#you’re right I haven’t drawn a lot of humans lately!!!

[royaltea000]

If it's any reassurance

I'd say you've definitely improved, it's just you've neither drawn the monkey man without him clothes to show off your anatomy skills + his furry aaa self will hide details. The recent humans you've drawn show your arts grown, your face shapings have gotten more natural I'd say!!! Your coloring alone is so clean, your art is so vibrant and gorgeous I love it! It reminds me of fondant and I love fondant aha! Your shading is so cool ☆3☆✨️

Oddo I’m actually gonna cry that’s so sweet of you to say 😭💕 thank you so much!!! It’s always really interesting to me whenever I hear someone else describe my art style - fondant huh.. I never thought of it that way! :P

[ohnococo]

Any Time, Any Place | Ino x Reader

Another date with Ino ends in fucking somewhere you could easily get caught.

❥ WC: 1.7k

❥ Warnings: Established relationship, fem bodied reader (no pronouns used, reader is in a dress), public sex, outdoor sex, vaginal sex, making out, creampie, petnames (baby, reader is told they are pretty and perfect)

Ino is the type of person that always makes you feel comfortable, like it’s just the two of you no matter where you are. That’s why, despite his occasional step into more traditional date night territories like fancy restaurants, you always wind up preferring the more casual nights with him. Late night chats as you amble along city pavements, a drink and a laugh on his balcony, hands all over each other in some random parking lot because you just had to find somewhere to stop and feed your whims.

He just has a knack for finding these wide open spaces and managing to make them feel so intimate and private. No matter how many times it happens, it still has a dizzying effect on you. Like you’re already in too deep before you even realise it, and the moment has passed from casual to something more in the blink of an eye, leaving you both on the same page of needing each other no matter your surroundings. Those moments leave you feeling eternally like some lovesick teen, caught up in everything but logic. The fact that he very much seems to feel the same leaves you with no chance of worrying about anything but the two of you, together.

You still haven’t figured out if he means for you two to wind up testing the limits of what you can get away with in public so often, but whether it’s intentional or Ino just being hopelessly enamoured with you, the result is far from unwelcome.

Because with Ino, only his eyes matter—even if at this particular location you can’t help taking a peek around the park bench you two had settled on to enjoy the warm summer night. He notices your glances, because he always notices if you aren’t completely comfortable, and is quick to check in and reassure you.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe with me.” He smiles, arms out and palms upward as if presenting himself to you to be assessed as an appropriate bodyguard, and when you laugh his smile only widens as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“It’s not that, I’m just looking out for geese.”

It’s his turn to laugh now as he’s reminded of the memory of a daytime picnic in this very park that ended with an encounter with a very aggressive goose.

“They’ll be sleeping over by the pond. And, I’d fight any curse or attacker brave enough to bother us.” His confidence falters a little, as he recalls how fleeing had been the route chosen the last time he’d had an opportunity to defend you. “I just didn’t really want to hurt a goose, y’know?”

“A goose wouldn’t hesitate to hurt you.”

“And it did hurt me…” he feigns a look of pain, or embarrassment, but you know he isn’t really feeling either. He’s as comfortable with you as he always hopes you’ll be with him.

“You survived. You always do.” You press into his side and he holds you close, squeezing at your arm protectively.

Then he gives you another of his disarming smiles and it’s the last curtain drawn over any worries of passerby, human or fowl or otherwise. With that, this place is just for the two of you right now, so you focus on him fully and start to veer back onto the track of your previous conversation, only to be immediately stopped when Ino starts giving you that look and you know he wants to kiss you now.

The way he manages to look both far off and like he’s taking in every minute detail of your face at once makes your heart race, and his gaze drifts towards your mouth only to be pulled back to your eyes as he tries his very best to be attentive. And really, he is—always listening, always interested in whatever you’re talking about just because it’s you. It’s just sometimes his body gets the better of his brain. Not that you mind.

“Sorry, but…”

You raise your brows, smile growing on your face as you know exactly what he’s getting at, but you enjoy watching him try to reckon with how badly he needs to touch you sometimes.

He lets out a huff, more of a laugh at himself than any sign of frustration, and uses the arm around your shoulders to pull you closer with a soft sigh of, “C’mere.”

Whatever was happening before is long gone now, as his soft lips against yours always seal the deal. He’s slow, and sweet with his kisses, even if his body telegraphs his sudden desperation. Nose brushing against yours, one hand firm on your shoulder, the other rubbing much more gently at your thigh, lips parting from yours every so often so he can smile to himself and look at how pretty you are when you let him touch you like this. His tongue swipes against your lower lip, and from first contact your mouth is already opening with the positive response he always earns from you.

As always, you forget yourselves; where you are, what you came here for, how long you’ve had his lips against yours. And as always, Ino starts slotting words between your kisses, little breathy ramblings of ’please’, ’you’re so pretty’, ’need it’.

It makes your head spin and your pussy clench all in one, and when he next brings himself to part his lips from yours, the look he gives you is the final straw to break your composure entirely. Happy, drunk almost, like there’s nothing in the world he wants more than your body, like he just might perish if he doesn’t get it.

And as you look in his eyes, glistening under the stars as he manages to be so desperate for it that he’s a little misty-eyed, you realise that the feeling is mutual. Next thing you know, you’re pulling your dress up and climbing onto his lap.

“Already, baby?” He never shies away from an opportunity to meet you with mouth or hand, wanting you to get yours before you’ve even started touching him, but you answer with your actions—and your intentions of riding him until the warm night air knows his name.

You slide back far enough on his knees that he can work his cock out of his pants as you pull your panties to the side. If you were thinking clearly you’d be worried about how it wasn’t really that late at night, and some other nighttime walkers could easily happen upon you. But you aren’t thinking clearly, and neither is Ino, so you raise yourself onto your knees and slide down onto his cock.

He lets out a hiss, looking up at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world, and once you’re settled fully onto him he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and burying his face in your chest.

“Babyyyyy, you’re so perfect.” His voice is muffled, but you make out his words well enough to chuckle at them. The way it makes you clench around him makes him whine into your skin, starting to rut up into you.

For as desperate as his words against your breasts are, and how his hands squeeze and rub along the contours of your back, his thrusts are slow. The embrace he holds you in serves to help him lift you, just slightly, and he gasps at losing even a little of your warmth, before he’s rocking up into you and pulling you back down on him in tandem. Once you pick up the pace he’s set, taking over movements entirely as you speed up with your panting breaths, his face unburies itself from your chest, and he looks out of it already.

“You make it so hard to keep quiet…”

At this point you’d forgotten you were even in a place that would require such a thing, but far past caring you rock your hips faster, running your fingers through his hair and letting a few unhindered moans loose.

“I don’t want you to be quiet.”

“Oh?” He looks like you’ve just told him you love him, surprised and happy with bolstered confidence. That lopsided grin of his goes straight to your core, and when you clench at him again he lets his own unrestrained sound loose.

That’s that then, all the go ahead you both need to pant and whine and moan into each other’s open mouths. It’s as if your bodies act on their own, holding each other, loving each other, and true to your silently and suddenly laid plans when you first climbed atop Ino, you cry out his name as you start to struggle keeping your pace as your body tightens and aches to finally reach its peak.

The sound of his name from your lips is all he needs though, meeting your movements half way, kissing at your cheeks and chin, anywhere that will let him keep hearing you say his name, until you’re both seeing stars at once. His hands grip your waist tightly, bunching up your dress as he whines against your skin and fills you with sloppy thrusts, and you cling to him tightly, tugging at his shirt and squeezing him til he’s spent.

He buries his face between your breasts again, nuzzling, his breath much more humid than the night air, and as you come down from your highs the sounds of the wind in the trees reminds you of where you are, and that you should perhaps not linger in such a state.

It doesn’t stop Ino from whining a little when you move from his lap, quickly moving your panties back into place to hopefully catch as much of his cum as you can. Likewise he tucks himself away, leaning heavily against the back of the bench, and when you start to stand he grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and pulling you back down next to him.

“Let’s chill here for a bit, we don’t look like we’ve been up to anything.”

You don’t, not after you straighten your dress and lean against his side. You reckon he doesn’t either once you quickly reach up to comb your fingers through his hair back into place. Then you rest your head against his shoulder, content, safe, in your own little world with your boyfriend.

banners by @//cafekitsune

[marvelmusing]

I have no idea why but I’m kinda obsessed with the idea of being hunted in a maze lately 🙃 I know you’ve written at least one of these kinds of stories .. or Chelsea has? Anyways, just sharing because I have no one else to tell hahaha.

Lost in You is one of Chelsea’s maze fics (I have a feeling there might be another one but that’s the one I was thinking of when you said maze)

But here’s what I’m thinking….

Twisted Games

Pairing: Vampire!Billy Russo x Fem!Reader

Summary: Billy loves to play games, and with his advantages as a vampire, he always wins.

[Warnings]: soft dark!Billy, vampire!Billy, kidnapping, blood consumption, mentions of death and violence, hypnotism, dub con/non con elements, lots of praise kink, dark!reader twist at the end, vampire master/human relationship

A/N: sorry if this was darker than what you expected, I had a lot of different maze ideas but this one won the majority of my thoughts

»»---------------------►

Imagine vampire Billy buying a big country house in the middle of nowhere and hosting a housewarming party for all his friends.

For the entertainment, he kidnaps a selection of humans for them all to hunt down in the maze that sits on his grounds.

Each human has a ribbon tied onto them, with a colour that corresponds with each of the vampire guests.

The blindfold is pulled away from your eyes as Billy explains the game to his friends. Blinking up at him, a shiver runs down your spine as you remember how his eyes had drawn you in, luring you into this mess.

Looking down quickly, you see the deep red ribbon tied neatly around your bare ankle. The same red as the velvet tie he’s wearing. Then you hear one of them remark,

“Of course you’d keep the best one for yourself, Russo.”

Glancing up again, you find them all looking down at you hungrily and fear prickles over your skin.

He explains the rules to you all.

No cheating. If you want to get out, you have to reach the edge of the maze. Once you’re out, none of them are allowed to hurt you. Vampires can team up if they want to, but are not allowed to hurt a human that isn’t theirs.

They give the humans a five minute head start, grinning as they watch you all scramble into the maze.

You stick with a girl around your age who shakily introduces herself as Zoe. She holds tightly onto your hand, flinching at every sound.

Having someone with you helps you to stay strong and focus on getting out, instead of the charming vampire that had lured you here that will soon be descending upon you.

When you spot a gap in the bushes, you move towards it, intending on making a shortcut. Zoe doesn’t move.

“He said to follow the rules,” she protests.

You tug on her arm.

“They’re vampires!” you hiss frantically. “Who knows what they can do to catch us, we need every advantage we can get.”

She shakes her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. Whilst hate the thought of abandoning her, every instinct inside you is telling you to keep moving.

Something is closing in.

She yanks her arm from your hold, shaking her head again and running away. You duck into the gap and walk briskly down the path, taking a quick left then a right.

Zoe’s scream has you freezing in place. There’s a sickening snap and your breathing halts as tears fill your eyes. You’re going to be okay. You’ll be okay. Keep moving. You’ll be okay.

You repeat that mantra over and over in your mind, but the sound of Zoe’s scream had rattled your fraying nerves. Legs shaking, you wander helplessly for what seems like an eternity.

Every now and then you’ll hear cries and screams of pain and fear as the other vampires find their targets. But yours hasn’t yet.

He’s playing with you. You know he is.

It’s only when you run into your fourth dead end in a row, feeling utterly trapped, that you turn around and see him.

He observes your tear stained face and trembling body as your heart rate spikes with fear.

“Oh baby. You’ve worked yourself up into quite a state haven’t you?” he teases with a soft voice that makes you ache for some semblance of comfort, even if he’s mocking you.

As he steps closer, you squeeze your eyes shut. You can’t fight him, or outrun him. Shutting your eyes is the only way you can protect yourself from his hypnotic gaze.

He laughs.

When his fingers curl around your bare forearms, you flinch despite his gentle touch. He shushes you gently and you whimper.

“Easy, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

That almost has you opening your eyes to study his expression and figure out if he’s being genuine. The warmth of his body sends a tingle up your spine as he steps closer.

Dressed in only a small black dress, you hadn’t realised how cold you were running around in the chill of night. His lips brush against your temple as he whispers,

“Not unless you want me to.”

After a moment of silence, as he traces his nose over your hairline, he sighs.

“Can you open your eyes for me, baby?” When you shake your head resolutely he breathes out a small laugh. “No? But I wanna see those gorgeous eyes again.”

“You’re not doing that to me again,” you state firmly, despite how much you’re shaking.

“You didn’t like it?” He almost sounds concerned. Then he nuzzles his face against your cheek, drawing a shudder to the surface of your skin. “You seemed to like it. I know I did.”

“I didn’t,” you whisper weakly, your resolve crumbling already.

“No?” His tone is mocking and you can feel him smirking against your skin. “Cause you were having a horrible night ‘til I turned up.”

Pulling together some courage, you retort,

“Then it got worse.”

“Naughty,” he chastises you, taking your earlobe between his teeth. “Be good for me.”

Exhaling shakily, you press your lips together as another tear slides down your cheek. He captures it with a soft brush of his knuckle.

“You were all on your lonesome. Left by your friends, and none of them even noticed that you didn’t wanna be at that club.”

“Get out of my head,” you plead.

“I’m not in your head, baby. I just know a lost little girl when I see one.”

He feels you tense violently when a distant scream reaches your ears, which encourages him to pull you into his arms and press your face against his chest.

You’re stunned for a long moment, but tentatively wrap your arms around him. Soon you’re clinging to the front of his suit, staining the material with your tears as you whimper.

He pets the back of your head.

“I know baby, I know you’re scared.”

He’s the reason why you’re scared, but he’s also your only source of comfort at the moment. His fingers thread carefully through your hair and the warmth of his body eases some of the tension in your chest as you breathe in his scent.

A clear crisp cologne, fresh flowers and a sweet wine. In contrast, you must smell awful. Sweaty and frighted, mud caking over your feet.

“I can rid of that fear for you, replace it with something nice. Something sweet and soft and mindless,” he suggests.

He presses a delicate kiss to the top of your head, and the warmth of it runs down your neck and through your spine.

“I know you liked it the first time,” he whispers, as if sharing a secret with you.

Cupping the back of your head, he tilts your face up towards him.

“You just gotta open those eyes for me, baby. I’ll make it all okay for you.”

Your eyes flutter open slightly but that’s all it takes. His eyes lock on yours and you immediately struggle away from him, already feeling your self control melting under the weight of his dark eyes.

“No, no please.”

He shushes you, holding you tight in his arms as you push weakly at him. You can’t look away from his eyes.

“Good girl.” He smiles. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He shakes his head, and you copy him slightly, a dazed quality already entering your gaze. He runs his hands soothingly over your body with an approving hum.

“Gonna taste so much better without all that adrenaline in you.”

You whimper in protest.

“You- you said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“It ain’t gonna hurt, as long as you’re a good girl and hold still for me,” he explains slowly, as if he’s speaking to a child. “Okay?”

Every second you sink deeper under his control, and you nod weakly without any prior thought of disagreeing with him. He smiles and your stomach flutters at the sight.

Then he tilts your head back slightly before he takes on an authoritative tone,

“I’m gonna drink now, and you’re gonna stay relaxed for me.”

When his fangs sink into the delicate skin of your throat, your vision swims and you cling to him weakly. His groans reach your ears over the ringing there and warmth spreads through your body at the sound of him enjoying himself.

As he pulls away, the sharp air hits you hard and stars sparkle over your vision. Then everything goes dark.

»»---------------------►

You wake with your head on Billy’s thigh, his hand smoothing carefully over your hair. The fire crackles softly in the hearth, and it’s warmth glows over your clean skin as you lie on the sofa in his bedroom. Billy must have washed you afterwards.

“Master?” you mumble sleepily, lifting your head slightly to see Billy sitting shirtless beside you. He squeezes the back of your neck gently.

“I’m here, baby.”

“What happened?”

“You passed out,” he informs you before his tone turns scolding, “I told you to eat something before we started playing.”

Slowly, you manage to pull yourself up as you look away sheepishly and admit,

“Was too excited.”

He hums disapprovingly and you pout at the sight of his frown before you breathe out a small apology. Billy’s face softens slightly.

“You did well tonight.” Warmth fills you as you snuggle into his side. “Our guests enjoyed their hunt, and I couldn’t have gotten some of those humans without you.”

His praise has you sighing happily and you drop a line of kisses along his collarbone in appreciation.

“Thank you, Master.”

He presses a kiss against your forehead and you yawn as you nestle yourself against his warm chest. As you begin to drift away into sleep, Billy traces shapes down the length of your bare back. Before you drop off, you manage to mumble,

“Next time, can we play hide and seek?”

He chuckles darkly. Billy never thought he’d find a partner that shares his love of twisted games, but you never fail to please him.

“Of course we can.”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch

Billy Russo Tag List: @blackbirddaredevil23 @rafaelakelley @theysayitscrazy @nyx2021 @skybridgerton @dragon-of-winterfell @chickensarentcheap @stardustmorozov @sweetwritingfanficfriend @witchcraftandwit @ladyofsoa

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny

[ostrichchariot]

It’s dirty, cold, and damp, on the roof.

Rosamund has slept in worse places, though. Given what she saw yesterday, it looks as though Gerard has, too.

That doesn’t make it much better. Perhaps, in a way, it makes it worse.

It’s still early. Only the two of them are awake, and by silent agreement they’ve moved to sit by the edge of the roof – far enough away as to not wake the others, but not so far that they could be seen from below.

The sun is crawling sluggishly up behind the thick pillars of smoke that never seem to stop or slow. For now, though, they sit alone in the dark.

She glances over at him. He’s staring out across the city. For someone so expressive, he can be incredibly hard to read at times. She suspects it’s something to do with the frog features.

After a moment, he looks back at her, and tilts his head to the side in lieu of raising a non-existent eyebrow. “Is something bothering you?” He asks quietly.

She looks away, slightly embarrassed. “Oh, not really.”

In the corner of her vision, she sees him look a little confused, then shrug. “Ok, if you’re sure.”

…She had been hoping he would press further, although she supposes she can’t blame him for not knowing that.

They sit in silence for a while longer, Rosamund trying to find the right words for what she wants to ask. Eventually she gives up, and just says it.

“You turned back into a human because she loved you, right?” She asks, still not quite looking at him.

He almost flinches. “I- what? Sorry? What?” He gives her a nervous, searching look.

She turns to face him and repeats the question, levelly. “You turned back into a human, because she loved you. Right?”

“Well- well because she kissed me, really- or I suppose technically here it’s because she threw me against a wall and broke all my bones, but I’ve not been thinking about that- and it’s not exactly- I mean- there’s a bit more to it than-.”

She watches him carefully, and he stutters to a halt.

“…Yes. Yes, she did lo- I. I did. Turn back. Because of that. Yes.”

“So-” She pauses, unsure of how to phrase it delicately. “Does that mean she…” She trails off, gaze dropping down to his webbed hands, then being drawn back up to his round, red eyes.

This time it’s him who looks away, drawing back slightly with a short laugh that’s not really a laugh. “Oh, you know. I did mention that my marriage was falling apart, didn’t I?”

She goes to touch his arm then stops. Pulls back. His shoulders slump very slightly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Not really.” She says delicately. “I just- I suppose I didn’t really think about it before, but it doesn’t seem very fair.”

His expression twists into one she can’t quite read. “Oh. Does it not?” He asks, a sharp edge of something in his voice. “Do you think so?”

“I do.” She replies earnestly. “I’ve heard a lot about true love, all my life. Even more so, lately. It seems wrong to me that you haven’t been given a choice.”

He turns to face her again at that, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

She looks sideways into the dark of the night, and back. “You know how in my story, I was supposed to sleep until my true love found me?”

He looks uncomfortable, but nods slowly. “Yes.”

“It’s odd.” She says. “If I hadn’t woken up… I can’t imagine knowing that without true love, I would sleep forever.” She flexes the hand that touched the spindle. “Not now I know you can find true love, and loose it again. Not now I know these curses aren’t ever truly lifted.”

“Ah.” He says. “Well. You say that, but it’s not as though it’s really her choice, either. You know?”

She frowns at him. “I suppose.”

“She never asked to be responsible for that, and I was never going to say anything.”

“But why not?!” It bursts out of her, unbidden. “Don’t you want her to love you? No- don’t you need her to love you?”

He takes a moment before he answers, then speaks with a deep conviction. “Of course I do. Want her to, that is. That doesn’t mean I think I deserve it. Or- well, I mean. That doesn’t mean I’ve… earned it, I suppose?” He frowns, and shakes his head. “What I’m trying to say is that no matter how much I want it, it's not something I have any right to expect. To… demand.” That last word is said as though it’s disgusting in his mouth. Which, given that she’s seen him eat spiders, is quite something.

Rosamund stares at the soot stained roof between them. “But it doesn’t matter if she asked to be responsible for this. She is. Doesn’t that make it her fault that-”

“No!” She looks up, startled. She’s never heard him sound so passionate before, except perhaps when they spoke to the Fairy with Turquoise Hair. “No. It’s not. Don’t say that. It’s not her fault that I- it’s not her fault. It was- other things, and, and…” He trails off, looking, suddenly, defeated. “Me. It was mostly me, actually, now that I think about it.”

“Oh.” A strong gust of wind makes them both shiver, and blows some remnants of smoke over that sting her eyes.

It’s quiet.

“You know,” She says, “If she’s half as good as you seem to think she is, she would feel responsible, whether you want her to or not. I know I would, if I were her.”

He stares at her, eyes dull. “Maybe. I don’t know. I hope not.”

“I just don’t understand how you could ever make it work, when you can’t be human if she doesn’t love you.”

At this he does flinch back. One hand goes to his chest – the place where his book had faded into it. “That… that doesn’t matter. Not as long as she has the story she wants.” There’s something pained and distant in his voice.

Rosamund stares at him for a moment, then pulls her knees up to her chest, wraps her arms around them, and looks straight ahead. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push. This isn’t how I meant for this to go. I’m just- I’m scared, Gerard.”

He is silent for a long moment. When he speaks, he sounds normal again. “It’s ok. Don’t worry about it. What’s wrong? Aside from the, um, everything?”

“I think my story is supposed to end like yours.” She says it matter-of-factly. “And if we can’t change things – if they do go back to how they’re supposed to be – I don’t want to live with a prince who I have to make sure loves me, for the rest of my life, if I don’t want to fall asleep for another hundred years.”

