look similarly to. That they would have rough skin and blubber and coarse hair or fur. However, this merman swimming before you looked like something right out of a fairy tale.

Based on the way it floated around his head, his hair looked to be the same texture as human hair. His whole upper half looked to be very human aside from the gills you could see on the sides of his neck, the fins on his arms, and the fin-like ears he had. 

“Ah Dr.L/N, Pleased to meet you,” An older man came up to you and extended his hand. He was in a fine pair of slacks and a pristine button-down with a black tie and white lab coat overtop. 

You took his hand and gave it a firm shake. He introduced himself as the lead researcher for this top-secret project and gave you the rundown. A fisherman from a small town in Kauai, Hawaii called in about a wild animal of some sort stealing fish. Eventually, another fisherman got a strange “Fishman” caught in his nets and called the Coast Guard, and from there, it became a bit more about coverup from the general public. The fisherman was compensated handsomely to keep hush and this merman was carted off to this government facility.

They began running tests and researching the merman however he attacked one of the researchers and they ended up losing an eye. So they had to pivot and decided to bring in someone with expertise in predatory marine life, that being you.

You looked back at the white-haired merman in the tank, he didn’t look aggressive, but you’d have to be an idiot to think that he wasn’t actually dangerous.

“I’ll let you take over as lead researcher, come on and I’ll introduce you to the team.” You followed after him and met the other researchers. It was a small group, most likely for the sake of confidentiality. They were kind but you didn’t want to waste any time chatting when you were eager to learn more about the merman.

The tank of the merman was that of a large shark, it was important to keep a new species as comfortable as possible to avoid any personal injuries. At the bottom it was made of the usually thick tempered glass of any high-grade aquarium, Is almost twenty feet deep of water, wide enough for the merman to swim freely without bumping into the walls, and filled to the brim with clean salt water filtering into the tank. 

A cage was newly added on top of the tank after the first incident to ensure the workers' safety. So the only way to get up close and personal was up the flight of stairs and through the locked door to stand on the built-in ledge over the water/tank opening. 

You walked back over to the tank where the merman swam around lethargically. You ripped off a paper from a nearby notepad and took the pen as you began writing basic facts about his appearance.

Long white hair, pale skin, silvery-blue scales covering the tail, and a few stray clusters of scales in the torso here and there, slightly forked caudal fin, fins are a translucent dark blue. About 12 ft long. You looked back up and were met with the merman in question staring back at you. His eyes were such a mesmerizing shade of blue, like the sky, or shining jewels. 

You wondered if it was an evolutionary trait to aid hunting. His webbed hands were pressed up against the glass with his sharp nails on display. 

Yeah, definitely dangerous. You thought, thinking back to the researcher who lost an eye.

One of the researchers called for you and when you turned back round the merman had swam to the back of the tank. You were looking forward to officially starting work.

----------------------- 

The first few days you spent observing the merman’s behaviors. It seemed like he could tell what fish had been the most recently caught because that’s what he prefers. 

You put in an order request for aquatic plants as you wanted to see if he was omnivorous however they hadn’t come in yet. Based on his behavior you would say that he’s just as curious about you as you are to him. He had never displayed aggressive behavior when you were around and he wasn’t exactly eating from your hand but you could hand the fish to him at feeding times instead of tossing it into the tank like the other researchers.

You were sitting by the tank, reviewing your notes and drawing diagrams of his outward physiology when you heard someone call your name.

“Hello?” You called out, looking up from your work, however no one was there.

“Y/N…” They called out again. You looked towards the tank and saw the merman peering over the edge, his hands were gripping the metal bars and he was looking at you curiously.

“Y/N,” He repeated…

“You can talk?!” The merman cocked his head before diving back into the tank. You raced to the top and peered over the edge. He swam back to the top and looked at you. 

“Y/N.” He can really talk.

“Yes, that’s my name, Y/N.” You said, gesturing to yourself.”Do you have a name?”

“Y/N,” he repeated once again. You sighed. Maybe he can only make parrot noises. It was impressive nonetheless.

“I am Y/N, you are…?”

“Sa..to..ru,” He said. “Satoru,” He said. His bright eyes stare back at you.

“Okay then, nice to meet you Satoru,” You smiled.

----------------------- 

Satoru picked up speaking fairly quickly, he wasn't fluent and often flubbed his sentences but he had a good grasp of language. With that addition, it became much easier to observe his personality and mannerisms. 

He had no concept of money but boy did he have expensive taste. Almost immediately after learning how to speak, he began voicing complaints and making requests. Apparently, the cod and red snapper he’s being fed aren’t good enough, and after much back and forth on what exactly he was talking about he requested bluefin tuna, Alaskan salmon, and swordfish. 

He was very playful, at least with you. He Loved to call your name… and to tell the other researchers to go away. Those were his favorite things to say.

You walked up the stairs with your lunch and lunch for Satoru, which was halibut today. 

“Hello, Y/N,” Satoru said, quickly swimming up to the surface and flashing you a sharp-tooth smile.

“Hello Satoru,” You tossed him the fish and he began eating eagerly. You applied sanitizer then wiped your hands with a wet wipe before opening your lunch to begin eating. 

“What’s that?” Satoru asked, looking back at you, he was somehow already done eating.

“This is nigiri sushi, it’s thinly sliced raw fish over rice. Wanna try some?” 

“Really?” He said, with wide eyes. You nodded, taking a piece of salmon nigiri and offering it to him. Instead of taking it, he ate it straight out of your hand in one bite. His cold lips tickled and he licked the stray grains of rice from your hand.

“So… what do you think?”

He was silent for a moment before smiling back at you. It made your heart flutter a bit but you pushed the feeling back.

“I Like it,”

“Here have some more,” you said, offering straight from the box this time.

When you went home and went to sleep that night you had a dream about Satoru, He was human. His white hair was short and fluffy, and he still had piercing blue eyes. You were lying on the beach together on the sand, and for some reason, he was kissing all over your legs, his plump lips softly made their way up your legs, and right as his face was inches away from your groin you woke up.

You woke up covered in sweat, your pajamas sticking to your skin as you stared up in the dark abyss. Your breath heaved… and it took a while before you could go back to sleep.

After that day, Satoru became even more attached to you and complained when you weren’t by his side. 

A while later the head researcher stopped by to see how things were going.

“So I hear you’ve gotten pretty close with the merman, even got him to talk,”

“Satoru, yes. He’s very interesting, he has two pairs of lungs one for the air and the other for the dissolved oxygen in the water and..” You proceeded to ramble on about what you’ve learned and his personality. “While he is a predator I haven’t been able to observe any real aggressive behavior, he’s always so sweet and curious when I’m around- oh I’m sorry I’m rambling,”

The head researcher laughed and waved his hand,” You’re all good, almost sounds like love to me.”

Your face grew hot and you laughed off what he said.”What can I say, I really love my work,”

“That’s amazing, you’ve been doing wonderful work here.” He said looking at all the data you’ve collected.

“I’m sensing a but…” You said, wringing your hands together nervously.

“I’ll get right to the point then, you don’t have any data on how or if they reproduce,”

Oh… right. You were certainly curious about it since you learned he could talk, you had been putting it off, it felt less like research and more like an invasion of his privacy.

“I’ll get on it, sir,” You nodded.

----------------------- 

You headed over to the tank with papers to talk with Satoru. As usual, when you walked up, Satoru swam right over with his usual smile.

“Hello Y/N,”

“Hello Satoru,” You said with a sigh.”So I had a few questions, but they’re a bit more personal.” You blushed thinking about it, you’d start off with the normal stuff first.

“Okay,”

“So are there others out there like you? Before you came here were you in a group?”

“A few. But I was not with a pod before being here.” He answered.

“Why weren’t you with your pod?”

“I was looking. Looking for a mate.” He said, his eyes meeting yours.

“Oh, is that what you all do? Split off to find a mate?” You asked.

“No, just me. A mate is an equal, in the pod I am the best. No equal, no mate. So I went off, to find another strong as me.”

“How long have you been looking for a mate?” Pausing from what you were writing.

He paused for a moment before answering.”Twenty-Eight moon cycles,”

That was about two years! Must get lonely, all by himself, separated from his pod, you thought. Maybe you could help him escape, you could convince them that it’s better to observe the group rather than one mercreature on its own (I mean you weren’t lying.)

“So if you could, I guess you would go home huh?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

“Only if you went.” You were surprised by that answer.

“Why me?”

“It’s bad to leave mates behind,” he answered. At first, you thought he was joking but you remembered you hadn’t explained the concept yet, he was completely serious.

“Satoru, what makes you think we’re mates?” You asked, your face growing a bit hot.

“You share your nigiri with me; only mates share food, or parents and pups.”

Oh…

Oh…

OH…

No wonder he was so surprised when you offered him the Nigiri, and why he’s been so clingy.

“I didn’t know, I’m sorry,”

“You don’t want to be my mate then?” He asked with a sad expression which made you feel like you were shot through the heart.

“It’s not exactly that, I’m not a mermaid, I can’t breathe underwater,”

“Mates can be human, you’ll change after the mate bond,”

“I’ll grow a tail?” you asked bewildered.

“No, gills, scales, fins, then tail”

“I’m not nearly as physically strong as you either,” You replied.

“No, but you know many things, knowing many things like fish, many things that will be good for the pod.”

While you were intrigued by the process it just seemed like too much. At least that’s what you tried to tell yourself.

“It’s me then, you don’t like me.”

“No, no, no I do like you, I love you, Satoru, but ah-” You stopped when you caught what you said.

“...Love? What’s what?”

“It’s when others feel strongly about each other, when they really really like eachother or something. Like families or friends or a pet… or a mate…” You said swallowing nervously.

“So you love me?” He asked, his body basically pressed up against the edge of the platform.

“...yes,”

“Do you love me like family?”

“... No,” you said, shaking your head.

“Like a pet?”

“No,”

“Then do you love me like a mate?” You looked back at him and as you looked into his eyes you knew the answer.

“Yes, Satoru, I love you, I’ll be your mate.” As you said those words he had the biggest grin on his face and dived back into the water, swiftly swimming in circles and flipping out of the water. You laughed, you had never seen him this happy before.

He swam back over to where you sat and leaned over your lap, water dripping onto your legs.

“How does mating work anyways?”

“It’s easier to show than to tell, but not here, in shallow water,” He explained.

“Okay, then I guess I definitely have to break you out of here then, It wouldn’t be right to leave my mate locked up in some secret government facility.”

You waited until dark when everyone had gone aside from security here and there before you began your heist. You got one of the big carts they wheeled around all the fish they fed Satoru in and filled it with water. Then there was the painstaking process of getting him out of the tank and down the stairs. You knew you couldn't carry him when he weighed well over eight hundred pounds so you had to guide him and make sure he didn’t hurt himself as he flopped down the metal stairs.

Then you wheeled him out and into your car, however the best you could do for him was plenty of tarps and an inflatable pool to turn the back seat of your minivan into a makeshift tank of some sort, You grabbed some things from home and then drove to where you hoped no one could find you, which just so happened to be a place that looked like a mermaid grotto.

It wasn’t easy to get him from your car to the water but it was worth it to see the smile on his face.

“Y/n, dive into the water,” Satoru called; you stripped from your clothes and cannonballed into the spring. Satoru swam in circles around you; his blue fins sparkled under the moonlight. 

You laughed as he made small splashes around you. He swam closer to you and wrapped his wet arms around your waist. 

“Uhh Satoru…?”

“Didn’t you want to know how we mate?” Satoru said in a low voice, the seductive look in his eyes sent a chill down your spine. His cool fingers caressed your face, pushing your loose hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah,” you turn to fully look at him, wrapping your arms around him. 

“Great,” His lips pressed against yours, happily obliging to kiss him back. As you continued, the kiss became heated. His cold fingers slipped down your bare skin, and your back pressed against the edge of the grotto pool. 

“I can't say I'll be fully gentle but I'll make sure you're fully taken care of,” he said as his nails scratched against your skin. You hissed, and he pressed soft kisses to your neck. The mating process was kinda rough, but you liked it as well. 

“If you don’t mind me asking why is the scratching necessary?” you  do your best to look at the marks on your skin.

“Scratching is arousing, You are turned on, are you not?” he runs his sharp nail down your arm slightly.

“Yes, but I can show you a better way,” You said, guiding his hand down to your cunt. His eyes widened a bit as he felt your folds with the pads of his fingers. As he pressed against your mound of flesh, you could feel the webbing between his fingers, between that and those nails of his, you were certain there wouldn’t be any fingering for you today. 

He pressed against your clit, and you took a sharp breath. He quirked his head to the side. 

“Does that feel good?” he whispered while staring up into your eyes.

You nodded and added more. His fingers began massaging your nub in small circles. You rested your head on his shoulder and let out a little moan. 

“Bite me” Gojo whimpered and it took a second to process what he said. But you were already on his shoulder the least you could do was obliged him. You sink your teeth into his shoulder and with his thick skin was tough to mark into him. He lets out a pleased hiss as you effectively caused a small dent just off near his gills. 

“Now it's your turn. Sorry, this may hurt a bit,” he said teasingly, her lips ghosting over your skin before he sunk his teeth into your shoulder. You winced with how deep his teeth were; you were sure that they had drawn blood.

Satoru wrapped his hands around your waist and lifted you out of the water onto the rocks. He gently parted your legs before leaning forward. He pressed soft, tender kisses to your inner thighs. His cold lips tickled and made your stomach do somersaults. His tongue took a precautionary lick to your pussy before lapping at your wet folds. 

A small moan escaped your lips as his lips closed around your clit. His tongue circled, flicked, and sucked out your sensitive bud. You couldn’t control the noises that were coming out of your mouth, and your legs were enclosing around Satoru’s head. He used his strong hands to hold them open, his wet palms gripping your thighs. 

