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#WHY THE FUCK WAS HE REBORN TOO???
sleepysun · 2 years
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I hate this novel
tHEY FUCKING KEEP MISSING EACH OTHER
AND THE MISCOMMUNICATION
ML PLEASE YOUR WINGMAN DEADASS GAVE YOU THE CHANCE WHY WOULD YOU FUCK IT UP LIKE THAT
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deadqueernoldor · 4 days
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Thinking thoughts about those from Cuivienen and how they later treated the Valar, especially after Cuivienen was destroyed.
I imagine a foundation of sorrow and a layer of betrayal and pettiness. They had promised safety. And how did it turn out? Kin of Tata and Tatie their first leaders, slain in Valinor by the Dark Hunter from which the Valar promised protection in Valinor.
And then, the War of Wrath comes and with it the destruction of Cuivienen.
If any of those were re-embodied in Aman, I wonder if they make it a point to always turn their back to Valar and Maiar. I wonder if they only speak in the tongue they had first devised all those millennia ago and spoke in Cuivienen before time and different kindreds changed the tongue, not Sindarin or Quenya from the Great Journey's time or later. I wonder if they sing songs in their ancient tongue, songs about the beauty and unsullied health of Cuivienen every time any of the Ainur are near.
I wonder if the Valar feel any shame when those who they once looked upon in wonder and love gaze back at them with indifference or disgust.
#i am so normal about the elves of cuivienen feeling the betrayal worse than anyone in aman including feanor and co#they PROMISED safety from Morgoth and orcs. they PROMISED beautiful lands without sorrow. they PROMISED all that and down the line#decided Mogoth had played pretend well enough to warrant him probation during which he immediately killed again#returns to the east and sullies what beauty had been left. and then even from afar he manages to hurt those from cuivienen with the WoW#dont get me wrong i think the cuivienen elves knew there had to be war against Morgoth for him to be defeated. but the fact that the valar#decided not to only abandon those of beleriand for over 5 centuries before that AND once the war is won also abandon#those of cuivienen to watch their beloved lands drown without as much a warning must sting.#i want there to be a concious decision of 'you abandoned your promise to us twice why should we ever trust you again even in your own lands'#a 'you promised our people who folowed you safety. you didnt deliver. you promised us freedom from morgoth. you didnt deliver. in fact your#inadequacy and decision to let him loose made everything worse for us in the east. why should we ever listen to anything you say'#and thus a concious effort to shed association with Aman as the Valar govern it. they cant leave. the way is shut. but they can establish#a sticking to their own tongue and traditions without the interference of the Ainur. they've done enough. not enough and yet quite enough.#the avari are welcome should some be reborn.#i never know if i want those of cuivienen to be reborn in aman or fade into unexistence entirely both have merit and sexy hcs#but if any were reborn i think they would get along fairly alright with the exiles. kinslaying exiles? 50/50 depending on repentance#but anyone who does not believe the valar's words and respects their decision to not ever be associated with them is welcomed neutral-warmly#they teach them songs about cuivienen. the sweet waters. beautiful meadows. the birdsong that sounds extra cheerful. fish in abundance#and in turn they get taught songs about beleriand. bewitched forests. victorious battles. wild rivers. frothy shores.#it is seen as an honour to be taught a song about Cuivienen by the people who sat by its shores once. in their language/dialect/whatever#instead of in sindarin or quenya. some millenia into the 4th age tou have a surge of ppl speaking cuivienen dialect#it becomes a clear distinction of who still has fondness left for the valar and who would feel indifferent if they vanished suddenly.#this tag essay has gotten way too long again. sorry besties it will happen again.#tag essay longer than the fucking post???? help#tolkien headcanons
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frostwork · 2 months
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Yes I made a similar post but again
Hsr’s lore/story/gameplay/shorts the game itself has no business being as good as it is honestly im not even mad at the gacha anymore im in it for the plot like this is peak scifi to me how? Why? We just dont know but they are fucking cooking in that studio
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ghirasdagger · 5 months
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zeldatwt is a cesspool of calling any completely fictional ship predatory the second they don’t like it, like sure if you hc two characters a certain way and the ship clashes with that, that’s fine but your hc is not the be all end all of how those characters are
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X and Volnutt energy
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theartisticintrovert · 7 months
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Commission Me! (Regular | Furry)
so overlord finished, which means new campaign time! it's finally, FINALLY time for my undead cowboy to shine!!! everyone, i'd like to introduce you to silas kelly, a character that started as a joke that i got unreasonably attached to. he's inspired by the song "hell's coming with me" by poor man's poison, and when i introduced the concept to my friends one of them (the dm for this campaign) liked the concept so much that he spawned an entire homebrew world, story, and campaign around him.
i've never been more flattered, honestly. it had to be reworked a teeny bit to be a multiplayer rather than solo campaign, but it worked out! now my amnesiac bastard has friend! just one right now, hopefully that changes.
not pictured: his trusty revolver, aka his main weapon of choice, holstered under his coat. because of course a western-themed campaign has guns who do you take us for. aiden was even nice enough to let me use divine smite (usually a melee-only feat) with it, so long as i agreed to give up one of my oath feats at level 3. not a hard choice at all, considering there's no reason to use abjure enemy when i have a gun.
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I feel like because I'm so very biased towards Maedhros out of the finweans, people assume Fingon is my favourite Nolofinwion. They (my nonexistent jury of who is the coolest) are incorrect!
It's Argon.
Is there like any notable personality for him in the silm? No.
Does he survive until my favourite era? No.
Is he really tall and also dies in a batshit way? YES! and that is 80% of my judgement metric.
My version of Argon is mostly headcannon but I need y'all to know that in my mind this guy was straight up the most impulsive person in the whole family. Worse than Fingon. Worse than Feanor! He was considered the bad influence of the family because he has no brain to mouth filter and he is creatively insulting even when he doesn't mean to be. He's actually a pretty sweet person, he's just also got the worst case of ADHD this side of Cuiviénen and as a kid he was too cute to scold into good behaviour. So now he just says things recreationally and no one but him enjoys it. I often write Maedhros and Fingolfin as foils and i thoroughly believe Argon is Feanor's. They're too alike to get along but different enough in their approach that there's a level of respect there.
Also his mastery in Valinor was debate. Because cage match wrestling wasn't invented yet.
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piduai · 2 years
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i just can not buy into this whole "dany is the fire and jon is the ice in the world of Ice and Fire" i mean i am not saying that it's untrue. but. have you considered this: mr jonathan is just so boring !!