“…Ah.” He sighs. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, Rosamund.”

She turns her head to face him, laying it on her arms. “Why not?”

“Well- for one, I think your curse is probably one of those that once it’s broken, it’s broken, since it wasn’t really a punishment for anything- although, I suppose I did sort of think mine wasn’t going to come back either- but, yes, probably fine.” He nods, seemingly mostly to himself. “And you- you’re good, Rosamund. You’re brave, and strong, and kind.” He moves to pat her awkwardly on the back, sees his webbed hand, sighs, and drops it. “I’m sure you would be fine.”

“And what if I don’t love him?” The words feel cold as they leave her mouth.

“Then, um.” He shifts nervously, then seems to resolve himself. “Well, then the rest of us would just have find another way to break the curse, assuming you didn’t find one yourself. Which I’m sure you could manage. But, you know, just in case.” The corner of his mouth curls up. “We’re supposed to stick together, aren’t we? I don’t think the ending of your story is: they all lived happily ever after, the end, and also they stayed together forever, and also Puss in Boots, Pinocchio, Mother Goose, Little Red and the Frog Prince never showed up. I mean I haven’t read it, so I can’t say for sure, but. It seems unlikely.”

She laughs slightly. “Thank you, Gerard.” On an impulse, she reaches out and pats him gently on the shoulder.

He sits up a little straighter. “And- hey. It probably won’t happen. So the best thing really is to just not think about it. It makes these things a lot easier, you know.”

She remembers seeing a frog who was not just a frog, trying his best to pretend that he was just a frog. “Maybe sometimes.” She says. “But I think I feel a bit better, now. I think now it might be easier to not think about it.”

He nods self-consciously. “Good. That’s good. I’m glad.”

After a moment he looks up, and she follows his gaze, listening to the others begin to stir behind them. The sky is grey and gloomy, thick with smoke.

Although it is morning, neither of them can see the sun. But still, it is brighter than it was before.

[shiorihyugawrites]

A Soft Place

In a post-Rumbling world, where the threat of Titans no longer looms, Vanessa Sinclair finds herself living a quiet life, working at her family’s bakery in Wall Rose. Curvy and self-conscious, Vanessa has always faded into the background, overshadowed by her more outgoing friends. But everything changes when Captain Levi Ackerman, Humanity's Strongest Soldier, begins visiting the bakery regularly. What starts as a simple exchange of tea and pastries quickly evolves into something more. Levi, drawn to her quiet strength and beauty, takes Vanessa on a journey that forces her to confront her insecurities, while learning that sometimes, what lies beneath the surface is more than enough. (Levi x Plus Sized OC)

Chapter Nineteen

The streets of the city were busy with the usual hum of activity, but Vanessa, Robin, and Emma walked together at a leisurely pace, soaking in the rare free day they had all carved out for themselves. The bakery was closed today, something that didn’t happen often, and the three of them had decided to spend the day together. It had been far too long since they’d had a proper girls' day.

The cool, crisp air made Vanessa pull her coat a little tighter around her, but the warmth from Robin and Emma’s laughter kept her from feeling the chill. They had spent the morning wandering the market, browsing through stalls and admiring handmade trinkets and fabrics. Now, they were headed to a small café on the corner, a place the three of them used to frequent before life got too busy.

As they walked, Robin nudged Vanessa with a knowing smile. “You know,” she began, her voice light with teasing, “you’ve been a lot more radiant lately, Ness.”

Emma, walking on Vanessa’s other side, quickly nodded in agreement, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “She’s right, you know. Ever since you and Captain Levi got serious, it’s like you’re a whole new person.”

Vanessa couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face, though she shook her head lightly. “Oh, come on, you two. It’s not that dramatic.”

Robin raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Not dramatic? Are you kidding? You’re practically glowing! You’ve always been beautiful, Ness, but now... you’ve bloomed.” She gestured toward Vanessa, as if to emphasize the point. “It’s like you’re this stunning flower that finally opened up.”

Emma chimed in, her voice filled with fondness. “She’s right. You’re not the shy, insecure girl you used to be. I mean, you were always amazing, but now, it’s like you’ve really stepped into who you are. And don’t think we haven’t noticed how Levi’s had a hand in that.”

Vanessa’s cheeks flushed slightly at their words, her heart warming at the support from her friends. It was true—she had changed, more than she ever expected. She wasn’t sure exactly when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, Levi had become more than just the man she cared for. He had become her anchor, her constant, someone who had helped her see her own worth in ways she hadn’t before.

“I don’t know,” Vanessa said softly, her voice thoughtful as they turned the corner toward the café. “I guess being with Levi just... made me realize that I deserve to be happy. That it’s okay to be confident in myself. He’s never treated me like I was anything less than special, and I think... that’s made me start to believe it too.”

Robin grinned, giving Vanessa’s arm a gentle squeeze. “See? That’s exactly what we’re talking about. Levi’s a good man, Ness. And you deserve someone like him.”

Emma nodded again, her expression more serious now. “It’s more than that, though. You always had it in you—this confidence, this beauty. Levi just helped you see it, but it’s been there all along.”

Vanessa felt her heart swell at their words, her throat tightening with emotion. She had known Robin and Emma for years, and they had seen her through some of her most difficult times. They had been there when she was insecure, when she struggled with self-esteem, when she felt like she wasn’t good enough for anyone—least of all a man like Levi.

But now, standing here with them, she realized just how much had changed. She had changed. She no longer felt like she had to hide behind her work or her friends to feel worthy. She had found something in herself that she hadn’t known was there—confidence, self-assurance, and a quiet strength that had grown over time.

“Thank you,” Vanessa said quietly, her voice filled with sincerity as they walked. “I don’t know if I would have made it this far without you two.”

Robin waved a hand dismissively, though her smile was soft. “Oh, please. You’re the strongest out of all of us, Ness. We just cheered you on.”

Emma smiled as well, her voice gentle as she added, “And Levi... well, he just sees what we’ve always seen in you.”

Vanessa felt a deep sense of gratitude toward her friends, and as they entered the café, the warmth of the room enveloping them, she couldn’t help but reflect on how far she had come.

They found a table near the window, the light snow outside casting a peaceful glow over the streets. As they sat down, Vanessa glanced out the window, her thoughts drifting to Levi. He was a man of few words, but in the months they had been together, he had shown her a depth of care and affection that went beyond anything she had ever known.

It wasn’t just about the way he looked at her, though that alone made her heart flutter. It was the way he always made sure she was comfortable, the way he listened to her—even when he didn’t have much to say in return. The way he treated her with respect, never once making her feel like she wasn’t enough.

Levi had given her more than just confidence. He had given her the space to grow into herself, to shed the insecurities that had once weighed her down. And now, as she sat here with Robin and Emma, laughing and sharing stories, Vanessa realized just how much she had bloomed.

Robin leaned forward, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “So... any plans with Levi tonight?”

Vanessa blushed slightly, though she couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at her lips. “Actually, yes. He’s picking me up later. We’re going to have dinner at this little place he found. Apparently, it’s really quiet, which is perfect for him.”

Emma grinned, clearly excited. “Ooh, another date! You two have been going out every Friday since you started dating! That’s practically tradition at this point.”

Vanessa chuckled, shaking her head. “I guess it is. Levi’s... old-fashioned like that. Always a gentleman.”

Robin sighed dreamily, leaning back in her chair. “Sounds perfect. You’re so lucky, Ness.”

Vanessa smiled softly, her heart full as she thought about Levi. “Yeah,” she said quietly, her voice filled with affection. “I am.”

As they continued their conversation, the café filled with the sound of their laughter and the clinking of cups. Vanessa felt lighter than she had in a long time, surrounded by the warmth of her friends and the knowledge that she had found something truly special in her life.

And as the day wore on, Vanessa knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t the same person she had been before. She was stronger, more confident, and more sure of herself than ever. And with Levi by her side, she felt like she could take on anything the world had to offer.

Because she had finally bloomed, and there was no going back now.

…

Vanessa, Robin, and Emma were still laughing as they left the café, their spirits high after a much-needed day together. The air was crisp, the sky above them a soft gray, and snowflakes still gently floated down, coating the streets in a thin blanket of white. They had planned to head toward a nearby shop to browse for some new fabrics Robin had been raving about. Everything felt light, easy, and joyful—until they turned a corner and came face-to-face with a group of familiar figures.

Delancy.

Vanessa felt the change in the atmosphere immediately. Delancy stood there with her usual gaggle of friends, dressed in an overly elaborate coat, her face set in a scowl the second her eyes landed on Vanessa. It had been three months since that disastrous night at the ball, when Levi had put her in her place after she insulted Vanessa. Clearly, Delancy hadn’t forgotten the humiliation, and if her expression was any indication, she wasn’t over it.

“Well, well, look who it is,” Delancy sneered, her voice dripping with disdain as she folded her arms across her chest. “Vanessa Sinclair and her little bakery crew.”

Robin and Emma immediately stiffened on either side of Vanessa, their smiles fading into wary looks. But Vanessa�� Vanessa felt something different this time. She didn’t flinch, didn’t immediately shrink back like she once might have. Instead, she stood her ground, her chin lifting ever so slightly as she met Delancy’s eyes.

Delancy’s friends snickered behind her, but it was obvious that Delancy was the ringleader here, her gaze narrowing as she looked Vanessa up and down. “Still playing dress-up, I see,” Delancy continued, her voice cold. “Though I suppose anyone would have to put in the effort if they were lucky enough to have snagged Captain Levi. Too bad you’ll never truly be enough for someone like him.”

Vanessa felt the familiar sting of Delancy’s words, the way they were designed to cut into her insecurities. Once, they would have worked. Once, Vanessa might have shrunk away, let Delancy’s cruelty get under her skin. But not anymore. Not now.

With a deep breath, Vanessa straightened her back, the warmth of her friends at her sides grounding her. “You’re wrong, Delancy,” she said, her voice steady but firm. “I am enough. More than enough.”

The quiet strength in her words made Delancy falter for just a moment, her eyes widening slightly before they narrowed again, clearly unprepared for this version of Vanessa. “Oh, really?” Delancy sneered, her lip curling in disdain. “You actually believe that? After everything? Just because you’ve been parading around with Levi for a few months, doesn’t mean—”

“Doesn’t mean what?” Vanessa cut in, her voice unwavering. “Doesn’t mean I’ve grown? Doesn’t mean I’m confident in who I am? Or doesn’t mean I’m not affected by your petty comments anymore?”

Delancy’s face twisted in anger, but Vanessa pressed on. “I used to care what you thought. I used to let your words get to me, make me feel like I wasn’t good enough, but that’s not who I am anymore. I don’t need your validation, Delancy. I know my worth, and I’m happy. Happier than I’ve ever been, and nothing you say will take that away from me.”

Robin and Emma exchanged glances, their eyes wide with pride and admiration. This was a side of Vanessa they had always known was there, but seeing her stand up to Delancy like this, with so much quiet strength, made them feel like cheering.

Delancy, for her part, seemed momentarily stunned, her usual smug demeanor faltering as she processed Vanessa’s words. She wasn’t used to being confronted like this, especially by someone she had always viewed as beneath her.

“Oh, please,” Delancy spat, her voice losing some of its edge. “You think because you’re with Captain Levi now, you’re untouchable?”

Vanessa shook her head, her expression calm. “No, I don’t think that. I know that my relationship with Levi doesn’t define me. I define me. I’ve learned how to love and accept myself, and that’s something you clearly don’t understand.”

Delancy’s face reddened with frustration, her mouth opening and closing as if she was trying to find the right insult, but nothing came. Vanessa’s confidence, her unshakable composure, was something Delancy couldn’t penetrate.

Vanessa took a step closer, her gaze steady. “I’m not the same person you used to bully, Delancy. And you know what? I actually feel sorry for you.”

Delancy blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“I feel sorry for you,” Vanessa repeated, her voice filled with compassion, something Delancy likely hadn’t experienced often. “Because for some reason, you feel the need to tear other people down just to feel better about yourself. I hope one day you can figure out how to be happy without hurting others. But until then, I’m done letting you make me feel small.”

Robin let out a soft, impressed whistle, and Emma grinned proudly at her friend’s side, clearly thrilled with the way Vanessa had taken control of the situation.

Delancy, however, stood there speechless, her face red with a mixture of anger and humiliation. She opened her mouth to say something, but for once, no words came. Vanessa had taken the power back, and it was clear that Delancy had no idea how to handle that.

With a huff, Delancy spun on her heel, her friends trailing behind her as they hurried away, their snickers now replaced with awkward silence.

As they disappeared around the corner, Robin let out a laugh, clapping Vanessa on the shoulder. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! You were amazing, Ness!”

Emma nodded enthusiastically, her eyes shining with pride. “You stood up to her like a pro. She didn’t know what hit her!”

Vanessa let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her heart still racing from the confrontation. But as the adrenaline started to fade, she felt a wave of pride wash over her. She had done it. She had stood up to Delancy, not with anger or insults, but with strength and compassion.

“I guess I did,” she said with a small, triumphant smile.

Robin grinned, looping her arm through Vanessa’s as they continued down the street. “You’ve come a long way, Ness. Levi’s a lucky guy, but honestly? You’ve always been incredible. Now the whole world’s just catching up to it.”

Vanessa smiled, feeling lighter than she had in a long time. She had grown, not just because of Levi, but because she had learned to see herself the way he did—with love, respect, and confidence.

And that was something no one—not even Delancy—could take away from her.

The encounter with Delancy still lingered in Vanessa’s mind, but she refused to let it ruin the day. Robin and Emma were the same, their lighthearted chatter and laughter filling the air as they walked through the streets, eager to make the most of their time together. Vanessa smiled, her confidence still buoyed by the way she had stood up for herself. She wasn’t going to let Delancy or anyone else bring her down today.

As they continued their stroll, something caught Robin’s eye, and she tugged on Emma’s arm, pointing toward a nearby shop. Vanessa followed their gaze and immediately felt her cheeks flush. It was a lingerie boutique, its window display filled with delicate lace and satin creations in soft pastels and deep, sultry hues.

Emma’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, we have to go in!” she exclaimed, already steering Robin toward the door.

Vanessa, on the other hand, froze, her face heating up at the mere thought. “Wait, we don’t need to—”

But it was too late. Robin and Emma were already giggling and pulling her along with them, their excitement infectious. “Come on, Ness!” Robin said with a teasing grin. “We’re just looking!”

Vanessa’s heart pounded in her chest as they entered the shop, the warm air inside thick with the scent of floral perfume. Her eyes darted around, taking in the array of lingerie hanging on delicate racks, the soft fabrics, the intricate lace. It was all so... intimate. The idea of buying something like this, let alone wearing it, was enough to make her blush furiously.

Robin, clearly enjoying her discomfort, nudged her with an exaggerated wink. “You know, someone might appreciate seeing you in something like this.”

Vanessa’s blush deepened, her mind immediately jumping to Levi. “W-We’re not there yet,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Emma laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Not yet, huh? Well, if the way you two look at each other is anything to go by, it’s only a matter of time.” She held up a delicate lace nightgown and raised an eyebrow. “And when it does happen... this wouldn’t be a bad choice.”

Vanessa covered her face with her hands, feeling like she might melt into the floor. “You guys!” she protested, her voice muffled by her embarrassment. She hadn’t even thought about getting lingerie, and now her friends were all but throwing it in her face.

Robin leaned in closer, her voice conspiratorial. “Come on, Ness. You’re the one in a relationship. You’re gonna need this stuff sooner or later.”

Vanessa’s mind raced, thinking back to the moments she’d shared with Levi. Things hadn’t gone that far yet, but there had been times—steamy, intense moments where she could feel how badly they both wanted to go further. The way Levi kissed her, the way his hands moved over her body... It had been overwhelming, the heat between them undeniable. But no matter how heated things got, Levi always pulled back, stopping before things could get too dangerous.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. In fact, Vanessa was certain she’d go further if Levi let her. But Levi was careful, always in control. He didn’t rush, and she respected that, even if it left her breathless and wanting more.

Robin and Emma seemed to sense her thoughts, and their teasing smiles softened into something more understanding. Emma placed a hand on Vanessa’s arm, her voice gentle. “We’re just teasing, Ness. We know you and Levi will take things at your own pace.”

Robin nodded, her expression more thoughtful now. “Yeah. But whenever you’re ready, just know... you’ll look amazing no matter what.”

Vanessa managed a small smile, her heart calming as she looked at her friends. “Thanks, you two. I know.”

Despite the teasing, there was truth in what they said. Vanessa and Levi’s relationship had been growing steadily, and though they hadn’t crossed that final threshold into physical intimacy, the bond between them was deepening every day. Vanessa had never felt more secure with someone, and she knew Levi was just being his usual, cautious self.

Still, as she glanced at the delicate lingerie hanging on the racks, her mind couldn’t help but wander. What would Levi think if he saw her in something like this? She imagined his eyes darkening, his voice low and rough with desire, the way he might look at her like she was the only thing in the world. Her blush returned full force at the thought, and she quickly turned her attention to something else, trying to push those thoughts away for now.

Robin and Emma, however, weren’t done teasing. As they moved through the store, they kept pulling items off the racks, holding them up for Vanessa to see. “How about this one?” Robin asked, holding up a deep red slip. “Very sexy, very bold.”

“Or maybe this?” Emma added, displaying a soft pink set that was more delicate, more romantic. “Something sweet and flirty.”

Vanessa buried her face in her hands again, laughing despite herself. “I’m going to kill you both.”

Robin laughed, looping her arm around Vanessa’s shoulder as they headed for the door. “Oh, come on. You love us.”

Emma grinned, giving Vanessa a playful nudge. “And besides, we’re just helping you get ready for when things do heat up. You’ll thank us later.”

Vanessa shook her head, her heart still racing from the embarrassment, but also from something else—something more excited, more anticipatory. Maybe her friends were right. Maybe it was only a matter of time.

As they stepped back out into the snowy street, Vanessa felt lighter, more at ease. She wasn’t ready to make that leap with Levi just yet, but when the time came... she knew it would be worth the wait.

And with that thought in mind, she walked alongside her friends, her heart full of warmth and excitement for the future, knowing that whatever happened next, she was ready.

…

Levi sat in his quiet apartment, the soft glow of the late afternoon light filtering through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue over the room. His hand rested over the top of his teacup, the familiar weight and warmth grounding him as he took a slow sip. The rich, earthy flavor of the tea filled his senses, and for a moment, the world outside seemed distant, far removed from the war-torn reality he had known for so long.

It had been nearly a year since the war ended, and for the first time in years, Levi found himself with something he had never really experienced—peace. His status as a war hero had earned him this apartment in Wall Rose, a quiet place close to HQ, but far enough removed from the daily bustle of military life. It was spacious, quiet, and—most importantly—it was a place where he could finally let down his guard.

Levi glanced around the room, his gaze eventually settling on the couch in the corner. The memory of Vanessa sitting there flashed in his mind, and his grip on the teacup tightened just slightly. She had been here a few times, each visit leaving him more and more aware of how much she meant to him. The last time she had come over, things had gotten... heated.

Levi set the teacup down on the table, his mind wandering back to that night. Vanessa had been sitting on that very couch, her soft laughter filling the space as they talked about nothing and everything. One thing had led to another, and soon enough, their conversation had dissolved into something far more intimate. He could still feel the way her body had pressed against his, the heat of her lips on his, the way his hands had explored her curves.

They had kissed heavily, touching and exploring each other’s bodies with a kind of desperate, unspoken need. Levi had wanted her so badly, had wanted to take things further right then and there. But, as always, he had pulled back before things got too dangerous. He had to. Not because he didn’t want her—God, he wanted her more than anything—but because he didn’t want to rush things. He needed to be sure. Not just for himself, but for Vanessa.

Levi leaned back in his chair, his eyes still fixed on the couch as the memories played out in his mind. The way Vanessa had looked at him, the softness of her lips, the heat of her breath against his skin... it had been enough to make him lose his mind. But as much as he desired her, as much as his body ached for hers, he knew there was more to this. It wasn’t just about the physical attraction—though that was undeniable—it was about something deeper.

For days now, Levi had been processing his feelings for Vanessa, trying to make sense of the emotions that seemed to take root in his chest every time he thought of her. It wasn’t like him to dwell on feelings, let alone romantic ones. But this... this was different. Vanessa was different. She had come into his life quietly, without fanfare, and yet she had somehow managed to carve out a space for herself in his heart.

Levi closed his eyes, exhaling slowly as the realization washed over him. He had been tiptoeing around it for weeks, unsure of what to call these emotions that had been building inside him. But now, sitting here in the quiet of his apartment, surrounded by the memories of her, it hit him with full force.

He wasn’t just attracted to Vanessa. He wasn’t just fond of her. He was completely, utterly in love with her.

The weight of the realization settled over him, but it wasn’t a burden. It felt... right. It felt like everything had clicked into place, like he had been waiting for this moment all along. Levi, who had spent his entire life building walls around himself, who had never allowed anyone to get too close, had finally let someone in. And not just anyone—Vanessa. The woman who had seen him at his most vulnerable, who had been patient and kind, who had never judged him for the things he couldn’t say.

Levi ran a hand through his hair, his heart pounding in his chest as he thought about her. It wasn’t just the way she looked or the way she smiled. It was the way she made him feel—like he was more than just a soldier, more than just “Humanity’s Strongest.” With Vanessa, he felt... human. He felt seen, understood, and loved in a way he had never thought possible.

Levi leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared down at the floor. What did he do now? How did he even begin to tell her? He had never been good with words, especially when it came to emotions, but Vanessa deserved to know how he felt. She deserved to know that she wasn’t just someone he cared about—she was someone he wanted to build a future with.

The thought of a future with Vanessa stirred something deep inside him. It was a foreign concept, one he had never allowed himself to entertain before. But now, it felt real. It felt possible.

He wanted to be with her. Fully. Completely. But he also knew that he couldn’t rush this. They hadn’t even slept together yet, and while the desire was there—God, was it there—Levi wanted to make sure that when they did, it was because they were both ready.

He wouldn’t pressure her. He wouldn’t rush into anything. But he knew, without a doubt, that he was ready for the next step. He was ready to tell her that he loved her.

Levi’s gaze drifted back to the couch, and a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He had never been one for grand gestures, but maybe tonight, when he saw Vanessa, he would find a way to tell her. Maybe tonight, he’d let her in on the truth he had been grappling with for weeks.