Just as you were about to release all over his face, Satoru pulled away. You whined and looked up at him.

“Don’t you wanna get to the good part?” He gave you a smirk.

He slid up onto the rocks beside you and positioned himself in an off-able way. Your hand hovered in the air for a moment, and you weren’t quite sure what you were supposed to be doing. You guessed that Satoru sensed your confusion because he grabbed your hand and guided it to where a slit was ah, yes, his mermanussy. Your fingers slipped around and stroked the area for a moment before his long, smooth length slipped out of it, springing out from its sheath and bobbing in the air. 

Your hand warped around his member and stroked it up and down a few times. He was slightly slimy and slim-tipped, with it being more skin color. Your finger teased his tip, and his sticky precum followed in strong lines attached to your fingers. You twisted and turned your hands as you jerked him until he was amply hard.

Now that he was rock hard, you positioned yourself to be on top of him and slowly sunk down on his cock. You moaned, and Satoru hissed. 

“There's no going back now,” you said and slowly began to move your hips to meet him. He grabs your hips and moves up to suck in your skin. 

“You feel so good~” Satoru tightened his grip and started to fuck up into you. You pressed yourself on his chest to be upright in order to not be a mushed mess laying on top of him. You flattened your hands on his chest as you rode him gently, your hole clenched around him as you bounced on his long cock. Wet sounds and the lewd noise of skin slapping against skin bouncing around the grotto walls, along with the wanton moans coming from your mouth. 

The rocking of his hips meets yours as you hold back the urge to wiggle and squirm. Your walls flutter around his length, and you take him in a kiss. It was messy, passionate, and pretty uncoordinated, but neither did you care because you were caught up in the moment.

Satoru tilts your body back a bit as he ruts into you with a new determined force. You felt like you had little control at this unbalanced angle. He licks your breast and kisses your neck, and you let out whines and moans. Satoru let out a few whimpers as he got closer to climax, and you were definitely right along with him.

“Ahh, I’m gonna cum, come inside me!” you panted out, feeling like the air was getting harder to breathe.

You couldn't come back anymore, and you let yourself experience a sweet release. The walls of your cunt clench around him as he comes, and your juices leak around the base of his cock. Around the same time, Satoru groaned, his grip on you growing tighter and his nails digging into your hips, and hot ropes of cum spilled inside your pussy. Your warm walls milked him of every last drop, the translucent milky liquid leaking from your hole. 

You slowly remove him from inside you, feeling his fluid leaking out of you with a sticky slowness. 

You smile fondly as you rest against his chest. You fell asleep on his strong chest. Not much later, you woke up to a strange sensation. You had a strong urge to jump in the water like it would be more enriching than the air. You slowly and carefully slipped out of Satoru’s arms and into the water. As your head ducks under you find yourself not needing to hold your breath. You reached up and felt delicate gills on the sides of your neck.

Then scales pushed their way through your skin, and fins sprouted out along with webbing between your fingers finally, and most uncomfortably, your legs stuck themself together and overtop grew flesh and scales. Your legs and back hurt so bad like your bones were breaking and reforming. However, the pain didn’t last longer than a few moments, and when you flexed your new tail, it felt much more flexible than you imagined. It was almost like your body was a worm in a string with the way you could toggle around. 

When satoru woke up he looked over at your new form with admiration. He slipped into the water to get a better view. You looked out at the surface world one last time before taking Satoru’s hand and diving into the world below. 

“So, are you excited to see your pod after such a long time?”

“I’m excited for you to pop out some guppies,” Satoru smirked as you both swam off to your new life.

[goldenstring6123]

Lnds: Them as human-dog hybrids!

Author's notes: A bit more of a niche HC~

Sylus as human-dog:

General Personality:

Aggressive and territorial both in human form and in animal form.

Usually prefers to be directly beside you at all times, sometimes positioning himself in between your legs if you're doing something that requires you to be idle.

Almost always in guard dog mode.

Comfortably switches from human form to animal form any time, anywhere.

In animal form, there's always a leash attached to his collar, in human form, he removes the leash but keeps the collar on. He likes it.

Wards of any other dogs that come in your way with a simple stare and a snarl. Other dogs shiver at the sight of him—even the more bigger ones.

if you get mad at him or scold him for being naughty, he'll ignore you which you will always let him get away with— but if he goes too far, he sleeps on the balcony.

You like grabbing his tail and muse yourself at seeing his super quick and funny reactions.

Dislikes

Dislikes play time with other dogs. When he's at the park, he sits under a tree and inspects the place as if he's a watchdog. If other animals pester him, he will bully them.

Dislikes being touched by other people even stepping a tad bit close will turn him aggressive.

Absolutely hates the vet; he's a menace to everyone except you; No vet would accept him; he likes only two specific doctors in Linkon city and both of them were old veteran women.

Likes

Likes bath time but likes giving you a hard time as well, when he's wet and lathered with soap, you will be too.

like's agressive play and you coddling him with belly rubs, back ear scratches. In the midst of play time he'll suddenly turn human and want your affection in another way.

Habits

At midnight, he leaves his very expensive and comfortable dog bed and sneaks into yours, come morning, you're face to face with his bare chest.

He doesn't let you off easily in the morning and even if he did, you still have to deal with his groggy ness.

He makes a mess when he sees that you cleaned your side of the bed when you wake up earlier than him and he just likes watching you clean it for the second time, ignoring your yapping and scolding.

A Major incident:

You once got mauled by another guard dog, unfortunately he wasn't there to protect you because you left him at home—stating it will just be a quick errand. when too long of a time has passed and you entered the house, the putrid scent of another dog had him barking loud. He sees you covered in scratches and bandages with blotches of red. He looses it and you can't calm him down no matter what kind of coaxing you do.

He turns human and catches you in your exhausted state, seeing the needle marks on your arm (from the vaccination), he was a bit relieved to see you got yourself patched up; He was still angry though. He helped you with the things you need to do and he puts you to bed, resting on the foot of your bed until he could hear you snooze.

At night, he hunts for that awful scent, searching high and low. The scent lead him to an abandoned shed in the forest where a stray and formerly detained human-dog hybrid resided. Needless to say there were trails of blood leading to the toilet and he was there trying to get the blood off by the time you wake up.

Zayne as human-dog:

General Personality:

A Medical service dog who is also the former chief cardio surgeon.

Often alert and active on duty when you are in your work mode.

A very intelligent dog, even if you aren't in any trouble, he'll bring your stuff like a pillow, a bottle of water, a bag of chips and so on.

He's very particular to the scent you give; although he can't describe it, he can smell your emotions and your physical condition.

He rarely barks at anything random and has a designated spot for doing his business. he is a low maintenance, well trained and polite dog.

Dislikes:

He dislikes any special cooked meals for him that has carrots in its ingredients. You can sneak in some when he eats in human form but when he's in his dog form, he can smell it no matter how well it's blended in the meat.

Also hates fast food, but likes the sugary sweet confections.

Likes:

In human form he likes reading, and rather than go to the dog park or the pet supply store, you bring him to a cafe or a bookstore.

From time to time, he likes being in human form for longer periods. and while he does, he likes to service you, helping you clean around the house, and perform check ups. If not doing anything, he's reading a book or watching a classic film.

He likes to keeps his bed in the same spot and only has specific areas in the house where he stays. Preferably in elevated areas like on the table or on the couch.

He likes to visit the park, but never really plays around. Small puppies are attracted to him but he only paws their heads before tending to his own business.

He takes it upon himself to go to the doggy parlor and the vet; sometimes he doesn't need you to accompany him. He takes pride in being well groomed; he takes it a step further by also taking good care of his human form. the downside is: it gets really really expensive.

A Major incident/s:

Rarely do you ever get mad at him except for times when you order fast food on your nights off. Before managing to take a bite of that double cheeseburger, he snatches it from you and lunges it around. Stepping on it. He hates fast food and he knows its not good for you.

As punishment you didn't let him join you for work for the next three days and he's left all alone in the house waiting for you to get home. He eagerly waits for you at the door and all you do is pet him before falling asleep on the couch.

Despite knowing you were mad at him and he was under punishment, he still drapes a blanket over you making sure you weren't cold. He sleeps at the foot of your couch and when he comes to, you were sleeping on the floor with him, cuddling and sharing the same blanket he draped over you during the night.

Xavier as human-dog:

General Personality:

An immortal police dog working with the Hunter's association.

Has a keen sense of smell and hearing as well as agility and speed.

In office down-times he naps— a lot, yet he never fails to perfect physical test. Somehow always in great shape both in dog form and human form.

When he has nothing to do, or there's too many dogs in the vicinity, escapes and sleeps in the flowerbed of the rooftop garden or ontop of a slate rock. In human form, he sleeps in a hammock behind the storage room which was conveniently placed by a former staff. (or so he says)

He will play dead on the floor if he's too lazy to walk so you have to carry him in his.

In your home, he's mostly in his human form. He still likes snacks but mostly likes to stick to you wherever you are. In the sofa? Sitting and resting on your lap. in the bedroom? At the foot of your bed. Toilet? He's outside the door. There's no alone time with him. Dislikes

He hates baths but likes being groomed. He's a very patient boy in the doggy parlor especially if they offer treats. Doesn't bite but will push himself into a corner or face the wall as if he's being punished.

People pet him a lot and he avoids it like a cat, sometimes play biting to tell people to go away. If people still manage to pet him, He'll make loud, whining noises and hide under your table.

Likes

He like's winning plushies in the arcade yet coats them in saliva so you can't exactly have that plushie to yourself. 3 days in and that plushie would turn into shreds because of his aggressive playing habits.

He loves treats, be it dog treats or pastries. Can hear a crinkle of treats inside your bag from 5 feet away. He'll be raising his paw at you once he manages to get your attention.

A Major incident:

You once got mad at him for slobbering and chewing up all over the paperwork on your table because you weren't able to pay attention to him during the busy office hours.

As punishment, you had to work overtime to accomplish and remake those files; all while ignoring him. Afterwards, when he thought you were done, you asked Nero to exchange patrol dogs for the time being.

Xavier was devastated and suddenly turned human, apologizing and saying that it wont happen again.

You ignored him and went home— him trailing after you just a few meters away. He doesn't enter your house when you get there and just guards your front door. When morning comes, he realizes that there was a blanket on him an a brand new plushie. Your door was purposely left ajar for him to enter.

Rafayel as human-dog:

General Personality:

A high maintenance fashion dog.

He's a runway pet, often working alongside clothing companies.

Though he is a human-dog hybrid, he's frequently in his human form to sign contracts and make negotiations.

He models both as a dog and as a human. He's very picky though, he only chooses the best of the best companies, ones that you would wear.

He has his own penthouse near the beach but people complain about him because he barks a lot, seemingly out of boredom. As a solution, he moves in with you!

He chooses your outfit for you, and digs out of your wardrobe every now and then, especially when he needs you to accompany him to a show or a party. Dislikes

He is more dramatic than you anticipated. If he dislikes the film or show he's watching and you were ignoring him, he would bark annoyingly, or whine a lot most likely rolling around and jumping on the bed to relieve his boredom.

He has problems with cats and can sense if one steps in within the perimeter of his residence.

In his dog form, he dislikes being in places or rooms with extreme temperature. be it super cold or too hot. Although he likes the summer, sometimes the heat is unbearable so he needs to cool off as soon as he goes out. Likes

He likes to make sure you look the best because you are a reflection of him; But he knows he looks better than you.

He keeps a few toys around and particularly likes the plushies, but above all he likes the to play around with the scrunchies you wear.

From time to time, he likes play dates with other dogs— his breed in particular is very quick to get along with other dogs regardless of species. He's quite fond of frolicking in the indoor dog parks of Linkon city.

Habits

He has his own bedroom in your apartment but you always wake up with him next to you either in his dog form or in his naked human form.

He needs full maintenance every few days, these involve brushing, nail grooming, ear cleaning and so on; It gets very expensive but he always pays for it. In human form he likes to pamper you as well by giving you massages, treating you to spas and salons.

He is a nightmare to deal with as a dog mainly because he sheds so fast; even if you cleaned the kitchen before cooking there will always be fur in your cutlery.

A Major incident:

You were always scolding him for his childishness but once in a while, it gets endearing except for that one specific day where he decides to chew on all your heels and shoes because you were going to meet up with the manager of that Chihuahua model.

Needless to say, yours shoes, including slippers, which you had to pay money for, were all ruined. Barefoot and all, you drove him over to his penthouse and left him there for a solid few days. No one complained of any noise because his neighbors were out of town.

He was angry at you for leaving him alone so he wanted to give you a piece of his mind, but when he arrive at your apartment, the first thing he sees were those chewed up shoes.

Feeling apologetic at the sight of your broken shoes in the trash bin, he gathered his connections and used some IOUs to be given some of the best and beautiful shoes in the industry. Needless to say you were quite surprised when there are a bunch of pr boxes blocking your door. That and Rafayel patiently waiting at the foyer of your apartment.

Author footnotes: Some of the text won't adhere to the format— Sorry about that! I'm still getting used to tumblr. Also, I wanna make a part two out of this. hehe~ Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost | Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[rosyblooom]

blooming season🌷 (1) | ln4

"grief is just love with no place to go”

PAIRING: lando norris x fem nepo!reader WORD COUNT: 2.6k WARNING(S): mentions of death & blood, swearing SUMMARY: four years after she fled monaco, y/n is back on the anniversary of her father's death. however, an unexpected encounter with an f1 driver disrupts her plans. A/N: my first time doing this, so probably has errors. if you've got any thoughts or requests pls let me know xoxo hope u enjoy! :)

part 1 <- | part 2

The scent of salt still lingers in the air, but now it feels different, not as welcoming as it used to be. It's a painful reminder of days gone by, days filled with joy and warmth that now seem distant and unattainable. No matter how hard you try, you can't shake off the memories, replaying them in your mind like a scratched vinyl record that refuses to play properly.