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audarcy · 8 months
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The original percy jackson series is about cycles of abuse and neglect, right. Were introduced to percy as a kid who has clearly been left behind by a school system that has given up on him, restless and unengaged and self-defetist because hes been given nothing that works for him and no one even tries to meet him where he is. Then hes told no, listen, your neurodivergence is amazing and you just need to be given something that actually utilizes your unique palatte. And thats obviously the uplifting idea rick wanted for his kids, right. But once we get to know chb the same cycles are happening there too. There are kids "left behind" there too for one reason or another, because their parents dont want to claim them, because their parents werent important enough to get a cabin. Do you get it, all the kids who dont fit the most common neurotypes get shoved into the same closet. Kids are being left in a cruel world to fend for themselves without the tools they need. Theyre dying because no one bothered to accommodate them. Its such an obvious parallel that the first chapter introduces a teacher whos written to be especially hard on percys disability and she turns out to literally be one of these monsters trying to kill him. Meanwhile sally jackson tells him she named him after Perseus because she wanted a redemption for a hero whos story ended in tragedy. Meanwhile every book in the series replicates a greek myth step for step until the moment they break the cycle. Annabeth, playing Odysseus, is talked down from her hubris and grounded by her friends. Percy, playing Heracles, meets someone wronged by the original Heracles and rights his wrongs by refusing to go down the same selfish path as him. Monsters are reborn because they are--as the books explicitly call them--achetypes. These kids are stuck inside the cyclical nature of mythology because thats what happens to mythology, it gets retold over and over again. But these are the kids who have to live it. The series ends with percy being offered immortality and he rejects it because he wants to use his godly favor to force them to break their cycle of neglecting their kids. The series ends with a declaration that we cant keep letting this happen. The very first book offees the same choice. It ends with percy refusing to keep the head of medusa as a spoil of war, refusing his heroic reward. He lets his mother have the head and use it to kill gabe. Isnt that fucking crazy for a kids book? Gabe wasnt a Monster. He wasnt going to Turn to Dust and Disappear in a narratively convenient way. He was a living breathing mortal dude and percy and his mom killed him without remorse. Break the cycle of abuse!!!! Dont let this happen again!!! Anyway thats why the original percy jackson series is Hey where are you going with our breadsticks
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rivilu · 19 days
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Wait. Logistically speaking. Would Elluin even know how to read.
#i've had this in the drafts contemplating for days#like. he had a frankenstein creature situation of being reborn with no memory of anything.#and even if language magically stuck with him you got the First World time thing going on#something something you're alone after coming into a new existence. You're on a field. It's day. And you exist#and you exist. and you exist. and you exist. and you exist. It's day.#is it the same? is it different?#you exist. nothing changes. you slowly lose your mind. it's still day. you exist. you exist.#thorns grow around you. under you. under your skin. do you have skin? The more you struggle the worse it gets. It's still day#anything he did know he forgot at that time so#even after being kicked off to golarion it's not like he could have like. a teacher dfjg#half of it was spent in an inq asylum which was not at all traumatizing and from which he got out in a very moral way for sure#and after that he was scraping by on the streets until areelu snatched him up#like. makes sense he's be able to Speak common- as this all takes place through an indeterminate amount of years#up to interpretation since he wasnt keeping track but the post first world era alone was probably many centuries.#but when would he have been able to pick up reading? Since he'd have to do it on his own too.#not like a fucked up little not quite but mostly fey creature could go up to any temple and expect to be trusted enough for charity#the hc is that the wound winds up disguising his fey with a mortal soul business since it overshadows it. before that though nope!#he'd have been clocked as fey by anyone that can sense it even in elf form#basically. Galfrey what have you fucking done putting this guy in charge dfjghfh#maybe he can read a LITTLE. just enough to make do at first at least#would probably try to get some help on the sly because there's a minimum of two companions that should Never Know (Nenio and Daeran)#Nenio for reasons you can probably guess Daeran less because Ellu cares about being insulted-#more so because he doesn't have anything funny to retort with. like yeah i can't. kind of sad isn't it. and now the conversation is awkward#great and now i'm thinking about how much he deserved to live again#There's some great parallels with Orion actually. They were in a very similar mental place at the climax of their respective stories#dare i say Elluin actually deserved to live more. Which is why he doesn't#oc: elluin
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oetscop · 3 months
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developing an emotional attachment with a character and promptly hitting them with my beam that givesthem schizophrenia
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mooishbeam · 9 months
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『♡』 Rises the Moon
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♡ featuring: dan heng IL x f!reader
♡ summary: you help dan heng work through his heat cycle wc: 3.1k+
♡ cw/tw: canon-divergent, breeding, praise, kinda sad but wholesome, monster-fucking, heat cycle, blowjob, cunnilingus, mentions of blood, biting
notes: super canon divergent ik vidyadhara can't have kids but ahhh dan heng breed brainrot :P ruahh I need that lc
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Cracked from a shimmering pearl into the cold deception of a ship no longer home, that damned his ill-fated legacy. A lonely forgone dragon wanders a lifetime in purgatory, searching for hands to follow, for he was reborn into the dead silence of solitude. He stretched his inhuman heart as far as it could reach, enough for anyone to hold. But it twisted and tangled in thorns, cradled by serpents' eyes that prayed for his ruin. In brief moments of rest, his visions were suffocated with catastrophic destruction unbeknownst to the reincarnate. When he was eventually released, no one turned for him; a trail of fire he would have to walk alone, bleeding for repentance until his sin was permanently consumed by the collapsing universe.  
A race cursed to live forever rarely knew joy or love to its full extent, as all things mortal would return to the ground beneath them. It wasn’t worth the attachment, nor the deserved doom of a man denied salvation. 
Your arrival at the space station upturned his perception. He wasn’t sure why he yearned to be near you, why his senses craved your smell and sight. He had to distance himself from you as much as possible, but the melody of your pure voice stored a rhythm in his core that could not be removed. He lamented the blooming affection in his discernment. Often lying awake at night, struggling to satiate the urges. 
To you, he was Dan Heng. The solemn, headstrong friend that seldom spoke in your presence. Your favorite pastime was playful banter; he rarely smiled, but it pulled at your heartstrings when the corners of his lips slightly lifted. When he picked at his food, you went out of your way to find out what he preferred and arranged your meals around his. You spent almost all of your time on the parlor car. That isn’t to say you weren’t interested in adventuring, you frequently noted the prettiest gems March showed you during their trips. You asked Dan about the stuff he enjoyed, but it’d usually amount to “I was too focused on staying alive to take in the scenery.” You recall entering your room after their return and noticed an iron scrap flower sitting on your windowsill. Dan nonchalantly admitted to the act, mentioning how he overheard your liking for metallic constructs. You originally thought this was simply an extension of your friendship, but the burning ache in your body spoke otherwise. The little things he did, such as bringing small gifts or ingredients for you to experiment with made you seek that numbed heart, imprisoned in ice. 
Himeko joked about your sour mood whenever Dan Heng was gone. You read while she stared at you, amused by the pout on your face. “Hmm, your boy toy is missing. Feeling down?” Your head shot up, ears hot from the assumption.  
“W-what? No, of course not. We’re friends, Himeko.” you panicked. She softly giggled. 
“Don’t worry. They’re coming back soon.” You peeked up from the pages. 
“...When?” you mumbled. “A few days. Now you can stop being so sad.” 
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You were ecstatic when they arrived, ready to hear about their grueling journey, and more so happy to see Dan Heng. As March relived her storytelling, you observed him. He seemed to be in a trance. His expression was the same as always, but he felt disconnected from you, like he discerned a grim future. He didn’t come to dinner and went to sleep. When you asked March if something happened, she shifted uncomfortably but finally spoke.  
“Dan Heng...he changed on the Xianzhou Luofu.” She’d conveniently left out most of the story. 
“What do you mean ‘changed’?” you questioned, finding it hard to mask your worries. “He had horns and... It was all really new. I kinda wanna forget about it, too.” You didn’t pressure her for more information, and she went to her room shortly after.  You tossed in your sleep, wondering what he must’ve gone through, and what you could do to help him. 