Because for the first time in his life, Levi knew what it meant to be in love. And he knew, with every fiber of his being, that he was in love with Vanessa Sinclair.

~

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[sweetmusingss]

I smirk when hearing your response to me, kissing your cheek gently before walking up to my door with you. I unlocked it before stepping inside and shutting it again. “Only 5%, huh?,” I ask you, turning to face you. I removed my dress so I was only standing in my bikini, kicking my sandals off and letting you stand there and ogle at me all you wanted. “So only 5% jealousy gets you to rush away from the diner and come find me? It’s funny because Don didn’t leave too long before you were suddenly there..,” I say to you, wanting you to know that I didn’t believe your little lie that you were barely jealous. “It’s okay to admit that you were jealous, you know. It’s a turn-on for me more than anything,” I say to you. “I would have gladly rode you right there in front of everyone if it wouldn’t get me arrested,” I admit to you, showing you more and more each day just how freaky I really was.

Seb was about to fight you again but before he could, his eyes were fixated on your body and your words were sending him reeling. No one ever thought his jealousy was hot, they thought it was toxic and gross and demeaning but here you were, changing his mind about everything every other woman ever told him. Before he could even think, he was reaching out and gripping your waist and pulling you into him, kissing you heatedly and intensely, wasting no time in pushing his tongue into your mouth. He knew he had to get back to the diner, but he was not going to let this chance get away. He had never slipped away in the middle of a shift to have sex but seeing you there had gotten him so riled up that he knew he had to get it out of his system before he could even think about going back to work. He’d spill coffee on everyone and mess up all their orders.

__

Emma shook her head when hearing what you said. “They shouldn’t blame you for moving away though. No one moves here to Storybrooke unless they feel like they need to,” she says to you, knowing there had to be a reason that you moved away from home. “You shouldn’t let anyone make you feel bad for doing what was best for you,” she said. She couldn’t help but think about when she first moved here. She was trying to escape the demons of her past and she felt drawn to the small town and the idea of starting over. She couldn’t imagine anyone ever hurting you or being mean to you because you seemed way too sweet and innocent for that but it also made you feel more human to her. To know that you had a complicated life too made you feel more real to her and like you weren’t this happy go lucky person all the time. “Regina is upset at me a lot of the time lately. I haven’t been the nicest person since my breakup,” she said, not sure why she was finding you so easy to talk to. She could not help but wonder if you were aware that Regina was trying to win you over. Part of her wanted to say something to you but she also knew that would not be right to Regina, either. 

I furrow my brows when she says that people only moved here when they felt they had to, “Did you move here because you needed to get away from something? I assumed you were born and raised here.” I could sense that Emma wasn’t really an open book, not sure if my questioning would scare her off. Even when I asked her about what tv shows she liked the night before, she kept her answers close to the chest. She didn’t like divulging information and I assumed that was for a reason. I dealt with enough demons to recognize them in someone else. I frown when Emma mentions a break up, shocked that she was even sharing this much information, but I knew that it was only a matter of time before she put her walls back up and iced me out again. “Breakups are hard... I’m sorry you’re going through that. It’s their loss if they don’t want to be with you anymore.. and also their loss if you were too good for them. You’re a catch and their an idiot for letting you get away.” I give her a sweet smile, wanting to reach out and take her hand but refraining. Just because she kissed me three times meant nothing... nothing at all. I highly doubt she’d want me to take her hand right here in public where anyone - Regina included - could see.

[intangibel]

Happy International Asexuality Day!!

💚💜♠️ sending so much love to any tumblr folk who are on the asexual spectrum like me &/or are aroace ♠️💜💚

♠️What is Asexuality?♠️

An Asexual is a person who rarely or never experiences sexual attraction. They are not drawn to people sexually and do not feel compelled to act on attraction to others in a sexual way. Asexuality does not preclude you from experiencing other types of attraction (including romantic attraction) to people of the same or different gender to yourself, or define whether you want to be in a committed relationship.

💜Why is awareness important? 💜

An absence of attraction is much harder to define than a presence; and lack of awareness means many people have no idea that there are words to describe their experiences or others who feel the same. While the term has been in common use since the 1960s, many people are well over the age of 25 when they first hear the word - especially if they experience romantic attraction to the opposite gender and haven’t had much exposure to the broader LGBTIQAP+ community. When you’re told all of your life that romantic feelings about someone are inextricably linked to sexual attraction it can be confusing when your experiences don’t seem to match. It can also be hard to tell what is hyperbole and what are thoughts that allosexual (the opposite of asexual) people have the intention of doing?

There is are strong social and cultural messages which use the development of sexual thoughts, sexual relationships and having children as markers of age and maturity. It can be difficult to express a lack of sexual desire without being invalidated or challenged by the people around you or your own built in expectation that sex is fundamental to being human. Are you medically or psychologically unwell? Are you repressed? Broken? Prudish? A late bloomer? Will this “all make sense” when I meet “the right person”?

While most identities on the LGBTIQAP+ spectrum are becoming better protected from medicalisation and psychiatric diagnosis - Asexuality has a long way to go.

It is still very common for people who are questioning or on the Asexuality spectrum to be offered medical testing and treatment aimed at curing their Asexuality. Most GPs still routinely recommend blood tests to check hormone levels, assessment for depression or other mental illnesses, recommend counselling or prescribe medication to boost libido.

.

♠️Celibacy Vs Asexuality♠️

Celibacy is like being on a diet. You still want to have sex and have sexual thoughts about others but are choosing not to act on them at that time. Whether it’s based on your beliefs or availability of a suitable partner varies but that desire is still present even if intentionally suppressed.

Asexuality is like not experiencing hunger because you’re already eaten enough. You don’t have sexual thoughts about others or feel compelled to act on them.

💜Attraction Vs Libido💜

Libido is typically the amount that you think about sex and how much you want to engage in sexual activities either partnered or solo. Libido is on a spectrum for people of all sexual orientations. They normally range from high to low. Libido can fluctuate and change over the lifespan and it can be influenced by hormone levels as well as some medications.

Attraction is usually whether your libido is directed at a particular person or type of person. Attraction can also be seen as the extent to which you want to act on sexual thoughts about a particular person.

Asexual people can and do experience a range of libidos from high to low. However they do not experience sexual attraction, therefore are less likely to feel compelled to act on it and rarely associate it with a specific person.

♠️Attitudes towards Sex♠️

Asexuality is a wide spectrum, individual wants and needs vary but all are valid and normal.

In broad terms: Some asexuals are sex favourable, they may not experience sexual attraction but still get pleasure out doing sexual intimate acts with others. Some asexuals are ambivalent towards sex, it’s something they can take or leave. Some asexuals are completely or partially repelled by the idea of personally participating in sexual activity with a partner.

Resources:

Asexuality Visability & Education Network (AVEN) www.Asexuality.org

‘Finding Asexuality in the Archives’ by Michael Waters (Article on the history of Asexuality)

‘Ace: What Asexuality Reveals About Desire, Society, and the Meaning of Sex’ by Angela Chen (Nonfiction book) http://www.angelachen.org/ace.html

The Invisible Orientation: An Introduction to Asexuality by Julie Sondra Decker (Nonfiction Book)

A-Ok Podcast (30-60 min interviews with people on the Asexual &/or Aromantic Spectrums) https://www.aokpod.com

There are a lot of fictional books for adults and teens with asexual characters & if anyone is interested I can provide links 😊

[lumilasi]

A surprise ask game! List 10 facts about your ocs and then tag 5 other people to learn things about theirs!

(I actually got this a little while back but forgot about it, since I'm getting tagged a lot this week, figured might as well do this one too now lmao)

I decided to pick 5 characters with 2 facts about each, as I have so many lol

1. Yoruga’s name, Yoruga Shirushi, is not his real name, but the name he chose for himself after leaving his birth family behind. 

2. Yoruga is basically his bestie Kiyoi’s wingman, often helping him with his crush issues (and he does do the same with the said crush who’s also his friend lol. It’s basically that Toothless meme of hiccup being in the bush like “You’re doing great buddy!”)

3. Azul, (one of my older characters I haven’t drawn that much lately, I’ve abandoned my boy oh no :(( ) used to be single and not meant to have a love interest, but then I realized his dynamic with Diojas (another oc of mine) was far more fun than shipping Diojas with Azul’s brother, so I changed it lol

4. Azul has changed the least visually from his first appearance out of all of my characters; I only really upgraded his outfit somewhat. 

5. Toshiko’s voice claim is Rukia from bleach; their personalities are somewhat alike, with both appearing serious at first glance, but also having this kind of awkward side to them. 

6. Toshiko is often VERY embarrassed by her little half-sister Akiko’s shenanigans (they share the same dad but have different mums, their parents had/have a polyamorous pan relationship, which means the mums were a couple too, not just a case of a dude with two wives), though she does actually genuinely appreciate her efforts in trying to bond with her.

7. Jurou’s relationship with his mother was strained at first (this is a recent story update for his BG story I’ve decided to make, as the current one needs too much suspension of disbelief in some aspects) and he can still sometimes be a bit harsh towards her.

8. Designing him was super hard, but once I got it he became one of my favorite characters lmao, Spider Dad is just too much fun to draw

9. Belladonna is probably my most well-rounded villains so far, lot of her actions/reasoning feels fairly believable and human, namely bad choices/bad stuff humans can do willingly. It all also ties well to her personality and feels consistent without too much need for suspension of disbelief; I still need to work on the other ones more in comparison. (this is all stuff only in her bio so far, but I do want to draw some things pertaining to it eventually)

10. Belladonna is one of the few villain characters in this “story” that if this was a real manga/comic, she would not get redeemed in the end, namely because I feel her character doesn’t require it. Unlike some others, all the bad things coming her way were caused fully by her, by her own knowing actions, by her refusal to take responsibility, and even now she doesn’t necessarily regret them. (not saying you can’t redeem characters like this, but I personally wouldn’t feel the need to do that for her in my own story lol)

EDIT: So apparently Tumblr refused to tag people properly, let me try again >:C

@macckenchiz (right back at chu mu ha ha ha) @itsmikatheghost, @bothvinforfaen, @mad-hatter-rici​ aand....I don’t know enough people with ocs to tag a fifth I think? oh well

[merakiui]

Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, and Childe Finding out That You’re Being Abused HCs

cw: mentions/descriptions of (physical and emotional) abuse, injuries, depressive mood/thoughts, implied violence **please proceed with caution and do not read if this is triggering! note - submissions are confusing for me, so I wrote it in this format. I hope that was okay! 

@tuestika said: Hi! Sorry that I send my request through submission, tumblr has sometimes eaten my asks either wholly or have omnomned whole ask xD Usually my requests sent through submissions arrive intact so…. I saw that you had done Scaramouche reacting finding out their s/o is being abused headcanons, may I request headcanons for Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao and Childe finding out their their s/o is being abused? Keep up good job! <3

🔥 Diluc 🔥

Diluc might not be the most vocal person in the world, but he’s definitely observant. He’s gotten rather skilled at picking apart your social cues because he’s spent a lot of time with you. 

So when you barge into his tavern one evening, looking absolutely disheveled and asking for one of the Knights, he’s feeling two emotions: confusion and irritation. 

For one, you shouldn’t even entrust your issue to those inadequate Knights. Nevertheless, you are his friend and he isn’t going to kick you out just because you mentioned them. 

He waves you over to the bar and is thoroughly shocked when you beg him to let you hide behind it. Then he notices your split lip and the fresh injuries on your face and forearms, and he wastes no time in getting to the point.

“Why were you out so late fighting hilichurls? I hope you haven’t led any here. We don’t need that sort of trouble right now.”

“Sorry. No, that’s not it. I just—you’re the only one...” You’re struggling to piece a coherent statement together, too busy looking over your shoulder to keep track of your thoughts. “I didn’t know where I could go. I mean, I thought of you and—“

“Please slow down. Start at the beginning.”

More concerned over your safety than professionalism, Diluc allows you to slip behind the bar counter, where you cower on the ground to avoid being seen. 

You gesture for him to come down to your height and he sighs, silently complying when he finds there aren’t any new customers to serve. Bending down to your level, he holds onto the countertop to keep his balance and then he locks eyes with you. 

“What exactly happened?”

You inhale a shuddering breath, wrapping your sore arms around yourself for comfort. Tears are gathering in your eyes as you recall the event. Your abuser had found you after you’d left to get some fresh air, they’d cornered you in a secluded alley, and—you can’t finish the rest of the story.

Diluc doesn’t expect you to continue. He nods as he lets the information sink in, already harboring a deep resentment for this despicable individual. 

“Wait here. I’ll close the tavern early. In the meantime, we should see to your injuries and then we’ll look for that person.”

“I really think we should tell the Knights...” you mumble, knowing he’ll disapprove. “They’re more suited to these types of cases.”

“The Knights are incompetent. The investigation will take days, if not weeks. What happens if your abuser knows they’ll be coming for them? They’ll try to escape and then there’ll be no telling where they’ve gone.”

“I know, but it wouldn’t hurt to—“

“I’ll take care of it.”

You try to object because it’s dangerous and you don’t want him to get injured on your behalf. But he’s insistent in his decision, claiming that if the Knights can’t help you no one can. And you really wouldn’t feel safe if your abuser was still roaming free, so you have no other choice but to allow him to carry out the investigation himself.

And Diluc can be quite clever at times. It won’t be hard to traverse the interior of Mondstadt at night, where his identity melts away into that of the sneaky Darknight Hero. 

He’s going to protect you no matter what. Your abuser won’t receive an ounce of sympathy from Diluc. All he feels is cold hatred when he catches them. Someone as precious as you does not deserve to be put through such torment, and he’ll see to it that your abuser pays a hefty price to make up for all of the damage they’ve caused.

🧊 Kaeya 🧊

Kaeya can’t understand why you’ve started isolating yourself from everyone. In the past, you were always such great friends with the Knights, always catching up to talk to one of them.

He’d spent a lot of time with you and has since gotten to know you through lighthearted conversations and gossip from the people of Mondstadt. 

For someone so appreciated and well-known, he can’t wrap his head around why you might want to suddenly disappear, hiding yourself away as if you didn’t exist. 

And then he happens to catch you in town one day while you’re out running some errands. It’s so like him to pop in with a few flirty lines, but the words stick in his throat when he notices the bandages stuck to your arms and legs. 

“That can’t be good,” he says as he approaches you, leaning ever so gracefully against a wooden support beam. “Why don’t we find Barbara? I’m sure she’ll have you patched up in no time, my dear friend.”

You don’t think you’re worth it so you shake your head, nervously hoping he’ll take the hint and go away. 

“I hope you’re not accepting those dangerous commissions again,” he adds, half teasing and half serious. You can’t tell whether he’s trying to sound chiding or not. 

“Please just...leave me be. I’m a little busy right now.” You try to leave the stall you’re at, walking stiffly to avoid limping in front of him. “I’m not feeling well, so if you’ll excuse me—“

Kaeya pushes off from the beam, standing in front of you with a posture that appears immovable. “By order of the Calvary Captain,” he’s saying, a playful glint in his eyes, “you aren’t allowed to move from that spot until you tell me what’s bothering you and why you’re covered head to toe in bandages.”

You can easily object to such an order, but you figure it’s better to answer instead of arguing over your physical condition. So you explain a modified version of the story, telling him that you simply got into a disagreement and it ended in bruises on both sides. 

Kaeya hears the tremble in your voice when you say it; you’re lying. His expression softens at once and he steps away, indicating that you’re free to leave. But you don’t; you’re looking at him with such a helpless, pleading look. It breaks his heart.

You break before him, lips quivering as you beg for his help. You’re so scared and alone, and you’re not sure how long you can suffer through this before it seriously hurts you. 

“This is the first time I’ve gotten out in weeks.” So that explains your sudden isolation. “Please... I don’t want to go back home anymore. I’ll do anything. Just don’t let them hurt me again.”

Kaeya’s absolutely stunned to hear the silent revelation in your words. You’re awkwardly reaching to undo one of the bandage wrappings to prove your point, but he stops you short. That’s all the proof he needs.

You’ll be brought back to the Knights of Favonius’ Headquarters to be tended to while he gathers a team to search for your abuser. Since you gave him a solid description, it shouldn’t be too hard to find them. 

And once they’re apprehended, Kaeya will subject them to a grueling interrogation. There will be no gentle punishment; it’s going to be as unforgiving as the abuse you had to suffer through. 

☁️ Xiao ☁️

You’ve never really been keen on physical touch and Xiao understands that completely. He usually avoids any sort of interaction to begin with, unless it’s absolutely necessary, so it’s not a surprise whenever you shy away from large crowds.

He has grown rather fond of you, which has lead to the two of you meeting at Wangshu Inn for some Almond Tofu and relaxed chit-chat.

During one of your many conversations, you bring up a few alarming statements. They’re just personal points you’d like to change, such as your weak fighting spirit or the way your joints brokenly click when you stretch. 

Xiao wonders why you’d want to change yourself. You’re not usually this doubtful of yourself. In the past, you would always play the role of his smiling friend, putting on a positive face even when he was in a disagreeable mood. 

Xiao is examining your movements as you awkwardly explain yourself and when your arms move he catches the sight of a rope burn etched into your wrist. 

“What happened?” He gestures to your sleeve, to which you react in a nervous manner, shyly pulling your sleeve down to hide it. Xiao frowns a bit. “Did you get into an accident?”

“No, of course not! I’m fine. It’s just a result of my clumsiness.”

It really doesn’t look like that to Xiao and when he truly looks at you again he finds that you appear abnormally tired and exhausted. He isn’t going to sugarcoat anything and he could be making a giant assumption, but he still asks.

“Is someone hurting you?”

Your eyes widen for a split second and Xiao catches that movement like a cat drawn to a laser pointer. He won’t force you to explain unless you feel comfortable doing so. The last thing he wants is upsetting you or pressuring you into something you don’t want to talk about.

Eventually, though, the story will come to light and he’ll hear all about the horrors you’ve gone through. That rope burn was just one of many punishments you’ve had to endure, and Xiao’s just about ready to snap. How dare someone lay their filthy hands upon you in such a violent way?

Xiao will calmly tell you to stay at Wangshu Inn or anywhere else in Liyue where you’ll be safe. He’ll watch over you while you take time to recuperate and heal. He’s going to make sure you’ll never have to go through something like that ever again.

Having Xiao by your side makes the healing process all the more comforting.

And when you fall asleep in a soft, warm bed, Xiao slips out into the night to search for your abuser. It won’t be a pretty sight once he gets his hands on the human trash who dared to hurt you.

💧 Childe 💧

He’s very perceptive when it comes to your health and overall well-being. After all, he’s got brothers and sisters to care for; perception is absolutely necessary in order to keep them happy and healthy.

So it doesn’t take long for him to realize your behavior is uncharacteristic. You’re jumpier than usual, always apologizing for the littlest of things, and you’ll look over your shoulder whenever you sense something.

It’s almost as if you expect someone to suddenly come at you, which isn’t all that odd. Childe has been known to keep you on your toes when he’s looking for a fight.

But on one particular day he manages to give you a spook when he comes up beside you, grinning and showing up in your peripheral so suddenly that it nearly gives you a heart attack. 

You’re so frightened as you back away, practically folding in on yourself in an effort to protect yourself from an imaginary blow. Childe pauses, that silly grin fading when he realizes you’re shaking.

“Hey, it wasn’t that scary. Come on, comrade!” He’s approaching you warily, not entirely sure why you’re acting the way you are. He’s always been spontaneous; you should be used to this by now.

But you refuse to let him come any closer, having to distance yourself so that you can ease your racing heart and hyperventilating lungs. Once you’ve calmed down, embarrassment floods through you at the fact that Childe just witnessed all of that. 

Childe will ask if you’re okay with him stepping closer and if you nod he’ll be on you like a hawk, pulling up your sleeves before you can stop him. 

For once, you catch an expression you normally don’t find on Childe: surprise. He’s genuinely shocked at what he sees: dark bruises and shallow lacerations from something sharp. 

Either you got these in your many sparring matches or there’s another factor at play here, and Childe is almost certain it’s the latter.  

His voice is gentle as he asks you to explain what’s going on and once you do he’s already set on finding the one who did this. He seems to forget all about his Fatui work, wanting to capture your abuser and give them a piece of his mind—and subject them to more than a few pieces of his strength, too. 

He’ll have you protected in no time, offering to take you to the best healer. You’ll be treated wonderfully and he’ll even lay off on your sparring matches for a while. 

In the meantime, once he gets his hands on your abuser, everything becomes fair game. After all, someone has to handle the brunt of his anger and pent-up bloodlust from the lack of a fight. And your abuser is the perfect match to pummel into the ground. Childe shows absolutely no mercy for them. 

[sweatandwoe]

You make me melt

Sometimes you find the best things in the most unexpected places. Like a yordle’s ice cream maker. 

Pairing: Singed x Heimerdinger 

Warnings: None, this is fluff. 

-

“And you’re sure, this will work?  It won't explode?” 

Singed blinked down at the yordle. Heimerdinger had always been a cautious one but really for this? “It’s ice cream, dear. Going to be made with your own ice cream maker. I haven’t touched it yet.” 

Blue eyes narrowed at him, not as distantly as they usually would be from how the yordle was perched on the kitchen stool, knees still just reaching the counter’s edge. One ungloved hand came to grasp his furless chin, rubbing at it in thought. “Disasters have been started with less, you know.” 

The doctor took in his partner, wearing one of Singed’s old sleep shirts, which fell to his knees, and a pair of pyjama bottoms. His fur was still damp from his shower. 

It was hard to even pretend to take him seriously when he looked adorable. Luckily, Singed had gotten used to dissecting adorable creatures when he lived in the Undercity. He knew the right mindset to tune out the natural cuteness. “It’s ice cream. Made from yordle-”

“Can we not talk about the milk?” 

Singed pouted, or the best he could with his lack of lips. His face coverings were long gone, he never worse them at home now. Heimerdinger had put his tiny foot down on that. “I thought you liked the milk talk.” 

“I do, of course, I do, dearest.” The yordle said, before drumming fingers against the countertop, he had been fidgeting a lot lately. “I just don’t trust this machine.” 

The scarred human stared at the machine. As far as he had known, it had never been in use since he had started living in the apartment. Well over half a year ago. “I suppose it is old.” He lifted it carefully, eyeing it. A thin layer of dust was still coating it. 

“Yes.” The yordle confirmed beaming up at his partner. “Put it away, Sunshine. Let’s just go relax, it’s been a long week, and- Stop!”