Today marks four years since your father's passing, and four years since you left Monaco. You were just eighteen then, fresh out of high school, when the news of your father's tragic car accident hit you like a ton of bricks. In a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sorrow, you packed your bags that very night and left before the weight of it all drowned you.

You couldn't bring yourself to attend your father's funeral, clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't real. But deep down, you knew the truth—your father was gone, and nothing could change that. Even as you threw yourself into your studies, pursuing a nursing degree, the pain never truly went away.

And now, here you are, sitting alone on this deserted stretch of beach, watching the waves crash against the shore in a steady rhythm.

This spot holds a special place in your heart, known only to a handful of locals—a fact you couldn't be more grateful for. Here, away from the watchful eyes of tourist crowds, you find solace as you simply listen to the earth rotate.

You exhale slowly, leaning forward to brush the sand from your palms before reaching into your bag for the bottle of red wine nestled inside. It takes a bit of effort to uncork it completely, but the satisfying pop is worth the wait. With careful precision, you fill a wine glass to the brim with the rich, maroon liquid—something to take the edge off.

"Welcome back, Y/N," you whisper to yourself, lifting the glass in a silent salute. "Thank you, thank you. I can't imagine anything worse."

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips, a stark contrast to your usual composed demeanour. It's been 1,460 days, yet it feels like your world only just came crashing yesterday.

Needing calm now, you take a sip of the wine, savouring its sweetness, when the sound of approaching footsteps catches your attention, pulling you back to the present moment.

"Seriously?" you think to yourself, feeling your heart plummet like a stone sinking into deep waters. You took every precaution to keep your return under wraps—after all, you paid good money for that privilege.

Arriving just last night, you made it a point to rise at the crack of dawn, a time before the world awoke; a time when it's just you and no one else. You couldn't bear the idea of facing the prying eyes that would surely accompany the day ahead. For once, you didn't want to be known as the daughter of one of Monaco's wealthiest families; you simply wanted to be yourself, stripped of titles and expectations—a daughter mourning her father.

Feeling like a trapped animal, you become acutely aware of every sound and movement, your gaze locked on the figure approaching.

A man.

His brown curls bounce with each step until he comes to an abrupt stop just a few feet away from you.

With a small wave and a nod, he greets you with a simple "Hey."

It takes a moment for you to register that the greeting is directed at you, causing you to tear your gaze away without a response. Your eyes flit between the gentle ripples of the sea and the man settling down uncomfortably close, prompting an annoyed grunt to escape your lips.

“Fuck spatial awareness, huh…,” you mutter under your breath, though not quiet enough to evade his notice. He slips off his black headphones, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Sorry, what?"

You clear your throat, then sit up straight and gesture expansively. "All this space, and you have to sit right next to me?”

He smiles.

Your gaze narrows.

"But I'm not right next to you," he retorts with a playful grin. "You're all the way over there." He points towards you and then at himself. "And I'm right here."

"Well, it's still too close," you snap.

"Sorry, did you buy this beach or something?" he counters, his grin widening. "Last time I checked, it's open to all members of—."

Growing increasingly frustrated, you interject, "No, I didn't buy anything. I just want some personal space. But clearly, that's lost on you."

With a scoff, you spring to your feet, snatching up your towel and cramming it into your bag, sand and all.

"Wait, you don't have to leave," he insists, his footsteps drawing closer. But you pay him no mind, tossing your phone into your bag and hastily gathering the rest of your belongings from the ground.

Once everything is crammed into your bag, you snatch up your half-empty glass of wine and stand upright, only to feel a foreign warmth enveloping your hand and glass. The man now stands directly in front of you, invading your personal space completely; you have to tilt your head back slightly to meet his piercing green gaze.

"Look, I'm sorry if I did something wrong, but—" he begins, but you cut him off sharply.

"Way too close now," you snap, attempting to pull your hand away, but he refuses to release his grip.

"You do realise I'm trying to apologise, right?" he asks, confusion evident in his eyes.

"I don't care."

His grip remains firm. "There's plenty of space for both of us here."

"It doesn't matter anymore," you respond, your patience wearing thin.

The struggle continues, your voice growing louder with each tug. "Let go of the fucking glass!"

Suddenly, a sharp yell pierces the air, followed by the hollow thuds of broken glass hitting the ground. Shock washes over you as you barely register the sticky liquid trickling down your hand and onto your toes.

"Ah, shit," he exclaims, snapping you out of your daze. You quickly assess the situation, noticing the shattered remnants of the wine glass scattered on the ground, staining the sand crimson.

Panic sets in as you frantically check your hand and feet for any injuries, your eyes wide with fear. After several anxious moments, you breathe a sigh of relief.

I'm okay.

The tranquillity is abruptly shattered by deep groans echoing through the air, drawing your attention to the man's slumped figure with his back turned to you. His face remains hidden from view.

Though he's clearly in pain, you're tempted to slip on your shoes and make a hasty escape. Today is already burdened with its own weight; you're not sure you can handle any more. You even take a step back, ready to flee, but then something stops you.

A pang of guilt washes over you, weighing you down like heavy bags strapped to your legs. With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly admit to yourself, "I can't believe I'm about to do this."

"Okay, fine. How about you put on your big boy boots and let me take a look at that?" you say, crossing your arms expectantly.

There's no reaction from him, not even a response.

Rolling your eyes, you drop your bag onto the sand and cautiously circle around him until you're face-to-face with his unruly brown curls.

"Hello?" you tap his shoulder, frustration creeping into your voice. "Earth to the stranger who doesn't understand personal space?"

"Seriously?" he retorts, his tone sharp.

His eyes meet yours as he straightens up, his expression guarded, but you simply shrug, maintaining a neutral demeanour, and extend your hand.

"Let me see," you say calmly.

For a moment, he simply stares at you in bewilderment, but then he tentatively extends his hand towards yours.

"I see," you breathe, examining the large cut in his palm with care, mindful not to dirty it with your fingers. Despite the blood seeping from the wound, you release a relieved sigh after a thorough inspection—it's not as deep as it initially appeared.

"Alright," you announce, dropping his hand and clapping your hands together. "Go home, make sure nothing touches that hand, clean the cut, and bandage it. Keep it dry for a couple of days, and then reassess."

Without waiting for a response, you turn towards your bag, sling it over your shoulder, and shoot him one final glance.

"This has been... unpleasant," you remark dryly. "I really hope our paths don't cross again. Goodbye."

"Wait!"

You shake your head and ignore him, determined to continue onward.

"Wait!" he calls out again, desperation evident in his tone. "I don't have any bandages!"

You stop walking, considering his words, but still don't turn around.

"And... I don't have any sanitising stuff either," he adds, his voice trailing off slightly.

Slowly, you turn around and wave your hands dismissively in the air, shouting back, "That's what supermarkets are for! I guess it's time for a shopping trip!"

Just as you're about to spin on your heel and leave again, his voice cuts through the distance.

"Look, you seem like you know what you're doing. Can't you just help me out here?"

Shielding your eyes from the harsh glare of the sun, you squint at him as he begins jogging toward you. "That advice," you shout back, "was me helping you out. Trust me, I wanted to leave way earlier."

For a moment, neither of you speaks as you watch him closing the distance between you. When he finally comes to a halt in front of you, you instinctively take two steps back—you need your personal space.

"So?" he says between pants, waiting for your response.

You furrow your brows, deep in thought. "Well, I don't have anything on me, sorry to disappoint. But like I said, there are shops around here."

You resume your walk, but to your dismay, the guy falls into step with you almost immediately.

"So, what? You have nothing at home?" he presses, his gaze burning into the side of your face.

Refusing to meet his eyes, you increase your speed.

"Right, because I'm just going to invite a stranger," you emphasise, "who I didn't want to be around in the first place, into my home."

His hand suddenly grips your arm, causing you to instinctively rip out of his grasp, both of you coming to an abrupt halt.

"What?" you bark, irritation seeping into your tone.

"You can google me," he offers, his voice calmer now. "Lando Norris, Formula One driver. Search my name up. You'll see pictures—every single detail about me, you'll probably find on the internet. Now I'm not a stranger anymore, right?" he suggests, his gaze pleading.

You remain silent, shifting your focus toward the calm waters as you breathe in and out. It feels as though the world has paused, waiting for you to come to a decision, to reach a conclusion.

Today, the anniversary of your father's death, is a day you've been dreading yet anticipating for so long. Its disruption unsettles you, but deep down, you know you can't simply ignore it. As much as you wish to skip over this chapter of your life, tear out its pages, and never look back, you can't. It's not healthy.

Still, that doesn't mean you can't delay it for a little while longer.

"Fine," you sigh, relenting to the situation, and begin rummaging through your bag until you locate your phone.

Quickly, you extract it and raise it to Lando's face, snapping a photo of him with the flash on.

"What the hell?" he exclaims, blinking rapidly.

"For my protection," you state matter-of-factly. "Just because you're famous doesn't mean you can't be a bad person."

Once his gaze meets yours again, he runs a hand through his hair and offers a sheepish smile. "Fair enough."

You nod, acknowledging his words, and continue your walk toward the car park.

"I'm not a bad person, though," he adds quickly, catching up to you.

"Colour me convinced," you reply dryly.

*********

As you approach the car park, annoyance bubbles within you at the sight of it: filled with cars and swarmed by dozens of people.

"You said you're a Formula One driver, right?" you ask, tilting your head up at Lando.

"Yeah, why?" he responds.

Instead of answering, you grab the hood of his jacket and pull it over his head.

"Why did you do that—" Lando begins, but you cut him off.

"The last thing I need is a mob of your fans, okay?" you interject firmly. "The quicker we get this done, the sooner we can go our separate ways."

Lando chuckles as he adjusts the hood. "I'm really that bad, huh?"

"Worse," you deadpan.

"...Right."

With your raven car in sight, you quicken your pace, relief flooding through you. The last thing you want is for people to realise you're back, especially not today.

However, as if your luck has run out, a woman steps in front of you, blocking your path. You immediately turn your focus to Lando, motioning for him to take a picture with his fan and hurry up.

But instead of the attention falling on him, a weight suddenly falls onto your shoulder, catching you off guard. You clear your throat, preparing to speak, but the woman beats you to it.

"Oh my goodness, Y/N. It's you, isn't it?" the woman exclaims, her voice filled with recognition and sympathy.

You can't reply; your mouth feels dry, your tongue heavy with unspoken words.

No, not today. Please, not today.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Y/N," she continues, her expression radiating pity. It's uncomfortable—the way she looks at you, the way she touches your shoulder so gently. It feels like you're being burned alive, yet you're immobilised, just as you were four years ago when you first heard the news.

"Your father was such an amazing man. And you, I mean, you've been missed. My daughter loves you—"

Suddenly, you're being pulled forward, jolting you out of your trance. You struggle to keep your balance as you try to comprehend what's happening—the woman is gone, and Lando's hand is firmly clasped around yours, pulling you closer to him.

Your personal space has been completely invaded, yet you don't feel the usual urge to pull away. Even if you did, you're not quite sure Lando would let you.

"Your car's the black one, right?" you hear him ask, but the words don't immediately register.

"Huh?" you mumble, still reeling from the encounter.

"That black car over there," Lando points and leans in close, his gaze locked with yours, "that's yours, right?"

You nod, still not quite ready to speak.

Lando releases your hand and holds out his palm to you. "Okay, car keys, please?"

"What? No," you shake your head, rejecting the idea. "There's no need for that."

"Come on, I'm a Formula One driver, remember? I won't crash it."

"It would be irresponsible of me to let you drive in this state," he adds, his voice firm.

"And what about your hand?" you nod toward the injury.

"Like I said," Lando smiles slyly, cocking his head to the side, "I drive race cars; I think I can handle driving with one hand."

Rolling your eyes, you relent, "Okay, fine."

With a sigh, you fish out the car keys from your bag and hand them over to him.

4:05 ───────────ㅇ─ 4:28

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙘𝙝𝙪𝙨<3 ✿

characters: il!dan heng x nb!reader

warnings: fluff, just fluff, also dan heng’s tail holding u hostage, also also reader is shorter than dan heng

notes: dan heng needs more love and appreciation. come on, this mans fine asf

if anyone were to ever tell dan heng that one day he would be purring contently while keeping a struggling familiar tuft of [c] haired person in his hold, he would have simply shrugged them off with a thought of how weird that is. really? keeping someone in his hold? while being content and purring? yeah, that doesn’t exactly sound like dan heng.

if so, then whose teal scaled tail was holding you so tightly? wrapped around your middle, keeping your hands to your side as you try to wiggle out of his grasp? purrs like a cat’s reverberating in his room as he pulls you close over and over to place a peck on your forehead.

the vidyadhara high elder is a respected title. one that causes the people of the luofu to kneel and sing praises to him. in his name.

saying how amazing he is to split the seas, to control the waters and the ocean like it was nothing, to hold the highest title amongst an ancient species of even more ancient beings.

yet here he was. this needy dragon. keeping you tightly in his hold as he peppers your face in kisses.

“dan heng… my love”

“yes, dearest?”

“will you please be willing to let me—“

“not happening”

and there goes your chance of freedom. taken away, cruelly stripped off of you as he wraps his arms around you, keeping you in place. lovely. any other time of the day, any other moment, any other day and this would have been such a lovely occasion for you.

having your usually stoic and a bit reclusive lover turn into a clingy cat. wait no, dragon? cat-dragon? dragon-cat?? in your hold. but right now… nature calls. and his tail wasn’t helping.

long scaled limb wrapped around your shoulder all the way to your stomach. his arms coming around to pull you closer to himself on the mattress that works as his bed in the archives. smushing his face against your collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses on the exposed skin as deep rumbling purrs resound from deep within his chest.

sometimes, due to his current form, his horns would knock up to your chin. each time, he would leave soothing kisses as a means to “kiss the booboo better”.

this was your lover, ladies and gentlemen and everything up and above. this… clingy cat-dragon.