You awoke in an inky blue void, the stars cascading a brilliant aura across the night. There were no other planets visible; only the vast moon, a divinely warm glow, alluring and protective in your gaze. Heavenly bodies carried infinitely above, shaping the moon in its godlike image. You stood in a comparatively small pool of iridescent liquid that waterfalled off each side. It marbled from refracted shimmers, cool to the touch. Somehow life emerged in the barren quiet, white lotus’ decorating most of the area. They never spilled down the stream, as if they'd been waiting. In said pool, was a man with elvish ears and gleaming horns, kneeling turned away from you. His pale arms were shackled behind him, and his delicate hair cascaded down his naked back. If you listened closely, you could hear the faint sobs he tried to stifle. You wanted to comfort him, to calm his nerves. You took a step, and he stopped. He didn’t acknowledge you. You took another step, your hand wishing to touch him. Before you could, you phased out of your dream.  
For the next two weeks, he didn’t leave his room. Not when you were around. At the same time, this reoccurring dream was plaguing your thoughts. It ended the same way each time. March aimed to console you, but you felt she knew more than she led on. Fatigued from your restless mind, you decide to talk to Himeko instead. She stirs her drink while Welt reads the paper. 
“Good morning, (Y/N).” said Welt. 
“Good...morning.” you yawned, rubbing your worsening eyebags. 
“You don’t seem okay. Is everything alright?” Himeko asks, motioning for you to sit beside her. 
“Something is wrong with Dan Heng and March isn’t telling me everything. I was hoping you would.” Welt clears his throat, sets the paper on the table and walks away. Himeko puts her hand on your knee. 
“He’s feeling unwell right now. It’s best we don’t disturb him.” 
“I’ve been having this weird dream, of a guy with horns. He’s crying. And I can’t save him. What does this mean? Why is everyone keeping this from me?” Alarm flashes in her expression, but she composes herself. She sucks in a deep breath. “Do you know what a Vidyadhara is?”  
“No.” 
“Vidyadhara descended from dragons, and they’re very powerful. Dan Heng is a special case of Vidyadhara, so we must treat him as such.” 
“So why can’t I see him?”  
“It’s important that we avoid him while he’s in the process of...getting through this.” 
“But someone has to check on him, right? I could be the one to do it-” 
“(Y/N). Dan Heng requested specifically, that I don’t allow you to see him.” You felt your heart pierce. You believed you were friends with him, so why was he forcing you away? “Oh. Okay.” you said meekly. You went back to your room to contemplate. 
 You were a ghost throughout the day, serving food in silence. When the crew went to bed you prepared a hearty soup to soothe whatever illness he had. He’d probably reject it, but the selfish side wanted to know why he was upset with you. Even if he didn’t have an answer, perhaps his voice would be adequate. Arriving at his door, you knock twice gently. 
“I have some soup for you. Himeko said you were feeling ill. I won’t disrupt you, just want to make sure you’re eating.” He said nothing. “If you’re not hungry, let me know and I can store it for tomorrow. You can’t get better on an empty stomach.” You hear rustling inside, but he still said nothing. 
“Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry if I did.” 
“You didn’t do anything wrong, but I need you to go away.” His voice is feeble, and it scares you. 
“Can I please leave this on your desk? I’ll go away right after, I promise.” You 're practically begging, but you need to see him and know he’s okay. Dan Heng’s weakening mindset rationalizes his risky judgement, and he allows you to come in. He should be able to defend you from himself with the strength he has left; there’s no other choice. “Okay.” 
When you open the door, you’re horrified at the state. Books and precious documents were strewn across the floor or shredded, along with most of the blankets. He’s hunched over on the futon clenching his abdomen, strands of hair sticking to his shiny forehead and puffy lips. He was in a form you've never seen, dressed in elegance in contrast to his shaking figure. The clothes were disheveled, however, the window on his top ripped down the middle, exposing the muscular torso underneath with his pants pulled just under his v-line. He's flushed and sweating, a look in his eyes that both terrifies and excites you. What was most shocking were the pointy ears and horns protruding from his head. The same ones from your dream. He tracks you as you walk to his desk. He’s undoubtedly weak, and yet you feel hunted. You set the soup down. 
“Shouldn’t you ask Bailu about this?” 
“I did already. There’s nothing she can do. I have to wait.” You get on your knees next to him, and he recoils from your proximity. 
“Wait for what?” 
“I'm hot all over, all the time. Nothing I do works, even when I feel good it’s not enough.” he rasps. His eyes are shut in an attempt to null the intense sensation blazing in his veins. You ultimately realize what he means and regret your cluelessness. Still, you don’t leave, deconstructing his resolve. Suddenly, Dan Heng feels the tender press of your palm to his forehead; the touch of someone he could recognize in different timelines and different bodies. The scent of morning dew at early sunrise, the light in its darkness, bitter and sweet and persistent. He punished the thought of ravaging you, but the incessant thump of his member was staggering. He grabs your wrist tight, a guilty look in his eyes. 
“I can’t control myself. Go. Now” he shouts. His anger doesn’t scare you, and your other hand caresses his cheek. 
“Does it hurt? I can help you.” Dan Heng’s frozen as your fingers travel down his Adam's apple, then his chest, to the hem of his bottoms. He’s on his back taking deep labored breaths, the print growing from your airy brushes. 
“I don’t want you to be in pain anymore.” 
You spring his cock free, and it bounces into your hand. It’s thick and almost twelve inches, a rosy-brown gradient to the mushroom tip. His veins dance around the rounded spikes lining up his shaft on both sides. A frustrated sigh leaves him, beads of pre come dripping down his balls. You lubricate your hands with his slick and start to slowly pump him. His head is spinning, the intoxicating ecstasy makes him rut his hips and bite his blushed lips. You fondle his balls with one hand while massaging the tip with the other. Whimpers echo pleasantly in your ears, and he can’t stop watching you, drinking up your shy glances. It twitches in your hold; you can feel how close he is. He’s falling apart because of you and your dampened underwear accepts it. You push your thumb in his mouth and part it to reveal excessive drool and sharp canines.  
“Do you like it?” you tease. He makes noise resembling an “uh huh” through teary eyes. 
“You wanna come?” He quivers from the question. He can only manage a moan. You move to his base, and you slaver at the daunting size before running your tongue along the urethra and taking him in your mouth. He throws his head back but tries to restrain himself from bucking into you. You can barely get it halfway as his cockhead kisses the back of your throat. You hollow your cheeks and start bobbing your head, he trembles from unconstrained pleasure.  
“Please, I’ll do anything please let me come” he whines, tears spilling down his cheeks. You move your hands with the suction along his gradually noisy whimpers, the occasional gag from sloppy grinding. 