The yordle had soon scrambled up onto the countertop, so quickly that Singed wasn’t quite sure how to react as he placed his hands on the machine. Still, Heimerdinger was too small to make any real effect on Singed’s hands as they began to open up the ice cream maker. “It most likely just needs to be cleaned.” 

“It’s never been in use!” 

“It has to be cleaned then.” And despite the yordle’s feeble attempts to stop him, Singed opened up the ice cream maker. Drawing out the container that would hold the ingredients, the container rattling as he did so. The yordle was now yanking at the bandages he had so tenderly helped wrap the night before, but Singed only needed to take two steps back away from the counter to become out of the small figure’s reach. 

The yordle’s blue eyes were as wide as the hex stones he often worked with, and he dropped down onto the kitchen stool, then again onto the floor. “Don’t look in it!”

Well, Singed now had to look. Peering down into the container, he could just see the attachment used to churn the mixture at first. But then his eyes were drawn to the small box. A small velvet box. 

All at once, the air in the room felt thick. Singed could feel himself go very still before he reached down into the ice cream maker and drew out the box. A jewelry box, going by the style of it.

A set of mismatched eyes landed on the yordle. He held the box out to view, making sure to hold it higher than the professor’s arms could reach. “What is this?” 

Heimerdinger for once in his life was completely silent. There was only the bob of his throat for a long moment, but Singed has always been a patient man. It takes a few moments before he speaks, blue eyes averting him and large ears twitching rapidly. “I… I wanted to give it to you, I have a plan for it. For in a few weeks. You hate cold things, so I thought you’d never want ice cream.” He paused for a moment, only a moment, before launching into babbling. Trying to explain how it had gotten there, but the yordle had never been much of a good liar. 

Still not answering Singed’s question, not enough that the doctor decides to open it to see for himself. Inside lies a ring, as he suspected upon seeing the velvet box. It’s beautiful, surprisingly simple. A pure white band, with a few green gems in the center, with two blue ones along the side. It’s not overly extravagant, but neither of them are. 

The professor is still babbling, when Singed knelt in front of him. Only pausing when bandaged fingers come to cup his cheeks, and let their eyes lock. Watching as the words slowly come to a close, and Heimerdinger’s throat bobs once his lips seal shut. 

Singed won’t be around forever. This had never meant to be a permanent arrangement, the yordle had said so himself when they had moved into a more physical entanglement. That was before he had invited Singed to stay the one night that quickly turned to every night. Before they had shared yogurt and fruit every morning thereafter. Before he had given the other man a key to his apartment and had cleared out space in his closet. 

And now they had been living together for over half a year. Neither had confessed with words, the devotion had been clear to Singed since the yordle had asked him to move in. It wasn’t needed. 

But, perhaps those three words were still wanted. And the doctor had never been one to ignore an experiment, as he leaned forward to press his lips over a furry, damp forehead. “I love you.” 

There’s a gasp from the much smaller man, who repeats the words back to him slowly. It creates an oddly warm, soaring sensation in the human’s own chest. How interesting, he thought, not that he hadn’t known. One didn’t give up their life’s work for someone they didn’t care about. Somehow, still, giving up the research of Shimmer had seemed like an easy choice then. And even now. 

Tiny hands grip his own face when he pulls back, drawing mouths together. Soft and sweet, but hurried and desperate enough to make the doctor laugh against the other set of lips. 

When they pull away, Heimerdinger’s eyes are large and watery. There’s a sting in Singed’s own eyes before he holds out the ring box to the yordle, who lets go of his face to take it. Opening it up, and yanking the ring into his small hand. “Do I have to officially say yes?” 

“Yes.” And the yordle is grinning, beaming up at him now. Even with tears. “I want to hear you say it.” 

There’s no hesitation on Singed’s part, shockingly. “Yes. I want to marry you. For as long as you will have me.” 

“Forever.” There’s a level of confidence in Heimerdinger’s eyes that could be likened to madness. A look Singed wishes he could replicate; but for now, he settles with a soft smile. The ring is slid onto a bandaged finger.  “I’m not letting you go.” 

And Singed laughed a low rumble that rose from his chest. The fluffy smaller man is scooped into his arms, carrying him over to the couch. Ice cream could be ordered today. “Disasters have been started with less, my dear.” 

But oh, what a beautiful disaster it would be.

[wolfybugswriting]

Itadori/sukuna x reader

Summary: You go into a yearly rut, and this time Yuji catches you out of your room. He learns what's going on and decides to try and help you. Sukuna's a brat.

Warnings: amab gn reader(has a dick, but I try to not use gendered pronouns), masturbation, somewhat rough sex to even rougher sex w/ Sukuna, lots of biting, slight degradation? reader teases Yuji about wanting to fuck them, Sukuna is a brat, Yuji is super submissive, nice fluffy ending

Note(s): In this, the rut is essentially a side effect of your curse/cursed technique

Word count: 4.2k

With a huff, you slammed the snooze button on your alarm clock for the who-knows-how-many time - you hadn't been keeping count. Still foggy with sleep, and the side effects of your incoming rut, you didn't really care how late you slept in today. You'd managed to keep your situation a secret from your friends, feeling more comfortable dealing with it on your own. You told them that you were out on a mission, and would lock yourself up in your room until it subsided.

But now you were hungry, late in the evening; the others should be out by now, so you made your way to the kitchen. You took enough food to hold yourself over for a while longer, and it was a good thing too, hearing footsteps as you locked your door behind you.

Fucking hell- You could sense him from here, connected to both Itadori and the curse he hosted. You see, you were also a vessel. You housed the only curse that could rival Sukuna; one who was once his lover when they were human, until she was killed. She resented Sukuna for not trying to save her, but they were still connected to each other whether they liked it or not.

Shaking your head clear of your thoughts, you huddled into your haphazard mess of pillows and blankets. Maybe you could just sleep away your problem.

. . .

"Fuuucck..." You groaned, throwing your blankets off of you as your body was starting to overheat. This was one of the worst ruts you've gone through already, and knowing just how close Itadori's room was to yours certainly wasn't helping. You'd liked the guy for a while, his kind while sometimes a bit childish nature catching your eye. Then combined with your shared memories of Sukuna, thanks to your own curse, you were whipped to say the least.

Stumbling out of your room to get another water bottle to try and cool yourself off some, you froze at the sight of Itadori stumbling down the hallway towards you. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, jumping a little when he finally noticed you.

"H-hey, you're back!" His voice was lower, and scratchy from just waking up. You tried not to think about how else you'd like to hear his voice.

"Yeah... What're you doing up?" Leaned back against the wall, you made sure to keep some distance between the two of you.

Oblivious as ever, he moved to stand right in front of you, laughing a little. "Just getting a midnight snack, what about you?"

Gods he smells good- "Water." You grit out, unable to look at the other. Even in the dim lighting he looks good.

Shuffling back towards your room, you stuff your hands in your pockets. You couldn't be around him for too long; as in control of yourself as you normally are, you didn't trust yourself to not pin the pink-haired male to the wall and-

No, don't even think about it. You don't want to freak him out, you idiot.

"Are you ok? You don't look too good," the good-natured idiot came even closer, trying to look into your eyes. It was hard to see your flushed face in the dark, but he knew you enough by now that he could tell something was wrong.

You had to bite your tongue, not wanting to say anything about your rut, and besides you didn't want to focus on just how close he is, or how you could practically hear his heartbeat- or was that your own?

"'M fine. Just- I'm going back to sleep." You didn't wait for a response, though you could hear him ask about your water, and you quickly closed your door and dropped onto your bed with a heavy sigh.

. . .

"What was that about...?" he wondered aloud, a little worried. You were never really the super upbeat type of person like himself or Nobara, but you seemed grumpier than usual and he didn't like to see you upset. When you two had first met, he could hardly get a word out of you, but that was a long time ago; he hoped something hadn't happened to you, or worse that he'd done something.

Eventually deciding to get his snack, and a water bottle that he left by your door, Yuji went back to his room. He curled up on his bed with whatever he'd grabbed out of the pantry with a sigh. As a mouth formed on his hand, he frowned but waited for Sukuna to speak.

"You can tell something's different about them, can't you?" The curse grinned, knowing something his host didn't.

"Obviously. Why?" Though he'd gotten more used to Sukuna's presence, he still didn't trust him. To be fair, he hasn't given much of a reason to trust him.

Still speaking into the darkened room aloud, Sukuna pulled his memories to the front of his mind and sharing them with Yuji in turn. "You see, the curse your little friend shares a body with," an old memory, but it was clear as day. She had an almost scary resemblance to you. "We were lovers."

Yuji nearly choked on his food, surprised that the King of Curses could have had a lover, let alone said lover now inhabiting the body of his crush. It clicked in his mind after that moment why he always felt so drawn to you, even before the crush on you had developed.

"What happened?" While he didn't know why, he'd known of Sukuna's aversion to the other curse; he'd made it clear from the moment when you and Yuji had met.

"...She died." The curses voice rang in his head, the lips on his hand pursed into a frown. "She died, but even then our bond didn't break. Though she surely hates me now." He huffed and though he acted like he didn't care, Yuji could feel his concern, as strange as it was.

Though he could barely wrap his mind around all this, Sukuna still hasn't told him what was wrong with you. "So why are they so upset?"

At that, the mouth on his hand shifted. "They're going through a rut because of the nature of their curse, and they don't want to get you involved. Some ridiculous self-sacrificing act I'm sure." Yuji opened his mouth to ask what he could do, but Sukuna got there first. "It'll pass on it's own, though it won't be pleasant. There is something you could do though, if you can convince them."

He waited, getting impatient for the curse to get to the answer he was looking for.

"If you fuck, the rut will pass after." The blunt answer made his whole face and neck flush a dark red.

It took a minute to process the idea, letting everything sink in. You were ok, thank goodness, but because of your curse who also happens to be the lover - ex-lover? - of Sukuna, you are going through this rut and if you, his crush, fucked him it would pass. It was a lot to take in, so he decided that he'd sleep on it, then go to you tomorrow night. Obviously you didn't want them to know about this, but if there was something he could do, even if he was a little lot nervous to ask, he wanted to do it.

. . .

You couldn't stop thinking about Yuji. Your heart was pounding, and though it has since calmed down you certainly haven't. He was close enough you could see flecks of red in his eyes, close enough that you could've kissed him. You'd wanted to, that was for sure. But you didn't want to ruin your friendship with him, afraid of any number of things.

The two of you had a rocky start; you knew about him, and being Sukuna's vessel, though he had no idea of your existence until you'd met. With only what you knew about Sukuna, both from other sorcerers and your own curse, you were wary of the boy and didn't stick around him long enough to give him a chance to explain. But eventually, with a little help from Gojo, you two made up and became fast friends, the group often having meals together when no one had a mission.

It took awhile for you to realize what your feelings were on Yuji, simply writing it off as a different brand of friendship. It wasn't until yuji nearly died for a second time, and you weren't there to save him; you were so afraid that you'd never get to see him again, never hug him, never make dinner for the others again, laughing about this or that. You realized that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, and you were afraid you'd miss the chance to tell him.

"You love him." The curse had said. "You're meant for each other. Like soulmates." She'd said, telling you what you were coming to realize yourself.

But you shook your head now, feelings not something you wanted to dwell on as it got later into the night.

Tossing around for a while in the messy sheets on your bed, you finally gave up and threw them off along with a majority of your pajamas, body too hot for comfort. Left in a pair of boxers, you buried your face into your pillow and groaned. Your thoughts drifted for a while between being too hot, sweat still sticking to your skin despite the fan at top speed, and your pink-haired crush.

You've always thought he was attractive, even before you got to know him. His bright smile lighting up any room, an aura of innocence around him. Then his strong physique, though you usually don't see it much between his hoodies and the Jujutsu tech uniform, but man, when you did; you'd like to run your hand over his abs, curious if they feel as strong as they look.

You wanted to touch him in a lot of places, really. His arms, definite muscle, but not too ridiculous like Todo's(Sorry Todo simps). His soft hair, though you've felt it before patting his head, being a bit taller than him and teasing him about it. His thighs, and definitely his ass. And you could only imagine the size of his package.

Biting your lip, you hadn't realized your hand drifting down your body as your thoughts turned, letting out a shaky breath. You'd definitely feel bad about it later, but right now you could only think about your hand being Yuji's as it rubbed against the bulge in your boxers. Flipping onto your back and pulling your underwear to your thighs, you shivered as the cold air hit your skin, sweltering as it was.

Even with your room being fairly soundproof, you kept your voice low, the idea of the object of your thoughts catching you both exciting you and making you anxious. You stroked lazily along the shaft, hips stuttering into your hand the closer to the edge you got. The thought of Yuji crying your name sent you over, dropping your head back as your orgasm washed over you.

After calming your breathing down, you cleaned yourself off. Despite feeling all sweaty, you didn't want to get up. Sighing, you decided you'd shower in the morning after the others left. It didn't take much longer to fall asleep, thankfully.

. . .

You woke up laying half off the bed, even the natural warmth your pile of blankets held getting to be too much during the night. You felt gross. Luckily, you couldn't hear anyone, probably out for lunch, so you could shower in peace.

Leaving your room in just a thin pair of sweatpants and a tank top, your grumbling stomach making your hunger known - you apparently didn't get enough food like you'd thought. You noticed a water bottle beside your door, grinning slightly as you knew who put it there. Shaking your head, you picked it up to bring with you; Yuji would probably try to talk to you when he got back, clearly worried about you. It's cute, but you wished you had a good way to explain your situation without him trying to help.

As much as you would like the idea, you didn't want to make it seem like you just wanted to use him to get through your rut. You wanted him so much more than that, but you couldn't say that, could you.

Quickly grabbing some more snacks, you hid away in your room again, growing tired of your four walls. With your ruts usually lasting around a week, you dreaded having to stay in your room for much longer, but you didn't want to be going on missions in your state.

. . .

The day seemed to go by agonizingly slowly, for the both of you; you in your room with only what you had with you for entertainment, and Yuji waiting anxiously to talk to you. Sukuna had told him earlier that it'd be best to try to talk to you once the others were asleep, as you'd probably be asleep most of the day anyways. That was usually the case, if you could you'd sleep as long as you could to avoid dealing with your body all out of wack.

Finally though, just as you were going to try and go to sleep, a knock sounded at your door. Yuji had to hype himself up to do it, with roundabout encouragement from Sukuna, his thoughts running rampant. 'What if you thought he was weird for asking? What if you got upset with him? What if it ruined your friendship? What if, what if, what if?' He was still fiddling with the hem of his sleeve when you opened your door, a faint look of surprise on your face. You'd started to think you were wrong, that maybe Yuji had forgotten about your interaction the other night or thought he'd dreamed it.

"Hey." You spoke softly, looking him over. He wasn't wearing much, similar to what you had on. He looked good in it.

"H-hey, um, sorry if I woke you, I just kinda wanted to talk?" Yuji smiled, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck.

You sighed, but nodded.

"So, y-you're," he blushed a little more, his cheeks already having been red, thinking about you most of the day - as well as what he planned to ask you. "You're in a rut, right...?"

Eyes widening, you blushed a bit yourself. "How'd you..." Your voice trailed off, confused.

Yuji tapped his cheek, "Sukuna, he told me. So... are you, o-ok?" He still wanted to make sure, even if he knew now what was happening and you confirmed it with your unsaid question.

After a moment, you opened your door wider and nodded your head back. "Y-yeah, just, come in and we can talk." You were careful to sit at the edge of your bed after closing the door behind Yuji. "What all did he tell you?"

"Everything, I think. The rut, the whole lovers thing between them," he gestured between you and himself, "and, um..." He looked away, unable to meet your eyes as he mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear. "The s-sex, thing."

Nodding in turn, you ran a hand back through your hair. "Right. So, why're you here then?" You could apologize for being harsh later, you wanted to make sure you didn't pounce onto him. And fuck the look he makes when he brings his eyes back to yours.

"I wanna help, a-any way I can." His face is completely red, so innocent looking, you bit your lip.

"I appreciate you wanting to help, but I can handle this on my own, Yuji."

You watched as he shuffled closer to you, take a breath and grab one of your hands. He looked into your eyes, so cute.

"Please, I want to help you! S-sukuna told me what it's like when this happens, and if I can help it, I don't want you to have to deal with all that!" Only Yuji could manage to look so sweet and innocent when talking about having you fuck him, even if it was just because of your rut.

He would look even cuter all fucked out, crying for you. You swallowed, looking him over again. You wanted to have your way with him, so badly, but you never wanted to put it on him like that. But... if he's asking you to fuck him. Well, maybe you could have him after all.

"...Are you sure about this, Yuji? I don't want you to do this just for me." But you do, really.

He nods, almost excitedly. To be fair, he'd be lying if he said he hasn't thought about you on top of him, fucking him into the mattress. He wanted you to feel better, and if he got to be with you in the process it was a bonus.

You smirk. "Words, Yuji."

His eyes widen, but he stammers out a soft, "Y-yes."

You bring your free hand to his waist, leaning in a bit closer. "'Yes', what?" Your eyes were darker than usual, clouded with lust, and it made a shiver run down the pink-haired males spine.

"Yes, I- I want to do this."

"Good." You press your lips to his, hungrily running your hand along the contour of his back.

He lets out a little noise as you kiss him, eyes fluttering closed. Fumbling with the hand not holding yours, he finally places it on your shoulder. You could hear his heartbeat, this time sure it was his, though yours was quickly picking up to match it. His lips are so soft, just like the rest of him, a bit of squish to him along with his muscle; you gave in to your wants and felt everything, moving from his back to his arms, down along his chest, squeezing his ass. He yelped at the feeling, and you took the chance to slip your tongue into his mouth.

Submissive through and through, he didn't fight it, but it was clear he didn't quite know what he was doing. But you didn't mind teaching him, spurred on by the little sounds he was making, almost whimpering. Unclasping your hands, he moved his opposite his on your shoulders and you let yours to wander beside the other.

His body was more than you'd imagined, and his sounds were downright sinful. You were just getting started though, pulling his shirt off and pressing not-quite-rough kisses along his jawline and down his neck to his collarbone. You hit a spot that made him whine, and you grinned, kissing and biting there. You could just see his expression from where you sat, pressed into his skin, and it sent heat straight to your core.

Gripping at your back, Yuji pulled you closer, entranced by you. "F-fuck, (y/n)..." His voice was soft, almost shaky as his breath stuttered the longer you nipped at his neck. He tugged at your shirt and you pulled away just long enough to take it off, taking his turn to admire your body.

Leaning forward, you caged your hands around his head, his wrapped around your shoulders. You kissed down his chest, taking off his sweats, surprised to find that he hadn't put any underwear on, and when you looked up at him he had his head turned to the bed.

You hummed, raising a brow at him. "You really wanted to get fucked by me, huh? Ready for me and everything." You lightly traced random shapes on his now bare thighs, watching his cock twitch in response.

Yuji whined, nodding, but kept his face turned away from you. You gripped his chin, turning it back. "Words, remember Yuji?"

He did his best to not just whine again, "Y-yes, yes I want you!"

You just hummed again, "Say it."

This time he did whine, long and drawn out, "Ahh~ I w-want you to f-fuck me! Please!"

You kissed him, muffling his noises, only pulling away when you needed to catch your breath. "Good boy." You didn't give him a chance to respond, wrapping one hand around his length and pressing a finger of the other into his hole. Yuji shuddered, his words cut off by a shaky moan.

It didn't take long before you had three fingers in, with the way he kept begging for more, pawing at your pants. Taking the hint, you stripped down, your own dick mostly untouched now very hard. You look at him, making sure he still wanted this. He nodded, muttering 'please's under his breath between moans.

You kept stroking his weeping cock as you pressed into him, until you bottomed out and you let him rest for a moment and get used to you inside him. He surprised you, rutting his hips into yours as his head dropped against the bed, body quivering under you.

"Fuck, fuck me, fuck me-e p-please!" Yuji whimpered, words punctuated as he grinded against you. You were right, he looked so pretty when he was whimpering and moaning for you.

Something in his voice made whatever restraint you'd been holding onto snap, thrusting into him at a merciless pace, though he didn't seem to mind, moans rising in volume and pitch. His eyes rolled back, and all you could hear besides his moans were broken pleads and your name. You had your head in the crook of his neck, and you growled, going from nips and kisses to biting, leaving large hickeys in your wake.

"I- I'm g-gonna- F-fuuu-uuu-ck-" The loudest moan he'd made throughout the night interrupted him, hips stuttering as he came, painting his stomach white. You came not long after, his body clenching around you so well. You were both panting, at some point Yuji had wrapped his legs around your waist, and you slowed to a stop still inside of him.

You pulled away to make sure he wasn't hurt, and you stopped when you saw tattoos that hadn't been there a moment ago. They must've switched accidentally, if the faintly confused look was anything to go by. But when the curse started bucking his hips, you growled.

"C-come on, I know you can take me too," he taunted, but the effect didn't work as well as he wanted when his voice was so broken and he moaned when you hit that one spot.

You huffed, but you grinned. "Who knew the king of curses was a fucking brat?" Thrusting once to make a point, he shuddered, still full of you. "At least I won't mind if I rough you up a bit."

Sukuna chuckled, sharp nails digging a little more into your shoulders. "You c-couldn't break me if you tried."

With that, you started up that same rough pace, smacking his ass. It was almost strange, not quite muscle memory leading you, moving to make him cry out the most. It was still Yuji's body, but with Sukuna in control, it snapped something into place between both of you.

'Soulmates'. You were brought together like this for a reason.

He kept trying to taunt you, but his words would always break away into a whine when you bit in just the right spot, or you'd smack him a little harder. Finally, he couldn't speak anymore than moan, pulling himself into you as he clawed at your back and shoulders. His voice broke as he came again, nearly crying as you sped up even more as you got close to finishing. You bit into his neck as you came, riding it out, slowing down to a stop for the second time.

"Satisfied now?" You taunt, and he whines.

Slowly pulling out, both of you moaning at the loss, though he was much louder, you relaxed. Yuji switches back after a moment, shuddering at the feeling of your cum leaking out of his hole. You sigh, standing to go run a bath for the both of you, letting Yuji know before he closes his eyes just in case he falls asleep in the meantime. He nods, so you know he heard you.

. . .

You ended up curling up next to each other, wearing some of your clothes, after you pulled off the dirty sheets. As the sunlight streamed through your window, you woke to your arm wrapped around Yuji's side. It was a peaceful scene compared to last night, though you definitely enjoyed yourselves.