“perfect height for forehead kisses…” dan heng mumbles quietly to himself as he moves to plant soft kisses all over your forehead after moving your bangs to the side.

smooch! smooch! smooch! smooch! smooch!

pulling away with a content smug smile on his face, the vidyadhara looks at the amount of lipgloss stains left all over your face and exposed skin of your neck. you had complained about his lips being a bit harsh and he decided to borrow one of your chapsticks. the colored one specifically. and here you were, eating your very own words.

literally.

especially when the dragon leans in to plant an unusually deep kiss on your lips, almost as if wanting to devour you whole. the more… primal parts of his brain did wanted to do that. just wrap you up in his hold and chomp on your exposed flesh until you look like you were mauled by a wild animal. which… was kinda the truth.

but that was for later on.

for now, the greedy dragon was just content to hold you tightly in his grasp, planting soft kisses on your forehead or cheeks. wherever his lips reach first. the ends of his tail wagging happily like a puppy, a certain flare of possessiveness sparking in him whenever he sees you trying to escape his grasp. a feeling of happiness and sheer adoration blooming instead when he sees the colored chapstick leave another mark on your skin.

thankfully, a certain cheerful pink haired girl knocks on the doors to dan heng’s room. upon entering and seeing your colored face and how your lover’s tail would tighten around you just a little bit, she raises a brow.

placing her hands on her hips, march looks between the two of you. one with a happy smile on his face, if one could squint, they could see imaginary small flowers and bubbles floating around him. and the other… they looked like they wanted to die.

“uhhhh… what happened here?”

“i fell for a trap… i went in for a kiss and now. he’s got me. and he won’t let me go”

“mine”

“i know but nngh!”

“mine”

“mmph!”

“mine”

“i know but mnngh!”

“mine”

“goddammit!”

[heartkaji]

lose it !

(n) — suo hayato only eats numbers

tw: ed ! please read comments !

you unlock suo hayato’s phone in aim of finding messages from other women; pictures from other girls or maybe even men.

instead you find a calorie app & the notes of a dead man walking.

suo hayato eats eight hundred calories a day.

for breakfast he logs coffee, black. no sugar or milk or anything because what is he, an animal ? lunch is rice cakes & hot sauce & cucumber as a snack but dinner is empty because it’s already 7pm & only fatties eat beyond seven so suo must wait till 12pm tomorrow before food can find his throat again.

suo hayato only eats numbers.

your heart breaks a little more as your fingers scroll further through his notes & logged meals. tuesday reads ‘no lunch, make up for extra cals from donuts with sakura’ & wednesday is empty because ‘water fast’. suo hayato is a disciplined boy but every log ends with ‘resist or regret’ but fuck this is unhealthy & why does suo resist himself an essence to live ?

“love, have you seen my phone ?”

you don’t realize your eyes are hot with tears until suo cups your cheeks in cold palms, eyes almond & scanning your own as if they’ve just seen a ghost. you press your body against his own & god he is so frail, you have never realized it before but now it’s so apparent & fuck if you let your mind wander any further you might become a woman half dead too.

“suo, i don’t want you to die,”

& suo hayato only sighs, because if only you knew he’d died a long time ago.

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, edit, translate or reupload

a/n : this is a serious topic, so please forgive me for this serious message.

my heart goes out to all the wintergirls & boys out there. the ones who go to bed fantasizing about what they’ll eat tomorrow & get moody when their one meal a day doesn’t hit the way it’s meant to. my heart goes out to all the girls & boys who watch mukbangs & cooking shows in order to drown out the growling in their stomach. the ones who flip their chip bags to the back on instinct & would rather die than eat a plate of waffles & syrup. my heart goes out to everyone who exercises all they eat, who sleeps & drinks away their hunger & ties their hair & clenches their throat every time they step in the bathroom after a meal. recovery is a bitter pill but you can only heal when all the pills have been swallowed. it is worth it. eating disorders kill & no you don’t have to be underweight or anorexic or ‘atypical’ anything because just a few months of calorie counting kills your mind & after long enough it will kill you too.

your body is worth so much more than coke zero & greek yoghurt & sugar free jello. recovery is real & it may take years before you are full of it, but everyday gets at least a little better when you are not eating yourself to the brink of death.

i am not the best at these kinds of messages, but i hope some winter girl or boy reads this message & thinks to themself, i am enough, not because you are under 110 pounds but simply because you are. your body is so much more than stretch marks & loose skin or arm fat & the likes. your body is yours & you are enough.

my heart beats for all of you because if you are not careful, it will not be able to beat for itself. i beg of you, choose to recover & please choose it today. why follow wonyoung & monster high diets when you are already so heart-achingly beautiful ? recovery is never easy, but it is worth it & so are you.

ps: so sorry for writing such a serious topic for such an unserious anime, but someone might need to hear this & that someone might be you. yes yes im aware suo is only on a diet because he’s a monk or something, but i know his little eating habits can be so triggering to watch to some & i just wanted to let you all know that it will be okay.

gosh why do i feel like such a monster for writing this

[mothduchess]

Kitsune HRT Part 1

There was a light shower accompanied by the gentle pitter patter of daylight, the sky untarnished by any cloud or dreariness. The earth was laid bare to a dance of shadows and puddles as light fluttered about the scene, parading through the golden leaves and across the white bark that rivulets of water meandered down. The forest was quiet; no bird song or noise pollution, not a rustle or even a buzzing. Yet the wind was there. The scent of roses that drifted with its whispers was carried through the towering woods that seemed to stretch forever. But in these woods there would be a grotto of tall grass and the most lovely of flowers, roses of such amazing hues that the petals did rise in celebration. In the middle of the grotto there was a stump whose rings numbered in the hundreds and branches curled up high like eager hands. The light wreathed the field in shining gold. And sitting upon this stump atop a nest of pristine cloth bedding was a creature of fur with reddened fur and black. Her tails curled around her graceful legs all draped in shining white and colorful silks. Her fur rustled with the breeze, speckled with crumbs from flaky pastries. Other creatures sat around her enjoying tea and cakes aplenty. Dainty fingers were stained with strawberries and peaches as petals lightly fell around the party. The bears and the wolves were cloaked in mantles of cloud and a frog drank gold from a saucer. Wordless chatter curled throughout the party. The vixen sat prominently with legs curled under her and eyes squeezed upwards. With grace, onto her snout curled a silver smile that broke with heavenly laughter. Laughter and Smiles. Echoing, and curling, off into a grey distance. Sleep fell off ungracefully thudding onto the hardwood as only a boulder could. I groaned with my eyes screwed shut. I peeled from the sheets and rubbed the crustings from my eyes. Those pale blue eyes and the blunted nails with chipping nail polish. Pale grey light oozed through the broken blinds as morning made itself known. But as I laid half swaddled in sheets, surrounded by plush toys, my only thoughts could go to her smile. Her laughter. All I could muster was a frown as I conjured forth my energy to rise from the bed as cotton foxes and other creatures watched. "...That was a nice dream." My nails dragged across the flesh of my arms leaving red marks that sat across older such markings. I yawned and stretched, sliding my phone into my hands from the place it fell the previous night. I turned on videos as wakefulness slowly drew itself together. "That was the fifth time this month already. They've been getting worse," I thought. A sigh escaped my lips as I dead scrolled through social media. "How can anyone focus like this?" At that moment I saw posts come into view. Over the past year or so, a new kind of medicine had hit the stage, but all of the new drugs were filed under a singular umbrella: "Humanity Removal Therapy". Pictures of people showing scales and growing to a gigantic heights, tails, claws, horns, all kinds of new body parts. I even saw people become human or things stranger than any typical animal. I was slackjawed. I had heard of the medicine, surely. But to see so many people more get onto it, I couldn't do anything but stare at the screen with legs pulled into my torso. Cows. Dragons. Fish. "It's that effective?" I begun to get dressed. It wasn't as if I'd never taken such a leap before. Estrogen was what gave me my chest and lower proportions. It didn't do everything I could have hoped for, of course not, but it was something! I was happier. It was... "Something like from a dream." I sat there upon my knees for minutes. The phantom sensations of a bundle of tails drifted behind me, the ethereal fur almost taunting me. At first I wondered if I was allowed to have it. Then, thoughts of money. I had so little, could I afford the many months? But the idea of those dreams haunting me for years and years on wrenched my gut into a spiral. I couldn't live like that. I couldn't.

When I sat at my computer, I pulled up a tab to begin researching. After a moment's hesitation, I pulled open another window. "Kitsune Transition: Week 1."

------------------------------------------------------------------------ Thank you so much for reading! And huge shout out to @ ayviedoesthings and all of the other people who have made Animal HRT art. It helped us figure out that we were therian, and we're making that to express the feelings we've had in our head. Will be posting more over time!

FIRST NEXT>

[apollodeath]

I want to make my own hc for König so here goes my attempt!

(Also there is some inspired by the millions I’ve read but some are purely from my mind lol)

My own König Headcannons!

(SFW)

He loves petting your hair whenever he can.

The bracelet he wears is a matching one to yours. Bought as a pair somewhere and you mailed it to him while he was away.

He never takes it off. Ever.

He loves getting home to see you, of course, but also just loves taking off his shoes and wearing pjs.

He definitely loves holding things up in the air away from your reach just to tease you. It makes him feel even bigger.

When you are sad he loves picking you up baby style and just holding you on his lap or in bed

Nights when he can’t sleep he whispers to you even tho you both live alone; he says he talks quietly because the stars are sleeping.

Usually falling asleep halfway through a sentence

Loves hugs, will without a doubt ask for one right when you wake up.

Hates coffee, makes him jittery

Maus is FOR SURE his petname for you. 

Doesn’t see a reason for a phone. Has one but barely knows how to use it.

Loves seeing you in his oversized shirts

He really likes when people are intimidated by him (unless he wants to be their friend.)

Gets tears in his eyes when he sees ASPCA commercials with the sad animals.

He saves every letter you send him under his pillow, he swears it smells like you and helps him have better dreams

He shaves his face rarely cause only stubble grows slowly for him

He minds his scars

He’s insecure about his scars that litter is body but he can’t help but blush when you trace them or kiss them

He treasures a moment in his mind when he tried hiding his scars with clothes or his mask but you said “let me see your pretty face, Köni~ ?” He said why he didn’t want you to see but that just made you say “I understand if you don’t want to now I’ll wait for when you are ready.” It made him smile and more comfortable with showing you slowly

He thinks it’s so cute and romantic when you tie his shoes so he returns the favor

He loves brushing your hair after showers/baths

Loves taking baths. Especially with you.

MDNI

DO NOT READ BELOW THIS LINE IF YOU DON’T WANT NSFW CONTENT

(NSFW)

Loves baths when they end with you on top and water on the bathroom floor from…. Splashing.

He’s guilty of leaving bruises on your hips on purpose because he just loves seeing them.

He also loves when you leave marks on his neck and chest just before he goes on missions

I feel like he has a super high sex drive and masturbates whenever he’s away or thinks you’re busy or you’re sleeping

If he’s away and catches a glimpse of his hickies on his chest or neck while getting ready he can’t help but get hard and have to finish himself to the thought of you leaving them on his body.

He moans quiet at first touches but, once he’s in the middle of pumping in you he’s cussing in his own language because honestly he forgets English when he’s in so much pleasure.

“Bitte kleine Maus, du fühlst dich so gut Scheiße”

Translation: Please, Little mouse you feel so good fuck!

He doesn’t do it often but, when he aches for only your touch not his own he will ask you even if you’re in the middle of your chores/busy. If you make him wait he’ll sit back getting more and more frustrated. His hard on will stay prominent and his hands will be pinned at his sides as he watches like a hungry animal ready for its pray to take a step closer. At times you get done and think about doing something else just to watch him shift in his seat and sigh.

But once you’re free and give him the look or a simple “König~” in your bedroom voice he’s up and pinning you to any surface ripping his own clothes down to his ankles and yours off and thrown to the side

After moments like that he usually apologizes with words sprinkled in kisses and cuddles

If he orgasms before you he will continue thrusting his seed in you

HE HAS A BREEDING KINK

He gets off on how he can throw you around and hold you to a wall while thrusting in so deeply

He knows you like when he holds both your wrists in his hand

He also enjoys being dominated. If you wanna tell him to get on his knees or that you wanna try something he’s in for it.

He loves watching you please yourself, no matter how it’s done.

Once you rubbed yourself against his thigh until your release and he had so much precum leaking it puddled in his pants. He bites his knuckle trying to stop his moans watching you.

He’s masturbated to you in his bunk while away… and other places like the bathroom, shower, outside under the stars on a mission etc.

He sometimes keeps all his gear on to fuck you in. He likes when you grab at his chest for stability and hold his tac vest. Must admit you like when the rough fabric rubs against your legs

His gloves on your body while he stares at you through his mask

He trains still at home by doing his workouts and going on runs just to keep up his health but he especially loves when you admire him sweaty and breathing heavy.

He knows what you’re thinking when your eyes travel up and down his body after a shower.

He keeps his mask on and only that when laying you out

He gives head for hours until his jaw feels sore just to taste you on his tongue and lips

When you finish he asks if he can make you cum again and again

He’s very jealous type but doenst let it get to him unless the person starts flirting or touches you.

Thank you for reading!

If there’s any typos I’m so sorry and I haven’t written anything like this ever soooo again sorry if it’s different or weird to read 😅

Also let me know if you want more I actually really liked this.