“Ah, ‘m gonna come-” he chokes, his chest hitched rapidly, spurting ropes that flood your throat. He rides the wave against you until you pull up. When you meet with him again, his demeanor changes. He instantly snatches you into his arms and smothers his nose in your stomach. He tears your clothes off impatiently, just to taste your bare skin. “Dan-” 
“You smell so good. Aeons, why do you smell so good.” He gazes at you darkly, littering wet kisses across your stomach and chest. His slender hands grope and explore anything they can reach. It was like he had a burst of energy; he nearly lifts you off his lap. You notice his horns get progressively longer, a dim radiance outlining them. His nails grew too, they dragged light scratches over your breasts to your hips. He pulls you to him, lips barely hovering before they collide into a deep, passionate exchange. Unspoken words allow teeth and tongue to mix, and you moan into each other. The pheromones hugging his consciousness are addictive, he needs more of it. He promptly flips you on your back, his eyes look down on you with a starving glint. 
“I’m hungry now.” 
“Oh sure, I can warm up the-” 
“No. Let me eat you.” His statement was more of a demand than a request, as he mangles your panties down your legs. He forces your thighs back and appreciates the glistening sticky folds. “Stunning” he purrs. He licks a flat strip to your clit and laps up your juices, then envelops his mouth in your heat. His firm squeeze prevents you from escaping the determined pink muscle, swirling and twisting around you. He switches between French kisses to your vulva and merciless sucking on the erect bud. He’d rather drown in you than catch his breath, your essence covers his jaw and chin. You card your fingers through his scalp and accidentally sweep his horns; he shudders. You rub the pad of your thumb on it, earning a strangled whimper. His tongue sinks into your passage and begins to move at a brutal pace. You tease the sensitivity in his horns, flicking and circling them. The vibrations from his moans rock against your walls and your hips stutter. “Ah- I’m close” you plead. He stimulates your clit, and you pulse around him before your back arches, and you unwind. His mouth is stitched to you as you try to wriggle out of his grasp. He continues to devour your climax. He hoists your lower half off the ground, savoring your honeyed desire, laughing from your overstimulated cries. You’re spasming and feel your heart racing in your ears. He stops at the approaching precipice and lays you down. Balmy kisses dot your knees. 
“Please Dan Heng, more” you beg. 
“(Y/N), I don’t want to hurt you.” He's throbbing, and he straightens your legs to roll his hips between your thighs. The plush fat cuddles his cock and he pants. You grab his hand. 
“It’s okay, I’m yours. I know you don’t mean to hurt me.” 
“But-” 
“I love you” you blurt out. “Please, I want to have this with you. I can handle it, I promise.” Your vulnerability surprises you, and he stops. 
“You...love me?” he questions. For a split second, you see sadness and despair. No one stood to consider an exile incapable of love, but you did. No one bothered to defrost the drifting hollow, but you did. The undying weeps. 
“I love you. I would destroy every star and planet in your name. Carve your worth into the cosmos so that even Fuli could worship your memory. I am yours in its entirety, and I’ll only live for you.” You wipe the tears as they come down and kiss his troubles away. 
“I want you inside me” you whisper. He stands and scoops you up, his hands on your ass and your arms around his neck. He aligns his tip with your sex and lowers you into the plunge. The stretching blaze of your walls accommodating his girth is excruciating.  
“Is this okay?” 
“Yes.” You give him a reassuring smile. He’s stuffing you full, the spikes knead your inner walls the deeper he goes. He bottoms out and stays there for a while. 
“Tell me when to move” he soothes. 
“Go ahead.” He starts an unrelenting tempo, and you grip him like a vice, your arousal drenching his balls. The thundering sound of desperate huffs and squelching, smacking flesh is almost embarrassing; you both don’t care, indulging each other. You could’ve sworn you saw something similar to a dragon's tail swaying behind him, or maybe your mind played tricks on you. Strings of saliva connect his fangs, eyes cloudy with carnal impulse and cock twitching from the friction. He can see the bulge snapping in and out of your stomach and groans.  
“Deeper.” He pulls out and lays you on the futon before positioning you in a mating press. In one swoop he jackhammers your cunt, balls swinging and ragged breath on your ear. His hair blankets you and you soak in his sweating physique, his needy appearance. 
“Gonna breed this pretty pussy” he moans. Eyeing the unoccupied space on your neck, he salivates. You guide his lips to your neck, encouraging him, and he takes the bait. He ruptures the skin with sharp teeth; harsh puncture wounds remain. He licks the blood away, adamant on claiming you. The spikes massage your g-spot, and your eyes loll back, pleasure and pain blurring. Dan Heng loses his composure, frenetic thrusting as he chases his release. 
“I’m gonna come!” 
“That’s it, come with me, my love” he groans. You see black as tremors overtake you and a stream of squirt coats you both. Your wails flow into the halls. Your contracting vulva sends him over the edge, and he finally comes undone, painting your insides to the hilt. You milk every last drop of his gushing seed, and he jerks a few times until limp. The creamy, swelling base pushes your folds to capacity. It's barbed wire in your gut. He strokes and kisses your face. 
“I'm sorry, it’ll go down soon.” With your legs wrapped around him and his head snug against your cheek, you weren’t sure if you wanted it to go down. 
His curse may not be lifted through your embrace. But in your arms, his shackles don't feel as heavy. 
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just-a-sewer-goblin · 1 month
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Part 2 to this
Butcher!Simon x gn!reader
Butcher!Simon who is bored. It's a regular day and he just doesn't enjoy interacting with customers. It's just not his thing. The only exception is you but you always come in on tuesday and friday and today is neither. He sighs and grunts when another customer pays and leaves.
Imagine the way he suddenly perks up when he sees you approach the shop. The shop is empty except for him and so he gets the joy of watching you approach, your big ugly mutt on a leash, pacing besides you, never even tugging on the leash, focused on you.
The corner of his mouth twitches upwards when you stop before the shop and chew your lip indecisively rereading the sign that forbids dogs from entering (he loved and hates when you do that, nasty habit, but he wants to be the one to bite your lip instead).
You meet his eyes, that are already trained on you, intensely, and in an effort to not make you more uncomfortable he waves.
Shit did that look too excited? Maybe he can reassure you if he nods at you so you bring the dog in with you?
He nods his head at you. Hopefully you get what he's trying to tell you and don't think he's completely lost his mind now.
And oh, his thoughts come to a screeching halt, when you open the door and enter the shop, your dog at your hip.
Goddamit, Simon nearly groans in frustration. He wanted to prepare dog treats, but he didn't expect you today. How is he supposed to charm you if your brute of a dog doesn't like him?
But he doesn't have time to think more about that because you're at the counter and smile at him. He notices how much more at ease and confident you seem with your calf of a dog with you.
Maybe your dog is your equivalent of his mask.
And suddenly he's nervous. He never cared about the impression he makes on other but man, does he want to get along with your dog. He tries to hide his nerves when he says: "Didn't expect you today." His voice is gruff.
You don't seem as intimidated today, patting the head of your dog and saying with a smile that's audible in your voice (god, what he'd do to be the cause of that smile): "Yeah today is an exception. It's the anniversary of when I got my big baby."
Simon grabs the counter to keep from reaching for you and just snatching you up in his arms. Fuck. What he'd do for you to look at him like that, to call him your big baby. Maybe in his next life he gets to be reborn as your pet.
He nods at you, eyes intensely trained on your happy expression. "May I give him a treat, as an anniversary gift?"
Will you think that's ridiculous? Tell him to fuck off because it aint his business and he's being a creep anyway with the way he can't. Fucking. Take. His. Eyes. Off. You.
Instead you beam up at him and Simon feels something in his chest clench painfully at that. "Yes, of course."