"mm... Morning." Yuji looked up at you, a small smile on his lips.

You hum. "Morning. You alright?" He chuckles.

"I should be asking you that. But yeah. 'Lil sore, but yeah."

Nodding, you grin in turn. He probably won't be walking straight for a little while. "Good... Thank you, for helping with- this." You frown a bit, gesturing to yourself. He cups your cheek, waiting for a moment before smiling wider.

"'Course. I wanted you to feel better," he blushes a bit. "Aaand I might've been wanting you to- f-fuck me for a while..." His voice trails off at the end, pulling away nervously. But you pull him closer.

"I'm glad, cause I've been wanting to fuck you for a while too. Probably cause I like you. A lot."

He grins. "Me too."

[ren-therose]

The Penthouse Plot

Sherlock X F!Reader (3.8k words)

Summary: Sherlock, John and Reader all go to a penthouse party to pick up some clues about their newest case. But Y/N and Sherlock are put in a compromising situation. 

Warnings: smut 18+, semi-public sex, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), creampie, squirting, after care

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We are going to a party”

This was an incredibly abrupt statement from the detective who was still in pajamas at four in the afternoon, slouched down into the arm chair with the news paper covering his face. I couldn’t see his emotions, but I could tell that the idea had already been formulated, and he had not quite been excited out of it. His boredom was chronic, and it would often times only be soothed by myself to get him out of it. 

The first time we met, I was sitting on a park bench in Paddington Street Gardens, not but two blocks away from his flat. As if drawn to the cigarette I was smoking, he walked up as casually as he could, coat turned up, and sat on the bench over from my left. I didn’t look, but I was aware that a tall, dark man was watching me as I tried to solve today's crossword in the paper. 

He leaned closer, trying to take in the smoke for the nicotine high. With a slight glance his way, it was all I needed to take the cigarette from my mouth in my left hand, and casually rest it on the bench next to me. I blew out the smoke to the right side of my mouth though, purposefully keeping it from him, allowing my lips to guide the smoke in a stream to dissipate into the morning air. Still looking at the crossword, I began filling in 20 across, feeling a sense of intrigue and frustration emanating from the man next to me. 

“It’s not diva, its aria,” a deep voice says. I smirk, not looking up to his face quite yet. 

“No shit, Sherlock. 18 down is ‘erie’, so why would I put down diva?” I inquire, but before he could answer, I reply myself. “I was proving my hypothesis: is the detective next to me just trying to second-hand smoke, or is he actually paying attention to me? And the answer was both.”

He stands and comes to sit on my right side, not looking at me directly. The cigarette dangling from my lip wasn’t his main concern anymore. 

“How quickly did you realize it is only an herbal cigarette Mr. Holmes?” I ask, erasing my trap from 20 across. 

“As soon as I first looked at you. You have no stains on your fingers from the smoke, as well as no burns, which tells me you don’t smoke often. If you were a smoker, you would need at least a pack a day, and these tell-tale signs would be there. You don’t need to smoke because there isn’t an addiction. I presume you do it to attract men, though possibly women too, and to fit into the culture of London, as you are not from here. But you specifically looked up this park because you were looking for something or someone. I would presume it is me, considering you recognized me through my name” he says smuggly, finally looking at me. I didn’t know it then, but he later explained that he was shocked to see the prominence of my “subtle beauty”, and the way in which I held posture in every way that symbolized I was relaxed next to him. This of course was followed by the fact that I was so comfortable that I had gained a pound within the first year of knowing him. 

“So you are as good as they say,” I reply, looking up into his clear blue eyes. Those eyes dart down to my lips where the cigarette is still being held by the moisture of my mouth. I remove it, holding out the cigarette between my fingers. “I can imagine it is worlds different from a regular cigarettes addictive effects, but the smell of smoke and the herbs inside might calm you,” I offer. He leans down and takes the cigarette in his mouth, inhaling deeply. I let go of the cigarette as he leans back and removes it. He exhales out, happy to have something other than CO2 leave his lungs. 

“You could have phoned” he said nonchalantly. I closed the newspaper and turned my body slightly more towards him. 

“No I couldn’t. This isn’t about a case or me looking for my parents or some shit. I needed you to listen. I am a doctor and I am looking for the topic of my next publication” I state. His eyes widen a bit, as he gives me a once over. I was quite young to have a doctorate, but the ambition I have was intriguing to him.

“Great, another doctor. And you must study some form of psychology right?” he implies. 

I chuckle as I brush the hair behind my ear to look at him as I explain my credentials. 

“BA in a social science and a minor in Women's Studies and Gender, just to make it easier on you. Two masters in something to do with policy and a knack for behavior trends across cultures. A PhD in…” I trail off to let him figure it out. 

“International Relations. You couldn’t let go of the need to work abroad and help other. You also study the difference in human behaviors and how it can be interpreted and persuaded. It is why you are now living in London, after living in a southern European country, and I’m going to go with Italy” he responds. 

I raise my eyebrow at him. “Italy was fun. I spent most of the time on the mainland with a friend and would visit their family in Sardinia”. 

“He was gay wan’t he?”

“Not that he himself knew.”

The detective laughed. It was the beginning of a friendship, with many late nights, bad coffee and fighting. I lived in the basement of 221 Baker Street, after coming to a bargain price with Mrs. Hudson if I agreed to get rid of the black mold and redo the space for future renters. When I asked her why she was already thinking of future renters, she just smiled and told me Sherlock's door was open and I could just walk in. 

Now, a year and a half later, I was in his flat, in my own night gown and robe, working on pot of tea to make a London foggy, one of Sherlocks favorite drinks I could make. I had told him that if he got to work in his pajamas, or just a sheet at times, then he couldn’t expect anything less of me. But his abrupt statement that we were going to a party had me do a double take. 

“A party? Are we feeling like clubbing tonight Sherlock?” I tease. 

“It is just a bit of field work. But I need you to come with as my date so that I am not bothered by lonely, sad women.”

“Ah yes. All the lonely, sad women will flock to the handsome, cocky detective for comfort and an inquisitive night,” I mock, bringing the tea to him. 

“Isn’t that what you did?” He says without looking up. 

Offended, I grab the paper from his hands and smack him on the head with it. He flinched, protecting his tea from me. 

“Haven’t you figured it out by now? I’m here for John” I say, tossing the paper into his lap. Sherlocks mouth slightly gapes before he snaps it shut, looking behind me. 

“I’m sorry, what did I just walk in on?” John says from the doorway. Sherlock turns red as I walk up to John, pulling my leg up on him, placing my hand on his cheek while giving him a lingering kiss on the other, maintaining eye contact with Sherlock. “Afternoon John,” I say with a flirtatious growl. He didn’t move since my dramatic act, and as I exited the apartment to get ready, I hear John exclaim “I could get used to that kind of welcome”. I laugh as I hear the paper get thrown at the doctor. 

Two hours later, and a lot of fighting with a curling wand, I hear a knock at my door. I do a once-over of myself in the mirror. It was a high-end party, requiring a more put together look, and I was determined to look my best. In helping Sherlock and John, I realized that I rarely dressed up-practicality and professionalism is key. 

I put my phone into my handbag, and slipped my feet into my black pointed stilettos. One more once-over in the mirror next to the door, and I unlatched the lock. As soon as I opened it, the detective couldn’t help but let his eyes wander. My hair was in loose curls around my face, and the dress, oh the dress, flattered my body in every way. It was a silk green dress, that hugged every curve. It was ruched in the sides, creating a tight draping across my abdomen. The fabric on my bust sat just below the tops of my breasts, and dropped to my off-the-shoulder sleeves. I was wearing a simple emerald necklace with matching earrings, and a ruby ring on my left hand. My legs were well accentuated, and the stilettos did wonders for my posture. Still, I was the same girl in pajamas at this now well suited man's place as I was now. 

“You’re giving yourself away Detective,” I flirt, walking by him to climb the stairs to the front of the building. I make extra care to add a little movement as I climb, knowing he would be right behind me and very distracted. It was my favorite game to tease both of the boys, but especially Sherlock. It was always a game, and he loved games. As I exited the building, John was waiting for us outside, also dressed sharply. His eyes widened as I walked towards him. 

“In the words of a great detective, ‘Your body betrays you’ John. It’s still me inside this get-up. Now where is the cab?” I ask. 

“Umm...uh, there hasn’t been an available one yet...” he forces out. 

London was busy on a Saturday night, and it could often be difficult to find a cab. Lucky for us, my dress is pretty reflective, and I was going to use that to my advantage. I stepped off the curb just slightly, jutting out my shoulder blades and putting my weight on one foot to give myself more shape. By the time I had raised my hand, two taxis pulled up. I heard a cough behind me, Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson both smirking at me. 

“I’m sorry, did you have a better idea?” I shoot at them. I open the door for myself and climb into the cab. The two men clambered in after me. 

The party was at a lovely high-rise in the middle of London. It looked to be a penthouse, but one grander than I had ever seen. As the three of us exited the elevator, we looked at each other once more, setting our plan in motion. John was to walk around and mingle, while Sherlock and I were to snoop about the place, looking for context clues. I grabbed a flute of champagne from one of the trays, and Sherlock and I began our promenade. We quickly realized that I was drawing a bit too much attention in my get-up and we would need to look around before people noticed we were gone. Our arms entwined, we strolled past the main crowd into a hallway, casually chatting the weather. The detectives hand was on my waist, holding tightly, as though I might leave his side. It was different than they way he usually grabbed my arm to move me around or out of the way of harm. 

We were looking for the bedroom of our hosts place, though, it did not seem there was one here. The penthouse was more of a party pad then a living space, which lends more to our profile of him. We continued to walk, and came across a study. His hand slid off my waist as he entered the room. I stood outside with my drink, while Sherlock took note of every little detail there. As he came out of the room though, I heard footprints coming round the corner. I grabbed his arm and pulled him into the bathroom next to the study. As I pushed him in, our eyes searched each other for the next move that we hadn’t initially planned. Though we were going as a date, it was never really a date. Until now. 

Grabbing the lapels of the detectives suit, I slammed my lips on his, pushing us both backwards onto the sink. Knowing that he was more recognizable. I spun him around so that my back was to the sink and his was to the door. I jumped on to the sink, hiking up my dress a little higher, so that I could hook one leg around his waist. Instinctively, his right hand went to my leg to hold it up, and his left hand was in my hair. 

His lips. I had seen them a million times before, studying his face as he rambled about a case. While he was just a colleague and possibly a friend, there were a few times when I would fall asleep thinking about those lips. And here he was, kissing me on a bathroom sink at a party, with enough force to make me melt into it. My hand went to his hair, as he began to trail kisses down my neck, hiding his face in me so that his reflection could not be seen. My other hand was gripping his waist, trying not to slip into the sink itself. My shoe was dangling on my toes as our bodies continued to crash. We heard the door click open, and my eyes opened to see the host and his assistant wide-eyed at us. 

“Occupied,” I panted, smiling with a small wave. The two quickly shut the door, their footprints receding down the hallway. As soon as it was quiet, Sherlock froze on my collarbone, neither of us moving for a moment. I removed my hand from his hair, trying to pat it back into place. He stood up, and looked down at me. My dress had ridden up further, and my black lace panties were definitely on display. So was the red in both of our faces. I glanced over his shoulder to look at the door, realizing that there was a lock on it. Sherlock didn’t look back. He kept his eyes on me. 

He knew there was a lock. He wanted the situation. He wanted to get caught.

“Lock it” I demanded.

He took a few steps back and turned the button, locking the door. His eyes didn’t leave me. I was still propped up against the sink, both hands propped up behind me. My legs had still been open, and as his eyes raked over my body looked, I grew self-conscious and went to close them. But he stepped towards me, grabbing my lower thigh. I hesitantly opened myself back up for him. His hand moved up my thigh, while the other wrapped around my waist, drawing himself closer to me. I placed a hand on his chest, running it up until it was at the nape of his neck, playing with his soft, black curls. I gently tugged him toward me, and our lips attached once more. This time, it was more more sensual. Taking the time to just allow ourselves to feel one another. As he pulled away, I let out a small gasp as I felt his growing bulge against my clothed core. 

He seized the opportunity to kiss me again, letting his tongue wander and explore my mouth, pulling me as close as I could be to him. He pushed himself against me, causing a soft moan to escape, as I involuntarily rolled against him. He smirked against my mouth, moving once more against me. I hissed, feeling myself grow wetter. 

Sherlock pulled me off the sink, wrapping both of my legs around him before pinning me against the wall. I was sitting just on top of his cock, and the friction was even more frustrating. I grinded down on him, kissing his neck, while leaving small bites in between. I needed more though. I unwrapped my legs, and he lowered me to the ground. When he placed me down, I kissed him with passion while I started to undo his trousers. He walked backwards to the sink, leaning up against it, as I palmed him through his suit. His low groan made me quiver as I licked a long stripe up his neck to his ear, wear I softly bit the lobe. This drove him crazy.

Pants still undone, he whipped us around so that I was against the sink again. He pulled my dress up enough so that he could hook his fingers in the lace of my panties and pull them down. He lifted me up on to the sink to get them off of me. He worked them past my heels, and placed both of his hands on my thighs, rubbing circles into them with his thumb. His forehead was resting on mine and we were both breathing in sync. I opened my legs for him, as he traced his way between my legs. The violinist in him was showing, and he was going to work out the tension and boredom he had been feeling all day. His fingers came in contact with me, running through my folds. He went from my clit down to my opening, just toying with me. I let out a whimper as he placed his middle finger just barely inside of me. He slowly pushed his digit inside of me, causing a guttural groan to escape. I bucked into his hand, desperate for more. He pumped it casually, as if he had done this to me a million times and knew how I would react. He then slipped a second finger into me, causing me to emit another moan. 

“Please Sherlock. No games,” was all I could manage. 

He began to pump his fingers in a come-hither motion, curling them to hit my g-spot. I gasped with every movement, keeping as quiet as I could. He was working his way to get me as wet as I could be for him. I was starting to feel the tension in my stomach build when he placed his thumb on my clit and made sharp movements with it. I cried out, gripping his shoulders for support. I was going to need him soon if he wanted to me to finish with his cock inside me. But he kept pumping and rubbing, watching as my face conveyed every emotion he had ever made me feel. My arm wrapped around his neck, as I could barely keep myself up anymore. 

“Sherlock, you-you’re gonna..m-make me..c-cum…” I stutter out. I am rocking against his hand, chasing what I can’t stop. This only urges him more, as he quickens his pace. Without warning, I cum all over his finger with a cry. But he doesn’t stop. He continues to work my pussy, until I gasp out “I’m...I’m gonna squirt”. He steps out from between my legs, his fingers not stopping. As he steps to the side, he leans in to my ear and finally says something. 

“Show me”. 

It was all it took for my orgasm to elongate itself, as I squirted on his hand. I couldn’t stop and was shaking, barely able to keep myself up. I almost crumpled backwards before he caught me. Once again, he was between my legs, his hands on my neck and waist. I reached for his painfully hard cock, pulling it from his pants. I started stroking him, causing his eyes to flutter close. I was still coming down from what he had done with just his fingers, but I needed his dick inside me. I looked up at him, and said something that I knew would only boost his ego, and he would probably use against me later. 

“Mr. Holmes, I need you inside me, now”. 

His eyes shot open, as I looked back at him with lust-blown eyes. My hand was still wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping him. He and his god-complex were completely enamoured with my new take of teasing him. I lined his cock at my entrance, but not before teasing him through my folds. Just that little movement caused goosebumps to erupt on my skin. As I put his tip in my entrance, he searched my eyes once more for the consent he needed. I pushed myself onto him a little, letting him know he could take me. He leaned in, pushing his length all the way into me. I let out a loud gasp, wrapping my arm around his neck once more, my other hand on his back. I was still throbbing from my previous orgasm, and I knew he could feel my warm pulse inside me. He slowly pulled out, and then quickly sheathed himself inside me again. Our pelvises were against each other and his gently movements drove me crazy. I let out a cry of ecstasy, letting my head roll back, exposing my neck. He kissed it gently, and then, lifted me off the counter and back against the wall. All I could do was struggle to remain quiet as he began quick thrusts deep into me, relentlessly hitting my sweet spot. He was open mouthed against my neck, breathing erratically as he continued to hold me up. 

“You feel, s-so g-good,” I moaned, urging him to continue. He loved it when I complimented him, he had always been that way. But to be inside me as I told him how much I loved his cock, it was heaven for him. The guttural sounds from his throat proved to me that he felt the same.

“Y/n, I’m not gonna last much longer” he said, as though it would deter me. As he began to remove himself, I grabbed his face to look at me. 

“I want you to cum inside, Detective,” I whisper, wrapping my legs tighter around him to prove my point. 

His eyes widened searching my face as I was in taking all of him, bouncing on his dick in a penthouse bathroom, loving everything he did. Seeing what he could do to me, looking into my eyes as I stifled my moans, he began to stutter inside of me. I was on the edge too, and when his hot rope of cum shooted inside of me, my own orgasm exploded, milking him of the rest of his cum. 

When we had both stilled, frozen with him still inside me, we could hear the party still going and the noise of London below us. He pulled his softening cock from me and as he did, our cum dripped down my thigh. My legs were incredibly weak, as he continued to hold me up. I reached for a hand towel to clean me up, but he beat me to it, wiping up and between my legs, careful not to cause pain from the sensitivity. He picked up my underwear that he had tossed on the ground somewhere, and helped me step back into it. I was still shaky if I bent my legs, but I knew he would hold me up. As we looked at each other, there was something new we both saw. Romance. The sexual chemistry that had been there was a response to the catalyst of romance. 

Before we could discuss the aftermath of our actions though, there was a loud banging on the door. Smoothing out my dress just past the door, Sherlock opened it to find John, arms crossed, waiting outside.   

“Are you shitting me Sherlock? You look like you just took a hit of something. Did you seriously lose Y/N at this party because you were trying to get hi…”

The door widened to reveal me, just behind Sherlock, makeup slightly down my fae, and both of our hair tousled. I smiled at John, knowing it wasn’t what he had expected. His jaw dropped, “Tha..you were,,,um...has this been long or...?” Dr. Watson stuttered. 

“No John, that was the first time and it won’t be the last” he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me past him. 

“Don’t be too jealous John,” I said with a wink. 

John didn’t know what to say except, “Are we done here?”

Sherlock and I walked arm in arm down the hallway, casting back a look at John as if to say “What do you think?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~

This was my first oneshot and was it trash? Yeah, maybe. So if you know me, no you don’t :)

Leave suggestions if you’d like, I’m writing smut I can’t find. 

[wishesunderthestars]

Eunoia // Ch. 11

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognition, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 9.9k+

Warnings: Abuse and violence, mentions of past sexual abuse, injuries and blood

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

A/N: The taglist for Eunoia is now closed.

“Zayn, I promise I’m right around the corner,” you said into the phone. “I went home for lunch and it took a little more time than I had expected.”

You heard the singer laugh on the other end of the line. “It’s alright, you are always on time. I can excuse this one. You aren’t even that late.” You checked your phone to confirm what he was saying. Six minutes late. Not that bad.

“I could be a little earlier. I parked the car at the usual parking spot so I’m really just around the corner.” You looked back at Jimin. He had stopped walking and was looking behind him. Some shop window had probably caught his attention. There were many charming independent shops in the area. “By the way Jimin is with me, he wanted to get out of the house. I didn’t think you would mind.”

“I don’t,” Zayn said. “I would like to see the lad again. You talk so much about him, about all of them really, it would be nice to actually see him instead of hearing about him.”

“I mean…” You paused. “C’mon, I don’t talk about them that much.”  

Zayn huffed. “Keep telling yourself that. But I’ll let you have this one. Other than them and work, do you even have any other news?”

“I totally have other news.” Zayn waited. It was slightly worrying that you came up empty. “I’m drowning in work, okay? What other news would I have? Ehhh, have you met Astrid?”  

In the short silence that followed, you could hear Zayn rolling his eyes. “Taylor’s hybrid is hardly news, she adopted her a month ago. You were literally together in Nashville. And did you forget I told you that last time I met up with Taylor Astrid was with her? Do you listen that well to what I’m saying?”  

“Oh, right. I had wanted to come too, but you know work-” You were cut off by the sound of quick footsteps on the gravel behind you. Not many people wandered these streets. You turned back in time to see Jimin running in the opposite direction down the street. “Jimin!” You shouted. He didn’t stop. He should have heard you. With his hybrid hearing, he should have heard you. “I have to go. We’ll be more late.” You ended the call and took off.

You thanked whatever deities could hear you for deciding to wear sneakers instead of high heels to work. When you had important meetings with the higher ups of the film studios, you would dress nicer and high heels were etiquette at this point. Lucky for you, this day you didn’t have any meetings of that kind but rather a more active role as the director. High heels would only slow you down.

Chasing Jimin down the streets, you were glad nothing was slowing you down. You called his name again and again but he wouldn’t reply, just kept running. Your mind jumped to the worst things that could have happened. No one was chasing him, other than you. He wasn’t running away from someone, unless… Unless he was running away from you. But no. Jimin wouldn’t do that. He had no reason to run away from you. He had been a little strange before and something was certainly off but he wouldn’t run away.

You didn’t let yourself entertain the thought anymore, just put one foot in front of the other as fast as you could. Your heart was racing but it wasn’t solely because of running.

Around a corner, in a small alleyway nestled between a small art shop and a closed down building, Jimin had stopped. You stopped too. A large graffiti in blue spray paint read “The world isn’t fair, why should we be?”.

“Jimin?” you repeated quietly, it felt wrong shouting here.

Jimin was frozen in the middle of the alley, his eyes wide. His hands were fisted at his sides, they were shaking. Someone was standing against the wall.

Jimin went to take a step forward but a hiss stopped him. “Yoongi?”

“Step back,” the man said. Black cat-like ears were turned back, their fur blending into his pitch black hair. Narrowed dark eyes regarded Jimin. Jimin didn’t back down.

“Yoongi, it’s me,” Jimin said, albeit with a little less confidence. His eyes were open and vulnerable, staring at the other hybrid like he was a dream he was too afraid to wake up from, yet he wasn’t sure if he should call it a nightmare. “It’s Jimin, don’t you remember me?”

Yoongi didn’t reply. His shoulders were drawn high in tension, making more obvious the teared up fabric on his shoulder. It wasn’t the only tear on his clothes, his jeans were ripped in a way that didn’t look intentional and the hem of his shirt was torn and scuffed. One of his hands was tightly clutching a baseball cap. “Stay away from me.”