[kifkay]

Specialists and their Dragons

this is a part two of this post, where I expand on Specialists' dragons and their role in their lives!!

Sky:

all dragons are given "fancier" names at their birth, issued by the clerics stationed in Red Fountain. Sky's dragon is named Merciful Wraith of Pre-Dawn Blizzard, the second.

for obvious reasons, riders are allowed to pick "nicknames" for their dragons.

hers is Pearl, given to her for her snow-white scales.

she is a calm-mannered, small dragon, who is as quick as lightning.

Sky worries too much to ride her into open battle, but he flies with her for leasure and recon often.

Pearl loves diving in rivers - one of the only times when she becomes animated and playful - and has a bad habit of dragging Sky down with her. the girl just gets so excited when she sees a body of water!

Sky resorts to just jumping out of his saddle when she spots any river, and hoping for only a slightly-traumatic landing.

Pearl loooves Bloom (most dragons do), is playfully antagonistic towards Brandon (headbutts him and lightly nibbs on his arm) and shy around Helia. She is very spoilt by Sky and uses that to her advantage often.

despite her calm demeanor, she is still a dragon and will rip heads off - has done so in fact, to protect her rider.

Riven:

Riven's dragon is a BIG BOI, much larger than average dragons. He has a dusty pelt and scar-laden skin, accumulated over the long years of his life.

the name was Death’s Harbinger and he was easily the most aggressive/mistrustful of all dragons. even Codatorta, the most skilful rider of Red Fountain, could reliably control the great dragon half the time.

Riven looked into Harbinger’s big, milky, sad eyes and went all lifetime movie - horse girl - “I can tame him” on the poor dude.

after a long routine of slowly earning his trust, then getting adjusted to each other, Riven bonded with Fang - Harbinger’s new nickname.

Fang is a traumatised old dragon, whose size and temperament should be accounted for at all times - but he is also a huge grump. if Fang wants to nap, he’ll lay down on a sun-heated rock and won’t move for the next four hours.

Fang is also territorial over his rider and will puff smoke at Riven - to make him retain his scent, and therefore his mark of protection. Riven is very annoyed, because he doesn’t like smelling like wet dragon all of the time.

to both Riven and Sky’s chagrin… Pearl and Fang love each other.

Fang does add +171627282 points to Riven’s intimidation factor.

Brandon:

Brandon gave up his right to ride his dragon, since he didn’t pursue dragon-riding lessons beyond a school-mandated course

the reason he didn’t is because his team already had two dragon riders - Riven and Sky - and Brandon wanted the team to be well-rounded.

but Brandon loved the freedom of flying and loved his dragon Synrise (ex the Scorching Might of Twin Suns). it was heartbreaking for him.

Synrise is a beauty among dragons, with a golden shimmer to her peach-coloured scales and expressive brown eyes. Usually, she was a well-behaved younging, but she certainly gave Brandon hell.

Synrise hated getting mud or grime on herself and would actively misbehave to avoid that, didn’t like staying in the barracks with the other dragons, and was a horrifyingly picky eater.

Although she liked Stella, Synrise would always get overly excited and play too roughly with the fairy.

both the dragon and Brandon loveeed flying together, though, going high and performing tricks.

her and Pearl got along fine, but Synrise is deathly afraid of Fang.

once Brandon stopped riding her, she would refuse to even look at him when he would come for visits.

but she would leave him little tokens afterwards, on his balcony - usually in the form of dead dears, stolen motorbikes or tree trunks.

Helia:

since Dream died, Helia hasn’t ridden any other dragon.

Dream was picked as an egg by Saladin, and raised by the older wizard’s hands. Saladin promised his grandson that Dream (then, Regal Legacy) would be his upon Helia’s enrolment to the Red Fountain.

Dream’s scales were a gradient of red and black, carefully maintained and shiny. He was both decently strong and fast, and had a slim, black tail.

Dream was obedient and stoic, a dutiful shadow behind its rider. he rarely betrayed a command, and only when needed to ensure their survival.

Dream was also… shy! he loved to nuzzle into Helia’s chest, or drab his tail over the young man’s legs, but only if they were alone and Helia was the first to initiate contact. he napped the best when Helia curled around him.

Helia, at the time, was obsessed with self-perfection and training, exhausting himself beyond limits. Dream, who always responded to his emotions deeply, took after his rider. He too, grew restless and weak.

Helia knows that it was his fault Dream was killed - the dragon was much too exhausted, to fight through a haze of monsters on a mission Helia led. If not for his own destructive habits, Dream might’ve been alive and well, scouring through skylines. as it stood now, he didn’t even have a body to bury.

one of the only keepsakes Helia retained is Dream’s scales. He always carries one in his pocket. A reminder.

from smallest to biggest: Pearl -> Dream -> Synrise -> Fang

[clorvismaximus]

Caring for Your Comedic Companion: A Guide to Proper Clown Care

Creating a Clown-Friendly Environment: The Chuckle Chamber

Clowns thrive in environments that stimulate their comedic instincts. Before adopting your clown, ensure you have a dedicated space in your home for them, commonly referred to as the "Chuckle Chamber." If you cannot afford to buy a new enclosure, an old tent painted with stripes can keep your clown happy for the first few months. Equip it with a variety of colorful props, oversized shoes, and a well-stocked assortment of rubber chickens. Ensure the Chuckle Chamber is spacious enough for your clown to express its natural exuberance.

Nutritional Needs: A Diet of Delightful Delicacies

Maintaining a well-balanced and joy-inducing diet is crucial for your clown's health. Offer a mix of cotton candy, popcorn, and custard pies to meet their nutritional needs. For hydration, a continuous supply of seltzer water is recommended. Regularly check for any allergies or sensitivities your clown may have to certain treats. Surprisingly, peanut allergies are common amongst certain breeds of clown.

Exercise and Enrichment: Laughter Workouts

Clowns are energetic beings that require regular exercise and mental stimulation. Engage your clown in laughter workouts, which can include juggling sessions, pratfall practice, and balloon animal sculpting. Introduce new comedic routines to keep their minds sharp and their spirits high.

Grooming: Maintaining the Mirthful Mane

Clown grooming is not just about appearance; it's an essential aspect of their well-being. Regularly check and clean oversized shoes to prevent slips, trim colorful wigs to maintain their vibrant allure, and ensure that the iconic red nose is kept in pristine condition. A well-groomed clown is a happy and confident one.

Veterinary Care: Honk-Checked Health Checks

Regular visits to a certified clown veterinarian are crucial to monitor your companion's health. These professionals specialize in honk-checked health checks, ensuring that your clown is in peak comedic condition. Vaccinations against gloom and routine screenings for joke deficiencies are standard procedures.

Socialization: Playdates with Fellow Funnymakers

Clowns are social beings that thrive on interaction with their own kind. Arrange playdates with fellow clowns to encourage socialization and the exchange of humorous antics. Attend clown conventions, where your companion can partake in the grandeur of collective laughter and collaborative performances.

Understanding Non-Verbal Communication: Mastering the Art of Clownish Signals

Clowns communicate primarily through non-verbal cues, such as honks, squeaks, and exaggerated gestures. Pay close attention to your clown's signals to gauge their mood and preferences. Understanding the art of clownish communication is key to fostering a strong bond with your comedic companion.

Celebrating Special Occasions: Clown Birthdays and Anniversaries

Marking special occasions in your clown's life adds a touch of festivity to their existence. Celebrate birthdays with a clown-sized cake and a chorus of joyous honks. Recognize adoption anniversaries with a memorable performance or a specially crafted routine to commemorate the time spent together.

Providing proper care to your beloved clowns is not just a responsibility but a joyful journey of shared laughter and merriment. By embracing the unique needs and whimsical nature of your clown companion, you'll cultivate a bond that transcends the ordinary, creating a lifetime of cherished comedic moments.

[pascalsbby]

CARNAL : PROLOGUE

Read Part 1

Carnal Masterlist / Masterlist

Summary: 2.9K/ f!reader, dark!joel, stalker!joel.

Warnings: 18+ mdni, SMUT, age gap (unspecified but reader is late into college), female masturbation, joel masturbating, dominate & aggressive joel, cam girl, pet names, praise kink, he briefly talks you through it, tells you what to do. talk of: trauma (not graphic or specified as SA), pain kink, fingering, sucking fingers, red flag girl stalker!joel is coming, the usual pure filth

“You thought you had it all figured out before him. Animals. Tender, primal flesh. That’s what we are at the end of the day, right? Fucking, testing one another and then eating each other alive, heart first. Maybe the heart is the sweetest part of the body- or maybe it’s just the easiest to get to.”

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

It started as a way to claim something back for yourself. Pieces that you’d given away over the years, ones that had been ripped from your hands, your body. This way, you had a say.

Strip, open your lips for a stranger to coo praise towards your teeming core… and then pay you. You cried a couple of times afterwards, languidly sitting in the filth of your own desire. Through the guilt of it all, it was hard to explain why it pleasured you so deeply.

No man had ever, in real life, truly pleasured you. Taking cock this way and that just for you to squeeze your walls together and moan, tired of the wrestle and hoping it would end soon. “I came.”

This, behind a camera, didn’t feel like real life, though. Most of the time you didn’t see their faces, just the curvature of desperate dick and tiring arms. That made it easier, of course, until the money became second thought to how pleasing their whispered obscenities were, dripping from their mouth down to their sobbing cocks.

You read somewhere that some kinks are a result of trauma, which makes sense. Having an angry father and a mother who didn’t leave her bed until after you left for college, was just the first lock on a heavily bolted door. You raised yourself, your brother, your mother, your father. Labeled an ‘old soul’ or whatever the fuck the grownups always told you as they patted your back and sent you along.

Scratching your way through childhood, you decided it would be easier to be invisible in high school. You painted, and finally you were noticed. You told yourself college would be different. But the only interest shown was that of your body, or that of your art.

Maybe if he praised the way my tits looked after he marked himself into them, I’d feel better about myself. Maybe if he slipped his spit-soaked fingers into the right place, I’d be cured.

The cure never came, no matter how many different sets of fingers you had inside of you. No matter how many tubes of oil you emptied onto primed canvas. Everyone always wants to know the story of how the canvas came to be covered, but do they really want that truth?

Maybe the desire to bare yourself to these men stemmed from never being wanted or loved the way you loved others. So much so that it caved in your chest the first time you fell in love. You fundamentally could not understand why he wouldn’t try as hard as you, why he didn’t love like you did. “I just don’t know if I want to stay with you because of your body, or if it’s because I love you.” Watering yourself down was preferred, it hurt less, even though there’s shame in that, too. So love hadn’t really crossed your mind since. You wondered where that little girl was, who so deeply believed in it, despite the fact she never received it back. Desire, pleasure, pain with no connection? That was easy.

So uttering your want…need, to be hit, spit on, filled, devoured- as if it was an act of release- to any sexual partner, lover, or even therapist, never seemed right. Especially when you were aware that you would collapse into yourself afterward, falling over the thin line of possible pleasure and needing safety. Of wanting to, but not being able to let yourself go completely.

The stranger across the screen? They could tear you apart in every way you wanted, without you having to beg or be asked “why?” Without touching you. Afterwards, you could shut the computer screen.

This was your secret, the squalor. A juxtaposing new kind of fight.

You thought you had it all figured out before him. Animals. Tender, primal flesh. That’s what we are at the end of the day, right? Fucking, testing one another and then eating each other alive, heart first. Maybe the heart is the sweetest part of the body- or maybe it’s just the easiest to get to.

You learned quickly that he was in charge. Submitting to him felt like second nature. You’d long ago given up the belief that someday, someone would save you.

@texanblackbird

You look like you need to be put in your place sweetheart. Havin your sweet little holes out for all these men and what worthwhile could they possibly be givin you back?

You

Well Texan Paul McCartney, right now they’re giving me a lot more than you. $100 and I’ll enter a room with you for an hour.

@texanblackbird

Let me help you little bird, you sound fuckin pathetic. $300 and you’re mine for 30 minutes. Don’t open your mouth until I say & don’t you dare smart off to me again, got it? Then I won’t clip your wings, not just yet.

You felt your cheeks swell with heat, but more so you felt the pull in your core. His profile picture was missing his face of course, but you couldn’t deny that from the small circle, the body filling it looked intriguing. You got off of the bed, sat up your laptop and checked yourself in the mirror above your desk. You brushed out your too-perfect lipstick with your finger, making it look a little more worn. Making it seem like you were a little more experienced, that you put on a good show. That you were worth the money.

You let him in and waited.

He was breathtaking, sat in a simple office chair. His shoulders spread the entire width- he engulfed it. His collarbones adorned by freckles and warm-toned skin. Like the sky had kissed him over and over, singing praises into his skin. He had gotten a little sun recently, his chest blushing and soft looking with a few scars from time. His arms splayed across his lap, jeans still on but wantonly unbuttoned. He was thick, rugged- dirty even. He needed a shower from whatever laboriously hard work he had just completed. You could already see the length of him pushing against his jeans. His hips protruding slightly, curving at his thighs. Veins running down his hallowed v line.

He wasn’t big in the sense of grotesque protruding muscles, but large in a soft way. His biceps pushing against his skin, showing that he would easily overtake you, lay you down and pin you where he wanted. Strong. His shoulders could support you. His fingers thick… one was the equivalent of your two. He could caress the spongey insides of you with absolute ease. His palm greatly bigger than your entire face. You imagined it sprawling your mound, fingers tall enough to push down on your stomach at the same time his thumb was pushing down into your body. His build was that of an older man, someone whose body has seen years, been loved, discarded, kissed, and maybe even hated. His stomach lightly spilled over his half open jeans, hair curling above the seam and crawling up towards his belly button.