He reaches for a piece of meat and steps out behind the counter. Pretending that he doesn't see the way your eyes widen when he steps closer and you grow more aware of just how broad and big he is. Pretending that he doesn't notice the way your hands clench around the leash tighter.
"He's friendly, just let him take it from you and don't pet him. He doesn't like that.", you say putting a reassuring hand on the back of your mutt.
Simon extends his hand with the meat and tried to read the tag at his collar.
"Easy, boy. Just a treat for you, for taking care of your owner so well."
He's so focused on trying to impress the dog (why is this so nerve wrecking) that he misses the way you bite your lip at the sound of his voice. He's insanely proud that he managed to not say "my love" instead. Doesn't want to scare you off after all.
Your dog takes a step forward, sniffs his fingers for a tense minute and then gently takes the meat from his hand, chewing it loudly making a pleased rumbling sound.
Simon feels like he won the lottery.
"Good boy.", your voice rings out and now it's not only Simons chest that clenches but something deep in his stomach as well, something delicious and needy.
His eyes meet yours and he feels like he's doused in cold water when he sees you looking at the dog.
You were talking to the dog. Of course.
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pheonixgrave · 9 months
Text
Safety
I saw a post the other day about Astarion watching Tav get railed by Halsin and this is what happened, I am so sorry :D
Warnings: Blood drinking, big Halsin, threesome, virgin tav is really into pain, service dom Halsin, sub Astarion, sub Tav, Astarion's poor relationship with sex, aftercare, oral, very large Halsin, set near end of act III
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“Are you sure about this?” Tav sat on the edge of a private bed in Sharess’ Caress with Astarion sitting in a rather comfortable looking armchair facing her. He was lounging with a glass of wine in his hand. Just as she was clad only in a periwinkle satin robe that clung to her body.
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t, darling. Are you sure about this?” He could tell she was nervous. They had rented this room for one reason only. Privacy. While they had the rooms at the Elfsong, Astarion didn’t want the rest of their party listening in. 
“I want to, I’m just nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before.” She chuckled, he knew. Of course he knew, why did she have to say it? Her nerves were starting to get the better of her. She tried breathing through it but her heart would not stop racing.
He smiled at her before rising to his feet. He walked over to her and cupped her face in his hands, “Nothing is going to happen if you don’t want it to. And you do have me here, I won’t let anything go further than what you want.”
“I trust you,” she placed a soft kiss against his lips before smiling. “But I can’t promise this will go smoothly.”
“My love, nothing goes smoothly when you’re involved.” He kissed her again, “maybe I could help you relax just a little before he gets here.”
“What do you mean?” His hands started to wander down her arms, slowly reaching the tie that kept her robe together. 
Normally, someone of her station would have something longer, a little more regal. But this was not a regal situation. “Perhaps I can make you just a tad more comfortable.” With deft hands, he untied her robe. Gods, her freckled skin always made him catch his breath. But backlit by the sun setting outside, she looked like a goddess reborn. A perfect halo around her newly scarred body.
She only nodded, still embarrassed by the intimacy of it all. Her words may have been caught in her throat but her body obeyed. She spread her legs for him to fit between them. She leaned back on her elbows as he ever so gently pushed her back. “Astarion?”
“Shh, darling, let me.” He dropped to his knees. Holding her thighs open, he licked a long stripe against her cunt. She gasped but tangled her fingers in his hair. He only wanted to bring her to that edge and maybe prep her just a little. He made lazy circles around her clit while she writhed on the bed. It was his favorite dance with her. 
But before he would get too wrapped up in the taste of her, the doors swung open. To say Halsin was a presence was an understatement. And as soon as Astarion went to pull away to make room, the druid held him there. “Do not stop on my account.”
Tav immediately went to cover herself  and they let her, but Astarion’s tongue continued. This time encouraged by an audience, he buried his face in her cunt. Leaving no inch undiscovered, he couldn’t help but fuck her with his tongue. Tav tried to stay quiet, tried to keep her moans to herself. What she did with Astarion was filthy enough and adding the archdruid seemed so strange to her. She turned her face towards him and watched him slowly start to undress. He was so…large. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about being held by him. It was almost enough to distract her from the Rogue between her legs. Almost. 
She felt her orgasm wash over her as he gave her clit a slight nip. "Astarion!" She cried, giving his hair a harsh tug.
He let her ride out her high for a moment before standing before her, her legs still spread and her chest heaving. The golden rays of the sun surrounded her now. Her golden hair fanned out behind her and the flush of her skin was all Astarion wanted to look at. Dazed by her taste and how angelic Tav looked at that moment, he didn't notice Halsin turning him around to face him. 
Halsin wasn't one to waste time, not when it came to this. He held Astarion's face and smashed his lips against the smaller elf's. Tav could do nothing but watch the druid ravage him. It took her breath away to watch him pick Astarion up and drop him in the chair yet again. The two made eye contact for a moment. He looked positively wrecked. His face was far more flushed than usual and she could see how hard he was through his trousers. It made her cunt clench. 
Then he turned to her. "Astarion was right. You taste as sweet as any wine." If it had been possible, the bard would have even blushed even more. Halsin towered over her. She watched as he slowly unbuckled his breeches, her breath catching in her throat. The initial trepidation had been washed away with Astarion. Or so she had thought.
Halsin was big. Astarion was nothing to scoff at but Halsin was another creature entirely. She swallowed hard, "Is that even going to fit?"
He slowly started stroking himself, "It has before in much smaller."
"Gods," she practically whimpered, tossing her head against the pillows.
"Did you prep her?" His voice was so low and hungry. 
"I didn't have enough time, you barged in before I could really commit." Astarion sounded like a different person. He was far more whiny than before. He was feeling just as needy as she was. 
"Sit behind her." Astarion moved before she realized it, sitting against the pillows and resting her head resting on his chest. It dawned on her that he liked following his commands. She could feel how hard he was pressed against her back. "Good boy."
A shiver ran down the rogue's back as a light whimper escaped him.
"Now hold her just like that," he stood between her legs with Astarion propping her up. It took her by surprise when Halsin's thick fingers spread her cunt open. "Such a pretty girl," he murmured to himself before slowly slipping just one finger inside her. Tav writhed against the vampire spawn, silently begging for more. She tried to gain a little friction by grinding her hips against his hand. "Hold her, Astarion." 
It was a quick command but one he followed without thinking. He wrapped his arms around her middle. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, "Are you alright, love?"
She whimpered but nodded. She simply needed more. "Touch her."
His hands were quick to find her breasts. She arched her back into his touch as Halsin added a second finger and started practically pistoning his fingers in and out of her. "Gods!" 
"Good, just let go for me. You will have to cum around my fingers before I give either of you anything else." Halsin watched the two in front of him. Astarion might have needed this more than he had thought. And so did Tav. It was impossible not to find either of them attractive. It had been even more impossible to ignore that attraction. And now that she was laid bare in front of him with him behind her, it was almost too much. He silently prayed to the Oak Father for control.
Tav's moans got louder. Her hands gripped Astarion's shirt as he played with her breasts. She thought the attention Astarion gave her was overwhelming but it was nothing compared to the attention of the two elfs. “Shit,” she gasped as her cunt clenched around Halsin’s fingers. 