 There was so much pain in Jimin’s eyes. All you wanted to do was gather him in your arms and hold him until it was gone, but something was holding you back.

 “I looked for you. In the shelter and in the streets. I tried to find you for years.” Jimin’s lip trembled. “Where have you been?”

 Yoongi looked away. “You don’t want to know.”

 “Please,” Jimin whispered and you could hear the heartbreak in his voice. “I-I’m so sorry.”

 That made Yoongi’s head shoot up. “You’re sorry? What-”

 Just then, your phone started ringing. Both hybrids looked at you. Alarmed, Yoongi backed further into the alley. Perfect timing. You thought Zayn must be calling you, asking you what had happened and where you had gone, but it was Namjoon. Wary of the deadly glare Yoongi was sending your way, you declined the call.

“Who are you?” Yoongi hissed. The fur on his tail was standing on end and you could imagine him pouncing on you and tearing you apart with his teeth. You hadn’t been as nervous around a hybrid as you were at the moment. With Namjoon, it was more wariness than anything else. But this time a thread of fear was slithering up your arms. There was dried blood on Yoongi’s knuckles. There was no John this time and you didn’t have only yourself to worry about.

 "She's my owner," Jimin replied for you. It wasn't the way you would have phrased it and Yoongi's eyes narrowed further until they were nothing more than twin slits. "Yoongi, please," he said again. You didn't know what he was pleading for.

 "She's your owner?" Yoongi spat out the word like it was the worst of insults.

 You had a very bad feeling about this.

 Jimin clenched his jaw, standing up straighter. "She isn't like him, she's nothing like him. She saved me."

 Yoongi didn't say anything. His back was one with the wall by now.

 Jimin averted his gaze, shoulders slumping. "I-I missed you. I thought... I thought he had done something to you." He hugged his frame, making himself look smaller. "I thought he hurt you," the last words came out as a whimper.

 Yoongi was quick to shake his head. "He didn't, he didn't hurt me. You shouldn't have worried about me. You shouldn't be thinking about me."

 "But I was! I still am!"

 Yoongi looked away, he didn't move from the wall. It was clear the two hybrids knew each other but there were too many things you couldn't make sense of. Yoongi must have been someone important to Jimin if he had chased him all the way here and by what they were saying he had something to do with Jimin's past owner. You had assumed Jimin had been alone with that vile man, you hadn't considered having someone there with him. Someone he seemed to care for. Maybe he had met him at one of those parties Jimin had mentioned his owner liked to take him to, or he was one of his friends' hybrid.

 Your brain was in overdrive but your body was rooted on the spot. You didn't want to intrude but you were worried. Meanwhile, you only had limited time before you had to get back to work...

Stupid brain, you cursed. This was such an important moment for Jimin and here you were thinking about work.

 “I have to go," Yoongi said, pulling himself away from the wall.

 "No!" Jimin protested loudly, moving as if he was going to reach for the other hybrid. "I have been looking for you for years. Don't go. Please." He had been saying please a lot today.

 Although Jimin didn't touch him, the other hybrid stopped, as if he was unable to leave Jimin behind when he was calling for him. His fists were clenched at his sides and you could see the dried up blood on his knuckles better. It looked like he had left the blood clog up for a day or more instead of cleaning it. It would be easy to get an infection, especially with the dirt and grime all over his clothes and skin.  

"Is she treating you right?" Yoongi asked after a few moments of silence.

 Jimin's eyes widened at the question, brimming with tears. You held your breath. "She's my family." He glanced at you. "She taught me how to cook. She takes care of us and she lets us dress any way we like. She lets us go out alone, too, I haven't yet but I could... We went to the lake and we stayed there all day and had a picnic and... and... I'm- I'm happy. I'm happy, Yoongi."

 Yoongi lowered his head. "You deserve to be happy," he said quietly but even your human hearing picked it up. He took a step forward.

"Wait." You were surprised to hear your own voice. "You should disinfect your cuts, you could get sick if you leave them like this." Not your best, but enough to make his stop and look at you. Jimin gave you a hopeful look. "I have a medical kit in my car, I can clean them and if you want, then you can leave."

Yoongi's eyes narrowed slightly. His hands were shaking. "You know how to give first aid?"

 You nodded. "I have taken a few lessons, I know my way around it."

 "She's really good," Jimin confirmed. Neither of you could forget the night you had met. Purplish bruises, stark white gauze and fearful eyes.

 Yoongi's cat-like ears twitched. It didn't give you any specific answers as to the kind of hybrid he was. His tail was black as well, it stayed low as he contemplated your offer.

"I don't need your help, I'm fine, " Yoongi said. His eyes flickered to the other end of the alleyway. You could sense the internal battle going on inside him, vices gripping his body as he vibrated with something you were hesitant to call nervousness. His eyes locked with Jimin for a moment and his shoulder slumped slightly. "I don't need your help… but there is someone who does. Can you help him?"

 You ignored the suspicious glare and gathered all your confidence. "I can do my best."

 A small nod. "Go get your supplies."

 He stayed glued to the spot so you turned to Jimin. You cupped his cheek gently and said, "I'm going to the car, I'll be back in a moment." The cat hybrid nodded and you speed-walked to the parking lot, thankfully it wasn't too far away. You would have run if you hadn't already been tired from chasing Jimin. You grabbed the first aid kit from the trunk before rushing back. It was a medium sized box, containing all the essentials, from gauze, band-aids and disinfectant to various pills, like Advil and Claritin. "I've got it," you said when you arrived back at the alleyway, finding the two of them in the same spots you had left them.

 Yoongi glanced at you and the white medical kit, and then he was walking away. You took that as a sign to follow him. You slipped your hand in Jimin's, who gave you a small smile, and intertwined your fingers. This neighborhood housed one of your favorite coffee shops, the one you had planned to meet Zayn at, but you hadn’t wandered far from the quiet aesthetic streets with the colorful buildings and the tiny squares.

 As you walked further away, the scenery changed. More graffiti appeared on the walls. Words dripping in red and black. Slurs and protests. You kept Jimin close to your side. After ten minutes of walking, Yoongi stopped in front of a two-story building. The door was hanging off from only one of its hinges, as if holding onto a thread. Shattered windows, peeling paint on the walls and pieces of white plastic sheets angling from seemingly random places didn’t leave any room for doubt whether the building was abandoned.

Yoongi slipped in through the half opened door and disappeared in the partial darkness inside. Two balconies were situated above the door on either side, parts of them chipped off. You were worried they would fall on your heads at any any moment. You tugged Jimin forward and twisted your body to get inside without touching the door or the wall. Jimin did the same and you were faced with an empty room. You couldn't see much, sunlight didn't get in the house properly and the plastic sheets prevented most of the rays from passing through.

 The smell of rot drifted in the air and you could almost feel the dust swirling around. You resisted an instinctual cough. It was mostly in your mind, the feeling that dust was suffocating you, but your mind tricked your body quickly. You ignored it and walked further into the house, leaving footprints behind on the granite floor. The light got dimmer the further you went and your eyes had trouble adjusting. Jimin's eyesight was much better than yours and like cats he could see well in darkness.

 One of the rooms, with the dirtied floral tapestry peeling off from the walls, opened up to a grand staircase. Once upon a time it must have been beautiful, polished wood shining under the light of the chandeliers. You could imagine balls taking place here, women wearing beautiful gowns and men in tuxes made by the biggest names in fashion, mingling and sharing drinks. Now, the room was a ghost of its former glory, a place that belonged in a horror film instead of a period drama.

 Jimin's hand slipped from yours and you reached blindly for him. The room wasn't in total darkness but it was dark enough to make you nervous.

 In all of your observation of the staircase you hadn't noticed that there was something in the space under the stairs. A boy was curled up on a ratty blanket so thin, it must have been doing nothing to shield him from the cold granite underneath. Yoongi was kneeling next to him but you couldn't make out his features or if he was talking or not. You were too far to hear anything and the building was by no means quiet (you had a suspicion that a family of mice or cockroaches had made its home somewhere inside and you prayed you were wrong). You approached cautiously.

 "-alone. Please, don't go again. I'm fine," you could hear the boy saying as you got closer. His voice was croaky, from disuse or pain you weren't sure. He must have been the one Yoongi wanted you to help. You couldn't see him clearly but you could make out the ears peeking out from his hair. Another hybrid.

Yoongi was holding his hand. "You aren't fine, I had to do something. I brought help."

 The boy hadn't noticed you so far, he must have been pretty bad if he didn't hear you coming in and didn’t notice your scent. When his eyes landed on you he only curled up tighter with a whimper.

 "We're here to help you, not hurt you," you said, coming a little closer when Yoongi didn't hiss at you. You showed him the medical kit you were holding. "I only want to help if you let me."

 He didn't uncurl from the ball he had created with his body but Yoongi looked at you expectantly. You knelt on the floor next to the blanket, ridiculously aware of the dust and grime your expensive pants must be gathering. Your mind was jumping from one place to the next so it wasn't surprising that for some reason it decided it was worth it to worry about dirtying your pants. With Yoongi's help, you coaxed him out of the ball so you could start treating him. After turning on the flashlight on your phone, you handed it to Jimin, instructing him to keep it steady while you worked.

The boy clenched his eyes shut at the light, you wondered how long he had stayed here in semi-darkness.

You opened the first aid kit and took stock of the supplies inside, everything was there. You didn't know the extent of his injuries but his labored breathing and sharp flinches whenever he moved told you enough. In the artificial light, you took a better look at the boy laying on the floor. His hair was a reddish shade of orange. A fluffy tail was half-hidden behind his body. A fox hybrid. You had never seen once before.

The awe and curiosity didn’t last long. Your eyes were drawn on his swollen eye, a shocking purple painting his skin. It wasn't the only place tainted with color. His cheek had a purplish bruise as well and his lips were cut in two places. A trail of blood had dried underneath his nose.

"I'll start with your face, okay?" you asked, but the hybrid didn't reply, he just tightened his hold on the blanket. Taking off his clothes, to tend to the rest of the injuries you were sure were hiding underneath, would only make him more uncomfortable. You pulled out a water bottle from your bag, you were always carrying one with you, and poured a small amount on a white cloth. Before the cloth could touch his face, you spoke up, "My name is Y/N. Do you want to tell me your name?"

Wide fearful eyes turned to Yoongi, who gestured vaguely with his hand. "H-Hoseok," the boy whispered.

 "Hoseok," you repeated, testing the name on your tongue. "That's a nice name. I like the way it sounds." Gently, you dabbed the cloth on his bottom lip, the boy flinched at the contact. He didn't pull away so you continued. "I'm not a professional, I'm not a doctor or a nurse or anything. My profession is actually very different from that, though I did have to play nurse a few times. I would like to think I'm quite good at this by now. I've taken a few lessons, I was fascinated with first aid when I was younger. I don't even know why."

 You continued speaking while tending to the wounds on his face. Earlier in your life you had discovered that talking, or at least listening to someone speak, would take the other's mind off the pain a little. By the time you were finished with his face, you had told him the whole story of how you had come to learn first aid and how you had panicked and forgotten everything you had learnt the first time someone had fainted in front of you, only remembering what to do when a friend of yours had pinched you. Hoseok listened to everything you said silently, his lips curling up a tiny bit at the last story. Maybe you exaggerated a bit and you made way too many hand gestures for someone supposed to be tending to his wounds but it seemed to be working.

Yoongi helped him pull off his shirt and you heard a gasp from behind you as his torso was revealed. His body was toned but a few of his ribs were pushing out in ways they probably shouldn't. It wasn't too bad but it was clear he hadn't been eating well for some time. But that wasn't the worst and it wasn't what you noticed first. Large bruises littered his body and what looked like the imprint of a hand was left on his bicep.

Switching topics, you told him about your first time coming to Los Angeles. Hoseok let out a breath as you started speaking again. As you checked his ribs, you recalled your very first days in the city, when you had been as excited as afraid to go to University in a brand new city where you had no friends. He hissed at the contact, but didn't object otherwise. You observed the way he breathed, taking note of the heavy bruising over his ribcage. You applied salve over the area and all the other bruises on his torso and the few on his back, the front had taken the blunt of whatever had happened. You had a suspicion but didn't speak of it yet.

His right arm was broken, he was holding it immobile close to his body. One touch and you were certain of it. Disinfecting a rather large cut on his arm, you wrapped it in gauze after coating the injury in a thin layer of cream. The cream smelled awful and was a sickly green color but you could testify to how effective it was. You did your best to make a cast for the arm, you hadn't done it before outside of a class and it was more of a struggle than you had expected. When his arm was secured in the cast, you trailed off your recounting of a stupid fight you had with one of your cousins that resulted in both of you getting lost. You were done. Hoseok looked at you with wide eyes, as if asking you why you stopped.

"This is it, we're all done," you said, rubbing your hands together with hand sanitizer like you had before treating him. "When did he... get injured?"

"Why do you need to know?" Yoongi asked, at the same time as Hoseok croaked out, "Yesterday."

 "What pill I give him to relieve the pain depends on when he got hurt. Some kinds could slow down the healing process if they are taken less than 48 hours after the injury." Digging into the small suitcase-like kit, you handed him two paracetamol tablets along with the water bottle. There was still had some water inside. "It will numb the pain, it takes about an hour to work," you explained.

 Hoseok tentatively took the pills and bottle from you. He drunk the water in one gulp and you were reminded again that he might have gone without water for some time. "Thank you," he said, his eyes on the blanket.

You sighed, getting up from the floor and dusting off your pants. Just like you had expected, two white patches were left on your knees. "I'm afraid, other than a broken arm, you might have fractured one of your ribs. I noticed the area hurts more than the rest and you have some trouble breathing." Jimin who hadn't moved much while you were working, latched himself on your back. The situation was too familiar for him. The injuries, the smell of the disinfectant and the fear in Hoseok's eyes. And just like that night your heart was clenching, begging you to do more. It worked once, why wouldn't it again? The traitorous organ whispered.

 Yoongi had sat on the blanket next to Hoseok, who had crawled closer to him, his side touching leg. The silence is broken as your phone starts ringing again. You had set it on silent so whoever is calling you must have made many attempts. You are expecting to see Namjoon's name flash on the screen with the wolf and moon emojis, but instead it is the name of one of the producers.

 While tending to Hoseok, you had almost forgotten you had to be at work after the supposedly short trip to the coffee shop. You had to take this. At the other side of the staircase, close to a door that led to what must have been a dining room once, you answered the call.

 Everyone had been looking for you, worried about your absence. You had never been late to work before, often you would show up before you were scheduled to, in order to get some additional work done. Three missed call, that's how many times just the producer had called you. His worry soon turned into irritation, asking you why you didn't inform them and why you weren't answering your phone. They had called everyone close to you to find out what had happened and no one had any answers.

 You were more than an hour late. An hour you were supposed to spend guiding the actors and getting the first feeling of a few scenes. Those plans went down the drain.

 You peeked over the railing of the staircase. Jimin was standing closer to the space Hoseok was laying under the stairs. They were talking but they were being quiet and you couldn't hear what they were saying over the loud voice of the producer coming from the phone and your own too loud thoughts. You tried to explain yourself, staying as close to the truth as possible, which was admittedly difficult. In the end, you used the personal emergency card. Although the producer didn't sound convinced, he let you off, scolding you half-heartedly about calling next time instead of leaving them in the dark looking for you and thinking about the worst.

 Ending the call, you looked through all the ones you missed and the texts they had sent you. You replied to a few of the texts, giving the same answer as you had to the producer. There were several from Zayn, asking where you were and if you were okay. In the final one he asked you to call him as soon as you could. Guilt gnawed at your insides. You had left him alone waiting for you for forty minutes, until he was sure there was no chance of you coming. You were an awful friend. Namjoon had also sent you a few messages. Someone had called the land-line at your house. No word from you. You and Jimin had both disappeared. Cradling your heavy heart, you sent a message to Namjoon assuring him that Jimin was with you and you were both alright. You hoped that would be enough for now.

 Pocketing your phone you walked around the stairs. Closer to them you could pick up parts of their conversation. Yoongi and Jimin were arguing, silent tears streaming down Jimin's face. You held yourself back from running to him and pulling him away from whatever was hurting him. This was Jimin's battle, you would let him fight it. He rarely spoke of the demons of his past but they were many and frightening with long claws and sharp teeth.

 Jimin suddenly reached for your hands. "Tell them, tell them to come home with us. Please, they can't stay here. We have a lot of space in the house, they can take one of the rooms until he heals."

 Your mouth was faster than your brain. That was a problem you didn't have to worry about before but something was changing. "They can come home with us if they want." Yoongi hissed, ready to protest. "A fractured rib isn't a trivial matter, he would need medical supervision but I can guess you don't want to go to a hospital. I can tend to it until he gets better, he will need medication to relieve the pain and plenty of bed rest. This place will only slow his healing."

 "Yoongi, please. Let me..." He stopped with a sniffle. "Just come with us. I need you to come with us." That seemed to break any of the resolve the older hybrid had. Hoseok didn't react at all, remaining curled in on himself.

 "Okay, we'll come," Yoongi said. "We'll come, but we'll leave as soon as he's better.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

It should be way more surprising when you show up at the Castle with Jimin and two unfamiliar hybrids in tow. The initial surprise lasted only a few minutes before everyone just sort of accepts this. Namjoon was the most wary but you couldn't blame him, his instincts were screaming to protect his pack and while Hoseok in his condition was by no means a threat, Yoongi didn't exactly look friendly. Jungkook had hopped away soon after with Jin. The bunny hybrid wasn’t good with strangers. You suspected that he had inherited some bunny instincts that made him jumpy and easily afraid around predators.

You led the two new hybrids to the guest room with the two queen beds on the second floor, and like you had with Jin, you gave them the key. Yoongi looked at you suspiciously but didn't say anything. Hoseok fell asleep as soon as his body hit the soft mattress. Their reaction to the house had been similar to most people’s. Wide eyes and disbelief. It didn’t serve to calm Yoongi down, instead he looked like you had been leading him straight into some sort of trap.

 Jimin stuck close to you as you called John from your office. He was one of the first people your team had called, it just happened that the day they needed him was the day he hadn't accompanied you. He was fuming when he answered, worried out of his mind and, unlike the producer, he didn't let you off easily. You had been rash, forgot about any rational thoughts, put yourself and Jimin in danger, didn't call anyone for backup in case something happened. Those hybrids could have been serial killers for all you knew. The list went on and on.

 "I'm coming over as soon as I can," he said. "I have to see those hybrids for myself. You can't just go around picking up hybrids like they are new projects. What mess have you gotten yourself in this time?"

 "Hopefully, not too big of one," you muttered. "You don't have to come, really. I've got everything under control and it's your week off. I took the rest of the day off so I'll be home. I swear I'll call you if anything happens."

 "There is no way I'm leaving you in the house with two hybrids you just picked up from the street and decided to nurse back to health-"

 "One of them is fine," you interrupted him.

 Yoongi didn't have any visible injuries other than his bloody knuckles and a slit lip he wouldn't let you touch. Even if he had more, there was no way he would let you tend to them.

 "And that makes it better how?" John asked. "I mean, good for him he isn't injured, but that doesn't guarantee your safety. If he is fine, he could try something. Don't forget that hybrid's have human DNA too, there are bad apples regardless of how much you want to keep looking at the good ones. Just because it worked once, doesn't mean it will work again. "

 Jimin was sitting on the edge of your desk, his head tilted to the side. He could hear everything with his hearing. You ruffled his blond hair and he leaned into your touch. "It isn't the same," you said.

"Isn't it? It sounds awfully a lot like something I've heard before." John sighed. "It isn't that I don't trust your judgment, but lately you act then ask questions lately. I trust you but I don't trust everyone you take into your house. They could take all of your jewelry before they disappear or it could be much much worse."

 "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not completely defenseless." The first years John was assigned to you, he had decided to teach you the basics of self-defense. He couldn't always be with you and you  hadn't been able to throw a punch to save your life. The lessons had paid off and, although you were no black belt student, you could defend yourself to an extent if you had to. "I'm serious, you don't have to come over. What about Alice? She wouldn't want her father running off when he promised her he would spend the week with her."

 John huffed. "You are evil, using my daughter against me."

 "I will add it to my resume," you said. "I'm alright and I'm going to be alright. You know I'm not alone, if anything happens we can count on each other, and you can come in a few days when your break is over and check in."

 "I'll accept this only because I have heard Namjoon growl when he thinks someone in his pack is threatened," you felt warmth seep in your cheeks when John mentioned so casually that you were part of their pack, "and Jungkook has gained enough muscle in the last few months to launch a nice punch if he needs to protect himself or someone." It was difficult to imagine your sweet bunny hybrid punching anyone, especially given the way you had found him, but it was true that the time he spent in the gym paid off.

 John didn't come over. He stayed with his daughter because he had promised they would go to the zoo together as soon as she woke up from her afternoon nap. You went through a few papers after the phone call, reassuring yourself multiple times that the whole TV show wouldn’t crumble because you had taken one day off work (you really needed to work on your sense of self-importance). Jimin had turned his body on the desk so he could see what you were doing without taking up too much space.

 They would be fine without you. The conclusion wasn't hard to reach but you had tortured yourself a lot over it. Missing days of work was almost unheard for you. You scheduled your life around your work schedule, the breaks were on specific dates and you didn't need to take extra ones. To miss work, you had to be so sick you couldn't get out of bed without fainting.

 You put the papers in their respective folders and placed them back on the bookshelves. "Now that we are alone, do you think you can tell me what happened?" you asked, feeling Jimin's eyes on your back.

 "I-" He averted his gaze, his fingers wrapping and unwrapping on the hem of his shirt, wrinkles forming  on the material and smoothing out again. "I'm sorry."

 You walked around the desk, coming closer to him. "That's not what I wanted to hear. A warning before taking off would have been nice, though. My mind went to the worst possibility and you wouldn't answer my calls or wait for me."

 Jimin was about to apologize but stopped himself. "I couldn't lose him. I couldn't stop running, I couldn't lose him again. I couldn't really hear you... It was like a fog was over everything other than the path I was following. I needed to make sure it was Yoongi, that he was alright."

 You touched Jimin's thighs, situating him better on the desk so you were standing between his legs. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

 He hesitated before reaching for your hand and holding it in his. He brought it close to his face and started nuzzling on your wrist. He had told you your scent calmed him and he liked it when your scents mingled. Placing a kiss on the center of your wrist, he pulled back a little, keeping your hand in his.