You didn’t dare say anything until he instructed. You sat pretty on the edge of your bed and took him in. Oh, you would do anything he asked of you. Then, he took out his cock and spoke a voice that sent fire down your spine.

Husked, vibrating, basey. You never had an affinity for a southern drawl until his lips parted.

He spent most of your sessions hungrily ordering you around your own body. He was abhorrent in ways you’d never dreamed before. You discovered parts of yourself you didn’t know needed touching, panting and babbling for him. Right when you’d hit a new spot he would huff a laugh at your desperation, breathing out, “Good girl. Goooood. Now do it again, harder. That’s it baby.”

“Turn around ‘n spread open those pretty lips for daddy. I wanna see what you look like drippin from the back. Bend over. Mhmm, oh so good,” he paused as you did what he asked, “God damn I know that pretty pussy would love to swallow this cock. Don’t ya think so Birdie?”

“Y… yes sir.” In reality, it would absolutely destroy you. But imagining the stretch of your hole as he slipped himself into you was enough to pull out another orgasm. Your entrance tightening and losing slack each time he sheathed himself into you.

“Let it out baby girl.” You did. You let it out for him, unabashedly.

If his deep voice wasn’t enough by itself, then even looking at his hands was sometimes enough to send you over the edge. The way he grabbed himself, spitting multiple times into his palm in order to cover the width, moving his middle finger in lazy circles around his angry head. Drawing spit into strings to wet his slit, pushing the precum down the veins of his length. Breathing heavily and moaning from his chest.

He told you that all of your holes needed to be filled simultaneously until you were whimpering, begging for reprise. You agreed through overstimulated tears.

By the fourth encounter, you’d given him your phone number, not thinking too deeply into it, considering by this time he was paying you enough to cover your phone bill three times over. And rent.

You lived alone in an apartment a few minutes outside of campus, far enough to drive but not far enough away to feel like you weren’t in the mix of everything. Everyone around you was around the same age, so no one thought twice about the moans you failed to stifle. Or the dad-aged man who often sat in the lobby, head down- unbeknownst to you, of course.

You still didn’t know each others name, but you were instructed to call him ‘daddy’ and ‘sir’. When he wasn’t calling you filthy pet names he called you ‘darlin’’ or ‘sweetheart’. You Googled his phone number but couldn’t find anything worth following. The ignorance to who he could be was good enough for you, blissful even. It fed into your daydreams between seeing him every Thursday.

You’d never had a true conversation with him, never dared ask why that day over any other. Upon his request you would send him multiple pictures a day, your fingers in your mouth. He wanted to see the wetness in your underwear, begging for you stick your fingers in and play with it so he could see what he’d done to you.

By the seventh encounter you knew you wanted to be completely devoured by him. You wanted to fill the space between his teeth.

“I want to bring you pain so that you know what real pleasure feels like. Bring you so close to the edge that I’m the only one who can bring you back. I want you to fall on your knees for me, I want you bruised and beggin,” he husked, “at my mercy, not the world’s.”

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡

One Thursday, someone knocked at your door amidst your indecency. You had a few friends, mostly those with the same major and classes. It didn’t make sense for them to be showing up, considering you’d just spent a three hour class time with them.

Your movements stuttered.

“You gonna get that?”

“Are you gonna let me?”

“And let whoever it is see how wasted you look right now? Absolutely. Tell ‘em I said hi,” he smirked.

The knocking continued until you finally made it to the door. Whoever it was, could by no means enter your apartment, especially not your bedroom.

“Sarah!” Oh god.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay? Have you been crying? Who hurt you, let me at ‘em!”

Always full of energy, this one. She was a few years younger than you, a photography major you had met when she approached you one day in the Student Union, asking if she could take your portraits because you, “had a certain aura about you.” Of course you agreed, how could you say no to someone who was so entirely happy? You exchanged numbers and had at least one new text from her daily, since. You hadn’t seen the photographs yet, she took them on an old film camera, but you kept meaning to ask if she’d developed them.

“I’m okay, promise. I just wasn’t expecting you. I would invite you in but I’m not feeling too great at the moment. I think I caught the cold that Shay had,” you pouted, hoping your were selling it well.

“Oh no worries, I texted you but you didn’t respond so I thought I’d walk the couple doors down! I just wanted to see if you wanted to grab dinner on campus, but we’ll reconvene another time.”

“I’m sorry,” you palmed your forehead, “it’s been a day. I promise I’ll answer next time. Dinner tomorrow night?”

“Sure! See you then. Text me if you need anything.”

“Always,” you said with a smile as she walked away and you closed the door.

You hadn’t been to her place just yet. She has a roommate she absolutely despises, you learned. You didn’t know she had an ill bone in her body, but she spends most of her time outside of her apartment, understandably so. It made you feel a sort of calm though, knowing she lived so close. You were going to miss her liveliness whenever you graduated and she returned to her hometown for the summer. You wished you’d met her earlier in college.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡

He had heard everything, you rushed too quickly out and didn’t close your bedroom door entirely. The apartment is small, he thought, if it was anything like Sarah’s. Sound travels. He wondered if Sarah was there to drop off the pictures she’d taken of you. Oh she was so excited about them, FaceTiming him months ago to show him. She insisted that she would wait to give them to you, as a graduation present. At the time, graduation was a semester away.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” You were. There was something in your eyes that fell to the pit of his stomach. Who had hurt you so badly that your eyes gave it away, pleading? You looked so small, sitting at a table with pencil in hand, drawing. You looked so familiar, he felt your stare in his core.

He would never admit that he had taken a screenshot of one specific image as Sarah continued on, “She was just sitting there, and I went up to her and asked her! And now we’re friends. I feel like we’ll be best friends soon. She’s a senior though, but she lives right down the hall. And oh! Her taste in music is so similar to yours too, you’d like her.” She smiled.

He looked at the picture shamefully. Between jobs, in the bathroom, in his work truck. He felt gross the first time he touched himself to you, but it felt so good, the way his cock would twitch at the thought of all the ways he could ruin you. Fix you.

A week later he couldn’t take it anymore. He found you quickly, you popped up in Sarah’s Instagram friends right under a few other people, smiling in your profile picture. Private, but your social media was all under the same name, so he took you for everything he could find. You were an artist, loved classic rock and always retweeted sad poetry.

The day he came across your secret Twitter felt like an answer to a prayer. He knew you had it in you. What a naughty girl. But why would you follow yourself? That wasn’t very smart of you. Did you even think about your own safety? Did you even care?

He made an account on the cam site you promoted on said post- and he was in. As far as he knew, Sarah had never mentioned him to you… never had a reason too.

You’d surprised her one weekend, showing up to have dinner with her. Not before sitting in the lobby for a few minutes, hoping to catch a glance of you. For you to pass by without a thought, the air bringing your scent to his nose. He even walked down the opposite side of Sarah’s hallway when he got to the fourth floor, trying to see if there was any indication which apartment was yours. Maybe he would knock on it, accidentally, apologize and say he was looking for his daughters apartment. He wanted more of you, anything he could get his hands on.

The money wasn’t an issue for him, he lived alone and didn’t need much. He gave it to you happily if it meant that you were his for an hour, through text, whatever. He gave you a fake number, one that led back to some app he texted you on. He’d had these obsessive tendencies before.

You returned to him, blushing while dropping the robe you had hastily grabbed. As you sat on the edge of your bed, spreading your thighs open for him, tracing wet lines towards your cunt, he knew that you were his, you would be. An hour later he was texting Sarah.

“What time is your friends capstone show next week?”

Extra: Joel in his truck

Part 3

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

A/N: Thank you for all the love in Part 1! I haven’t written in a while, but I’ve just graduated college and I have some downtime and a busy brain to satiate.

I just wanted to state that I’m pro-sex work & pro-therapy! This is me writing parts of myself and my own trauma into the main character…forgive me! ‘Art’ is embarrassing sometimes, huh?

I have an entire Pinterest board filled with ideas, pictures, quotes for this fic. I hope you guys are enjoying ☺️

Tag List: @paleidiot @sarap-77 @i-love-rafe

[espionn]

SandWing tribe sheet!

Here's tribe #2! i find myself liking sandwings more the more i think about them :) they'e definitely one of my less changed tribes, i like joy ang's design for them so i just referenced some desert lizards to give them a little more uniqueness and mostly left it otherwise. hope yall enjoy!

Edit: I ended up changing the blood color a little to be more interesting :)

Physical Appearance + Traits:

-SandWings, in stark contrast to MudWings, are the smallest of Pyrrhian dragons. They are very light, and barely more than half the height of some taller tribes. 

-Their appearance is most comparable to other desert reptiles, particularly the horned lizard, with spines, ridges and darker markings across their sides.

-SandWing coloration usually lands on the spectrum between gold and white. Sometimes a more yellowy color might be seen, and rarely, a darker brownish tint. Their colors reflect desert sand, and allow them to bury into it unseen, whether for shelter from enemies or the blazing sun. Despite lighter SandWings performing better under desert conditions, those with darker coloration are often seen as more attractive, and dark tattoo patterns are popular.

-Darker scales near their eyes absorb light, allowing SandWings to see despite the sometimes oppressive glare of the desert sun. They also have an extra eyelid to protect from sand and dust.

-At the end of their tail is a barb that can inject lethal venom at its most potent; SandWings themselves have some level of resistance to the venom.

-They have stiff, upright fans, or ridges, along their backs, which help with temperature regulation; when hot, the veins within fill with the body’s warm blood, and the high surface area allows it to cool off quickly. The same process can also be done with the wing membranes, though a bit less effectively due to the thick scales on the outside of the wing.

-SandWings have thick, dark skin lining their mouths, which protects them both from sun damage and the spikes and thorns often found in desert food (cacti, spiny lizards, etc). They also have a high tolerance to some toxins, and to alcohol resulting from fermenting fruit. (This is true of RainWings as well.)

-They eat little and drink less, like all animals surviving under desert conditions. One good meal a week is all SandWings really need, and usually they get enough water from the food they eat that they don’t need to go in search for more.

-SandWing fire is not as suited for combat as that of other tribes. They can’t produce very much of it at once and it’s more akin to natural fire than typical dragon fire. It certainly can be used to fight, but they prefer to fight with tails and claws; their fire is better used for food and light.

-SandWings are good fliers, and can glide long distances without needing to land and while using minimal energy, but more notably, they’re also the best runners out of any tribe. Their stamina and ability to walk or sprint over vast stretches of desert is unmatched, and some prefer it over flying.

Life Cycle:

-SandWings lay between one and three eggs; usually it’s just one or two, and three is somewhat uncommon. They incubate for a short period of time, usually just three months, and hatch small but able to fend for themselves. SandWing dragonets lack a ridge along their backs, which makes it easier to bury themselves in the sand to stay safe, and their venom, while less outright deadly, acts much faster and usually induces sharp pain, nausea and even minor paralysis. It’s effective at keeping them safe from predators.

-SandWing parents - mothers in particular - are usually present and able to look after dragonets, so these defense mechanisms are only in place as a last resort.

-Dragonets have distinct “young”, “adolescent” and “adult” phases of growth, and usually reach adult size at around seven years. Like all dragons, they do continue to grow, but very minimally in their case.

-SandWings do not generally partner for life, and exclusive monogamous coupling is not the societal expectation. Some do it, but it’s more common to jump between short relationships based largely on physical attraction. Fathers aren’t usually expected to help raise dragonets.

Society and Culture:

-At a time, SandWings were one of the most organized and well-educated tribe, but later they became divided into two very distinct groups: Palace SandWings and Scorpion Den SandWings. These titles aren’t literal; not all “high-class” SandWings live in the palace, and not all street-dwelling SandWings live in the Scorpion Den, but these places are fairly representative of their group. In the palace and nearby areas, SandWings keep up with news and are typically well-trained in combat, in service of the queen. The Scorpion Den, meanwhile, is an infamously criminal town where dragons aim to survive and scrounge for anything they can get. Run largely by assassins and hired theives, this town is to thank for the ‘shifty and untrustworthy’ stereotypes often pointed toward SandWings.

-SandWings in general, in later parts of history, are more focused toward physical training than education, but the Den, as well as other scrappy and chaotic outskirt towns, has changed general perception of them in a somewhat negative light. 

-They are known for heavy slang and “colorful” language, including those in the palace, and when paired with regional accents of some of the outskirt towns, some other tribes find SandWings difficult to understand if they speak too quickly. 

-SandWings eat rarely, and as a result they sometimes reserve eating for specific occasions. To celebrate, they conduct tribe-wide parades and festivals, and these are often the main time for treats and feasts. At these times, they indulge in (usually roasted) foods - insects, lizards, birds - seasoned with a variety of spices, and elaborate fruit dishes that often include rainforest delicacies brought by RainWings.

-The events inspiring such celebrations usually revolve around celestial movement. Solstices, moon cycles, eclipses, etc. are all celebrated to different degrees. SandWings worship day and night equally, and the sun and moons have equal cultural significance to them. The unity of the two keeping the desert in balance is what they care about.

-SandWings, in fact, are so intrinsically connected to time and movement that this is thought to be the reason behind their musical inclination and sense of rhythm. Music and dance are another major part of these parades, and SandWings have a great love for engaging and complex rhythmic music. Those watching from the sides will often swish sand and rattle their scales in time with performances. (RainWings are commonly invited, to bring their food and dance with the SandWings, as SandWings greatly respect their skill.) SandWings also have a particularly hard time coping if they are removed from the day cycle; it can be extremely disorienting and unpleasant.

-Jewelry, gold especially, is extremely popular and can be worn to excess. It’s also common to tattoo or bejewel scales to the preference of the individual.

Diet: Omnivorous. Will eat almost anything available: insects, reptiles, mammals and birds; cactus fruit, cactus itself, coconut, nuts; and a wide variety of spices, many of which are outright poisonous to other tribes. 