He removed his fingers from her, not hesitating to suck them clean. “If I did not want to take you now, I would spend hours just tasting you.”
She only whined in response, still coming down from another high. She never imagined herself as a plaything before. But she could scarcely think of little else than the two men using her body. The thought alone was nearly enough to push her over the edge again. She didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought. Halsin used his other hand to direct her face towards him. “Is this what you want?”
She nodded.
“I need more than that.”
“Yes! Just-”she whined, “please!” 
Halsin smiled to himself. They had jumped into this with little preparation or conversation and a part of him was worried it might be too much. He was already worried that giving Astarion commands would be too much yet he followed them so sweetly. The two of them were so eager to obey him. He held her thighs apart, taking a moment to watch her cunt twitch in anticipation before dragging himself through her folds. He groaned as he slowly pushed his way inside her. 
She cried out at the stretch. Gods, it hurt. Her face twisted from pleasure to pain. Astartion hushed her, gently stroking her cheek. “I know, darling, you have to relax.” She nodded, focusing on her breathing. 
Halsin stopped, gently stroking her thighs. “Are you alright?”
“Gods, don’t you dare stop now,” she nearly cried. Between a shady priest and Astarion, she had learned that pain was merely a motivator. 
It took patience and care, but eventually he found himself completely buried inside of her. She looked so small like this but so tight and hot. He leaned down to press a kiss against her lips. A kiss she eagerly returned, a hand threading itself through his hair. He broke away panting, leaning towards Astarion next. He could feel his fangs nip at his lips. Not intentionally, just silently begging for more. He braced himself standing at the edge of the bed, holding her thighs apart. “Are you ready?”
Another nod. This time, he didn’t make her talk, just gave a couple shallow thrusts. Those shallow thrusts slowly turned harder and harder until he was practically punching the air from her lungs. Without thinking, he grabbed Astarion’s hand and pulled it towards her clit. Normally, he was slow and teasing with his ministrations. But something about watching someone else fuck her into her own oblivion made him wild. Quick and purposeful circles around her clit combined with Halsin’s rough treatment had her back arching in almost no time at all. 
In a daze, Tav grabbed the back of Astarion’s head and brought him down towards her. She wanted to kiss him, to feel him too. Most of all? She wanted him to bite her. Once she broke the kiss, she bared her neck to him in a silent plea. Astarion looked at Halsin through his eyelashes. She wasn’t the only one who looked absolutely wrecked. 
The druid’s eyes were transfixed on her cunt swallowing him whole. His chest was heaving as he held her trembling thighs open. “Hells,” he whispered underneath his breath. He glanced up at the rogue, who was equally transfixed on his cock bullying her. “Say what you need, Astarion.” He growled, closer to his own end than he would like.
Astarion stroked her neck with the hand that wasn’t still circling her clit. "She's asking for a bite," he all but whined and pouted.
"By all means," he had never seen something like that. He couldn't pretend that he wasn't curious and if she was asking in the throes of another orgasm? Who was he to deny her?
Astarion adjusted so he could be closer to her neck, she didn't seem to notice. She could only moan and cry out nonsense. And then he bit her neck, right where her scars were forming at the juncture of her neck. 
Halsin watched her eyes roll back in her head as she scratched at the vampire’s thighs and created a vice grip on his cock. It was too much even for him, he tried to hold back, to let her ride out this high one more time. But he couldn’t. He pulled out right before he finished, coating her body in his seed as Astarion drank from her. He stood there for a moment, trying to collect his own thoughts. Astarion was running his hands up and down her body, making a mess on her stomach, her neck seemingly forgotten.
He dragged his fingers through Halsin’s seed, using the other hand to pry her mouth open. She sucked in his fingers without question. It was salty and earthy, she gagged at first but tried to lick Astarion’s fingers clean. And she swallowed every drop on his hands. If he wasn’t careful, Halsin would need another chance to bury himself inside her. Now that he’s had her, could he ever truly think of anything else?
Without warning, Astarion left her side, positioning himself at the edge of the bed once more. Only a fool would be able to miss the tent in his trousers. Halsin watched him lick every drop of his seed off her stomach while his hand found her clit once more while Tav looked at Halsin with pleading eyes. 
“Good boy,” Halsin’s hands wrapped around his own cock, watching the vampire clean the bard with his tongue. “Do you wish to fuck her too? I would hate for you to be left wanting.”
For once, Astarion had nothing to say. With clumsy hands, he stripped out of his clothes. Tav was far too gone to notice him shaking. But Halsin watched him bury his cock in her cunt and watched her nearly scream. He watched him fuck her with reckless abandon. It didn’t feel like the Astarion he knew. He walked behind him, running his hands down his arms. “She is not going anywhere, sweetling. You are safe,” he whispered into the vampire’s ears. 
His grip on Tav tightened while Halsin kissed his neck and rubbed gentle circles on his thighs as she reached He let him work out whatever he was feeling on her already abused cunt. Astarion came with a strangled cry. He collapsed on Tav, tangling his limbs with hers. The two laid there, completely spent and out of breath with tears pricking his eyes. Halsin felt his heart swell looking at the two. He smiled to himself before walking towards the washroom. Casting a spell to warm the water already sitting in the room’s tub. 
First, he scooped up Tav in his arms. She nuzzled against his chest and welcomed the warmth of the water. Next he swept Astarion in his arms and sat him next to the bard. It was a quick thing getting the two of them scrubbed down. Eventually, Astarion came back into his right mind and started scrubbing Tav’s hair. Tav, who was still in a dazed state, simply leaned against the much larger elf as the vampire helped scrub her body. For a while after, Halsin simply held the two smaller elfs as they curled against him and simply slept. He hadn’t expected to stay but he was more than happy to.
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suguru-getos · 3 months
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| Bully!Satoru Gojo x F!reader | Part 3 |
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Part I, II
Summary: You had just transferred schools, and your first day was an encounter with your new bully. He’s mean, terrifically hot & absolutely a menace. Though there’s more to that personna.
Chapter Summary: After taking an off from school, you are back & Satoru is hovering around you like a looming threat. Suguru is there to defend you this time, but with your rage spiralling, you couldn’t help but ruin the two weeks of you being amicable.
Warnings: Bully!Mean!Satoru ofc, but hey he’s a pookie at heart & he’s contemplating whether to stop!! ✋ Reader-chan snapped in this chapter, soft Sugu<3
Comment down below if you want to be tagged ^^ New chapter comes out every week!
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Satoru feels upset and sick to his stomach, as someone who can be often used to people grovelling for him, being scared of him, and just respecting him as the honored one. You weren’t doing any of those and yet, you were suffering all the same. Any other girl would have chosen the easy way out, what does it need really? Apologize? Cry a little? Why aren’t you doing that?
All he could see was you going back home, the summer sun not being kind to you as you drag your feet back, after carrying his school bag for him. Suguru isn’t talking to him either. He simply said he doesn’t like to associate with feminine men who want to proclaim their ego more than their humanity. Boy that fucking stung & Satoru told Suguru to piss off before he’s beaten to a pulp. It’s not how Satoru was treating you which was a problem for him, he never hoped it would drag so much. All his blinding rage of the moment is fading off easy. He couldn’t drag this for a month for the life of him.