 "He was there, in my old house," he said. "I was around sixteen when he was brought in. My owner didn't say why he was there but Yoongi is a panther hybrid, he could brag about him to his friend and he was also a guard. He was supposed to be protecting the house, to be protecting me. I was all alone there and then I wasn't. He was suddenly there and I wanted a friend so bad. Yoongi was gentle and he was kind, he would stay with me when I was feeling lonely. He cooked for me when he could, the food was delicious. I remember loving it but I'm not sure it was because of the food itself or because he was the one who had cooked it. Maybe both." He lowered his head, his cat ears pinned to his head. "We did something. We did something very bad. He took Yoongi away and I was returned to the adoption center. I never learnt what he did to him. I thought..." His voice cracked.

 You shushed him, stepping even closer and taking his into your arms. He wrapped his arms around your neck pulling you against his chest. "He's alright. You're safe here. This is a safe place."

 "I know," he mumbled into your shoulder. "I know."

 You cupped his neck with one hand, rubbing small circles with your thumb on his neck. "Do you trust him? Do you trust him to stay here until Hoseok recovers?"

 He nodded. "I trust him, I would trust him with my life."

 You held him in silence for some time, just feeling him breath against your chest. "What did you do with Yoongi?" you asked, curious. Jimin stiffened, you felt like he was holding his breath. "You don't have to tell me."

 His body relaxed a little, leaning on you. "I can't, we shouldn't have done it. We betrayed him. I couldn't hold myself back, I was weak. I'm stronger now, I promise. I wouldn’t be able to bear it if your hated me."

 What he said made you jolt back. Jimin whined lowly but you were quick to cup his soft cheek. "I could never hate you. Nothing in this world could make me hate you," you said, gazing into his watery eyes. Even with tears threatening to fall, he looked beautiful. "My Jiminie. Nothing you say will ever change my feelings about you. Your past doesn't define you. Whatever you did to that man, he deserved it."

 "But you don't."

 You didn't understand what he meant. "What?" You looked into his eyes but you only found sadness there. The small smile on his lips hurt more than his tears would.

 He sniffled. "Don't leave me. Don't throw me away," he pleaded.

 You squeezed his thigh, leaning your forehead against his. "Never, I'll never leave you. I will always watch over you, I swear."

“I’m not worth it. I’m not worthy of the care you give me,” he whimpered.

“You are. You are worth everything and so much more.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

 Namjoon was sitting on the largest couch in the living room, a documentary about ocean life playing on TV. His ears twitched a little when he heard you climbing up the stairs. You stayed standing for a moment, watching the screen as a blue whale emerged from the water shooting up a water water spray like a fountain. Their tails flapped against the water. Such magnificent creatures. They were endangered species, the man speaking explained, hunted and killed for their meat and blubber. On top of that, pollution, vessel strikes, entanglement in traps and nets and more.

If there was one thing humans knew how to do is destroy beautiful things.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asked.

You shrugged. “Shouldn’t I be asking that? Or some variation of it?” You turned away from the screen and settled on the couch, leaving some distance between you. “I didn’t have the chance to ask you before springing this on you.”

“I can handle it, I think,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t think Jimin left you much of a choice if he ran after him. If his mind is set on something, he won’t stop until he gets it.”

“Do you know anything about him? Yoongi? Jimin told me some things but he doesn’t want to say everything.”

Namjoon shook his head. “I didn’t even know he existed until now. Jimin never mentioned it. He doesn’t like talking about his past. I can understand, but then things like this happen. I just wish he shared more with us, so we could help him.”

“I know,” you agreed. “I feel the same. But it’s only temporary. In about a week Hoseok will be well enough to go. Not completely healed, that could take up to a month or more, but he will be better.”

He cracked a small smile. “You can’t really stand there doing nothing, can you?”

You couldn’t, could you? You had always been one to try to help in any way you could. It didn’t matter what the problem was, you wanted to help. An issue at work, a dilemma one of your friends was facing, human rights, poverty, hunger. Homeless injured hybrids. But you usually were careful, you would think the problem over, review all the points and then try to find a solution.

Since when did you throw caution to the wind?

You liked to pride yourself on your mind. You could see the things other people couldn’t and laid new paths when others hadn’t bothered to stray a foot from the blocked road. It felt like you were slipping.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you said, hiding your face in your hands. “Jimin was so sad and Hoseok’s ribs are fractured-”

Namjoon cut you off by tugging at your arm. He pulled you closer to him. “I trust you, you know I trust you.”

“That doesn’t always make things better,” you said, laying your head on his shoulder. “What if I’m wrong? What if you trusted me and I’m wrong? And, I don’t know, something really bad happens.”

“Then we’ll face the consequences together.” He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll tell you if I think you’re wrong and we will work it out. Now, I’m not sure. We don’t know what happened or why one of them has fractured ribs and a broken arm. I saw the blood on Yoongi’s hands. All we know is that he was part of Jimin’s past.”

The screen was darker as lion fish were swimming around the bottom of the sea, illuminated by blue light. They weren’t afraid of the diver, aware of the poison in their back spines, the narrator said.

You shuffled around a little, getting comfortable on Namjoon’s side. His arm snaked around your waist, settling on your hip. The words unsaid between the two of you were choking you.

“Jungkook came to me earlier,” he said. “He was crying. He told me he had done something horrible, something he couldn’t forgive himself for. It took me hours to calm him down. He said I needed to find Jimin and make sure he was okay. After what he had done, Jungkook said he wouldn’t want to see him again.”

You frowned. “Jungkook said that?” That sounded nothing like the sweet boy you knew. Sure, Jungkook liked joking around, teasing all of you and he could be very stubborn. But he looked at Jimin like he was his muse and whatever he created would be bland and pointless without him. “Jimin caught me last minute before I left the house. He didn’t look well, he was panicked. It was like he was trying to escape something. He didn’t tell me what happened and I didn’t want to push him and make things worse. Where is Jungkook?"

“At the atelier, Jin is there with him. I don't know what we'd do without him," Namjoon said. You agreed. Jin had slotted into your lives like he was always meant to be there. "What about Jimin? Wasn't he with you?"

"He came with me to my office, before I came upstairs he said he was tired and he left to go to your room."

 The sun was setting outside, the sky turning navy as the colors of the day receded. You felt like only a few minutes ago you had been about to walk out the door to meet up with Zayn.

 Namjoon's hand was rubbing your arm up and down, the touch calming something deep inside you. You had so many questions, so many doubts about what you were doing. There were so many ways this could go wrong. Jimin was in a fragile state. If what Jungkook had told Namjoon was true to some extent, Jimin would be in a really bad place. On top of that, a person from his past showing up could ruin all his progress. Most of all, you were afraid your Jimin would get hurt.

 "You're thinking too loud again."

 You groaned, burying your head in his shoulder. "I'm not." You turned to the TV trying to erase the look on your face. The deepest parts of the sea were home to so many creatures. Small and large, all of them had adapted to live in darkness. Adapting. Such an interesting skill.

 You squirmed in Namjoon's arms, he loosened his hold on you so you could sit up straighter. You hadn't talked about the night when you had been beating yourself up for saying the wrong thing, Jin's retreating form, head lowered, haunting you. Namjoon had a way to make your brain go quiet, something you hadn't learnt how to do regardless of how much you tried. You had been floating and for once you had fallen asleep without tossing and turning.

 But you hadn't talked and you couldn't decide if it was better that way or if it would only serve to torment you further. The doubts came, like they always did, and you weren't ready to deflect them.

 Namjoon's clever eyes were on you as you traced invisible swirls from his shoulder, his neck and up his face. Your knuckles ran over his cheek in a feather-light touch. His hand covered yours, bringing it to his mouth and placing a kiss in the center of your palm. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest.

 "Can I?" he asked, leaning closer. You could do nothing but nod. His lips touched yours gently at first, before both of you got lost in the feeling. This kind of kissing was reserved for books and movies, it wasn't something that was supposed to happen in real life and yet... How could you settle for anything less after this?

 This, this was something you could write about. Something to fill up all those blank pages taunting you. Paragraphs upon paragraphs attempting to describe that feeling spreading through your whole body. You could spend your whole life trying to put this moment into words and it would be worth it.

 You pulled back. A flush had crept up on Namjoon's cheeks and his hair was mussed. You probably didn't look any better. Hopefully, your makeup could cover any redness on your skin.

 Your hand was still in his, held against his cheek.

 "What are we doing?" you asked him, breathy from the kiss that had overtaken your whole being. "What does this mean?"

 "What do you want this to be?"

 Your lips twitched up. "I don't know, that's why I'm asking you."

 Namjoon combed a hand through your hair, twisting a strand loosely around his fingers before letting go. "It can mean whatever we want it to mean. Whatever we need it to be."

 On a moment, his back straightened and he looked at the stairs. You followed his gaze but saw nothing. A few seconds later, your human ears were able to pick up steps climbing up the staircase. You got up from the couch and straightened the wrinkles on your clothes. An itch to change into clean clothes nagged at you, preferably after taking a nice long shower, but there were still things needed to be done.

 Black hair was the first thing you saw before the rest of Jin came into view, but you had already guessed who it was by the careful steps he was taking. Living with them, you could distinguish between the ways they climbed up the stairs. Jungkook ran up, eager to reach his destination. Jimin occasionally skipped some steps, light on his feet like he was floating his way up. Namjoon's step were light as well and he was the most likely to miss, stalking up the stairs silently as if on a hunt. Jin was careful and measured in everything he did and this was no different.

 The sugar glider hybrid glanced around, his eyes landing on the two of you in the living room. He shifted his weight on his feet.

 "Hey," you said softly, coming closer. "Is Jungkook still in the atelier ?"

 Jungkook was nowhere to be seen, even though he tended to stick to the other hybrids like glue. Whatever had happened earlier was enough to make him change his habits.

 "He's in the middle of a painting," Jin said, biting his bottom lip. It was obvious he was worried as well, but trying to make excuses for the youngest. "I'm going to cook dinner."

 The sun had set by now but you couldn't comprehend how late it had gotten. Time to make dinner. On an average work day you would be wrapping up now and checking off the tasks you had completed, making sure everything was going according to plan before leaving.

 "I'll help you then," you said, nudging his hands with yours. The two of you go to the kitchen and Jin starts pulling out bowls from the cupboards. "What are we making?"

 Jin paused. "Now that you're here, we can make whatever you want. But I can cook. You should rest, you must be tired."

 "No more tired than usual." It was true in a weird way. Your body was actually feeling less like it would need to sleep for a week to restore all its functions and more like something heavy you didn't recognize had wrapped itself around your shoulders. "You? How are you feeling?"

 Jin fiddled with one of the bowls. "I'm alright."

 On a couple shelves, away from where most of the action took place, your cookbooks were lined in neat rows. You picked up one of your favorites, the well-known chef smiling at you from the cover.

 "It's okay if you aren't," you said. "It was very unexpected. It'd be understandable if you felt uncomfortable or upset. I didn't get a chance to warn you before bringing practically two strangers into your home."

 The bowl was apparently very fascinating for Jin because he was looking nowhere else as he forced a smile. "I couldn't be upset. I was a stranger coming here, too."

 You left the cookbook on the counter. "The circumstances were different. I had called the others before adopting you and we had all agreed that I would bring you home with me. I adopted you, you came to stay. They will be leaving soon."

 "It's just... I'm not used to strangers," he admitted.

 You moved around the kitchen island, standing next to him. You gave him space in case he wanted to move away but he only leaned closer to you. "This is your home and all I want for you is to feel safe here. I'm sorry I didn't call you to ask before bringing them here. I don't want you to act like you don't mind if you actually do. You have a right to be upset."

 You brought your foreheads together, rubbing gently. A rare purr escaped Jin and although his cheeks reddened he didn't pull away at the sound like he used to do.

 The kitchen filled with noise as you started preparing the dishes. You had decided on chicken with honey and garlic as the main dish and you would make a few side-dishes because you didn't know what the new hybrids liked to eat. Halfway through, when you had added the honey, the diced garlic and the soy sauce in the pan, the itch under your skin got too long and you left to go shower.

 Washing away the day felt almost cathartic. The worst parts of it falling down the drain. It was your favorite part of coming home, second only to seeing your hybrids and spending time with them. Freshly washed and dressed into sweatpants and a comfortable top, you got out of your room. Dinner wasn't ready yet but Jin didn't need any more help. Any other day you would get your laptop and open one of the files in your to-do-list but this time you climbed down the stairs to the second level.

 Knocking on the door, you took a step back and waited.

 "Who is it?" a gruff voice you recognized as Yoongi's called from inside.

 "It's Y/N." You didn't elaborate further, curious to see what he would do. Contrary to what you had expected, you heard the key being turned. The door opened, Yoongi peeking at you through the crack.

 "What do you want?"

 "Dinner is almost ready," you said. "I came to check in on you. Has Hoseok woken up? I wanted to see how well the medication worked."

 You could sense Yoongi contemplating shutting the door in your face before  a small voice from inside said, "I'm awake."

 Yoongi muttered under his breath but opened the door further letting you in. The room was mostly untouched, only the bed Hoseok had been sleeping in gave an indication that someone had been inside. Yoongi had taken a shower but changed back into his own clothes, which he had pulled out from the small duffel bag. The green duffel bag, as worn as their clothes, was the only thing they had carried with them. It was small and certainly not enough for two people to live out of.

 Hoseok was laying on the bed, making himself as small as he could without aggravating his injuries. In the hand that wasn't in the cast, he was clinging to the blanket he had with him in the abandoned building. It desperately needed to be washed but you weren't sure it could be salvaged. The light in the room was in the lower setting not to aggravate his eyes. His fluffy tail was curled around his waist, dirt staining it and parts sticking together with grime.

 He stuttered answering your questions but overall he looked better. The granite floor with only a thin blanket to lay on wasn't a place someone could actually rest on. You offered to bring him some clothes to change into. Unlike Yoongi, he accepted.

 Jacob's clothes had really come in handy. You would have never guessed that you would find a use for them when he left them behind. You had even considered throwing them out at one of your lowest points. Jacob's promise to remain friends and the excuse he would be coming over had been proven a lie or just wistful thinking. They weren't taking too much space, considering how large your closet was, but you had no use for them but sentimental memories you no longer needed. Until February, that is.

 Some of Namjoon's clothes would fit Hoseok better, but you dismissed the idea without considering it. The hybrid's scent would be too prominent on the clothes. Jimin liked wearing the others' clothes because he claimed he loved being enveloped in their scents. It was also the reason he had stolen one of your hoodies that fit him and refused to give it back.

 Jacob's scent had faded from his clothes after so many months, Namjoon had confirmed it. He had left in early December, five months had come and passed since then. You could remember the months leading up to the break up. It wasn't the fights, there weren't many of them, but the silence and the distance that had broken you. You had been at work all day and he had been at the studio. When he went out you either couldn't go because you were busy or you were too tired to. He didn't get your hobbies. He wasn't a fan of reading and he didn't let you listen to his tracks before they were ready. You weren't good at giving feedback, he had told you laughing after you had said the track felt like something was missing in the chorus. You had been getting further and further apart for more than a year. The house was but a way to fool yourself that everything was alright.

 Yoongi had helped Hoseok shower, following your advice to not ruin the cast on his arm and wet the bandages you had wrapped around some of the deeper wounds.

 Dinner was different. You had carried two trays down with Jin's help for the two hybrids. It was better for Hoseok not to move and even if he could, Yoongi wouldn't be thrilled at the idea. Jungkook didn't come up for dinner. He wouldn't leave the atelier and Jin carried another tray to him, because there was no way he would let him go without eating. Jimin asked after him. He didn't speak for the rest of dinner picking up the food on his plate with a guilty expression on his face.

 John did come the next morning. He didn't press and didn't threaten anyone, not that you had expected him to but it was a relief nonetheless. John was an intimidating man with his height and bulkiness. Yoongi hissed, backing into a corner when he saw him. John looked him up and down, taking in his split lip, the bruises and his worn clothes, and then showed you a picture of his daughter on his phone. Yoongi regarded him for a little longer before disappearing again.

 Jungkook and Jimin were avoiding each other. Jungkook did everything in his power not to find himself in the same room as Jimin, getting up and leaving whenever Jimin entered. The hurt on Jimin's face was heartbreaking every time it happened. You tried to comfort him but you couldn't do much when you were gone most of the day and you had to check Hoseok's injuries every morning and night.

 You were in your office scanning a few documents when the email was delivered. Your hand froze, unable to comprehend the contents at first.

 There was a knock on the half-opened door. Namjoon walked inside. "Are you coming for dinner?"

 You looked up from your phone. "I have to go to Virginia the day after tomorrow."

[sunrisefairy]

Sketches

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Y/N likes drawing people. More specifically, she likes drawing George Weasley. Which is fine, until she loses her notebook and George is the one who finds it. 

A/N: Okay so because of lockdown and me having legit nothing to do i spent the last 2 days writing this fic for @teawiththeweasleys​ writing challenge and i couldnt wait to share it with you. im lowkey very proud of it so i hope you all like it 

Taglist: @hufflepuff5972 @inglourious-imagines message me if you would like to be added!

Ever since Y/N was a little girl she was always drawing whether it was scribbles of her family, animals, magical creatures or plants, you could always find the girl with a pencil and paper somewhere nearby. For as long as she could remember her home was covered in her drawings, Y/N’s mum and dad would frame and hang up all of their daughters’ drawings all over the walls. They were so proud of Y/N’s creativity and encouraged her to keep creating her art. It had become a tradition that every year for her birthday Y/N would receive a new notebook and pencils form her parents and it was always her most cherished gift.

Over the last few years Y/N has become very intrigued with drawing faces, she loved how she could capture a person’s emotion with just some charcoal and parchment. More recently when Y/N was sketching she’d try to focus on the subtle and small features that make humans unique and beautiful, may it be the way their eyebrows arched in curiosity or the dimples and freckles etched into their skin or small wrinkles that danced near their eyes when they smiled. Y/N loved it all.

Because Y/N was so captivated with how facial features made everyone unique she found herself draw a particular ginger a lot more than anyone else. George Weasley. Everybody at Hogwarts knew George Weasley was the twin to the confident and loud Fred Weasley. And being that they are identical twins they look very similar. Y/N found it fascinating trying to pinpoint their minor physical differences and she had become quite good at it.

Her brown leather notebook, which if it wasn’t in her hand was usually found stuffed in her book bag, was full of sketches of George. It started of gradual, her drawings of the sweet boy. Y/N was usually found sitting on a bench in the courtyard if the weather was nice, drawing anyone she saw nearby and normally it was someone new each time. But when her eyes landed on the loud group of Gryffindor boys, she felt a pull to the tall boy with fiery hair who was standing next to his twin, both taking turns to tell a story which had the rest of the group engrossed. Y/N wanted to challenge herself, it was simple, she wanted to capture the features that made an identical twin unique.

Y/N spent the last few weeks ‘studying’ George in a very non-threatening and not at all creepy way. The pair had a few classes together being in the same year at school but the two hadn’t really spoken much to each other. So, Y/N admired from afar, normally from across the great hall or in class. She quickly learnt that George’s face was longer than his brothers, his eyes were more slanted, and his lips had a curve in them that was more prominent when he smiled, something he does a lot, Y/N observed.

~~~

The weather was particularly nice on this Saturday afternoon, so naturally Y/N found herself on a bench in the courtyard with her pencil tin open and a range of charcoals scattered around her as she doodled in her notebook (the one which wasn’t unofficially dedicated to George).

“Hello there little Gryffindors-” Y/N heard a voice call from nearby, the voice belonging to Fred Weasley. George was standing next to his twin and the duo were chatting to some unsuspecting first years.

“-anyone fancy a nougat? They are delicious” George finished; the twins shared a mischievous glance at each other.

Y/N quickly grabbed her other notebook and some charcoal and began sketching the boy’s face focusing on the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed at the poor Gryffindor who accepted the free candy which turned out to be a nosebleed nougat. Y/N was absorbed in her sketching she didn’t notice her best friend sit next to her, peering over her shoulder.

“Ah, drawing your lover boy again I see” Alicia chuckled as Y/N slammed the book shut.

“He’s not my lover boy, I’ve already told you; I draw him to-”

“-capture the features that make an identical twin unique. Sure, so if I flick through your other notebooks, I’ll find one dedicated to Fred too then?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “shut up.”

“Come on creeper, we told the others we’d hang out today.” Alicia pulled on Y/N’s hand as she quickly threw her notebooks and pencil tin in her book bag.

“Merlin, hang on! You’re gonna rip my arm out of its socket!” Y/N giggles hoisting her bag strap higher up her shoulder.

The two girls walked off, arms linked and laughing, neither one noticed the lone notebook that was left on the bench.

~~~

George, Fred and Lee were heading towards the great hall after their amusing interaction with a group of first years when the younger twin noticed a brown book perched on a bench. He detoured that way to pick it up, flicking through the pages in hopes he will find who it belongs to so he can return it.

George furrowed his brows as he dove deeper into the book. He expected it to be filled with notes and writing but he was not expecting to see drawings of people; of him and Fred. But as he looked closer, he quickly realised that they weren’t sketches of him and Fred, just himself.

“Oi! What are you doing? We’re gonna be late for dinner” Fred’s voice pulled him back. George shoved the notebook in his pants pocket and hurried after his twin very confused as to why the notebook was filled with drawings of him.

Later that night George found himself sitting on his bed in his dorm room flipping through the notebook. These drawings were incredible, whoever it belonged to had some serious talent but he couldn’t get over why someone had drawn him, let alone multiple drawings. Each sketch was different to the last though, some were of his whole face others just of his eyes or mouth. George was in awe of the skill this person had; they had managed to capture his face perfectly.