[deputyrook]

Impressions- 5/? Mark Hoffman x Psychic!Reader

PART 1. PART 2. PART 3. PART 4.

You're a psychic. He's a detective. And a serial killer.

(You're a team.)

Word count: 4050

WARNINGS: CORRUPTION, stockholm syndrome, abusive dynamics, general Saw-levels of horror & violence. Reader is drinking the Jigsaw Kool-Aid.

“God, you’re persistent,” you tell Kerry, laying back on your couch and rubbing your temple, “Fine. Yes, I’ll go to therapy and I'll check out the community resources for Jigsaw survivors. Are you happy?”

It's not exactly a lie. You might check out the resources. Kerry's voice crackles across the line in reply: “Good. And if you’re able to remember anything while you’re there-“

Of course. It’s not that she wants you to get help, but rather, she’s hoping that you’ll pick up on some kind of psychic lead from discussing your capture and trauma with a therapist.

A swell of bitterness fills your chest, though you wish it didn't. You’d asked her to come and help you with groceries and chores today, but she’d declined, saying that she was too busy working on the case. Somehow, Mark had been coming around to help more often than she was, and he was balancing his job with being a serial killer.

Kerry’s work has always come first, and her dedication is something you had often admired. The two of you had bonded in university over a shared discomfort at parties and social events. Neither of you had ever quite fit in with the crowd. But even knowing her for as long and as well as you did, it still hurt to know the obsession came before your friendship.

“When are you going to take a break?” You ask, instead of voicing your frustration.

“When I find Eric,” she replies, steadfast. You must make some kind of a critical noise in response, because Kerry adds, “What? Do you believe it’s hopeless? That I should just give up?”

“It’s not that,” you mutter with a sigh, already regretting this line of conversation, but knowing that Kerry won’t give it up until she pulls the truth from you.

“Then what?”

“Just that maybe Matthews shouldn’t have gone and played Cowboy Cop, shooting from the hip.” You finally snap, to Kerry’s stunned silence. “You play stupid games and you win stupid prizes, Ally. If he had just listened to the rules he’d been given-"

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you right now," She says, voice sounding more shocked than angry, "Jigsaw took your eyes, put you through hell, and you’re defending him?” 

“I’m not defending him,” you bite back, wondering if you are, “But Matthews was corrupt. You know that, even I know that. Sometimes, you get what you deserve."

There's a beat of silence over the phone line, and you wonder if you've taken it a step far. It almost surprises you, to hear the words coming from your mouth. A month ago, you wouldn't have believed you would feel this way, but it's true, isn't it?

Matthews had a way out, just like everyone else did. Just like you did. If he hadn't fucked around and found out, he would have been fine.

Your sympathy for the other Jigsaw victims- the other subjects- has become somewhat muted since you became one yourself. Being able to intuit all of their faults in high definition had only dulled it further.

“You think he deserved to be murdered, is that it?" Kerry asks, and if she wasn't angry before, she definitely is now. Thankfully, you know from experience that she tends to anger quickly, and cool off just as fast. "What about you, then? You got tested, too. How the hell can you say it's deserved?”

Because I deserved to be tested, too.

Something about the topic of conversation turning to you causes a vision to spring forward from the recesses of your mind, like it had simply been waiting for the most opportune moment to reveal itself.

You see yourself, standing in what appears to be a shallow pool of water in the middle of a dense forest. It is quiet and still, save for the ripples in the water caused by your movement. You can't hear any animals- the forest is silent.

You look exactly as you remember, save for a few key details- wide, white globes for eyes stare wildly back at you, and you are drenched in the water. You are soaked through and dripping, the water running down your forehead in rivets. On your head, twisted and gnarled, is a crown of some sort. At first, you think it's a crown of branches- fitting for the forest that you've found yourself in- but once you approach and look closer, you realize it's a crown of rusted, jutting metal pieces.

In your hands, you hold out a crumpled piece of paper, one you’ve somehow kept from dissolving in the water. Carefully, you take it from yourself and unfurl it, to see a wrinkled advertisement for a Jigsaw survivor support group.

Interesting. You file that piece of information away for later. Your lips are moving, but you can't hear the words. You lean in, trying to listen. It seems you're repeating something, over and over, mouthing along to an inaudible refrain.

“Hello?” Kerry's voice pulls you out of it.

“I'm sorry,” you reply. Any anger you'd been feeling is gone, shaken out of you, “My head's been all over the place."

"I know," She sighs as well, and you can feel her unspoken apology in return as she continues, "The FBI's getting involved. I've been in contact with one of their agents."

Immediately, you think back to your vision of the two dangerous people- the man and the woman.

"Damn," you remark, before you note, "He's a lot to deal with, isn't he?"

"That's putting it lightly," Kerry huffs, and you can feel her frustration not only at you, but at the FBI agents getting involved before she's been able to find Matthews herself. She feels embarrassed by it, the scrutiny and criticism only mounting the pressure she feels to find an answer, quickly.

"Tell me this," She asks then, weary, "Is everything going to be okay?"

There's a sinking in your stomach, but you lie to her, and say, "I think so."

Your words hand in the air, as if from a hangman's noose.

"Thanks," Kerry replies, and you're not sure if she believes you.

"Hey, Ally?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful out there. Keep your head on a swivel." You feel like you can hear the smile in her voice when she responds to you, though her tone remains grave.

"Always. You too."

---

[11:47AM - Outgoing] Did you know about the FBI getting involved in the Jigsaw case?

[11:48AM - Incoming] no.

[11:48AM - Incoming] fuck.

[11:50AM - Outgoing] That one isn't a vision either, straight from Allison

[11:51AM - Outgoing] But I've seen them, too.

[11:51AM - Outgoing] Two agents I think. They look like trouble.

[11:53AM - Incoming] thanks for the heads up

[11:54AM - Incoming] fbi... what a pain in the ass

[11:55AM - Outgoing] If they start poking around, it could be a lot worse than that

[11:55AM - Outgoing] Be careful

[11:59AM - Incoming] well how about that. you do care.

[11:59AM - Outgoing] Don't let it get to your head

---

The Jigsaw Survivor Support group meeting is held in a church basement. It's the first time you've been in a church for a long time, and the atmosphere feels weighty with the desperate prayers of its inhabitants.

Of course, there isn't an elevator. Down in the cool of the basement, a circle of chairs waits for you, and you get the sense that several men and women already seated when you arrive. Hushed voices quiet to silence as you approach, tapping your cane ahead of you.

"Oh! Hello!" A woman's voice calls out as you approach, nervous but excited. From her tone, you guess that she's an older woman. "You're new! Normally, Dr. Gordon would greet you, but he's actually away this week. He's the one who organized this group."

Doctor Gordon. Why did that name seem to strike a chord of familiarity with you?

You wince as someone takes your arm. You've learned that one major difference about being blind is that strangers are all too willing to touch you, now that they think they're being helpful.

You sure wish that they wouldn't.

The person who grabbed you by the arm leads you further into the room to a chair, "helping" you sit down. They seem a bit offended when you don't thank them, instead setting your cane beside the chair and folding your hands in your lap.

"So? What'd he take from you?" A male voice asks from across the circle, after you've settled into your seat.

"Take a guess," you reply dryly. No one in the room laughs, and you're not sure if it's better or worse that you can't actually see them all, staring and judging you. You clear your throat, and try again. "My ability to see."

"You don't need to talk about it, if you don't want to," the woman placates quickly, a note of admonishment in her tone. "Ned, you can't just ask the new people what was taken them-"

"It's okay," You interrupt, feeling surprisingly calm. Between the woman who had grabbed you, and the man who interrogated you, she had bothered you more than he had, "Not much throws me off, these days."

Reaching out with your senses, you survey the circle. A tangled mess of self-pity and loathing hits you, and you have to keep your lip from curling in a sneer of distaste. These are the survivors? You only get a hit off of one of them that doesn't repulse you- a reluctant, begrudging respect, an acknowledgement that he's made changes in his life that have improved things, since the game that he was in.

Feelings of ownership, control, responsibility- could the Jigsaw games really inspire them? Mostly, it just seemed to have traumatized these people-

These people, who were so miserable and desperate to begin with, their sins writhing inside the marrow of their bones. You have to free the sins, get the them out of the marrow to save them-

Your head throbs. The headaches have lessened considerably since you... refocused your senses, but they hadn't completely disappeared.

Briefly, you itch for a painkiller, but you ignore the craving as best as you can as you listen to each subject in the group introduce themselves.

The only name you fully register is that of the young man who you'd felt the sense of kinship with- Daniel Matthews. Hm. Isn't that ironic?

"I'm still processing everything," you say, after you introduce yourself. "But to be honest... I guess I have been seeing things in a different way."

"I'm sure you've learned to appreciate your life, and be grateful," you can hear the scowl in the man called Ned's voice. You have no idea what his test was, or how he survived, but you can hear the sarcasm in his tone- if someone here is grateful, it isn't him.

You consider the words seriously instead of taking the bait.

Had you?

"I've learned to appreciate the life that I have, rather than the one I used to wish I had," You say. You can feel the attention of the others burning on you, and it makes your skin crawl. Their judgment is like a heavy blanket over the room, and its almost suffocating. But still, the words pour out of you, too honest, too raw.

"I'm the only person who can do what I do, and the only person who can see the world from my perspective. Wishing and hoping for things to be different is pointless- it's pathetic."

No one says anything, so you continue, trying to explain further how you feel. Maybe you hope that you can convince someone here to see their game in a new light. Maybe you just need to say the words have have been stuck in your throat for so long.

"I am who I am. I'm the person I love and the person I hate. Good, bad. It doesn't really matter. I don't care anymore, and I'm so tired of making excuses for being myself."

The room sits in quiet silence, until finally, Daniel Matthews speaks up for the first time in the session.

"But do you know... who that is? Yourself?"

The version of you in your mind's eye- the version from the forest lake with the jagged metal crown- looks at you and grins with teeth.

Your words in response seem to be carried by an incoming chill.

"I think I'm figuring it out."

---

You're not sure what you expected, but a house in the suburbs is not it.

"I'm renovating it, so careful where you step," Mark says, leading you through the front door with a hand on your waist. "Would be a hell of a waste if you died tripping over a brick."

"Hey, you're not allowed to make fun of me for being blind," You reply back, without any real venom. His hand squeezes your waist, playful but dominant.

"Who said anything about you being blind? I was talking about your two left feet." You jab him in the side with your elbow, and he chuckles to himself, pulling you along with him.

It feels altogether domestic- far easier than it has any right to feel. You can imagine a life together, in this home. Taxes and fighting over chores and going on trips. Putting on music as the sun goes down, brewing coffee in the mornings as it rises. You allow yourself the indulgence of it, for just a moment.

The house smells like sawdust and paint, but there's a metallic undercurrent of blood. It's hard to tell if that scent is really there, or if it's just something your mind has picked up on, independent of your objective reality. Mark seems to lead you on forever, around too many corners to count.

There it is again, that sixth sense nagging at you. Something bad happened here. Something bad will happen here. Layers of pain, like the rings in the centre of a tree. You think back to Daniel Matthews, and his nervous, angry energy. So much like his father's, but still so different.

The coffin of glass swallows the target, but he doesn't know what it means. He thinks he is safe inside, but he is wrong. The walls are closing in on him, not his opponent, who is pulled through to the heavens. This isn't how its supposed to happen.

"Is this place a maze? What kind of architect designed this?" You mutter, as Mark stops walking and crouches down beside you. You tap your cane around, noticing a hollow sound ringing from part of the floor.

"Probably John. The layout's a nightmare. But the place is huge. It'll be nice, once its fixed up." Mark responds, and you hear a loud thud. "It's a trap door," he explains.

"Great," You reply, "Always a good sign."

Mark helps you through the trapdoor and down a ladder. Your tentative movements take time, but if he's annoyed by your slow pace, he doesn't complain. Once you're down the ladder, you reach out with your mind's eye, and survey your surroundings.

It is much colder, down here, somehow. Something bothers you about it, like an open sore in the back of the mouth.

"Hey, where are you going?"

You don't realize you're walking away until you hear Mark's voice, calling after you. Something is drawing you in like a beacon. It feels, suddenly, like you're on the cusp of completing something important, something you'd nearly forgotten about.

Drawn through the cold, damp, narrow tunnels, you somehow know instinctively which ways to turn. You don't trip, or run into walls, but keep moving, deeper into the dark. Until finally, you feel yourself stop in front of... something.

Reaching forward, you grasp the bars of a cell.

"Somewhere deep and dark. Low, inside the earth," you echo your words from weeks ago now, and hear a low, guttural groan in response.

Poor Eric Matthews, more animal than man by now.

"Yeah, he's not doing so great," Mark whispers in your ear, having followed after you. You get a brief flash of vision- Mark grabbing Eric by the hair, grown matted and shaggy, and dragging him back as he sobs and claws at the ground. Mark, punching him heavy in the stomach, throwing slop at his feet.

He hated it, at first. Then he grew to relish it.

Pure horror settles in you, uneasy in your stomach.

"Why... keep him?" You ask hollowly, feeling Mark's arm around your waist again, territorial.

"Kramer wants him for the next game," He replies, too quiet for Matthews to hear, "Needs him as an incentive. You know how bad the precinct wants to save him. Hell, it's why you're here in the first place."

"Is someone out there? Help me-" Matthews pleads, his voice broken, "P-please-" Your mouth is dry. You'd been brought in to save this man, and now here he was, begging for help in front of you.

"Huh. So he does remember how to speak," Mark mutters. Part of you wants to reach out, to comfort Matthews, to lie badly to him and tell him it will be alright.