People love hanging out with Satoru also, despite whatever worshipping there is — he still has friends. This is surely one of the reasons they lurk around despite his intrinsic, domineering brattitude. He rolled his eyes upon realizing that he’s been standing there watching you walk away & scoffs, going inside.
Your shoulders hurt but you know his and your home is too far. You decide to use whatever pocket money you have to book a cab and leave home. Once you’ve reached, of course there are questions. Questions from your mum who’s calls you ignored. “Where were you? Why are you coming home from a fucking cab?” She snarled, raising a brow at your tired features. Your parents are normal, not too supportive not too toxic. However, normalcy when you’re imposed with external toxicity sounds toxic. Or maybe they just were… toxic. How would you decide either way? It’s not like you’ve taken trial periods of new parents to come to a decision.
“Sorry; head hurts. I’ll be in my room.” You dragged yourself across the expensive marble flooring of your home. You weren’t poor, per se… you just weren’t made privileged either.
Once you reached home, you sighed, back laid across the mattress and staring out into space. The sight of you drenched in cold water, the way your shoulders have red markings of the bag straps, all because you threw some gravy over the fucking bastard! You grit your teeth, jaw clenching. Fuck you hate him.
You hate that you’re crying again, tears and frustration bubbling in your eyes as you sniffled. Leaning your forehead against the mattress and curling up. You want to kick his ass so bad. If only this parental thing wasn’t involved…
The next day you’re not in school, your period had been unbearably shitty & so was your mental health along with migraines. The next day either, and not even the day after. Satoru is getting restless every day, walking to your class and seeing your seat vacant, walking away. Why the fuck does he not have your number? Why the fuck does it even matter… did he make you leave the school? Nah- why would you leave the school it wasn’t that bad right?
It was Friday again, four days of you not being here… you really thought maybe he would count this in the month? It’s almost two weeks over! Then again, Satoru Gojo would just push it for another four days of you serving him because you were absent. When you enter the school premises, you take a long breath, alright. No biggie, he’s just an annoying bully with Daddy’s money in his pockets.
The moment you enter, you find him lurching towards you, a beaming smile with black glasses. He looks so beautiful if he wasn’t so fucking shitty. You looked up at him and before he could say anything, “I was sick, even in companies and where you work, people are allowed to be sick. You can’t really extend the number of days because I was sick. That’s h-how it normally happens.” You mustered, defensive in your stance.
Oh… wow. He was just here to say hello, ask where you were and that if he had been too annoying that you decided not to come to school. Satoru was going to be nicer. Again, broken a little because you think so shitty of him. Not that he cares… he doesn’t… he— doesn’t…. Does he?
“Yeah, yeah I get you; damn do I scare you that much?” He chuckled, hands in his pockets. You knew you couldn’t say any of the twenty ass biting replies that you had logged at the back of your tongue. “Yeah, you’re my highschool nightmare, Gojo san.” You hummed, walking away.
He’s shamelessly following you, holding your wrist. “Didn’t say I was finished, did I?” His playfulness is gone, replaced by something carnal, icy again. You only manage to shake your head no. “Four days at home got you forgetting how to act right, hm?”
Satoru leaned down, making eye contact with you. You glanced at him back, pouting helplessly and shaking your head no. “Just- didn’t think you need me.”
He didn’t really plan on it, he just wanted to have a conversation! Why were you sick? His stomach was turning upside down at the thought of you handling Japan’s heat at 3 PM that Monday. He could’ve asked if you wanted some water… fuck this. He made this bet to make you suffer & you were suffering. What’s the problem really?
The problem was he wasn’t an asshole he pretended to be… and he didn’t think this would drag so long. Haven’t you seen other girls? They fawn over him endlessly, buzzing around him & always eager to have a speck of his attention. This is what makes him pissed off, again.
“You think a lot for someone who’s as dumb as you.” He chuckled, jabbing at your self respect once more like it’s free reign. “Sorry, tell me what is it you need from me?” You just ignore everything he says and focus on one goal. For this hellish month to end so you are free from Satoru Gojo’s clutches. Though with the way he talks to you, it does seem like you could handle your mother taunting you for months about how stupid you are after giving him the money. At least… she’s blood.
“Hey” the next voice that echoed was Suguru. He was the best friend who was around him of course. You remember his gaze, it wasn’t pity towards you when Satoru practically bore you naked in the cafeteria by spilling water over your white shirt. It was rage, subjected for Satoru & Satoru alone.
Satoru raised his brow, “Don’t interfere where you’re not needed, Suguru.” He snapped, while the latter only smiled in an annoyingly calm manner. “Wasn’t talking to you.” He simply answered your bully, looking at you. “Welcome back, I thought you had left the school.” He smiled, giving you the same popsickle that Satoru had you fetch.
You didn’t take it from him, why is he so hell bent on making things worse for you? Though his act of kindness doesn’t go unnoticed. It was like rain on lava. Bubbling emotions rushing down as you couldn’t help but blink furiously to evade the tears you find coming. “N- no, I’m uh… okay. I was just sick.” You managed, gnawing at your lip and wanting the world to swallow you whole. People on their way to classes were already seeing you between the two hot-shots of the school.
“So you can cry huh?” Satoru laughed, almost in disbelief. This is what he wanted didn’t he? Anything said by Suguru which made you emotional had you snap back instantly. “Do you need anything from me or can I go to class?” You say with such hatred it’s truly shocking.
“Yeah, write one thousand times that you will not leave my side until I’m not finished talking.” Satoru says simply, oh he’s pulling off Suguru’s rage on you now.
“You don’t have to do shit- it’s-” before Suguru could say anything else, you nodded. “Mkay. Can I go to class now?”
Satoru gnawed at his lip, he didn’t want today to be like this. He really thought he could make some progress. “Yeah, handwriting can’t be shitty or you rewrite.” He pushed your boundaries once more, hoping to earn a reaction out of you yet again.
“Understood.” You nodded, walking away. Just two more weeks… just, two more weeks.
During the lunch time, you go to him naturally. “Heh, shouldn’t she sit on the floor?” One of his classmates smirked when you walked to him. Oh?
“Shouldn’t you lay down on the floor?” You asked him, before launching a kick right at his face, knocking him unconscious as he dropped down. Wow… everyone was stunned, including Gojo Satoru. Another reminder that he only has you on a leash because he played dirty, another reminder that you are different.
He snickered, of course he wouldn’t chide you for kicking some random asshole’s ass? He would’ve done the same. How he treats you is his problem. Though, you’re pissed, “This is what I didn’t want.” You looked at him, gritting your teeth. “You treating me like shit gives other people the right to treat me like shit.”
You were… wrong. This wouldn’t end after a month? What were you even thinking? There would be other people who would rise up after him to bother you. “I’ll get you the fucking money to shove far up your pathetic ass.” Here you go, losing it again…
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silkscream · 5 months
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resurrection
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yuuta okkotsu x reader
ੈ✩ wc: 1.5k
ੈ✩ tags: smut (18+, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), yandere!yuuta (ish), obsession, death (yuuta literally brings you back to life), best friends to lovers, dubcon just to be safe (ur both so out of it lol), angst, not edited we die like men
ੈ✩ a/n: idk where this came from ok. runs away
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you hadn’t prepared for death.
it was foolish of you. the prospect of it crossed your mind from the moment you stepped foot into jujutsu tech, yet it didn’t truly seep into your brain until your last few breaths. you were too busy wrapped up in the world of sorcery, naive and easily excited. you didn’t know how to be selfish.
evidently, neither did yuuta.
this is why you wake up in his arms, heart nearly hammering out of your chest from adrenaline. a corpse reborn.
you assumed death wouldn’t be so gory, that you’d go out in a blink and be welcomed with darkness. you never thought there would be a possibility for you to come back. it feels more like purgatory than reality, to be honest. and yet, the feeling of cold hands on you is more real than anything else — the touch makes your insides churn. your skin hot.
he shakes as he says your name. a pleading thing.
your mind swims with fog. your guardian angel is awfully pretty. pale, delicate skin with a split lip. black, shaggy hair hanging down over his dark blue eyes. long, slender fingers that grasp you with urgency. you blink twice and the angel is made in the image of your best friend.
“y-yuuta?”
“you— you’re okay,” he sobs. his teardrops fall onto your cheek.
“i’m okay,” you repeat.
you’re surprised when he kisses you square on the mouth, feverish in his movements, desperate in the insistence of his tongue past your lips. you stay like this for a bit — mindless and wrapped up in him. tasting copper and mint. he releases you when he hears you whine.
“yuuta—”
“fuck, i’m sorry. i’m sorry.”
“it’s okay,” you whisper. you hang your head on his shoulder with eyes closed. the stench of blood surrounds you. the spills of cadavers that aren’t able to curse anyone anymore.
“i love you so much. couldn’t let you leave me. i’m sorry.”
“you’re apologizing for bringing me back to life?”
his eyes are wide like a deer running from a gunshot. you’ve never seen him like this. yuuta was often a ball of anxiety, but his strength always made up for it. at the moment, his fear makes him look younger.
“i didn’t want to hurt you. i could’ve… killed you if i didn’t do it right.”
“wasn’t i already dead?”
he swallows the lump in his throat, nodding. face full of dread. everything about him is so delicate despite his strength. everything about him is lithe, tender. you feel guilty for not dying.
“i’m sorry,” you stammer, despite knowing you don’t have anything to apologize for, even with your stupid guilt plaguing you. your train of thought runs off its tracks. the only constant is the boy in front of you.
“i love you too, yuuta.”
the way he stares at you is terrifying in a way that you can’t put into words. you still haven’t grasped reality in a way that makes sense since waking up in his arms, which continue to tighten around you. there’s lust in his eyes — like he wants to devour you. you know you’d let him, but your disorientation holds you back.
your best friend brought you back to life, and waking up in his arms feels like heaven. for some reason, it also feels like a courtroom. you think that the devil must be lurking around the corner awaiting your judgment.
yuuta must sense your fear because he kisses you again, more gently this time. your apprehension dissipates, melts into nothing as you revel in the touch of his hands roaming your body. despite being blood-stained, heavy with dread, you feel light and bare with him. you want to be bare with him.
“don’t ever leave me again,” he presses with a hard gaze. as if your dying was your fault. (later, you'll blame yourself.)
“i won’t,” you whisper.
“you know i’d do anything for you, right?”
“really?”
“yeah. anything you want.”
“why’s that?” you blink at him slowly, still out of it slightly. his warmth brings you back to reality in doses.
“because i think you deserve it.”
you’re lost in him. consumed in all of him — from the softness of his hair underneath your fingertips to the feeling of his breath on your cheek. it sends butterflies to your core, makes you delirious in your post-death state. he’s all you know right now.
“what do you think i deserve, yuuta?”
he gnaws on his bottom lip, tries to regulate his breathing. yuuta is definitely not thinking about you on his lap right now. of course not.
“don’t ask me that when you already know the answer,” he rasps. “don’t even — i can’t even put it into words. everything. everything good in this world.”
it’s you who kisses him first this time, hard enough that he loses his balance and doesn’t bother to maintain an upward stance. instead, he lets you straddle him, his back falling onto the ground as your hair falls from your face and tickles his forehead. you lap up his sighs with your mouth and your tongue. the groan that reverberates from his throat excites you.
you’re reckless. a grind of your hips has him panting and you want to tear him up. maybe you’ve been fooled and this really is the afterlife.
but no, everything about yuuta beneath you is so fucking real. his breath. his calloused fingertips trailing along the bruised flesh underneath your torn shirt.
it doesn’t matter, you think to yourself. whether you’re drunk on the strongest liquor or if you’ve ascended to heaven after a gruesome death, you think that god has a soft spot for you. it's the only way you could indulge in this kind of softness, isn't it?
yuuta pulls away from your mouth, a centimeter in distance from you, just to mewl your name.
heaven. you’re convinced it’s heaven. you had died and no one saved you, you think, but your best friend is there to greet you before you settle into your grave. in this case, you'd be fine with your death.
“need you, yuuta,” you whine. “need you so bad.”
your guardian angel would do anything for you, wouldn’t he? he’d spoken his vows to you just moments before, and he intends to follow through with them. but not until he taunts you in the slightest bit.
“what do you need, baby? hm?”
you groan, grazing your fingernails into the flesh underneath his shirt. squeezing at the muscle. pleading. you don’t register what comes out of your mouth. something like a prayer, of wanting him inside, of him fucking you back to earth. in your dreamlike state, you don’t care. as long as the proximity between you and your angel is close in distance, skin to skin. you’d live inside him if you could.
(he had thought the same of you since the moment he met you.)
time slows. you blink a few times, eyelashes fluttering until you’re met with the deepest warmth you could ever feel. a collision of nerves.
yuuta buries himself inside you and you cry out to the universe. he drinks up your moans with his wet mouth, arms clutching your body tightly so that you can’t move.
although he’d brought you back to life, he thinks he could die just from the feeling of being inside you. your warmth could lay him to rest, with blissful peace on all sides.
you — his best friend, his lover, his executioner.
and him — your best friend, your lover, your deity. the one who brought you back to the living.
he hushes sweet nothings into your neck as he cradles you. successions of i love you, i love you, i love you—
and you come undone. it’s the first time tonight you truly feel like you’ve come back to life. power surges through your veins as your eyes awaken to the sheer attention that the earth demands of you.
you inhale once, then exhale, and your eyes meet midnight ocean blues blinking back at you. this is when you feel alive again. maybe the most alive you’ve ever felt in your short life.
“yuuta,” you breathe.
“i’ve got you, baby,” he coos, wrapping you in his clothing. wrapping you in his arms. “let’s go home.”
__
when you wake up in yuuta’s bed the next morning, it all feels like a bad nightmare that only haunted you in your sleep. yet the evidence is all there — bruises on your sides, dried blood on your thighs.
(it was the violent curse that killed you, for sure, but you have flashbacks of yuuta and wonder how strong his hands actually are.)
“yuuta,” you whine.
“baby,” he responds, his voice groggy. “it’s so early, isn’t it?”
“maybe.”
”we can celebrate your new life in a few hours. promise.”
“what if i die again within that time frame?” you pout, curling into him. he lets you, meshes your body into his side.
“i wouldn’t let that happen,” he rasps, kissing your temple. “you’re not allowed to die again. and if you do, i might curse you. and you know how that goes.”
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