Some might view finding a notebook filled of drawings of themselves a little creepy, however George Weasley found it flattering. You see, for his whole life, George has seen himself as the other half of Fred. Most people in their lives couldn’t tell the pair apart and opted to talk to them and refer to them almost as if they were one person as FredandGeorge and not Fred and George. This notebook was proof that someone out there noticed George as a singular person, an individual, which made George’s heart flutter.

~~~

“Oh godric” Y/N mumbles pouring out the contents of her book bag on the table.

“Hey, Y/N relax. I’m sure it will turn up eventually.” Alicia says in attempt to calm her friend down.

Y/N ran her hands through her hair, very stressed. She had been searching for her notebook all morning with no luck worried that the wrong person had found it and would deem her a creepy stalker.

“How can I relax when my notebook-the notebook which is filled with drawings of George Weasley-has gone missing. Oh merlin, whoever has it will most likely recognise the drawings of George and give it to him and he’ll eventually find out that it belongs to me and think I’m a freak” Y/N’s arms are frantically waving around to empathise her point as she paces up and down the room.

Alicia stops in front of her friend, placing her hands on her shoulders, squeezing reassuringly “Y/N breath. You’ve told me a million times that those drawings are just about capturing someone’s facial features, right? It’s not like you have a crush on the guy so it doesn’t matter if anyone thinks that, because it’s not true.”

Y/N’s sketches of George Weasley had started just as Alicia said but it quickly turned into Y/N possessing a small, okay maybe huge crush on the red head and her trying to find any excuse to stare at him and draw. Y/N’s heart hammered in her chest at the thought of George being the one to find her notebook. There was no way George wouldn’t be freaked out and think Y/N had some weird obsession with him.

“Okay so when was the last time you remember having your book?” Alicia questions.

Y/N racks her brain trying to remember, “yesterday afternoon. In the courtyard on that bench, I was drawing him when you came over. I’m sure I put it in my bag but I haven’t seen it since.”

Alicia nodded, the two deciding that was the best place to start.

Y/N practically sprints to the courtyard, luckily there wasn’t many students here, giving it was a Sunday morning and everyone was probably still sleeping. The two girls look around trying to spot the leather book. Y/N sighs in defeat, collapsing onto the bench and groaing into her hands.

“Bloody hell, I can’t believe I lost it. I’m so stupid”

“Err, Y/N” Alicia nudged her friend’s shoulder.

“Geez, thanks Alicia, you’re meant to say ‘No Y/N you’re not stupid’”

Alicia widened her eyes at Y/N before glancing behind her, “look”.

Y/N follows her gaze and freezes. George Weasley was walking towards them, that in itself was strange but it wasn’t until Y/N looked down at George’s hand and noticed the missing notebook.

“Oh no.”

George had figured whoever misplaced the notebook would probably come back to the last place they had it to search for it. He was hoping for that at least. Not only did he want to return the book to its rightful owner, he also wanted to thank them for seeing him, for noticing him.

As George rounded the corner his eyes scanned the courtyard and were met with Alicia Spinnit and Y/N L/N sitting on the same bench he’d found the notebook on, bingo. Judging by Y/N’s wide eyes that were glued to the notebook in his hand and how Alicia gave her a pat on the shoulder before disappearing, George figured the drawings were the work of Y/N. George’s heart sped up with this information. The two of them weren’t close but were friendly having shared some classes together. George had caught himself on more than one occasion glancing at Y/N during lessons and mealtimes, wondering what it would be like to get to know her. Guess now he has a chance.

His feet stopped a few paces in front of the bench as Y/N gawked up at him.

George cleared his throat, “uh I believe this belongs to you?”

Y/N basically snatches the notebook from his fingers, feeling insanely embarrassed and when Y/N is embarrassed, she rambles. “Oh merlin, I’m so sorry! I’m guessing you looked through it, of course you did. I would have too if I stumbled across a stranger’s book. I’m also guessing you realised all the drawings were of you. Look I’m not some stalker, I swear. Like I’m not some girl that has a massive crush on you and decided to fill a notebook with drawings of you… Well I do have a crush on you. But I promise I didn’t mean to be creepy. I just, I like drawing people and you have a nice face.” Y/N chews on her bottom lip, forcing herself to shut up.

George opens his mouth and closes it a few times as he processes the girl’s words. “Wow, um- I want you to know that I don’t think you’re creepy at all. I was actually really flattered looking through your pictures. It’s nice to know someone sees me as me and not as an extension of Fred.”

The two stare at each other for a few moments, neither one knowing what to say.

George moves to sit beside Y/N, close enough that their thighs are touching, “they are really good by the way. The drawings I mean. You’re very talented.”

Y/N blushes at his words, “thank you. I don’t normally share my art, with the exception of my parents and Alicia.”

George places a hand over his heart, “well in that case I feel very honoured.” He runs his fingers through his hair as Y/N giggles before continuing, “I know we aren’t super close and I kind of hate that it’s taken me this long to ask but would you maybe wanna hang out sometime? Like a date.”

Y/N fiddles with the notebook in her lap trying to hide her excitement “for sure, I’d love that.”

George lets out a sigh of relief, “great, well what are you up to right now? Maybe we can hang out and you can draw more pictures of my handsome face.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and playfully shoves at his side “careful, your head might explode with all that ego. But yes I’d love to hang out with you right now.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt- WWX didn’t die, instead was held captive by JGGY for the 16 years

ao3

“ – his sword has sealed itself. What better evidence that the Yiling Patriarch is dead and gone?”

I’m not, though, Wei Wuxian thought fuzzily. I’m not gone.

Except when he tried to open his eyes, he couldn’t quite manage it. Why couldn’t he open his eyes? Where was he, anyway?

(Dead and gone –)

He remembered the backlash, suddenly, and shuddered. His qi revolting from inside of him, ghostly hands reaching for him, tearing at him – the complete loss of control – pain –  

Am I dead?

Yes, actually, that seemed pretty likely. That backlash…no one could have survived it, not even him.

(Arrogant as always, Wei Wuxian. Haven’t you seen what become of that?)

Okay, I’m dead, he told himself, and it rang true. But that doesn’t answer the question of where am I?

(Questions like “what am I” could be saved for later.)

He could hear, anyway. He wasn’t sure how, but he could. Maybe he could even see?

He tried to see.

He could see.

Blurrily, and not quite right, but he could.

There were people standing around him. The Jin sect, judging by their clothing, and some others – they were arguing over something. Spoils of war…

Hey! He complained. That’s not a spoil of war! That’s my stuff!

Actually, on second thought, maybe they were right. Sure, it was his stuff – was someone trying to lay claim to his shopping list? – but there had been a war, and he’d lost, and that meant his stuff was spoils.

“The greatest contribution, next to the Jiang sect, is ours. Suibian belongs to the Jin sect,” someone said, interrupting Wei Wuxian’s train of thought, and put their hand on him.

Wait.

What?

I’m Suibian?

No, something that wasn’t quite a voice suddenly said. I’m Suibian. You’re Wei Wuxian. Keep it straight.

Wei Wuxian would have gaped, if he’d still had a mouth. Suibian? You – talk?

There was a feeling of amusement. Possibly a bit of mockery. No, definitely mockery, possibly a lot of it.

Is Wei Wuxian’s sword…kind of a dick?

Suibian sniggered.

What am I doing here? Wei Wuxian asked.

I pulled in your souls and spirits when you died, his sword said. They were already setting up soul-summoning rituals for you, and it wouldn’t have gone well for you if they caught you.

No, it wouldn’t have.

You saved me?

I’m your sword, aren’t I? What else am I here for, especially since you no longer wield me?

Wei Wuxian felt a stab of guilt. He’d never once thought about explaining himself to his sword, though in his defense he didn’t know his sword might have feelings on the subject. About that –

Yes, yes, I know, Suibian said. Chenqing explained the whole thing.

…my flute? You talk to my flute?

Please, Suibian said. We’re spiritual weapons. Of course we talk.

Isn’t that only supposed to happen for the weapons of sages? Wei Wuxian argued. Not, you know, run-of-the-mill ones. Er, no offense. Not that you’re not awesome, but I, personally, am very far from a sage.

At least you admit it, Suibian teased. And no, I think that’s just when everyone can start hearing us. We talk amongst ourselves long before that…sometimes I’m jealous of the Nie sect’s sabers. They can talk to their masters a lot earlier than we can.

They can? Even, what, shit he didn’t know any Nie, uh, Nie Huaisang?

…Nie Huaisang doesn’t count and you know it. His saber’s pretty funny, though. Lazier than a sloth.

That sounded about right.

Baxia’s terrifying, though.

That…also sounded right.

Okay, Wei Wuxian said, tearing his mind away from the fascinating question of why the Nie sabers in specific might be able to communicate with their wielders sooner than most and also what that might mean. There were more important things to discuss. Uh, thanks for saving my life. Death? Thanks for saving my souls, anyway.

Don’t embarrass me with gratitude.

Wei Wuxian would have grinned if he’d had a mouth. Yeah, sure, whatever.

They both sniggered at that.

Anyway, what now? I thought I heard…we’re sealed?

How else am I supposed to hide the fact that your souls and spirits are in here? Suibian asked. If someone wields us, they’d know. Wielders always know.

Wei Wuxian didn’t have anything to say about that. He had always known that Suibian was – Suibian. He could have picked up his sword in the dark and known it was his own, rather than another’s.

He just hadn’t known that Suibian had also known.

He’d even known that Suibian had a personality, that he’d – she’d – it –

Hey, do you have a gender? Wei Wuxian asked, distracted. Are you a boy sword or a girl sword –

I am a sword, Suibian said. Please leave your weird human reproduction techniques out of it.

It’s not about reproduction! It’s…hm. Maybe it is about reproduction? I don’t know, I’ve never really questioned it. Something to think about later on. More importantly – what now?

What do you mean?

What do we do now?

I’m not sure I understand.

Wei Wuxian would have rolled his eyes if he’d had them. What is our next step? You rescued me, and now we’re being bartered around as spoils of war. What’s the plan? What do we do now?

Suibian really didn’t seem to understand.

Well, you rescued me! What were you intending happen after that?

Nothing, Suibian said. I rescued you. That was the complete action. There was nothing after that.

You didn’t make a plan?

I’m a sword. We get wielded by others; we don’t – or at least, rarely – take initiative on our own. I’m not a Nie saber or something; I’m not going to hop up one day and go out hunting for evil on my own.

…is that a thing Nie sabers do? Wei Wuxian asked. On second thought, don’t answer that, I don’t have time to process it at the moment. Listen, now that you’ve rescued me, we still have to do something, right? We can’t just sit around on a shelf somewhere in the Jin sect as a trophy!

Suibian’s silence was almost a little pitying.

We can’t do that, Wei Wuxian repeated. Right?  

They were, in fact, placed on a Jin shelf, at least in the beginning.

It was a prominent place, meant to show him off – show it off, really, since no one knew Wei Wuxian was in there.

Wei Wuxian hated it.

He hated the way Jin Guangshan smirked at the sword, very obviously thinking about how he’d ground Wei Wuxian under his heel. He hated the fact that the man was using his research to develop demonic cultivation into something truly monstrous and vile, the reports that were delivered to Jin Guangshan within Wei Wuxian’s hearing enough to make his stomach turn if he still had one.

Reports of entire sects murdered, men women children all, brutally slaughtered as experiments in tests – each one delivered with a calm smile and no regret.

Wei Wuxian hated that.

He hated, too, the fact that his demonic cultivation, that new invention of his, was treated as nothing but a stepping stone, a tool used to help the Jin sect gain power and ascendance over the other sects – that was what this had always been about, he realized belatedly, too late to do any good.

He’d always known that Jiang Cheng had only cast him out of the Jiang sect because of pressure from the rest of the cultivation world, but somehow he hadn’t realized that that pressure was manufactured, that it was intentional, that he’d always been meant to either yield or die because the Jin sect wanted his power and his Tiger Seal and his secrets. Even if he’d still had a golden core, even if he’d set aside demonic cultivation the way they asked, it still would have ended up the same way in the end.

He’d given the Jiang sect power and influence – and the Jin sect didn’t like that.

But what Wei Wuxian hated most of all, above even the sickening reports of the Jin sect’s crimes, was –

“You look well, Sect Leader Jiang,” Jin Guangshan said, blatantly lying.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes were rimmed with red, whether with tears or an incipient qi deviation, and he stared vacantly at Jin Guangshan as if he didn’t quite understand his meaning. He’d lost weight, his cheekbones sharper than they’d been since the worst days of the war when they hadn’t had enough food, and he didn’t seem entirely – sane.

What happened to him? Wei Wuxian demanded. He might be the one who was living a half-life, but Jiang Cheng looked it.

He’s all alone, Suibian said. Like a sword that hasn’t been drawn in years, not even to be sharpened –

I said I was sorry about no wielding you, okay! But no, seriously, what have the Jin sect been doing to him?

Why are you asking me? I’ve been here, same as you.

“Stop the small talk,” Jiang Cheng finally said, interrupting Jin Guangshan’s odious discourse about the general state of the cultivation world, the satisfactory improvement in trade, and even the weather. “We both know why I’m here.”

Jin Guangshan stopped talking, and smiled his viper’s smile that Wei Wuxian wanted to scrub off his face. Preferably with the flat of Suibian’s blade. “It’s a very impudent request, you know,” he said, leaning back. “One could even say that it’s offensive that you even suggested it.”

Jiang Cheng stared at him. His knuckles were white from how hard his fists were clenched. “That’s not a no,” he said. His normally sharp voice was dulled. “That’s not a no.”

“It’s not,” Jin Guangshan agreed. “But if you want something from me, you have to give something in return.”

Haven’t you taken enough from him? Wei Wuxian shouted. You forced him to get rid of me, you forced my hand at the Qiongqi Path and led to everything that happened next, you – you – you greedy pig!

Now, now, Suibian said. What have pigs ever done to you?

Jiang Cheng swallowed and closed his eyes. He looked tired – exhausted – broken into pieces. The Jin sect ought to be helping him rebuild, helping him survive, not extorting him for whatever it was they wanted now.

“I understand,” Jiang Cheng said, through thin and bloodless lips.

Don’t do it! Whatever it is they want from you, refuse, it’s not worth it, Wei Wuxian tried to tell him, though he knew Jiang Cheng couldn’t hear him, couldn’t understand. You don’t know what they’re doing in secret, in the dark – if you knew, you’d be disgusted. Horrified. I know you would be. You’d stop them. If you agree to whatever it is that they want, you’ll think that you were complicit in it when you find out about it, no matter if you weren’t. Don’t agree!

But of course Jiang Cheng couldn’t hear him.

“I’m glad you do,” Jin Guangshan said, slippery and slimy even as he pretended to sound paternal, and Wei Wuxian might learn to hate him even more than he hated Wen Chao. He put his hand on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, squeezed it, and Jiang Cheng let him – yes, Wei Wuxian could easily learn to hate Jin Guangshan, Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao and all the rest of them, just as much as the Wen sect. Maybe even more. “I look forward to working together with the Jiang sect in the future.”

What Jin Guangshan wanted – in exchange for granting whatever request it was that Jiang Cheng had that mattered so much to him – wasn’t going to be anything as easy as cooperation, and Wei Wuxian knew it; he knew it and he burned with the knowledge of it.

With the knowledge that he’d left Jiang Cheng to face this alone.

That he’d allowed himself to leave his brother behind because of the Jin sect’s manipulations – that if he’d only trusted Jiang Cheng enough to share with him his weakness, to stand with him rather than apart from him, they could have stood up to the Jin sect, to the world, they could have done something, and instead he’d selfishly thought he could do everything on his own, that he didn’t need anyone, that they would be better off without him than with him –

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng murmured. He looked even more broken now than he’d been before. “As you say.”

Jin Guangshan’s hand, still on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, tightened. It was visible, which meant that Jin Guangshan’s grip was probably bruising, breaking. “Don’t forget to respect your elders, Sect Leader Jiang. You mustn’t forget your etiquette.”

Wei Wuxian had always respected Jiang Cheng, even when they were children, even when his arrogance refused to admit that there was anyone who could be anywhere near as good as himself, and that respect had only grown over the years. Brave, independent Jiang Cheng, who’d fought so hard to build the Jiang sect back up into something of its own, refusing to yield to fate and allow his inheritance to scatter into the wind –

Watching him kneel to pay homage to a monster, to call him ‘Chief Cultivator’ and agree numbly to support his future proposals – practically giving away his Jiang sect’s independence –

Wei Wuxian wanted to cry.

(Maybe this was what it had all been about. Not his demonic cultivation, not the Tiger Seal, not the power they could give to the Jin sect – this. This display of domination, of oppression; the Jin sect putting the Jiang underfoot.)

Whatever you’re getting for this had better be worth it, Jiang Cheng!

When it was done, Jiang Cheng looked up. “I’ll go now,” he said, throat hoarse as if from keeping himself from screaming – or crying. “I’ll take him – there won’t be any trouble, will there?”

“None whatsoever,” Jin Guangshan said, and smiled. “After all, A-Ling is very young. It’s no hardship to let him be raised a few years by his maternal family, to learn the traditions of the Jiang sect…since after all his poor mother isn’t around to teach him.”

Jiang Cheng barely flinched as he stood to go – he was beyond that – but Wei Wuxian howled in rage and despair.

We have to be able to do something, he begged Suibian. Something – anything! I can’t…this is my fault. If it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t have to do this – please!

He had to admit that Jiang Cheng wasn’t wrong, to do what he did. Complicity, future guilt, present humiliation...it was all worth it. For all the future pain it would cause Jiang Cheng, it was worth it – to him, to Wei Wuxian – anything would be worth saving Jiang Yanli’s son.

Nothing has changed, Suibian said, solemn for once. I’m still just a sword. I can seal myself, but I can’t act on my own, not without a wielder.

Then what do I do?

Cultivate, Suibian said. A lot. I’ve been thinking about it: sword spirits are a thing, so are ghosts – it’ll take a while, but if we work at it, you’ll eventually be able to float outside of me. A while after that, you might even be able to manifest to humans. We’re both pretty bright; it shouldn’t take more than a few years.

Years!

Were you expecting this to be easy?

Wei Wuxian thought about Jiang Cheng, gritting his teeth and disregarding his pride to save his nephew; thought about Jin Guangyao smiling peaceably as he reported on the latest atrocities their pet demonic cultivators had caused in the same tone he used to discuss the weather; thought about that poor child, Mo Xuanyu, who’d been dragged into the Jin sect’s pit of vipers –

No, he said. I guess not.

Let’s begin.

[kiratheperson]

Hello, I'm once again asking you about your OCs because I'm curious! I hope that's okay? Who are Iphi and Jack? I love the first one's name. And if I remember right Jack is aro? That's neat, I haven't really seen a lot of aro characters before! /pos

Thank you for the ask!!! Sorry this is pretty late btw, I haven’t had time to answer it lol

(That’s Iphi on the left, Jack on the right. First is a picrew, second isn’t my art but like. I haven’t drawn Jack yet so that’s kinda their ref for now)

But it is rant time!! Imma start with Iphi! Because I kinda need to explain her to give context for Jack’s lore. 

So Iphi is the god of sacrifice in this little fantasy world I made, Kunyang! She’s a pretty old god, a couple of thousand years old, but she’s still the second youngest one lol.

In Kunyang, gods are born when they sprout from the seeds of the god tree. The god tree is in the divine realm, which is a different realm entirely from the physical realm, but very rarely, a god seed can arrive in the physical realm.

Anyways, this seed fell into the hands of a very magically powerful person. They had magic potential that could honestly rival a god- and yeah, they believed they were destined for great things because of it. So, they were determined to be the person who caused the god seed to sprout.

So in Kunyang, there was once this library called the Archives, run by the god of knowledge himself, Ephius. This person went to Ephius, and they were told that the seed was for the god of sacrifice. Ephius told the person that to sprout a god seed, they’d need sacrifices from thousands of people. This person wanted to do it, all by themself.

And so, they sacrificed everything. Family, friends, fortune, and fame. All gone, in the hopes of making a legacy. The seed did not sprout, because it wasn’t enough. So this person decided that they would need to make a very big sacrifice, one big enough to make the seed sprout.

They decided to banish the Archives from the physical realm into the divine realm, sacrificing humanity’s access to the library of all knowledge. And that was indeed a big enough sacrifice to give birth to a new god!

And that’s how Iphi was created. But the thing is- that’s really not how you’re supposed to create a god. So she was kind of corrupted from birth. This corruption prevented her from having a lot of character traits that one might consider important to being human.

Iphi does not feel happiness, or satisfaction. No sorrow or regret. Nothing of that sort. But she is working towards a goal: and that is creating a legacy. Having an effect on the world. (Her only contributor to her creation imprinted heavily on her.)

And because of that, she is very active in all manners of sacrifice. Every day, she’s constantly getting people to make sacrifices to her, amassing followers in many different lands. This also increases her powers heavily.

The way her powers work, they’re kinda like payment based. She gets someone to sacrifice something for her, and she can create something else of equal value to that something. (The more important that something was to the person who sacrificed it, the more she can create and do.) Like, she could make a giant wall of fire, or acid rain, or bury a country in gold if she had enough magic. Which she absolutely does. But she mostly saves the magic potential she receives for later.

And also, Iphi doesn’t truly care about anything other than making a mark on the world. She doesn’t mind if people die or suffer because her sacrifices took something too important- if anything, she wants to do that, because it’s quite a way of making your mark on the world.

Oh, and I gotta add- she can’t do this all without a little help! And that’s where Jack comes in.

They’re also a couple thousand years old, but quite younger than Iphi. So they used to be a court jester. Mortal and everything. They should have had a life of a normal length, be just another person in the world, but then they fell in love with Iphi.

And yeah they’re aromantic! It’s not romantic love, it’s alterous love. But yeah they felt a deep emotional attraction, and they wanted to be in a relationship (not a romantic or platonic one though). Anyways, Iphi doesn’t feel the same way. She doesn’t love Jack. But she thought it was convenient to have someone in love with her, and to keep them around, so she offered Jack a sacrifice.

She’d give them eternity, and they would be her servant.

Jack honestly didn’t want to do that at first, but then they had a near-death experience, and agreed to her terms.

So Iphi took their physical body, and also their independence.

Because it would be inconvenient if her servant got bored or wanted to take back the sacrifice. So Jack quite literally cannot think unless she wills it. They’re barely conscious until Iphi needs them, and only then can they think again.

Jack isn’t even aware this happens. To them, it feels like they just woke up, or they just simply forgot what happened during that time

Iphi also messed with Jack’s mind a bit, to amplify their devotion. And yeah, Jack is completely, utterly devoted to her. They would die for her, they’d be tortured for her, they would kill for her too. Nothing is off the table. They’d do anything she says. And they truly love her.

Jack mostly stays in the divine realm, usually, until Iphi sends them to the physical realm to do something for her. That something is usually extorting people to get more sacrifices. Jack pretty much curses people, and then offers to remove that curse in exchange for a sacrifice. (That’s how Janessa got cursed, actually [have I talked about her?] but Jack forgot they cursed her lmao.)

Anywayssss there is some more lore, but this is pretty fucking long already lmao so Imma just end this here. Unless you’d like to hear more!!