But this is what it is. Open wounds, dirty basements, and pain like the refrain of a prayer. The maw of Hell itself. This is what it means, to be a part of this.

To be partners with Detective Mark Hoffman.

You jump in surprise at a sudden, loud clang- Mark has grabbed your cane, and slammed it against the rusted bars of the cell. You hear whimpering, as Eric Matthews seems to retreat. You take a few steps back, away from the cell, closing your eyes as if it will help.

"It gets easier," Mark tells you, "I know, I know. It's alright to be uncertain. Too feel sick about it. I was at first, too."

You swallow, and nod. He presses his lips to your temple, in a gentle gesture, and continues to soothe you with honeyed words.

"Don't worry. No one's going to find out. You and me, we do this together. We help each other. Right?"

You nod again, and he kisses you, on the lips this time. It's almost forceful, as though by the action alone, he can make you forget your conscience.

"Come on," He says, "Lemme show you the bathroom."

---

Although you've never set foot in this room before in your life, you feel as though you're returning back to a place you grew up in. It has an air of nostalgia about it that's almost uncanny, like a place you've dreamt about a million times, but can't quite map the layout of.

Frankly, it's kind of fucking creepy in here.

The smells of decaying bodies doesn't help. It's unmistakable, almost sweet in its rot, and you clasp a hand over your mouth as you grimace.

"You're renovating, but you couldn't take out the bodies?" You ask, fighting the urge to gag.

"Yeah, let me just carry them to my car," Mark snipes back, and you suppose he has a point. "I don't really come down here. But hey, do your thing." You hear the scrape of a chair, and wonder- is he pulling up a seat?

With a deep breath, you calm your nerves, and try to dial in to your extrasensory perception. The first task you'd been given- find Eric Matthews- has been completed. The second- find the secret apprentice- has not. That's your goal, and the reason you came here. You know that this place has the answers you seek. The walls bleed with them.

You sense Mark, somewhere behind you, curious and sharp. But you need to reach something older. Glass crunches under your boots, and you slowly pace the room, stepping carefully as not to trip over anything.

Then, you catch hold of something. Before you can understand what you're doing, you're crouching in front of one of the bodies, taking his bony, brittle face into your hands. The skin is like tissue paper under your touch.

"Oh, Adam," You murmur to him softly, "How unfair. He didn't follow his own rules for you, did he?"

"Are you... talking to the corpse?" Mark asks, an edge of disgust in his voice.

You ignore him. The corpse doesn't speak, of course, but he answers you in his own way.

"He promised," you hear your voice saying, an echo from a thousand miles away, "He promised he'd come back to save him. A Knight in shining armour. But he never did. He dies down here, missing his mother and wondering if he'll ever see her again. He dies over and over again. He exists as a ghost, haunting the third. The fourth? The secret one, the guilty one, the one who got away."

You hold the skull delicately, with a care not to disturb him. Of course, he's just a body. Just a shell. But before that-

You smell cigarette smoke, hear the click of a camera snapping a shot. Despair, fear, loneliness. Despondency, hope. Bitterness, so much resentment. A cell phone ringing, a hacksaw, tearing into flesh, pain, pain-

"Who was tested in here?" You ask Mark, letting go of the body and standing. The room spins around you, seems to pulse in the darkness. You get the impression of patterns, swirling about- the kind you can read and understand, that you can use to tell the future, if you just focus. You wipe your hands on your pants.

"That guy," Mark replies, presumably pointing to Adam, "We strung up another guy in here at one point. And Matthew's game ended up in here, with the kid and Amanda."

"Who was with Adam?" The answer is so close to you. For some reason, you think of the Jigsaw survivor group, and briefly wonder if the secret apprentice is Daniel Matthews. It partially seems to fit, but your intuition suggests that guess is off base.

"A doctor, I think. We planted his pen light. I think he ended up surviving. What the hell was his name...?" As Mark thinks, the answer comes to you, bold, in flashing neon lights.

"Doctor Gordon," you whisper. You ankle aches in confirmation.

"That was it," Mark replies, and then he pauses. "Him?"

"Him."

"You're sure?"

You see a blonde man, pale and sickly looking, crawling away as blood pours from the stump of his leg. It flows like paint spilling from an overturned tub, until the man presses it to a boiling pipe. Flesh melts and blood coagulates. He survives.

He survives. But he is alone. He has no one else but the ghosts, and the King, omnipotent in his wisdom, sees a subject in the making. A knight to stand guard, to protect the most valuable pieces. To save, when he could not save before.

"I'm sure," You reply, and you are. You hear Mark stand up from his seat.

"What now?" He asks, walking back over to you, "Do we...confront him? Ask Kramer about him?"

It's curious, you think, that he's asking for your opinion now. But you shake your head.

"No," You answer. You've never felt so sure of something in your life. The impressions of the patterns spell out hints to you, show a chessboard with its pieces, ready for play.

"No, we sit on this. We'll need him, later. We don't let anyone else know that we know," You say and you hear Mark make a small hum of contemplation.

"We'll need him?" He asks, a note of skepticism in his voice, and you nod.

"I don't know how yet. But I can feel it. Trust me on this?" You ask. He sighs.

"You haven't been wrong yet," He replies, and you smile at him in thanks. The pieces are coming into focus now, starting to settle into place. John Kramer has been lining up these dominoes for half a decade.

And you can sense what's coming. Your sight will be your survival. You catch the sound of a buzz, coming from where Mark stands.

"It's John. He wants to meet with you again, one-on-one," Mark says then, and you hazard a guess that he's looking at his phone. Does John Kramer know how to text?

"When?" You ask back. Your intuition tells you this will be important- that it might be the last time you see Kramer, face to face. He's a tyrant, his dark shadow looming over you and Mark, and you know in your soul that even when he's dead, that isn't going to change.

"Now. You ready?"

You hope that you are. You think of Eric Matthews, rotting in the dark; and Daniel Matthews, living in the day. You think of Adam, resigned to the depths to die alone, and Ned, who survived to scoff at the notion of gratitude.

It makes you sick, and not out of guilt.

--

A/N- A bit plot heavy, but since I actually know where this is going now, I'm actually laying down the building blocks for the end! Thank you for waiting, I'm a bit nervous about this chapter so if you liked it, please leave a review <3

TAG LIST: @icarusinstatic @honimello @haven-is-happy @karmaswitch @the-jester-calamity @teamhawkeye @thebrideofcaliban @mjrkime @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @mrs-hotforhoffman @aliengutzstuff

[rebel-at-heart713]

Some of my favorite quotes from “Percy Jackson and the Chalice of the Gods.

1. “Look, I didn't want to be a high school senior. I was hoping my dad could write me a note:

Dear Whoever,

Please excuse Percy Jackson from school forever and just give him the diploma.

Thanks, Poseidon”

Already starting off strong I see.

2. “ My second thought was: Why do the gods keep losing their magic items? It was like a job requitement for them:

1) become a god, 2) get a cool magic thing, 3) lose it,

4) ask a demigod to find it. Maybe they just enjoyed doing it, the way cats like knocking things off tables.”

Percy still has his snark I see.

3. “I am a guy of limited talents. If I can't kill it with water, a sword, or sarcasm, I am basically defenseles. I come preloaded with sarcasm. The pen-sword is always in my pocket. Now I had access to water, so I was as prepared as I could ever be.”

See even he knows his sarcasm is a weapon.

4. “A shiver ran across my shoulders. The last thing the world needed was boomers aging backward, like, We enjoyed monopolizing the planet so much the first time, we're going to do it again!”

Too true!!

5. “ "Do I get to say this is a terrible idea, too?" Grover asked.

"Just do your best," Annabeth said. "You're the fastest runner. You're also the only one who speaks Chicken."

"Technically Chicken isn't a distinct language," he said, "though many animal dialects sound just like Chicken…”

"Dude, just yell at them," I suggested "Do you any fowl insults?"

"This is a family amusement center!"

"Where they are trying to kill us for complaining

"Good point," Grover said. "I will insult the chickens” “

This chaotic conversation. Another for the unhinged moments like the Dam scene.

6. “I also didn't want to die, but at least if I got killed down here, Annabeth would feel really bad about pushing me. Then I could tease her about it forever.

Except I'd be dead. Never mind.”

Love that.

7. “—and also how the kite had gotten zapped by lightning (in the middle of a sunny day) as soon as it was airborne. Even back then, before I knew I was a demigod, Zeus had been watching me. Because that's what you do when you're the king of the gods. You spend your valuable time being as petty as possible, frying forbidden kids' kites out of the sky for fun.”

Of course Zeus is a petty bitch.

8. “I remembered learning about some Norse wolf named Garm, but I wasn't the Mighty Thor, so I didn't want to cross that particular Rainbow Bridge. I had enough to worry about on the Greek side.”

The nice little nod to the Magnus Chase series before he knows it’s a thing.

I added these to my notes as I read this when it came out. I wanted to give some time before posting it. I’ll still mark spoilers even though I don’t think these give much away.

[jwirecs]

RECOMMENDED NCT FICS OF SEPTEMBER 2023💖

hello, hello! here are my nct recs of september! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

Body Language || @badalivie💕✅

↳ You and Donghyuck have been dance partners for the past 6 years. When he gets into an accident that costs him a competition and substitutes himself with another dancer, he realizes he’s not so open at all to having you dance with someone else, especially having their hands in the places he considered his.

Forget Him || @smileysuh🔞💕✅💯

↳ “What if… what if I helped you out a little?” His words hang in the air, and your room feels thick with tension. You’re acutely aware of the toy still pressed between your thighs. “Look,” Hyuck says, voice softer, “I hate seeing you cry- but seeing you cry about something good might make us both feel better.”

Getting Even || @ofjunemoment🔞💕✅💯💯 (pt.2)

↳ Haechan is notorious for his pranks. Who can forget about the one time the campus fountain was bleeding red? You were weary of never getting on his wrong side, but when you get to know him better, it seems like behind all that front he's a sweet and caring guy. That is until you get a bucket of water dunked on you straight after he promised he wouldn't pull something on you. You're not only pissed that he had fooled you like this, but that he chose such a simple prank.

Inseparable Friend || @lovesuhng💕💔✅💯

↳ johnny was your best friend and platonic love during his high school days, but he left without even saying goodbye. 10 years later, you meet again at the class of 2013 reunion. do you still feel the same way about your former best friend? how about giving him another chance?

Operation Rizz || @acescavern💕✅

↳ In an attempt to teach Donghyuck how to get a girlfriend, Jaemin helps him make a list only... that list seems awfully familiar.

34 + 35 || @karinasbaby🔞✅

↳ in which jaemin decides to finally return back home after spending an entire day at practice (with a surprise).

Glitter || @kyufessions💕✅

↳ you walk in on your daughter giving your fiancé a makeover

Good Morning, Baby || @daydreamingyuta💕✅

↳ waking up with boyfriend!mark

The Bottom || @donkey-hyuck💕💔✅💯

↳ getting into a relationship when you were at the lowest point of your life dragged you down to the bottom. but it dragged the ones you loved as well.

(♥️) || @nctsplug02🔞💕✅💯💯

↳ (dilf!johnny next door is a sin. a wonderful 6 foot sin.)

Animal Instinct || @onyourhyuck🔞💕��💯

↳ You are a marine biologist. You should be able to understand animals and their way of living. When you encounter a new society in a bar under the name ‘Sour Grapes’ you find yourself in a troubling situation with seven different men. Seven different animals.

Cookie Jar || @neopuppy🔞✅

↳ (there wasnt a definite summary, but i dont really read any stepcest au's....however....this one...casually...slipped....in. PSA if you arent comfortable with reading any like stepcest type of fics, then this might not be for you, BUT if you dont mind reading one stepcest fic once in a while, then...i recommend you casually...read this one.)

Do You like It, Dr. Lee? || @revehae🔞✅💯💯

↳ haechan, jaemin, and jeno are some of the brightest, most accomplished students in your class that never fail to make high marks on the exams. but when they approach you one day in your office, your perspective of them changes dramatically. (oh heaven have mercy istfg)

Mark Me In Your Heart || @ohmytyong🔞💔✅

↳ when a sensitive and broken heart meets another one of the same nature, their instinctive reaction is to seek comfort in each other, and in order to heal themselves, they both need to be equally strong and willing to put all their broken pieces back together. but sometimes, some hearts aren’t strong enough to be saved; the only way to save them is if the stronger heart of the two is willing to take the risk and try for the both of them, whatever it takes.

Neighbor || @jaehyunssi💕✅

↳ after breaking up with your boyfriend, you spent hours crying in the middle of the night. your loud and nonstop cries made mark knocks your door to find out what’s going on

Persimmon Problems || @starsstuddedsky💕💔✅

↳ fantasy crushes are all fun and games until it stops being a fantasy and he’s really talking to you. but what are you supposed to do when he invades every part of your life?

Ric Flair Drip || @jnnul🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ HONESTLY, NOTHING ABOUT JUNG JAEHYUN IS REMOTELY APPEALING TO YOU. you hate the perfect boy act he puts on, you hate his need to impress everyone and everything, and you really fucking hated his dick.

Shoplifter || @augustinbluex🔞✅

↳ when you got caught stealing in a sex shop, you thought you'd earn another lecture from your stepdad. however, the lesson was not what you’d excepted

NCT Dream Texts || @nctstar💕💔✅

↳ you overhear them say you're clingy

NCT Dream Texts || @marklease💕✅

↳ dreamies texting that you forgot something at their place

NCT Dream Texts || @marklease💕✅

↳ throwing up in their car after a date (stop, jisung would be the one to sympathy gag with you, i cant. where is the lie to that)

NCT Dream Texts || @xrenjunniesx💕✅

↳ when you get lost (as someone who sucks with like maps and following/reading maps i can relate.)

Do check out all of the other NCT Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **