#but I'm just starting to feel the edge of reprieve now that fall is on the way

[miasmaghoul]

Why do I never send you prompts? Time to remedy that.

How about some good old fashioned cockwarming? Featuring needy bottom Swiss?

Or, alternatively: someone should really eat Swiss out until he cries.

Comet, darling, did you really think I wouldn't do both?

Rain is feeling extra mean today.

Poor Swiss.

:)

(BEHOLD THE RETURN OF THE SWUSSY)

"I'm hungry," Rain had complained, slouching over the back of the common room couch with his chin hooked on Swiss's shoulder. He'd chuckled and given Rain's hair an affectionate tousle.

"Any particular reason you're telling me this and not the fridge?" Swiss had flipped the page of his magazine. "Last I checked that's where the food lives." Rain had made a sound of amusement, a low hum in the back of his throat.

"Who said anything about food?" He'd pressed a deceptively chaste kiss just behind Swiss's ear, and all of a sudden his reading material wasn't quite so interesting. Especially not when Rain's hand had started travelling down his chest. "I'm in the mood for something much more satisfying."

Rain had thumbed over a nipple, and Swiss had needed exactly zero further convincing to slide from the couch and into Rain's bedroom, already shucking his shirt and working on his belt before they'd even gotten the door shut.

It's been over an hour now, and Swiss has begun to regret his enthusiasm.

Rain has him laid out on soft sheets, every inch of his heated skin alight with sensation. The other ghoul had spent so long working him over, fingers and fangs pressing into his flesh hard enough to leave wonderful purple marks behind. They litter his throat, his chest, his stomach and inner thighs. Rain was slow and relentless about it, not giving Swiss so much as a moment's reprieve before he was sucking another stinging bruise into tender flesh. By the time Rain had finally settled between his quivering thighs Swiss was already panting.

The first swipe of Rain's tongue, a slow lick placed just above the swollen length of his clit, had Swiss arching off the bed with a moan so whorish it had left him blushing.

Rain is good at this. Too good, actually. He knows Swiss's body better than anyone - knows just where to touch, lick and suck to get him writhing. Knows exactly what to do to get him to the edge and keep him there, Swiss teetering on a rapidly rising precipice that Rain refused to let him fall from.

It's agony. Sweet, delicious, maddening agony.

Rain's torment hasn't ceased for a second, the other ghoul lapping so very lazily at his too-sensitive folds. Swiss lost his words a while ago, reduced to nothing but breathy moans and reedy whimpers whenever the pair of slender fingers inside him crook just so. Rain laves at his wet flesh like a man starved, suckling at dusky lips and running his tongue everywhere that wasn't where Swiss needed it most. His clit aches, red and throbbing from having gone utterly untouched since all of this started. The fingers inside him are complimented by a thumb pressed to his tight rim, the tip stroking featherlight through his copious slick. He can feel it soaking into the sheets too, cool against his burning skin every time he wriggles his hips. Tries to get away.

Rain refuses to let him.

He's caught in limbo; drowning in waves pleasure that never crest, a constant build up with no resolution, no relief. Rain has him pinned with nothing but that fucking mouth of his, groaning against Swiss's cunt with no predictability just to hear him suck air through clenched teeth. His other hand is busy abusing Swiss's chest, tugging and flicking each of his nipples in turn with the same lazy pace as his tongue. Swiss shudders when Rain twists his wrist just so, hitting something that has him seeing stars and drooling through a broken moan. He forces himself to breathe deep, balling his fists in the sheets; he'd grabbed at Rain's hair exactly one time, and the resulting snap of fangs far too close to his clit encouraged him not to do it again.

He's so desperate he might anyway.

Swiss swallows hard, tongue too heavy, too thick for the words in his throat to make it out. He fights his trembling muscles to lift his head, the world swimming as he struggles to do anything but moan and twitch under Rain's torturous ministrations. When he finally manages to shake the haze, just enough to bring the room into focus, he sees nothing but Rain.

He's watching Swiss like a hawk, sharp cerulean eyes fixed on his overtly pained face. Rain's soft curls are stuck to his forehead and temples, the uneven splash of freckles over the bridge of his nose so much more obvious against his flushed cheeks. He looks entirely too relaxed for how long they've been at this, hips subtly rutting against the mattress as he works Swiss down to nothing but atoms.

Swiss tries to speak, he really does, but all that comes out is a slurred repetition of Rain, Rain, Rain. The other ghoul gives him a wide, rough lick that has Swiss gasping before pulling back; he's soaked from the nose down in slick, chin shiny with it, and the sight makes Swiss's stomach burn. He clenches hard around the digits invading him with a pitiful squeak. Rain chuckles.

"Do you have something to say, princess?" His voice is rough and gravelly, pure sex. He licks his lips and Swiss whimpers, chewing his own fang-bruised lip. Rain blows a stream of cool air over his clit and Swiss arches so hard his back pops.

"Rain," he finally manages to rasp, struggling to do anything but moan as Rain starts fucking his fingers in deeper. Pressing the tip of that wandering thumb against his hole just hard enough to make it wink. Swiss can't keep his hands to himself any longer, bringing one up to paw feebly at the arm on his chest. It's like his bones are made of jelly. Mercifully, Rain doesn't bite at him for it. "Rain- Rainy, please -"

It's barely a whisper, one that melts into a pathetic whine when Rain presses the very tip of his thumb into Swiss's ass. Just enough to sting. He can feel heat prickling at the backs of his eyes and Swiss prays he can hold in the tears. He groans loud and low when Rain swirls his fingers against that one special spot, ratcheting him closer still. But it's not enough and they both know it. Rain gives him a crooked little smile, grinding a bit more obviously against the bed.

"Please what?" He sounds almost bored, seemingly oblivious to the way Swiss's thighs are practically vibrating against his shoulders. He watches for a beat while Swiss tries to remember how words work.

Rain's fingers are doing a marvelous job of making his brain leak out his ears. His heart dances in his chest, threatening to crash right through his ribcage. Rain gives him an annoyed look.

"I'm going to be upset if you interrupted my lunch for no reason."

Swiss is definitely going to cry. He can feel it, a wave of overwhelm that hits him square in the gut and between the eyes.

He's not like Rain or Dew when it comes to this sort of treatment. Swiss loves the teasing, to be certain, but after a certain point it becomes too much. Just on the wrong side of pleasurable.

That's why Rain insists on treating him this way from time to time - for this exact moment, the one where all words die and the pain and suffering etched into Swiss's face and taut muscles become too much to ignore. Rain must see it now; the edges of his expression soften, even though his gaze remains dark and heavy. He rolls his eyes.

"Already?" Swiss bites his lip hard enough to sting, nodding once. Rain sighs. "But I'm not done eating."

Swiss chokes on a sob, clenching again and cringing at the wet noise his cunt makes around Rain's fingers. He grips the hand on his chest for dear life, and at long last Rain takes mercy. Swiss sags into the mattress when that hand withdraws, the other ghoul holding up his slicked fingers for Swiss to see. They shine in the light and Swiss throbs at the sight. All at once, his words pour out in a confused pile.

"Rain, please, please - you - I - fuck, Rainy I need to, I - I can't, please, you -" With nothing inside him the pleasure starts to recede, and Swiss feels something frantic settling into his chest. "Please make me, please."

He needs Rain to make him cum. If he doesn't, Swiss will surely lose his mind. His breath hitches, a tight wheeze, and Rain shushes him. Caresses his thigh with deceptive gentleness. Swiss's head spins as he throbs again.

Rain disentangles their hands and Swiss nearly panicks at the lack of contact, but it only lasts long enough for the other ghoul to straighten up. Swiss's eyes catch on his cock, flushed and heavy, for just a moment before Rain leans over him, bracketing him with those long arms and catching him in a deep, full kiss.

Swiss sobs into it, immediately getting his hands on Rain's face and holding on for dear life while he tastes nothing but himself. He's shaking like a leaf, twitchy and pleasure-drunk. Rain's dripping length bumps his thigh and Swiss gasps as best he can. Rain pulls back to give him an entirely too sympathetic look.

"Alright," he sighs, resigned, "let me give you what you need."

Swiss tries to cling when Rain moves, but he's too weak. Too fucked out to do anything but quiver and pant. The other ghoul settles next to him, giving his cock a luxurious stroke. Swiss can't take his glassy eyes off of it. He's sure he must be drooling again.

"On your side."

Swiss blinks. On his side? What on his side? Rain rolls his eyes.

"Making me do all the work, as always."

Swiss yelps when Rain wraps a surprisingly strong arm around him, hauling him onto his side until they're back to chest. Rain feels cool and solid behind him, and it soothes some of the insanity scratching at his skull. He reaches back and grabs at Rain's hip, desperate to feel even remotely grounded. It helps a little - until Rain's hand hooks under his knee and pulls, lifting Swiss's dead weight leg and holding him wide open. The cool air against his drenched, aching cunt is a shock that has Swiss choking on his inhale.

Then Rain's blunt head bumps against his entrance and Swiss's whole body flinches at the feeling.

"R-Rain, wait, wait, you - oh no -" Swiss's eyes roll back as Rain drags the head though his folds, lighting up every single frayed nerve between his legs. He's never been so over- and under-stimulated at the same time. His mind begs him to get away even as his body screams for release, and at this point he'll do anything to get it.

"Stay still," Rain spits, hooking his chin over Swiss's shoulder. "Stop squirming, it's irritating."

Swiss tries, but he can't help the way every muscle dances beneath his skin. Threaded with tension and anticipation, tighter that the hole Rain was about to fill. He stills himself as best he can. Takes a deep breath. Focuses on the familiar press of Rain's lean torso against his back. It's not perfect stillness, but Rain's pleased growl flows into his ear regardless.

"Good boy."

Rain rocks his hips and sinks into Swiss's hungry cunt in one excruciating slide. Swiss doesn't register his throaty screams until Rain starts kissing his ear, making soft shushing sounds. A tiny crack in his visage of cruelty. He knows perfectly well how far he's pushed today, how much he still expects. He can spare Swiss a moment of kindness in his fragile state. His other arm snakes beneath Swiss's body, holding him close as he bottoms out.

Something in Swiss cracks then, and at long last the tears fall. He's too busy gasping at the intensity of the stretch to sob, simply letting them fall in hot streaks down hotter cheeks. Rain licks one away and huffs out a soft laugh, that little spark of kindness gone in a flash.

"I was wondering how long it would take for you to break," he murmurs, that disaffected tone back in full force despite the way Swiss can feel him twitching deep inside.

Everything hurts in a way he can't describe, deep pressure and searing heat. It's all built up at the apex of his thighs, and if Swiss had two brain cells to spare he'd already be working himself over. But he doesn't, and Rain wouldn't allow it anyway.

It takes him actual minutes to realize that Rain is just...sitting inside him. No movement aside from the pulses, the twitches. Swiss cants his hips but he has no leverage. Rain is as deep as he can go, and seems content to stay put. Swiss feels like he's dying.

"Move," he pleads, so much need forced into the one single word. "Rainy, you gotta -"

"Shh," Rain's free hand gives Swiss's nipple a sharp flick that he can barely even react to. His body doesn't seem to know what's where anymore. "You'll take what I give you. Besides," his hand travels slowly south and Swiss's soft sobs turn to hiccups of anticipation, "I'm giving you exactly what you need."

Rain's finger, callused but gentle, finally skates over the short length of his clit and Swiss yelps, trying to curl in on himself. He's never felt anything so intense, so visceral. Rain repeats the move over an over, sharp shocks of pained pleasure wracking Swiss's body until he's openly weeping, babbling Rain's name like a mantra. At length the rawness fades, the pain melts into all things good and Swiss's babbling turns to pure desperation. Into frail cries of more, more, more, while Rain's single skilled digit teases him.

"Needy whore," he breathes, licking at the shell of Swiss's ear. His hand shifts, Rain taking his stiff clit between two fingers and giving it a slow stroke. Relishing the way the hood slides over the swollen flesh. Swiss clenches so tightly that Rain can't help the groan it pulls from him.

"You're gonna cum for me, just like this," he informs Swiss, keeping a slow, steady pace to his strokes. His hips remain impossibly still, slotted inside Swiss like he belongs there, not offering more than a sense of fullness. The way Rain jerks him is shiver-inducing, but...

"Rain, I - faster, please, or move or - fuck, please, I gotta cum, I need to, for you -"

"Then you will," Rain mutters, "just like this. You cum on my cock or not at all. Understood?"

The pace is glacial and Swiss truly doesn't know if he can. For as good as it feels, for as much as this has all been too much and not enough, the threat of not cumming is enough to drag a fresh wave of overwhelmed tears from Swiss's burning eyes. He brings a shaky hand to rest on Rain's forearm, feeling the way the muscles shift. He says the only words he can find, voice small.

"Yes sir."

Rain's cock throbs so hard Swiss sees stars.

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #swiss ghoul #rain ghoul #rulti #rain/swiss #rain x swiss #mean rain #bottom swiss #transmasc swiss #swussy 4 lyfe #another long one boys lets goooo

[midnight--rainn]

over in no time.

pairing: elliot x sunshine

summary:

"I'm whispering your name like I'm taking a vow, I need you when my heart rate races and pounds. I wish that I was somewhere I was safe and sound."

or

after elliot finally gets to sunshine, they think they're out of the woods. until brachium appears, with a solemn look on his face.

the balance has not been restored.

an: im bored and wanted to start posting fics on here so here you go! you can also find it on a03 under the username @midnight_rainn

"El?" Sunshine calls weakly, still trapped in their own hell that took the form of a car. They were trapped- had been since Blake pulled them into this hellscape. Sunshine was losing hope- very quickly. That was, until, an unexpected guest arrived.

A person, someone Sunshine didn't recognize. When they called Blake's name, however, they realized who they were. The horrified look on his face and theirs said it all. Blake had let Sunshine have a moment of reprieve to speak to the person, his lover, but soon, it turned into a screaming match. The person had tried to help Sunshine, to convince Blake that his actions were wrong, and if he let them go they could just go home together.

But, Blake couldn't. Because he knew what was going to happen, and he needed it to stop. Sunshine wasn't quite sure what had happened- still trapped in the car. They heard the yelling, and the fighting, but then it all stopped. There was a shrill gasp, and then nothing. Then, they heard it. The sobs, ripping through Blake's throat. They didn't have to see them to know what had happened. He killed them, whether accident or not. It was always going to be him. He could never save them from himself.

He sat there and cried for what felt like hours. Until Sunshine heard a noise. It was faint, barely even there, but they knew who it was. El. Their El. He had finally come. He didn't forget them after all.

"El?" They call again, feeling lightheaded from lying practically upside down the entire time. They hear footsteps briskly walking- then running to their location. "Sunshi-" He pauses, looking at Sunshine's state. "Oh god, I'm so sorry." He says over and over while he works to get Sunshine out. If Blake knew of Elliot's appearance, he wasn't doing anything about it. He just sat, his dead lover in his arms, dead to the world. 

When Sunshine finally feels the seatbelt retract they fall into Elliot's arms, he cradles them, runs his fingers through their hair. "I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner. We- we tried to get the department to help but they didn't do anything. I had to-" 

"It's okay, El. You're here now. We're here. We're free." Sunshine looks up at his face with a smile. He gives them a quick kiss on the forehead as he stands, letting Sunshine lean into him for stability. "Okay, I'm gonna take us back into the real world, we should be in my brother's car, he got us out." Elliot tells them, preparing to take them back to their lives. But, as he does, the ground begins to shake violently. He instinctively pulls Sunshine closer, he wasn't going to lose them ever again.

The ground shakes again, a huge crack forming down the middle of the land, heading towards them. They jump back, watching the car Sunshine was trapped in fall into the dark abyss that's appeared in front of them. "Holy shit. What- what's going on?" Sunshine fearfully asks as the couple keeps backing away. Sunshine again looks over at Blake, oblivious to everything that was going on. He was right on the edge of the abyss, about to fall in.

Sunshine fought the urge to call out to him, to tell him to get to safety. But they don't. Earlier today, he would've gladly watched them fall, laughing the entire time. They weren't going to try and "save" him, he obviously didn't want it. 

Then, the abyss begins to fill. At first, they can't tell what- until the familiar feeling returns to them. The one that determined everything for them, their future. They watch as the familiar black liquid begins to rise into the abyss, coming closer and closer to them until it stops, brimming at the top. The water is beginning to seep into the dreamscape, pooling at Elliot's shoes.

"Hello, little one. Elliot." A voice says, and they both immediately know who it is. Sunshine relaxes, knowing that it's just their dear friend, but Elliot tenses next to them. Why was he here? They were free, it didn't make sense. "Brachium. What- what's going on?" Sunshine asks, taking a step closer to him. He stands on the other side of the abyss, a good ten feet away from them. Why was he so far away? 

Brachium had a somber look on his face, different from his usual cadence. He looked- upset. His eyes, though black, looked dull. "I'm sorry. The balance- it is not completed. It is calling, and it needs an answer." 

"What the hell does that mean?" Elliot asks angrily, pulling Sunshine closer to his side. Whatever was happening was not good, for either of them. "When- when I saved you, little one, I disrupted the balance in our two worlds. It's calling. It's your time." Brachium tells them, holding out a hand sadly. No. Not after everything- I just got out. I can't die, not now. Sunshine thinks, tears brimming at their eyes. 

"No." Elliot shouts angrily. "No. They went through all of this bullshit, you're not taking them now." He's terrified, trying hard not to show it. He thought Brachium was their friend- he was supposed to help them, not kill them. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Any of it.

"It needs a life, Elliot. It will not rest until it has one. I- I cannot let you leave until the balance is fulfilled. I am sorry." Brachium looks sadly at the two of them, at how wrong everything has gone. It was all his fault, he was the one who had saved them all those years ago. Maybe if he hadn't- none of this would've happened. "So- I have to die?" Sunshine asks quietly, looking down at the ground.

Elliot shakes his head next to them, pulling them to arms length so he could look them in the eyes. "No. You are not dying. You're not. You can't." "I have to, El. There's no other way. He said we can't go- you can't go. It needs a life." Sunshine reasons, trying to pull away gently. They don't want to leave him- they never did. But if they had to, at least it would be to keep him safe. To keep him alive.

Again, Elliot shakes his head, this time in realization. "No. It needs a life. They didn't say which. Right?" Brachium nods. "So- so Blake. He can- he can jus-" Elliot points over at Blake, but to no avail. He's not there. Neither is his lover. "Where- where did he go?" Elliot asks, confused. 

"He is already with me. He made that choice the second he lost his loved one. But, you're right- it needs a life. Not a specific one. One from inside this scape." Brachium explains, looking over the edge, where Blake presumably fell. Maybe it's peaceful, on the other side. Maybe I'll like it there, Sunshine thinks to themself, stepping forward. "Okay." They say, preparing to step into the water.

Elliot grabs their arm, pulling them back. "No. No, I'm not gonna let you die today. It doesn't have to be you." Sunshine realizes what he means, shaking their head. "No- no. You are not going to die for me, El. I won't let you. I started this, I'm ending it." "No, he started it." Elliot accuses, venom in his voice. "You shouldn't have to suffer- to lose your life because of that." 

"You shouldn't have to either, El." Sunshine says quietly, as he pulls them into his chest, resting his head on top of theirs. "I know. But one of us has to. And it's not going to be you." Elliot cups their face in his hands, tracing their features, knowing he won't see them ever again. "Elliot- please." Their voice breaks, as he leans in for a kiss. Their last, no doubt. 

Sunshine savors it for as long as they can, memorizing every feeling, every little thing about him. They know what they have to do. They're not going to let him take the fall. They stood closer to the river, taking a step back, and then running to the edge, preparing to throw themselves off. Elliot quickly runs after them, shouting something as he grabs them and pulls them back. They fight each other, until Elliot hears a crack under his feet, breaking under the couple's weight. He slips, beginning to fall, but before he does, Sunshine grabs his hand, the only thing stopping him from the end.

"No. NO!" Sunshine yells, desperately trying to drag him back up to solid ground. Elliot already has tears brimming at his eyes, a somber smile on his face. "Please, El. I c- I can't do this alone. I need you. I love you." They tell him, both of their hands now clutching Elliot's. They know he's too heavy, that they won't be able to pull him over- but they try. "I know. And it's okay. I'll be okay, you'll be okay. I love you, my Sunshine." Sunshine shakes their head, their grip slipping on Elliot's hand. For a moment, they just look at him. Hanging over death itself, with seemingly no fear.

They realize then that it's because he's doing it for them. He would do anything for them. That was the best and worst thing they'd ever heard. "I love you." Elliot repeats, letting go of Sunshine's hands. He falls, landing in the river without a splash. They wait for him to come back up, but he doesn't. It's silent again. They couldn't scream, they couldn't jump in after him, they just watched. 

The river went on. Whether Elliot was alive or not.

#redactedverse #redacted audios #redacted #redactedasmr #redactedverse fanfic #fanfic #redactedaudioelliott #elliottsunshine #redactedelliott

[pinkykats-place]

BKDK Mermaid AU Mer Bakugo x Human Deku Ⅱ

AO3 NSFW Recommendations

Disclaimers!

None of the stories linked below are mine.

All contain mature content. Read tags.

Art work is not mine.

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!

A Salty Distraction by Viridian_Sunset

Summary: Deku has a shitty day at work and finds comfort in his mermaid friend.

{One Shot}

Rated - Explicit

One Fish, Two Fish, Half Fish, Marine Biologist by RandomFandoms65000

Summary: Izuku was ten years old when he met Katsuki aka a merman that the aquarium called Dynamight. As Izuku aged the merman never left the back of his mind it was one of the reason why he decided to become a marine biologist. He not only wanted to because of his love for salt and fresh water creatures, but to study Katsuki's species. Merfolk were rare and well the more they talked the more Izuku fell in love with the merman. Maybe he had always loved him.

Complete | 20 Chapters

Rated - Mature

Specks of Gold Against the Ocean's Waves by Serah_chan

Summary: While enjoying the light of the full moon, Katsuki Bakugou, an orange tailed merman, crosses paths with a handsome surfer with freckle littered cheeks. While he's not supposed to interact with the human, there's something about them that draws the merman to get close and ignore all boundaries.

“Huh, he’s kinda good looking for a human.” Katsuki muses, feeling the annoying itch of curiosity push him towards getting a better look. He wonders if he can observe him from down below as he takes on the waves, catch glimpses of him as he falls back to the water. Human eyes weren’t exactly the best anyway, so he shouldn’t have to worry about being seen... right?

Complete | 19 Chapters 

Rated - Mature

I’ve Got You, Stupid Human by GreenEyesSublime

Summary: The mysterious man swam the last few feet to the rock. Putting his hands up on the edge, he hauled himself out of the water with a flourish. Izuku watched in awe as first a toned, muscled chest emerged from the water and then a tight pack of abs followed by a dangerously sharp v-cut pointing downwards towards a...tail?!

— — —

Or, human!Izuku has been cleaning the beach for weeks and merman!Katsuki is tired of just watching. 

{One Shot}

Rated - Explicit

A Salty First Kiss by DarkMachi, Iwacakes

Summary: Izuku Midoriya's family beach trip went awry when an attempted act of heroism lets to an unexpected first.

Jumpcut to twelve years later: Izuku was struggling to stay afloat when his stepfather threw him a chance. What was meant to be a reprieve turned into something else entirely when he finds someone washed onto the beach. A memory he should have buried long ago, a kiss he could never forget, and a debt he could now repay.

Or.

What do you do when you have an angry Merman in your bathtub that speaks a different language?

Or.

What do you do when a stoopid hooman rescues you and then proceeds to start courting with you?

Complete | 101 CH | Contains Smut

Wavelength by gardengalaxy

Summary: Izuku practices surfing away from prying eyes, knowing he will have lots of attention on competition day. But what if he's already caught someone's interest?

One Shot | Trans Deku 

Rated - Explicit

A Breathless Song by chibicharlie95

Summary: Izuku loves the sea, so much so that he can never seem to part with it... But will he become a part of it? A siren's song in the middle of a storm may help him to find the answer.

One Shot | NSFW

what the water gave me by twinstarsies

Summary: "It's like I'm challenging fate," he says to a hermit crab he finds tucked into a crevice in the rock. "I'm daring it to knock me into the water just to show me who's boss. At this rate, it's probably going to win." 

"Something's gonna knock you into the water, alright, but it won't be anything as nebulous as fate," a voice says, tone wholly unamused. 

Izuku startles so hard that he forgets to use his quirk to catch himself as he slips from his perch on the rock into the ocean. 

— — —

Izuku goes on a forced vacation and meets the love of his life.

Complete | 2 Chapters

Contains Smut | Trans Midoriya

Call of the Siren by Gemsom

Summary: Izuku always imagined that sirens sang their victims into the water, and that their helpless victims could do nothing to resist. He almost wished that was the case.

Every time his captain’s ship crossed the narrow sea, Katsuki came to see him. The siren's friendship seemed so genuine, but Izuku was smart enough to know that the creature was sweet talking him to his death. Katsuki never denied it either - asking over and over for Izuku to offer his life.

Of course, Izuku had no way of knowing that the siren planed to give him a new one in return.

Incomplete | 9/18 Chapters | NSFW

Last Updated Jan. 2023

#bakudeku #mer au #mermaid bakugo x human deku #mer Baku x human Deku #ao3 fic recs #bkdk mer au #mermen au #fluff and smut #bakudeku merpeople #merman bakugo x human midoriya #archive of our own bakudeku #archive of our own fics #no quirks bkdk au #alternate universe #mer midoriya x pirate bakugou #merfolk au #pirate midoriya x mer bakugo #bakugou x midoriya #ao3 bkdk #bakudeku mermaid au #ao3 bakudeku smut #ao3 bakudeku sfw #little mermaid au #sailor deku x mermaid bakugo #mershark bakugo #siren au #siren bakugo x human midoriya #bakudeku fic rec #mermaid au #mermay

[disrupt0r]

I've tried many things to manage my sadness.

The longer it goes on, the more I worry, not only about sinking in these waves of self hatred that seem to take longer and longer to come up from, with shorter and shorter periods of respite

but also that eventually my coping methods will change, that I'll be the kind of person who lets this poison me in a different way, who becomes bitter and vindictive and mistreats other people.

I think it started when I stopped writing as much, sharing my thoughts and feelings

I never really thought about it this way because I always felt I was a more open person than most

But maybe I've been more private about sadness than I realized. Maybe I share it and hide it, with a joke or a laugh, conversational side doors that allow people to pretend, myself included

I share less and less of myself now, particularly on the internet and for most people that would probably be a good thing

For me, I find it difficult to share any other way. My relationships with my family are too close, too personal, any time I want to say anything real, I fall mute. It's too painful to be so poorly understood.

My friendships on the other hand sometimes don't feel close enough; of course I don't mean it quite like that, just somehow it feels like too much, too heavy for others, too much burden

And so in the worst times I feel horribly isolated, from my own friends, from my own family

I guess this why people have therapists, but I've tried it, sometimes it's helped a little, most of the time it's been incredibly difficult to find the right person and hard to get any kind of lasting impact out of it

And now I'm going back to grad school with even fewer resources to try, I don't know

I guess the only thing that saves me is that it still comes in waves, and the nature of a wave is always that the peak passes

But how much of my life can I live like a castaway, floating with nothing but a life preserver between enormous columns of water

It feels like too much to commit to for too long, I don't think I'm cut out for living, or at least not like this.

Sharing it helped once, yelling into the void, like this, I don't know why I always needed some kind of audience, maybe to know I wasn't just talking to myself, even if it were in as cowardly a way as this.

My old blog used to have the old heading "keep on keeping on", and I think it was really because I expected to get to stop at some point, to have some kind of reprieve.

Now it feels like the reprieve never came, will never come.

Sharing it helped once, I don't know why, maybe because it was some kind of relief or release, to write it and see it there and have a good cry and wake up to try again the next day

I think when I'm without any place or way to release it, it's worst of all, and I don't want to find out where that road leads,

where this one does.

At least that's a good thing

Still, there's a flicker of something inside that turns back, runs away, from this dark thing,

Like peering at the edge of a deep, deep well

Still there's a piece that has the good sense to know to be scared, to run away, not to tip over and down

Something here still turns to face toward light

Something here still turns to face toward life.

#this actually did make me feel better sadblogs ftw

[salty-geralty]

WITCHER MEME SPAM GO!

#I haven't done one of these in a really long time #soooooo #my bad??? #these are dumb #but I was inspired #things at work have been extremely busy this entire summer #but I'm just starting to feel the edge of reprieve now that fall is on the way #so for the most part my tumblring has been to creep around on here pulling together a monstrous Halloween spam for October #but I've been wanting to get out some memes for a bit lately #and here they are! #I've got only a few witcher memes coming up after these probably and then I'm going to move in on some more rdr2 memes #but who knows when I'll get to those as well #we'll seeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!! #xo #j drabbles

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

OFF WITH YOUR HEAD

PART 2 OF HEADS WILL ROLL

SYNOPSIS: Whenever school is in session, Eren will just keep finding new places to corner you.

PAIRING: BULLY! EREN x FEM! READER

DEDICATED TO: you guys, always you guys.

WARNINGS: unedited, slight dubcon, groping, degradation, bullying,

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

Gooooood Morning Paradis Birds! Remember to give a big round of applause to the football team for clutching the victory against reigning champion Marley High! We stay undefeated thanks to our excellent and hardworking team. Special shoutout to Captain Eren Yeager for guiding the team to another flawless victory-

You're half-heartedly paying attention to class, sleepily listening to the school announcements over the speaker until the mention of his name douses you like a shock of ice-cold water.

You can't catch the rest of the announcement because your class erupts into cheer, enthusiastically clapping their hands for the boy of the hour.

The only one not joining is you.

Eren's smile is brighter than 100 kilowatts. In the back of your mind, you wonder where he learned to smile like that. When his emotions became so practiced.

Mr.Berner tries to calm the kids down, especially Sasha who bangs on her desks and howls, creating even more hype and ruckus. The class, now in a chattier mode, excitedly breaks into little conversations.

"Man, thank god. That school is so pretentious, I'm glad we finally have something over them."

"Jeez, I know our team was good, but it's this good-?"

"-Bro, year of XXXX is stacked as fuck. It's literally never been this stacked before. We have a whole team of prodigies, it's insane-especially Eren. "

"Yepp. My dad went to Paradis too and he said shit like this never happened during his time. The academic comps were one thing, but these footballs wins? We're being put on the fucking map."

The announcements are still going on, but it's hard to hear over the noise. You're only able to catch the tail end, a useless tidbit about the word of the day.

pre·mo·ni·tion a strong feeling that something is about to happen, especially something unpleasant. Here is an example: "She had a premonition of imminent disaster" Have a good day folks, hope it's free of any premonitions!

Overhearing the unceasing praise of the boy who pinched your thighs until they bruise blue and purple was a little painful-but you were used to it. After all, he's putting Paradis on the map. Whatever the fuck that means.

While you didn't love sharing this class with him, he was seated far across the room and surrounded by a gaggle of friends. You might as well have been invisible, the way he did not acknowledge you. Maybe you should treat it as a small mercy.

Unwittingly, your eyelids grow heavy. You're sitting in the back of the class, no one would notice if you took a little nap right? Assured by the fact no one will notice, you lower your head into your folded arms and let your thoughts float.

You dream of vaguely nothing but shadows of smiles, tufts of dark hair, and the smell of the wind at sea until a noise confined to the shape of your name breaks the harmony.

"[y/n?]"

"[y/n?]"

You startle awake with pairs of eyes piercing their gazes at you. Swallowing thickly, you apologize to Mr.Berner who looks worried. He's a good teacher, and one of your favorites.

"I'm sorry Mr.Berner. I had a migraine so I laid my head down." You lie smoothly, with more grace than you knew you were capable of. Course, you could have just said you were taking an unprompted nap, but that would disappoint your lovely teacher.

He sighs, "Guess that can't be helped then. Go to the nurse ok?"

Bingo. The nurse was an understanding lady, she'd let you sleep the rest of the period off. You nod, and start to gather your materials, relieved the class' attention on you was beginning to dwindle.

"Wait, Mr.Berner, let me take her. What if she gets disoriented and falls in the hall?"

Fuuuuck. You should have known. You should have expected this because attached to the request dripping with faux concern was none other than the precious jewel of the kingdom. Eren's intrusion makes your peers perk up again at the scene unfolding in front of them.

You smile, lips tightly pressed, "I'll be fine. I don't want to distract anyone from the lesson and it's a short walk-

"It's still potentially dangerous.", Your teacher interrupts, pinching the bridge of the nose, "And while I'm completely surprised by Eren's sudden streak of altruism, he's right. Something could happen. He'll take you there safely."

A very convenient streak of altruism, all right. You think it over in your head, yeah the nurses' office is right down the hall, and once you're there, he'll leave. Sure, he'll taunt you but you can handle a few minutes worth of cruelty.

It's awkward getting up, and walking in front of the class while Eren props the door open like a gentleman. You know what a sharp contrast it must look like, you and him, you cowering into yourself, not meeting any eyes while he stands tall and confident.

"Do you have everything?" His tone is one of reassurance, and for the barest of the moments, feels too familiar. You know he's not being genuine right now, and for the first time, you question if he was genuine back then.

"You can hold onto my arm if you're too dizzy to walk." He says as you guys slip out of the classroom, purposefully a little too loudly. You hear coos from girls and a stray "She's so lucky!"

He must have heard it too, because he lowers his head to whisper into your ear, "Yeah, very lucky, aren't you?" Wisps of dark hair tickle your cheeks. You see the glint of tiny silver hoops and wonder when he had gotten his ears pierced. The illusion breaks and the performative charming prince's reassuring smile is replaced by a sneer.

"Didn't know you could lie like that, by the way. Some good girl you are if you're trying to ditch class like this." Fingers dig deep into your waist as he drags you along the empty hallway that seems to stretch on for miles.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, "How did you know I was lying?"

Viridian eyes narrow, "I've seen you get migraines before." There's a knock on your heart. As if realizing he was talking about something far away ago, a vindictive edge laces into words pouring out of his mouth, "I bet you wanted this to happen, didn't you? Wanted to get us all alone."

He's trying to get a rise out of you, that much is obvious. So you ignore him to the best of your ability.

...which quickly proved to be futile, as you suddenly find your arm pinned to your back, and your front facing the nearest walls.

"I asked you a fucking question bitch." He's practically growling, "Fucking answer me."

If there was a world record for the shortest temper, best believe Eren Yeager will have collected that accolade too. He's getting too worked up, and you could definitely feel his harness poking the back on your ass, as he grinds into you.

You manage to crane your neck, wanting to have your face shoved into the wall, and then venomously spit out, "You're not looking for answers. You just want me to repeat whatever you think is true."

This position brings back flashbacks to the library when he caged you in against the bookshelves, and like then, he spins you around to face him quite abruptly.

His smile is full of sharp teeth, "No. I know I'm right."

You don't respond. He moves in closer, his breath fanning on your earlobes. Your body can't help but let an involuntary shudder, and you close your eyes, not wanting to see his pleased grin or the way the fluorescent light makes his hoops gleam like silver bullets.

One calloused finger flicks your nipple, "Do you want to know why I'm right?"

At your lack of response, the dark-haired boy rolls your nipple in between his fingers before pinching it painfully, eliciting a small whimper out of your fuckable lips. "N-no", you answer finally. You're wearing your thinnest bra because of the seasonal heat, and you can't help but regret that decision right now. The fact he's only paying attention to one of your nipples is driving you insane. Not that you want it, but you're so fucking sensitive right now. You struggle in his hold, causing him to hold you tighter, and by now his nails were probably embedded into your skin.

He chuckles at your honesty, rewarding you with a thick stripe of his tongue over the collared shirt of your uniform making you gasp. Did he just-, over your shirt too-, you look down and see a very visible wet spot.

Taking advantage of your distracted state, a eager hand snakes under your skirt until it settles in the middle of your panties. He licks your earlobe before speaking, his voice like ice under your heels.

"You were so fucking wet that day in the library while saying you hated me the entire time," he pauses as his fingers scissor you through your panties, as if to drive the message home, "About as wet as you are right now."

There's a wet spot there too, also caused by him. You crush your eyes shut, "Eren...please just take me to the nurse." You're not even struggling anymore, holding onto him out of your own accord, worried that if you don't hold onto anything-you'd fall on your knees.

The very headache you lied about having seemed not so non-existent after all.

Eren hooks his arms under the plush of your thighs, "Yeah. Of course, that's what I came to do, right?"

*

You had hoped you'd be granted a reprieve in the nurses' office but you'd forgotten that luck was never really in your favor. Because while you guys had entered the squeaky-clean office, the nurse was nowhere in sight.

Instead, a note sat on her desk in unassuming frilly cursive that Eren read with glee.

Sorry students! Minor emergency to take care of, and I'll be back by the middle of the next period. If you're badly hurt, see Mr.Ackerman in room 203. If not, just sit tight! Feel free to take up the beds.

Thank you,

Ms.Ral

Eren had turned to you with shining green eyes, "Since no one's here, I guess I'll have to keep you company. Don't want you to hurt yourself."

There was something claustrophobic about how Eren stood in front of the door as if to signify to get out of here, you had to get through him.

"Maybe I can get Mr.Ackerman..."

Eren's sudden bout of laughter makes you wince and retreat inside of yourself, "For what? A fake headache? You really wanna inconvenience him like that? Mr.Ackerman?"

You take slow steps backward until the back of your knees hit the school bed, making you stumble as you clumsily take a seat. Eren's been marching forward with every retreating step you took, and it's no surprise when he pushes you down the bed, strong hands on the side of your head, while his muscular legs force your thighs apart so he can settle himself in between.

"We have some time to kill, you know." Strands of dark hair fall into his eyes, and without thinking, you reach upwards to brush them aside.

He grips your wrist before you make it that far, nearly gritting out a "What are you doing?"

You just stare, not really knowing why that was your impulse either. Finally, you mouth out, "I want you to leave Eren."

The grip on your wrist is tighter than ever, and you very well know that you're going to have new finger-shaped bruises before the old ones even finish healing.

"And I want to stay." He punctuates each word slowly, and all you can think is how being pinned to a bed is much less painful than having the hard surface of wood digging onto your back.

You're fully aware of the heat in your core, and having Eren on top of you doesn't make this it any easier because fuck, he is attractive. Maddeningly so. And maybe you want him to go away so bad because you're afraid that if his fingers are caught inside of you, you'll thank him for it.

As if reading your mind, he lets go of your wrist (making a mental note of your sluggish movements and slipping resistance) and massages your warm hole from your panties.

"Eren please" You grit out. He merely chuckles, "What are you asking for, whore?"

You could feel tears threatening to fall. This was so embarrassing. Did you want this? Yes, yes. yes, yes. You were so wet right now and had enough of the teasing.

He alternated his kneading from slow and soft to fast and rough, and you couldn't help but let out the prettiest little moans Eren's ever heard. Since you lose all pretenses of resistance, his other hand roughly brushes against your hardened nipples, straining against the fabric of your shirt.

Okay, he decided. He's going to make you beg.

"Beg." It's announced like a command, and while you hear it, you don't really register it because your hips are busy chasing the heat, and it's all too much of an utter disappointment when his long thin fingers leave.

"I said beg slut."

"Eren, please, please. I need you so bad." You're blubbering and you don't care. You just want his pretty fingers to shove aside your panties and rub against your folds. You think back to the library, how wet you were, how the stupid fucking phone call from his coach interrupted him pumping his fingers inside of you. And you didn't know if you were happy or mad he left. But now, all you crave is the blissful wave of pleasure- the very pleasure he's been denying you.

Eren looks down at you, green eyes scrutinizing. After a long while of what it seems to be him just staring, he wipes his fingers on your skirt, brushes back his hair with a wayward hand.

"Looks like I should head back to class. See you later."

Too numb to say anything, you watch him leave with a smirk on his face. When you're sure he's walked away, you curl into yourself and cry.

#attack on titan fanfiction #eren x y/n #tw dubcon #bully eren yeager #bullying #toxic eren #yandere eren x reader #eren x reader

[mypoisonedvine]

Early submission cause I'm going to a club soon, but still will be orbiting here!! Heike and Helmut can't have another kid so they kidnap you and breed you. Mommy Domme/Daddy Dom. Break you and fuck ya type stuff?? Please!!?!?!?!

okay this is fucking wild and I love it omg, turned out pretty dark but I mean I'm not mad about it. I did change the kidnapping to them hiring her to work in their house though!

mommy and daddy kink, dubcon, threeway/voyeurism/fem cuckolding, forced breeding, a slap

"You're gonna be good for Daddy, aren't you?" Heike purred as you did your best not to recoil from Helmut's hand sliding delicately up your leg and into your skirt.

You just nodded, because if you'd learned anything from the last few days of 'working' for the Zemos, it was that being good was your best bet.

It seemed that your uniform was designed from the beginning to give them easier access to your body; that's what anyone would conclude after seeing how simple it was for them to begin groping you under it-- Helmut rubbing your clit as he stared at you with a smirk, Heike reaching into your top and pulling your tits out so she could squeeze and even lick them.

"These are gonna get bigger when you've got my baby in you," Heike informed you with a purr as she sucked briefly at one of your nipples, pulling off with a pop! and grinning up at you. "You're gonna give me a baby, aren't you?"

"Y-yes, ma'am," you agreed nervously, getting a little slap before you corrected yourself. "Yes, Mommy..."

You yelped as you were suddenly flipped over and pushed down onto the table: the dining table, that is. You were in the dining room and any of the housestaff could come in and see you being treated this way. They were ordered to stay on the other side of the house, but they could probably hear you anyways, and the thought made shame burn in your gut.

Your skirt was quickly pulled up by Helmut's thick hands, Heike stroking your hair reassuringly as you whimpered slightly.

You gripped the edge of the table and winced as Helmut shoved himself inside you, feeling his tongue lave at your neck; he seemed to have a bit of an oral fixation, considering you'd felt him kiss and suck and bite at most of your body, and seen him do even more to his beloved wife.

Each grunt from Helmut behind you was like a knife in your ears, sending a chill down your spine in all the wrong ways. He was rather vocal and it made it even harder to ignore what was happening; not that Heike was subtle, either, as she watched you with a smile that almost seemed prideful. "Oh, look how well you're taking Daddy..."

Helmut bit down on your ear and you yelped, feeling his grip on your hips tighten as he started to fuck you harder.

"I think you can make her cry a little harder than that," Heike challenged her husband, and before you could protest, Helmut grinned against your skin and roughly slammed into you-- deeper than you even thought possible, making you choke on a groan.

"Shh," Helmut soothed half-heartedly, "I need to be as deep as possible to make sure you're pregnant when I'm finished. You want to be pregnant, don't you?"

"Yes," you lied, "please, just-- come in me, please..."

"Don't rush him," Heike warned, seeing through your ploy. "Daddy gets to play with you as long as he wants."

"I think Mommy wants to play with you, too," Dadd- uh, Helmut noted with a smug tone as Heike nodded.

Helmut flipped you onto your back without even pulling out of you, holding your legs open wide as Heike began to climb on top of you. "Push Mommy's dress up," she instructed you, "eat my pussy while I get a taste of yours."

You felt her tongue lap at your clit already, just above where her husband was driving his hips forward into you, and you shuddered as you pushed her dress up her thighs where they straddled her face. You'd never done this to her before, but you tried to remember how you'd seen Helmut do it and work from that. She didn't seem to mind, since she moaned deeply, and occasionally over the curve of her ass you could see Helmut looking down and watching both of you with half-lidded eyes and his mouth fallen slack.

"I'm close," Helmut warned after not too much longer of that, and Heike pulled away from you to sit up and pull her husband into a rough, messy kiss-- you knew he must be tasting you on her tongue, and it was the last thing you needed to fall over the edge, an orgasm hitting you suddenly in spite of your efforts to hold it back. Your moans were muffled as Heike sat on your face, but Helmut must've noticed by the way your channel clenched around him; though one hand cradled his wife's face, the other squeezed your thigh before sliding to rub your swollen clit.

You would've screamed if you could-- it was too much, it was so good it burned and stung, but you couldn't make either of them stop and so you just kept sucking on Heike's clit as you waited for Helmut to finish and leave you full and dripping and confused again.

It was clear when he came, from either the way he moaned into his kiss with his wife or from the warmth that filled you deep inside. Heike smiled and sat up slightly, giving you reprieve from her weight on you as you took gasping breaths.

"You did so good," she cooed at you as she got off the table and adjusted herself back to looking presentable, "you can keep Daddy's cock warm for a while, to help make sure it takes, okay?"

She said it like you should thank her for allowing you the privilege of keeping Helmut's softening cock inside you, but you just nodded awkwardly. She moved to stand at her husband's side, giving him another kiss-- this one much more chaste and brief than the last. "We could be pregnant already, right now," she hummed softly to him, and he smiled.

"I know," he agreed, almost wistful. Heike sighed and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Carl will be so happy to have a sibling to play with," she imagined.

"He will," Helmut agreed again before giving you a dark glance, "and we have someone to play with, too."

#saturday night sleepover #helmut zemo x reader #heike zemo x reader #helmut zemo smut #dark!zemo smut

[husbandomail]

Hello~♡ I saw that you were in need of more Fire Emblem asks, and so I'm here to provide.

What would Laurent, Henry and Takumi do if they were stuck indoors with their S/O because it was raining heavily? 👀 I like those three ahaha~

You have fantastic taste in men and I was so happy to get this ask dfghjhgf

Laurent:

Unsurprisingly, he’s got his nose buried in a book or twelve— he actually finds reprieve in the rain, because it means he’s not expected to go anywhere, and he can read uninterrupted. He shrugs his cape off and curls up on one of the sofas in the common room. You know better than to disturb Laurent while he’s got a book in his hands, so you just end up pacing back and forth, fiddling with some of the weapons lined along the wall, opening and closing any desk drawers that are unlocked.

Laurent’s eyes follow you above the edge of the page; he’d love to be absorbed in this tome right now, but your fidgeting makes him nervous. He doesn’t want you knocking something over and getting hurt in the process. You sigh once, twice, three times before Laurent lets out his own exaggerated groan— he lifts up the edge of his cape with an “Alright already,” and you dive into the spot at his side like a wave returning to shore. He’s warm, and his cape is soft, and you nuzzle up so closely to him that he’s sure you can feel his heart slamming against his ribcage.

Although he’d made room for you, Laurent doesn’t intend to change his plans— he turns right back to where he’d left off on the page, only this time he’s reading out loud. You’ve got no idea what the book is talking about, especially because he’s started right in the middle, but you lean your head on his shoulder and read along anyways. His voice is smooth, melding well with the pattern of the rain falling outside, tapping against the walls and the windows— it isn’t long until you’ve been lulled to sleep, Laurent’s free hand running through your hair as he lowers his voice to a whisper.

Henry:

Thank the gods you were rained in together, because Henry absolutely needs supervision. You’re the only two in the barracks at the moment; he hums tunelessly, bouncing on his toes, rocking back and forth as he stares out the window at the endless storm. Something about him is naturally hypnotic; you’re caught up in the flowing movements of his cape when he whirls around to grin at you. “I’m going to catch a lightning strike!”

You have two options at this point— either you tell him no and have to deal with his pouting all evening, or you play along and risk him actually getting hit by lightning. You don’t get to make that choice; Henry’s grabbed you by the hand and dragged you out into the rain. He lets go of you once you’re standing dry under the front awning— he may be odd, but he does want to take care of you— but he continues until he’s standing in the downpour. You wonder how he keeps his movements so light; the rain is visibly soaking into his thick wool clothing, but it doesn’t seem to drag him down in the slightest.

Thankfully, the storm isn’t bad enough that Henry actually gets hit with a bolt; he spins and he twirls, tossing his cloak every which way and simply enjoying his time in the rain. He glances over at you from time to time, shivering underneath the thin awning— his smile is tinged with an air of shyness, and it suddenly dawns on you. He dragged you out here to have fun together. The next time he splashes past you, arms outstretched as he enjoys himself, you grab him by the hand and let Henry pull you along to dance in the rain.

Takumi:

Since your arrival, Takumi has been difficult to get along with. You’d insisted to Jakob that you’d be fine for an hour while he ran to the market— but then a summer storm had rolled in, leaving you trapped in the castle, waiting, with only Takumi and a few servants in this wing. He seems to feel just as awkward as you do, focusing intently on adjusting his bowstrings and counting his arrows. You try to start a few conversations, but they die quickly, because he kills them.

It rains longer than you’d expected, and eventually Takumi sighs heavily, suggesting that you make a dash through the courtyard. Your rooms are in an entirely separate part of the castle— if you don’t break for it now, you might just have to sleep on the floor of the training room. You agree enthusiastically, more because it’s the first time he’s willingly spoken to you than anything else. The both of you pack up carefully, waiting for the rain to lighten ever so slightly— once the next rumble of thunder has passed, Takumi shoves the door open and you both bolt for the living quarters.

You nearly slip once or twice; without thinking about it, Takumi grabs you by the hand to hold you upright, and doesn’t let go until you’ve stumbled into the hallway leading to your rooms. He lets out a strangled noise, and you glance up at him from under your sopping bangs— his hair has come undone, sticking to the side of his face and getting tangled in the intricate details of his clothing. You try to bite back a laugh, but you don’t quite catch it in time— Takumi catches you snickering, and he pouts, his face slowly turning red as he brushes his hair back with his hands. If you offer to help him brush it after all this, he might say yes.

#fire emblem #laurent #henry #takumi #headcanons #imagines #softgreensakura #awakening #fates

[misc-headcanons]

12 Days of XXX-mas Collab Day 4: Popsicle (Hawks/F!Reader)

❄ Link to the Collab Masterpost (warning: dark content in some/most of these fics!)

❄ Word Count: 1947

❄ Contains: Smut, deepthroating

When Hawks entered the apartment he shared with ____, he expected to see her watching videos on her phone while splayed out on the couch. As it turns out, he was somewhat right; she was on the couch, sitting in a kneeling position and concentrating intently. A popsicle was in her mouth, and there were a few scattered wrappers and sugar-stained wooden sticks in one of her hands as she tried to focus on the subject at hand--or rather, in-mouth. 

Hawks raised an eyebrow and smirked,  about to ask what she was doing. When he saw her slowly bobbing her head back and forth, trying her best to take as much of the popsicle in her mouth as possible without gagging, he simply blinked in surprise. Now he really wanted to know what the hell she had been doing while he was gone.

He watched her silently for a few seconds, waiting to see if she'd noticed that she was no longer alone or if she was too lost in thought to hear him open the door. A small trickle of bright-colored juice melted off at her lips and trickled down her chin, and she took this as a cue to move the popsicle even deeper down her throat. Hawks's eyes widened as she managed to swallow the entire thing, with the colored end of it barely peeking out from between her lips. He'd gotten blowjobs from ____ before, and while he always enjoyed himself (as evidenced by her very sore scalp and more than one noise complaint from her neighbors afterwards), she'd never been able to take his entire length like that. Granted, he was a bit more of a mouthful than your average popsicle, but...still, he'd never felt what it was like to fully sheathe himself inside of her throat like that.

____, still oblivious to Hawks's presence, slowly pulled the popsicle out of her mouth and licked the juice that had fallen down her chin before smiling proudly and taking a triumphant chomp out of what was left of her now mostly-melted snack. "Okay," she exhaled, licking her lips and setting the popsicle stick next to the others on the nearby coffee table. "Now I just have to wait for Keigo to get home and I can show off my new skills, hehe." 

Hawks crossed his arms and grinned. Were all these popsicles just for her to practice deepthroating on? "New skill, eh?"

____ automatically jumped in her seat, falling back against the couch when she turned to see Hawks by the front door. "Holy-shit-what-the--Oh!" She felt her face heat up and she gave her boyfriend a sheepish grin, embarrassed that she'd been caught. "Jeez, you're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days, Kei."

Kei shrugged. "I know CPR, so it's no biggie," he replied playfully, walking to kiss her cheek and plop onto the couch next to her. "But you already know how good I am at mouth-to-mouth, right babe?"

____ rolled her eyes and lightly smacked his shoulder, and when Hawks put an arm around her before pulling her in to nuzzle her neck, she giggled. "Awww, someone's extra affectionate today," she teased. He ran his hands up and down her sides while she leaned further against him. "Something get you 'riled up' at work?"

"Not at work," Hawks replied with a smile against her skin as he squeezed one of her breasts and heard her moan softly. "I'm just eager to see what new skill ya wanted to show off for me."

____ smiled and turned around to face him, crawling up to settle in his lap while she played with his soft blond hair and subtly grind against him. "Welllll," she drawled, "I've never really trained my gag reflex before, but I've always wanted to try deepthroating. So I figured I could learn how by trying out popsicles! That way even if I have trouble at first, the ice would make me more numb and still make it easier." She proudly put her hands on her hips. "Am I a genius or what?"

Hawks snorted at just how triumphant she looked and nodded, running his hands over her thighs and squeezing the curve of her ass as he rocked slightly against her. "Damn right you are," he replied playfully. "You're like the Sun Tzu of sucking cock."

____ laughed and bent down to give him one more heated kiss before shimmying off of his lap to kneel in front of him, unzipping his pants. "Let's see how much you'll be joking around once I put my skills to the test," she said smugly, her voice lower and more husky as she licked her lips eagerly. "I bet I can make you cum so hard, your wings'll start shaking from how good I feel around your cock."

Hawks bit his lip, relishing in her dirty talk while she pulled his pants and boxers down his thighs. His cock sprang out once it was freed, and the sight of its head glistening with a bit of precum made ____'s mouth water. She smiled mischievously at him, gently grasping his shaft with one hand and lapping at the head with the tip of her tongue. Hawks groaned softly and ran his hands through her hair; he loved it whenever she teased him like this, giving his cock plenty of attention and praise while intentionally drawing it all out. Sometimes it felt more like torture than simple teasing with how much she kissed and gently caressed his length with her tongue, waiting until the last possible moment to give him some reprieve and finally take his entire length into her mouth.

____'s mouth was still cold from the popsicles, and as she enveloped more and more of Hawks's dick she saw him shiver from the temperature difference. Wanting to warm him up a bit, she built up a bit of saliva on her tongue and hollowed out her cheeks as she swallowed up more and more of his length; the slow fade from a slight chill around her lips to a pleasurable wet warmth made Hawks moan again, and his grip on her hair tightened a bit. 

Her light sighs and whimpers sent soft vibrations through his entire cock, and he moved in his seat on the couch to get a better grip on the back of her head with both hands. "You--ah, fuck--ready to take all of me, baby?" He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and gently rubbed her cheek as she looked up at him eagerly. She let out a muffled "uh-huh" that sent another shiver up Hawks's spine; she was so cute when she was like this, submissive and oh-so eager to please him with that pretty mouth .

He held the back of her head and immediately shoved his cock further and further into her mouth, burying himself all the way inside of her with one swift stroke of his hips. She let out a sharp inhale through her nose as she felt the tip graze the back of her throat, and when she tried to swallow as best as she could, the two of them groaned in unison. 

Her tight, wet walls squeezed and contracted around his cock like a vice, and the moment he felt her try to swallow he lost his sense of control completely. He moved her head back and forth as he thrust into her mouth over and over, sighing with pleasure every time the tip of his cock hit that velvety sweet spot in the back of her throat. Her moans were barely able to come out of her mouth as he shoved her further and further against him until her nose was buried against the scruff of blond hair around his navel. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, not from pain or fear, but a simple instinctive response from her body at this sudden unfamiliar intrusion; even with some training and ice to numb her throat, her gag reflex was still unused to receiving this kind of attention.

Hawks didn't slow down his pace, but he did quickly move his hands to grab hers and place them against his hips. He positioned her head again, and a thin sheen of sweat was starting to form on his forehead and his reddened cheeks. "T-tap me twice if it's too much," he stammered, bucking his hips as he felt the aching feeling of pleasure and pressure growing closer and closer to its peak. "God, you're so good at taking my cock…Using that slutty little mouth to make me feel so fucking good…" 

His balls smacked against ____'s chin over and over as he went faster, and his wings started to flutter a bit behind him as his voice became more and more strained. He felt her fingernails dig into the curve of his ass, but even as she struggled to breathe through her nose and fight back the welled-up tears in her eyes, she stubbornly refused to tap out. He looked down at her with half-lidded eyes and tapped the back of her head with his thumb to get her attention. When she looked up at him with those shining, adoring eyes, the corners of his lips turned up into a satisfied smile as he let out a small birdlike coo from the back of his throat. "You--f-fuck, you're tight...Heh, you like being told how good you are at taking my dick? You want me to cum all the way down your throat, baby?"

____ did her best to try and nod, squeezing his ass once again. He knew just how much she loved being praised during sex, and seeing her try to tell him "yes" as best as she could with his cock ravaging her mouth pushed him over the edge. His wings unfurled and stretched out behind him, stiffening as he came and sheathed himself inside of her as far as possible with a sharp cry. The shallow air from her nose fanned against his public hair, and a thin milky-white stream of semen and saliva trickled from her lips and down one of his balls. ____ felt his thick cum slide down her throat, completely eliminating any trace of the cold from earlier as she was enveloped by a feeling of warmth.

When the ringing in his ears died down, along with the throbbing sensation of his cock inside of her, he sank back against the couch and let his arms fall limply to his sides. His wings slowly relaxed and folded back, and he stared up at the ceiling with a content, lazy smile on his face as he panted. The sound of ____  as she swallowed the last vestiges of his cum and taking gulps of air now that she was able to breathe freely again pulled him back to reality, and he did his best to lean over and help her up onto the couch again. She immediately curled up against him, still breathing heavily as she rested her head in the crook of his neck and placed one of her palms on his chest. The two of them lay there for a minute or so, silently enjoying the hazy comfort that came after a fun-yet-intense bout of sex.

____ was the first to speak up, tilting her head to look up at him. "So…" She smirked and playfully traced shapes into his skin with her fingers. "Should we add popsicles to the grocery list from now on?"

Hawks let out a breathy chuckle and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer against him before kissing her temple. "Definitely."

#bnha #bnha scenario #hawks #takami keigo #ns.fw #female s/o #mine

[voiceless-terror]

Hi ily and I love bothering people with prompts, so I'm requesting "a character who’s so exhausted his hands are trembling, his eyes are dull/unfocused, he’s starting to hallucinate… and his team needs him to stay awake" with Jon and literally anyone at any time (except s5 because it's too emotionally taxing for me to keep up with oop-)

Hello there, Shannon! Here you go! This takes place in Season Two, when all is not great with the Archives team. Hope you like! <3

“And you’re sure this requires all four of us?”

“Yes, Jon,” Elias sighed, his annoyance clear even through the phone. “Believe it or not, I am trying to help you. You’ve managed to alienate almost all of your staff, so perhaps this will do you some good. You seem to enjoy ‘following-up’ these days, unlike in your first months in the position.”

That stung a bit.

It wasn’t his fault someone had died in the Archives, and that someone happened to be his predecessor. It was a natural reaction to feel some paranoia, though he will admit he might have gone a little...overboard, in some of his investigations. Tim certainly thought so. Sasha was her usual cool, aloof self avoiding him as much as possible. Martin was the only one that treated him the same, probably better than he deserved after accusing the man of being a possible murderer. He dragged him out to lunches and hovered in the evenings when Jon stayed late. He was the one who accompanied him to the clinic after his incident with Michael. Jon couldn’t help the ache that went through his chest when he saw Martin still in the lobby, waiting to take him home and fussing over his bandages. 

Walking him to his door.

And now Elias, of all people, was deciding to be more ‘hands-on’ after the intervention. The intervention where even Martin held him at arm's length, though he was still the friendliest face in the room. If this meant keeping his job, he would do it. 

Though he wasn’t so sure he even liked his job anymore. But Jon kept pushing forward. He needed answers. 

Telling his assistants was another story. 

He stood in front of them, knowing he looked a mess. He’d seen himself in the mirror this morning after another failed attempt at rest. His hair was a mess, the dark circles under his eyes were turning a lurid purple. He looked waxy and gaunt and nothing he could do now would fix it. So he kept drinking his tepid black coffee and cheap energy drinks; frankly, they were the only thing keeping him going.

Nevertheless, he didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

“Seriously, Jon?” Tim wasn’t fond of using ‘boss’ anymore, not unless he was feeling particularly vicious. “It would be fine with two of us. Me and Martin can go and take shifts. You look like the living dead.”

“Tim,” Martin admonished, shooting him a look. “He’s right, though. You don’t look well, and I don’t think an all-night stake out is what you need right now. I mean, why are we even following up on this? It’s just some ‘vampire’ sighting that’s not going to pan out. Don’t we have more important things to be focusing on?”

“Elias insisted,” Jon tried for apologetic but must have missed the mark, judging by Tim’s narrowing eyes. “I’m- I wouldn’t make you do this, but I’m afraid-”

“Why does Elias even care about this?” Tim interrupted, slamming his drawer shut dramatically. The sound made Jon flinch- that wasn’t hard to do these days. “Did you even try to get out of it?”

“Of course I did,” Jon bristled. “I know- I know the last thing anyone wants to do is spend time with me. This wasn’t my idea-”

“That’s a bit hard to believe, Jon,” Sasha’s voice was mocking, though it remained light and easy. Sasha was always ready with a barb or a joke, mostly at Jon’s expense. “I’d think you’d enjoy this sort of thing- stalking, investigating. Or is that just with your co-workers?”

Tim snickered. Even Martin had a bit of a smile on his face, though he tried to hide it. Jon felt his face flush red. 

“That’s not,” Jon began a defense but quickly backtracked, knowing it would be futile. “Elias wanted us to go tomorrow night. It’s about thirty minutes away, so if you don’t mind driving, Tim-”

“Anything for you, boss,” Tim muttered. “If you could try sleeping before then, that would be great. I filled my quota on catching you collapsing on the job.” The words were unnecessarily sharp and hurt Jon more than he cared to admit. He remembered a time when Tim was always around to lend him a hand, conscientious and kind. But he’d gone and ruined that now, hadn't he?

“I’ll be fine,” Jon straightened his back, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. Tim snorted and turned back to his desk, Sasha did the same. Martin just stood there, giving Jon an appraising eye. It made him feel like he failed an exam or came up short on an examination.

This should be fun.

_______

Sleep eluded him for all but an hour that night. The face that greeted him in the morning looked even more horrific than the day before; Tim wasn’t far off in his assessment. He said as much as Jon entered the office.

“Christ, this is going to be fun,” Tim rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair as Jon hunched in on himself, defensively clutching his extra-large coffee.

“I did sleep,” he bit out, avoiding the man’s eyes. It was true.

“Sure. Just try taking a fucking nap this afternoon, okay?” The words sounded almost concerned, but Jon knew better. “I’m not listening to you snore in the backseat all night.”

“I’ll try,” Jon grumbled as he exited the room. A sudden sting hit his hand and he hissed; coffee had spilled from the lid of his to-go cup and was now running a scalding stream down his arm. His hand was shaking, a steady and insistent tremor that refused to calm despite his best efforts. 

I’ll sleep this afternoon, he promised himself. Something’s gotta give eventually, right?

_______

Jon was wrong. Just my luck.

After two fruitless hours of tossing and turning, he finally gave up, leaving the office to grab a couple of energy drinks that he could hide in his bag. And now he was loaded in the backseat of Tim’s car, his heartbeat erratic and his chest tight. Martin had provided them all with coffee, though he handed Jon his with some reluctance.

“Are you sure you’re okay-”

“For the last time, yes, Martin!” The words came out harsher than he intended and Martin flinched back, avoiding Jon’s eyes as he got into the passenger seat beside Tim. “Don’t yell, Jon,” Tim commanded as he started the car. “God, you always were a right bastard when you’re sleep-deprived.”

“M’ sorry, Martin,” he mumbled to the ground. It was easier to focus on something stationary- whenever he looked out the window, his vision blurred and nausea churned in his stomach. And that’s why you don’t have energy drinks on an empty stomach. Stupid, stupid.

“It’s fine, Jon.” It didn’t feel fine.

By the time they arrived at the park where the supposed sightings took place, it was already dark. Tim had the radio playing softly in the background as he and Martin murmured in the front seats, a low sound Jon couldn’t hear. He wondered if they were talking about him.

Not everything’s about you. He shivered in his seat, drawing his coat tighter around his body. Sasha shot him a glance; she always had the hint of a smile on her lips, cold and calculating. As if Jon’s situation was amusing to her. Maybe it is.

He wished Martin was back here with him. Martin was warm, solid, and steady; Jon craved that, embarrassing as it was. But Martin likely didn’t want to be around him; unsurprising, with how Jon’s behaved.

The steady drone of sound was pleasant, a nice background hum that relaxed him incrementally. The occasional heart palpitations were starting to slow, and Jon felt himself relaxing for the first time in days. It was a sweet, blissful relief- surely a small nap wouldn’t be terrible, just enough to keep him going through the night-

A sharp jab in his side jolted him awake. He shot up with a yelp to find Sasha smirking, her face unreadable. “Don’t sleep on the job, boss.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispered, rubbing at his eyes and wishing for just a short reprieve. But the blurriness was worse now and his heart was back to its erratic rhythm- Sasha’s rude awakening had done its job.

“Maybe try looking out the window,” Tim suggested sarcastically. “We are here to do a job, you know. Not so you can zone out and sleep.”

“R-Right.” Jon didn’t mention that nobody else seemed to be doing the same. Still, he focused on the dim light emanating from the one streetlamp in the park. It was just an empty field at the edge of the woods. It would be hard to miss anything.

This went on for an hour, Sasha continually nudging him awake whenever he started to drift off. She was probably doing him a favor- who knows what horrors lurked in his nightmares, and the last thing he needed was to wake up screaming like a lunatic. He imagined word getting round to Elias that he was falling apart, even more unstable than previously thought. 

And then something moved out of the corner of his eye- a small, dark shadow was standing in the middle of the park, barely visible by the light of the streetlamp. Jon let out a choked gasp as he leaned forward, hitting the back of Tim’s seat.

“L-Look!” he whispered urgently, pointing ahead. “Someone- someone’s there?”

“Where, Jon?” Sasha’s voice beside him was amused, playful. “I don’t see a thing.”

“Right there!” He insisted, and as if on cue the figure began moving forward, edging closer to the light. “It’s moving!” 

“Jon,” Tim started, looking back at him with an inquisitive gaze. His voice was slow and measured. “What are you talking about? There’s nothing there.”

“There is!” He was aware he was begging now, a pathetic plea to just look, it’s right there, can’t you see?

Martin reached a hand to his shoulder, all concern and worry. “Jon, I promise you there’s-”

And that’s when the figure revealed itself, standing clear under the light. It was a woman, tall and sad. Her long hair was pulled back from her face with a headband, and she had round glasses and looked so, so familiar-

Sasha, his mind supplied. That’s not right. Sasha’s right beside him.

Sasha. It was insistent this time. Jon put a shaking hand to the door handle and wrenched it open, practically falling out of the car as the others protested behind him. But he paid them no mind and stumbled forward on weak legs. There were footsteps behind him but it didn’t matter because Sasha’s there Sasha’s there-

And then she was gone.

The park was silent and still, almost serene. And Jon stood under the lamp, his chest heaving and his heart racing until he collapsed in the soft, dewy grass. Sasha was in the car. Sasha wasn’t here. But it doesn’t make sense. He gagged, hands and knees digging into the earth as nothing came up but a small amount of bile and coffee. A hand went to his shoulder but he wrenched it off, a frustrated moan bubbling out of his throat as his eyes filled with tears.

“Sasha was here,” he wailed, no longer caring if he made a scene. “Sasha was here!”

“Jon? Oh fuck, oh God what do we do, something’s wrong-”

“Just pick him up, Martin, get him back in the car!”

Jon was hauled to his feet but his legs were shaky and useless; Martin cursed and scooped him up instead, unbearably gentle. He tugged at Martin’s shirt, desperate for someone to listen. “Sasha,” he hiccupped but Martin just hushed him, squeezing him tighter to his chest. 

“Sasha’s in the car, Jon,” He whispered soothingly as Tim opened the car door. “See? Right there!” Sasha, with her wrong smile and her wrong face and her cold, cold hands-

Jon let out a shriek, thrashing and kicking as Martin tried to place him in the backseat by that thing. “No no no,” he cried and tugged at Martin’s jumper. “I don’t want to I don’t want to-”

“Get in the front, Sash,” Tim commanded, something unreadable in his eyes. “He’s not going to stop freaking out until you do. Martin can sit in the back.”

“So fussy,” she said mildly as she opened the door and did as Tim said. “Is he going to be okay?”

Jon could barely follow the conversation as Martin awkwardly crawled into the backseat and tried to maneuver him into his seatbelt. But Jon couldn’t let go because Martin was real and there and the only thing holding him together at the moment. 

“Just drive,” Martin’s voice was hard and unlike him, but he squeezed Jon tighter to his chest and that was all he needed to finally give into the darkness at the edge of his vision.

_____

When he next woke he was tucked into a bed- his own, strangely. Light filtered gently into the room and Jon felt like he’d been run over by a truck several times over; every part of him aching and groaning as he attempted to sit up. 

“Jon?”

Martin stood in the doorway, the picture of anxiety and worry. “God, I thought you’d never wake!” He hurried over to the side of the bed and placed a hand to his forehead that Jon leaned into. “You don’t feel warm. You’ve been asleep for almost sixteen hours. Are you okay?”

“Define ‘okay,’” Jon croaked, leaning back into the pillows. Sixteen hours but he still felt like hammered shit. “What- what happened? Why am I here?”

“You don’t remember?” Martin’s voice somehow managed to sound more worried. “God, you were- you were really out of it, Jon. Ranting about Sasha- you wouldn’t get near her. I thought we should take you to the hospital but Tim insisted you wouldn’t like that.” Tim was always the one who knew him best. “He had a key so we dropped you off, but I thought someone should stay behind- I mean, is that okay? I don’t want to overstep or anything, but you were really bad and I couldn’t-”

“It’s fine, Martin,” Jon cut him off gently. It was touching, in a way, that Martin would want to look out for him after the fit he apparently threw. “I, uh- thank you, I guess.”

“Really, it’s no problem,” Martin said, leaning back on his heels and fiddling with his hands. “I-I didn’t want to leave you alone, and I didn’t think you’d want to wake up to Tim or Sasha-”

“God,” Jon groaned and slumped over in bed, shame coursing through his veins. ‘“I’ll have to apologize to her tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Martin agreed, though not unkindly. “But I think she’ll understand. You were exhausted, it’s not like you meant it.” I suppose that’s true, he thought. Just my paranoia out of control.

“I’ll make us some tea. You stay in bed, okay?” 

“A-Alright.” Martin turned to leave the room but a thought logged itself in Jon’s brain and he reached a hand out to stop him. “Did you stop anywhere beforehand?” he asked. “Like the institute, o-or maybe Tim’s place?”

“No,” Martin replied, a puzzled look on his face. “Why?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jon closed his eyes and leaned back into the pillows, feeling utterly drained. “It’s nothing.”

Martin exited the room and Jon tried not to think about the key he gave Tim ages ago, back when they visited each other with some regularity. 

And the idea that it was still on his keychain, waiting to be used.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27457939

#prompts #my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #tim stoker #not!sasha #martin blackwood #jonmartin #angst #sickfic #whump #postapocalyptic-cryptic

[shewhowillnotbenamed1]

ProRogue

@ravenfan1242​ - Same Prompt List!  I did combine these two, but I do have Wally Raven in the works. This is a little different. I took some liberties with the NightRae of it all… (Please don’t kill me.) I do hope you like it!

——————

Bubbles ascended to the surface. One by one. In a slow succession…

Pale lips parted, effervescing, as water pressure roiled in her eardrums.

Purple hair pendulous all around her.

As if she was frozen.

Suspended.

In this moment. Though time was not.

The seconds were steadily, surely, running out. And she was running out - of air.

She wasn’t unaware of that fact.

But she made no effort to leave. Or to free herself from confinement - a watery prison.

Still she stayed. And still, she stayed.

Floating.

In the tub… In a pool… In the ocean…

It didn’t matter. She was still underwater.

Drowning.

As she went deeper down, unconscious thoughts floated up.

I think…

I forgot how to breathe…

…but if I did, he would probably just…

Do it for me…

Her eyelids scrunched as she struggled now. The increasing pressure of the watery depths kept them shut. To keep her blind.

“No…”

But it was futile.

At last they opened, pupils constricting… to keep out the sight - the painful reality.

Raven wheezed as she woke. Fighting. Gasping. Pushing off his large arms, and unbinding them from her body. Shoving, until at last, she was freed. Her legs dangled off the side of the bed as she sat up. Her back to him, she panted, wiping sweat off her clammy face.

“Raven…?” Dick rasped, turning over in the sheets to face her. She moved her head a fraction to see his eyes were shut. “You… ‘kay?” He mumbled as he strained to open his eyes. His large hand reached out and it began to toil. Searching the sheets for her.

She watched his fingers. Cautiously edging herself in the opposite direction. She just had to get away. A moment to herself. Just a minute. To breathe. To think.

Couldn’t she just be for a minute?

It hadn’t yet given up its pursuit. Raven continued to stare at his arm’s attempt to bring her in. “Yes… Dick.” The empath insisted with a brisk edge to her voice. She tried to soothe him back to sleep by assuring him. He relaxed the second she placed a hand on top of his. “I’m fine - I just… need some air.”

“Alright, hurry back.” He said sleepily. Blissful dreams. Delirious happiness. Completely unaware. Was Dick Grayson.

He had no clue. Not even an inkling - of her feelings when she woke up in the middle of the night. Her feelings in the dark. He certainly didn’t know anything about them.

Her… Hesitation.

Her… Suffocation.

Her… Languishment.

He was blind to it all.

Raven sighed, drawing up her shoulders with the vastness of the exhale. The sheer exhaustion of it all. She slunk away, barefoot to kitchen.

Where a visitor stood. And it was a welcome distraction.

A reprieve.

The darkened outline turned to face her. A smile etching onto those lips. “Let's talk. You look like you need it.”

A shaky nod and her anxious expression washed away.

And that was how Raven found herself in the kitchen sitting before him. At an ungodly hour. The red dome-shaped mask propped next to his cup of tea.

“Between then and here.” She started to say. “I think I forgot something. Something important. I just feel…” Transfixed by the pattern of tiles on the ground, as her pupils traced the black ones in a diagonal line. Much like a bishop would move. Chess. How she missed chess. Gods, when was the last time she even took out her chessboard? Or did something just for her?

She knew how she felt.

She knew exactly how she felt. But, she couldn’t say it. It was not the kind of thing one could vocalize. Not in mixed company. Not to a best friend or a confidant. Not to a lover or a partner. Not even to one’s self. Not. Ever.

Raven swallowed.

She felt…

That were pieces - and these little bits of her, and they were just slipping away... Into the nullity. Like wisps of smoke from incense sticks. Or… Raven’s lips parted, her vision blurring and unfocusing in front of her now.

Steam from a cup of tea. Like the one she currently had clutched tightly in front of her. She was losing herself. There was no Raven anymore. Now, it was always Raven and. Raven and Nightwing. Raven and Nightwing are out on patrol. Raven and Nightwing are in Titans Tower… Rachel and Dick. Rachel and Dick are out on a date. Rachel and Dick are in their room…

Raven and Nightwing. Rachel and Dick.

It was too much. Too much.

“You just feel…?” Jason urged her, gesturing with his cup.

She was impinging upon a topic that was flowing straight into dangerous waters. And she knew it. And he knew it. “I’m sorry, it’s late. I don’t even know what you’re doing here… Don’t know what I’m doing here. Or what I'm saying.”

The reply he gave, “Yes, you do.” Was simple. But also complex. She watched him as he spoke. Wondering if it really was that simple. “It doesn’t matter what I’m doing here… I’m glad I came, and that I could catch you.” Curious… Auspicious. Suspicious. Though, one always had to be careful around Jason Todd. “Besides after you guys move out of here, I won’t be seeing much of either of you, will I?”

“I suppose…” Raven couldn’t bring herself to offer much more than that. “I suppose that’s true.” He was right. After they moved out. After they left. It would just be her and him.

Alone.

“You guys are still moving out, right?” His aquamarine lighthouse was searching for her. Probing.

She bit back. “You sure are asking a lot of questions.” Her hand curled to clench the porcelain handle. “One would actually think you care.”

Jason blinked as his face settled into a knowing smile. “That’s because I do.” He murmured. “I’m catching up with an old friend. We’re friends.”

“That’s not exactly what I would call us.”

“Fine, Raven.” He said calmly. “I’ll just skip the part where I ask you to confirm the existence of said friendship…” His lips were a puckering pink, as he sipped his tea. “But, friends care about each other - I do want to know if you guys are okay.”

“Of course we are.” Raven replied flatly. Doing her best not to give anything else away. Though it was redundant now. “And yes, we are moving out.”

“Oh good.” The sound of his voice was distorted by the white mug raised to his lips.

“Yes, it’s very good.” Raven hadn’t meant for it to sound so argumentative. It just slipped out that way.

And she was tired.

“Good.” He repeated, giving her nothing. In his tone. In his words. In his expression.

She tried to relax. “Dick’s great.” Raven nodded. “And I’m - good. Everything is great.”

“Right. Great.” He slid his middle finger down the side of the mug.

“Great.” She watched her face distorting the surface of the sleepy-time tea, as she leaned over and blew on her cup.

“Then, you probably should get back to that.” Jason said nonchalantly. Even shrugging.

“Probably.” She echoed. Raven was wondering why she was even continuing to pursue this, when it was clear he didn’t want to talk.

He sneered for the briefest second. And licked his lips, before he muttered. “And you probably shouldn’t be talking to his brother this late - wearing that.” He pointed to the short negligee of mulberry silk and midnight lace. She blanched, as if she hadn’t realized. The robe, too had slid open. Raven had worn it earlier. Dick had commented on it. Moments afterward, she forgot she was wearing it. Raven slid up the right strap, but made no moves to cover herself further. “You always dress up for him?”

Scarlet climbed up her neck to her cheeks. “Not sure that’s any of your business.” She argued. “Besides, I was stifling - sweating… I was sweating in there.” She found herself stammering and blinking a few more times than necessary. “It was hot in the room - our room. It was hot. And I’ve cooled off now… Good night, Jason.” She decided at that moment - regardless of his implications or suggestions - to take her leave. The chair screeched abruptly against the floor. And she stumbled, as she pulled herself to her feet.

Raven shook her head as she marched down the darkened hallway. Slowing her pace the second the doors closed behind her. Why would she try to talk to him? To get advice from Jason? He just seemed like he wanted to judge her. She hadn’t seen him since before the announcement. So she knew, he hadn’t heard. She meant to tell him about it tonight, but after that she hardly saw the point.

He had just listened to her, yes. But when he talked, it was almost as though he was bating her. Wanting her to reveal something, besides her lingerie. The short nightdress, that he had been so unaffected by, yet he still felt the need to comment about it. What was with that? She gazed absentmindedly out the bay window she happened upon, after walking straight past the room where Dick slept. For the second time.

Suddenly a warm arm reached out from the dimly lighted hallway and brushed her shoulder. “Raven -” She whipped around quickly, the sheer sleeve falling down her arm.

“Jason, geez!” Raven exclaimed. Managing to maintain her usual low voice after she took a breath. “What are you doing? You can’t keep sneaking up on people.”

“Hi. Pot. Kettle. Need I say more?” Jason drawled. “Since when can anyone sneak up on you?”

“Since… I’m a mess…” Her tone was exasperated. “Or hadn’t you heard?”

Thick digits descended through the thick hair around his face. “Raven, I wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to be a jerk.” Jason paused. His tall, muscular form sagged under the gravity of what he said to her next. “Things are hard, even when you get what you want, huh, Raven?”

What she wanted?

“What I want?” Her voice sounded empty. Directionless. Her head tilted as she peered back at Jason, as though asking for guidance.

“Mr. Perfect?” Jason elaborated, eyebrows raised to punctuate. Clearly, he expected her to agree.

Which she did. “Dick’s certainly perfect…”

“Even with the stick up that ‘perfect’ ass.” The dark-haired man added for good measure.

Raven barely acknowledged the jab. “Someone perfect who adores you…” She whispered. Walking up to the window. “Who would do anything and everything for you. Who wouldn’t want that?” She had that, along with sleep deprivation night after night. The tossing and turning. After all this time, it was getting to her. She wasn’t even sure what she was saying. Who she was talking to. Was she was even talking to Jason at this point? She didn't think…she was. Was she?

She saw his image slid in behind hers in the glass suddenly. The deep voice spoke. “Who wouldn’t want someone who’s perfect? ”

“Perfect…” The purple hair fell behind her shoulders, as she lifted her head. Drawing herself to full height. Regardless, she was still dwarfed by him, overtaken. They watched each other. For several long seconds. There was nothing but the sound of the air filtering itself through vents above them. Without another word. Her arms were ascending, up to his face to guide him right to her mouth. The rough hands laying over hers. The pale cheeks tilting to the side as her eyelids drew to close.

But then, they opened. He reeled her back holding her, steadfast, as their lips hovered just outside the range of the impending kiss.

A million wordless conversations passing between them. She smoothed over the bristles of his stubble, as he clutched her.

The distance between them disappeared right into his mesmerizing mouth. His softness was satisfying. The taste of lemongrass in the lukewarm tea on his lips was delicious. She groaned low and ardent in her throat, nothing short of desperate to feel the tautness pressed up to her body. As her palms parted the unruly waves of onyx, Raven didn’t stop siphoning the air out of his lungs. Not for a second. She clutched him tighter and tighter, as their tongues tasted. Twisted.

Finally.

It was like she could breathe.

At last, she had air. His air. It was sustaining her.

The push of his lips each time they connected, propelled her. Their lips enfolding. And flattening. Harder and harder. Large hands gripped her curves. Slinging her thigh over his hip. Jason’s hands were right there on her lower back, circling the dimples, as she dragged him further into the darkness with her. The feel of his hardness brushing the skimpy panties that she wore. Raven clawed his biceps. Whispering sanctions, her nose slithering straight down scars. On his neck. His arms.

“You know… I only mentioned the outfit because… I like it.” He murmured hotly. “It's sexy.” She was grateful for the admission.

That he couldn’t resist.

“Jason…” She hissed. His fingers thrust under the sides of the silk top. The pressure and heat of the hands on stomach. Skimming the skin to tease and kneading it to please. Upward they traveled. To cup her chest. Jason’s touch brought her to another place. It was mind-numbing. So much so, that she could ignore any guilt. Almost. She tried to shove down any of her unconscious thoughts. But in the back of her mind, she could remember Dick’s comment from earlier - when he saw her.

“You always look so…” he whispered.

“-gorgeous…”

An echo…? In her head. Of Dick’s words and Jason’s…

“In that color.”

Suddenly, they were the same.

One voice.

“Stop. Stop. No.”

This was wrong.

“Raven, what’s wrong?”

Would everyone stop asking her if she alright tonight? Of course she wasn’t.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” Raven barked out a harsh peel of laughter. “Look at us? The brother and the girlfriend…” She held up a quivering pale hand. “Who are we trying to convince?” The sliver of light glimmered off of a modest band. The ill-fitted silver band slipped around to reveal a decently sized rock.

He paused for a while. Jason’s hands on hips as he shook his head. Even through the dark, she distinctly saw him mouth the word, wow. Over… and over. And over. Lost in his own head. His own thoughts. Pacing…

The ring didn’t fit.

It was too big. He had offered to resize it, many times. But, by then, she had just lost more weight. Dick thought he knew why.

“For the wedding?” Dick asked, looking concerned. His arms caging her in, as he rested on either of her shoulders. He insisted, his voice a whisper, “Raven… you’re already the picture-perfect bride.“ Then, he smiled and kissed her cheek. "Perfect.”

Even if they did get it resized, it would never fit. Not really.

Jason completed one last angry, uneven rotation before he spoke, a bitter edge to his inflection. “I don’t understand… I don’t understand - how this. You… and him.”

“It’s called… a proposal.” Raven explained, through her gritted teeth. Gritted because she was annoyed with her own antics. She was the one who didn’t understand what it meant to be someone’s fiancée. That was clear. “I meant to tell you earlier…”

“No.” Jason argued. “I may not have known - but you did. How does that make it any different from twenty minutes ago?”

Her lips parted, before her retort. “Don’t tell me you want me to feel guilty about this.”

“No, I don’t.” He said quickly. And he took a breath before he began in a low, serious voice. His eyes never leaving her own. “A proposal isn’t a marriage. Engagements break… Even marriages aren’t forever.”

“Don’t. You. dare.”

“I do. And I will.” He was adamant. Jason’s jaw stiffened. “I will always you give tough love, Roth. And you can hate me for it. But I don’t care. I know what you want.”

Her hands shook. And yet she insisted. “You don’t know a thing.”

“I know that you want out.” Raven regarded him through her dark purple glare. “And you want to use me to do it. It’s alright. I’ll say it because you can’t.” Horror struck the sorceress’s pale face. Before she went cold. She advanced, arms folded.

“Are you right, Jason?” She took another step closer. “Or is this some sort of wish fulfillment?” Raven pantomimed a gesture as though she were weaving one of her spells. And not debating her devotion. The aqua gaze flashed dangerously. “You… stealing your big brother’s girl.” Raven spat. Jason’s eyed her through slits. She could sense the aura around him darkening. But Raven didn’t stop. “The one thing you couldn’t steal. Can’t steal. Because - I’m still his… I’m his and that meant nothing.”

His head whipped back and forth as he refuted this. “It did.” He disagreed. And he was livid. “Yes, it did. I wasn’t the only one feeling that.” A thumb jerked to his chest to insist upon this. “There’s something between us.”

“You were.” Raven maintained. “It’s nothing. And it meant nothing to me.”

“Raven,” Jason rasped. “Why are you fighting me? Or this?” He bit his lip to hold in the desperation in his voice. The long legs closed the distance between them. “Please -”

The petite girl held up a hand and pushed his chest to keep him at bay. “Dick is perfect, and he loves me… I should have never done that. That will never happen again.” Her voice was flat and eyes hollow.

His head hung. The ebony tresses masking his face. Then… he was back up. And he was Jason again.

Jason’s shoulders quaked as he emitted a cruel chuckle. “Who exactly are you trying to convince?”

“I love him.” She said simply. Her brow furrowed as she realized what she had to do. “He’s my family. And yours. You should go.”

But, Jason was ready for her. And she was hardly in a position to argue. “I didn’t forget he’s my family. So, that means no matter where you move, or wherever you go, I’ll see you. That’s a promise.”

“I hope you don’t think you’ll be invited over any time soon,” She retorted. It was low and it was pathetic, but it was all she had left to counter.

“I do think.” Jason said with an air superiority that made her crazy.

“Don’t.”

“I do, because I will…” He smiled callously.

“You won’t…” Raven seethed.

“If not, then…” He leaned into her. Angling his face as closely as possible, so she could feel the brush his words on her mouth. “I’ll just see you - at the wedding.” Jason gave her one last look, and then pivoted on his heel.

That word from his lips…

The final word gave way to the water. The prison trapping her. Her throat tight and choked, as she called after his receding figure.

“Wait.” She lunged after him. Gripping his bicep tight. “I… Don’t go - please…” Pulling, forcing him to turn around. To come back to her. Her white fingers slid down his shoulder to his chest. Where she fisted his shirt. “Please, Jason.” And she tugged him firmly to her lips, feeling the tension in his body dissolve. “Jason…” Raven whispered into his ear. “This is the last time -” Smoothing his mouth to Raven’s, he ripped her robe right off. He lifted her by her hips, carrying her only a short distance, before he slid open the first door he could find.

The Evidence Room.

He cleared the desk off with one long sweep of his arm, and placed her down. Pushing her back flat to it, thighs spread. Jason climbed up to surface, kneeling right between her legs. Her arms outstretched wildly, as she reached for his waist. Dark nails, sinking into his skin, she went lower. Down to his waistband, tugging black spandex over his hips. To free him. His face contorted in a way that bordered on cannibalistic, Jason was sinking. Bringing himself down. To meet her. He supported his weight as he leaned over her.

Raising her shirt over her bare breasts, to expose her. Her back arched when Jason’s hand slid over her core. Another tug to slide her panties to the side. A full mouth trailed along her collarbone, as it curled into a smile. He nibbled the flesh, just hard enough to make her moan. But not hard enough to leave a bruise. They did have to be careful, after all.

His aqua eyes lingered on the sanguine shape of an X on the skull mask tacked to the wall.

“Yes… This is the last time.”

Before a loud grunt, as he took the plunge, submerging deeper and deeper into her water.

Deeper and deeper he went…

Raven inhaled sharply. And deeper and deeper she went…

But this time she could finally breathe.

#nightrae #jayrae #dickrae #me #raex #jason todd #raven roth #fanfiction #writing #redrae #teen titans #titans #actually not au #darker than usual #I hope this okay... #I did Dick very dirty #Obviously I still love Dick #robrae #Red Hood

[mycatshuman]

What If

Pairings: Prinxiety

Word count: 1, 202

Warnings: don't think there are any except deceit is in this, please let me know if I missed any.

Thank you to the wonderful @civilsounds17 for beta reading! You're the best!💚💚💚💚💚

And to you readers, this is a short reprieve in angst from me due to the recent posting of an angsty update to one of my fics and near future start of another fic that starts off quite angsty. So..please enjoy.

----

Roman and Virgil grew closer with each passing day. To most, it seemed an unlikely friendship. But to the other five in their friend group, it was a relationship long overdue. Patton and Logan, the resident mom and dad of the group, noticed the chemistry between the two before they were even friends. Remy, Emile, and Dante, noticed once the two grew closer and began their ever entertaining flirty banter. Remy, had started the betting pool of when the two wound finally get together, or at least go on a date, 2.5 seconds after he noticed.

Roman and Virgil were not stupid. Far from it, in fact. They knew of the betting pool, they rolled their eyes at the attempts of getting them together. But in all honesty, both found that they couldn't ignore or suppress their stronger feelings for each other. It was only a matter of time.

----

"You say what if I hurt you, what if I leave you

What if I find somebody else and I don't need you

What if this goes south, what if I mess you up

You say what if I break your heart in two then what"

Roman pouted in his room. Earlier, he had asked Virgil why they couldn't just date for the hell of it. The answer he received was ...not expected.

"I just-" Virgil paused, choosing his words carefully. "I don't want to be hurt, you know? And it could go bad. And then what? Would we stay friends? Would we not? I don't want to-" Virgil swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I don't want to lose you."

"Well I hear you girl, I feel you girl but not so fast

Before you make your mind up I gotta ask"

Roman understood, of course. He didn't want to lose Virgil either. But, he wanted more. And he wasn't sure if he could handle just being friends. When he loved someone, he really loved them. He poured his entire being into that feeling. But he also knew, he would break if Virgil wasn't a part of his life anymore.

"What if I was made for you and you were made for me

What if this is it, what if it's meant to be

What if I ain't one of them fools just playin' some game

What if I just pulled you close, what if I leaned in

And the stars line up and it's our last first kiss

What if one of these days baby I'd go and change your name

What if I loved all these what ifs away"

Roman was a romantic man. It's the way he was. And to not even have an opportunity to try and romance Virgil was too painful. So, he did what he did best, he prepared a dramatic proclamation of his love and made sure that everything was planned perfectly.

----

It was a busy night for most of Roman and Virgil's friends. Patton and Logan had a date. Remy and Emile had work, then they would meet up with Dante and out on their date. It was basically date night for the group, besides Roman and Virgil. But if Roman succeeded, then it truly would be date night all around.

Virgil was in the living room watching Haunted Towns reruns while he waited for the new episode as Roman stood in his room, nervously clutched his acoustic guitar. He had practiced the song probably close to two hundred times by now. But, he couldn't help the nervous jitters that seeped into his being. "What it's" ran through his head rapidly and he knew he couldn't let in any of the negative ones. However, just before he could walk down the hall, one of the thoughts popped through and he froze. What if he says yes?!?!?! Fear rooted Roman to the spot. In the living room, he heard the commercials turn on and he forced himself forward and into the living room.

Virgil sat curled up on the couch and scrolling through his phone while he waited for the show to return. Roman took a deep breath, tightening his grip on the neck of his guitar, and cleared his throat. Virgil's gaze snapped up to meet Roman's. He raised a questioning eyebrow as he noticed the instrument in Roman's hands.

"You need something, Ro?"

Roman swallowed thickly and nodded. "I just wanted to ask again."

Virgil glance flickered down the Roman's instrument. "And you need your guitar for this?"

Roman nodded. "Yeah, just-" he closed his eyes painfully. "Just please hear me out. I want you to give us- to give Me a chance. And since you weren't persuaded by words, I'm trying to persuade you by music."

Virgil frowned and crossed his arms. Roman supposed it was as good an invitation as he'd get. He sat down beside Virgil on the edge of the couch and being strumming the notes to the song. Virgil listened. He listened to the lyrics and he listened to the soft voice of Roman as he sung.

"What if the sky falls (sky falls) or the sun stops burnin'

We could worry about them what ifs 'til the world stops turnin'

Or I could kiss you (you should kiss me), what if you liked it (bet I'd like it)

Well we ain't never gonna know unless we try it

What if I was made for you and you were made for me

What if this is it, what if it's meant to be

What if I ain't one of them fools just playin' some game

What if I just pulled you close, what if I leaned in

And the stars line up and it's our last first kiss

What if one of these days baby I'd go and change your name

What if I loved all these what ifs away

Awe yeah

C'mon

You say what if I hurt you, what if I leave you

What if I find somebody else and I don't need you

Damn

What if I was made for you and you were made for me

What if this is it, what if it's meant to be

What if I ain't one of them fools just playin' some game

What if I just pulled you close, what if I leaned in

And the stars line up and it's our last first kiss

What if one of these days baby I'd go and change your name

What if I loved all these what ifs away

Away (away)"

Roman finished. His eyes closed as he prepared himself for rejection. Meanwhile, Virgil was ...well, he didn't know. He was touched, he was shocked, he was happy. But mostly, he was in love. Roman loved him enough, or liked him enough to plan all this, to play him a song, to learn the song, and- Virgil couldn't grasp it. The idea that Roman liked him enough to do this was blinding.

"Virgil?" Roman called tentatively.

Virgil launched himself into Roman's arms and buried his face in the others chest. "We can give it a shot," he whispered carefully. Roman smiled.

"That's all I ask, Stormcloud."

Virgil smiled gently. Maybe it would actually work out.

"What if?"

------

Taglist:@spxced-oxt @superwholocked-for-life @mirror2thespirit @aroundofapplesauce @roman-flair @lyditist

Masterlist

I have no self control. Please, let me know, was this worth it?

#ts deceit #ts roman #ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan #ts remy #ts emile #deceit sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remy sanders #dr. emile picani #RED #Prinxeity #Logicality #logicality #prinxiety #ts red #ts prinxiety #ts logicality #thomas sanders #sanders sides #ts shorts character #sleep sanders #cartoon therapy character #one shot #sanders sides one shot #mycatshuman fics

[footprinting]

Tarawera 2020 ✨

"So Emma, how does it feel to have so many people you care about running this weekend?".

In an immensely thoughtful few seconds, Nico zoomed right into the heart of everything.

We were in Rotorua to run Tarawera. Friday had been filled with festivities. Saturday was to be the big one. We had a rare few minutes chilling at our shared house of dear friends, in between one activity to another.

It had been a whirlwind of a week. A week previously I had hopped on a plane to see my sister in Perth - and more specifically, her with her newborn wee girl. Winnie was 11 weeks when I visited. She's perfect. We had precious days together just being, and besotted by this tiny niece. After four days: back to Wellington. Sleep. Drive up to Napier. My brother had arranged for all of us to see Elton John at the Mission, in particular for my Mum. Spectacular. It was a colourful rainbow of joyfulness and festivities - no black t-shirts to be seen - and we immersed ourselves in the warmth and music and drank it all in from the grassy field. Then a through the night drive from Napier to Rotorua, arriving at 2am. Sleep. Up again. The weekend was ready to begin. A few of us headed down to the expo and squeals of enthusiasm welcomed people from far afield, with a particular highlight being Marieve from Canada. We leapt and hugged and exclaimed that this could barely be real. It was a feeling that was to continue. Family had shone bright that week. Treasured friends radiated that same meaningful brightness.

Its been three weeks since that weekend. I keep trying to write a race report. When I think of the weekend the numbers and details fade away. It's the feels that stay with me. Love. So much love. Highs. The highs that were stratospheric. Lows. When I hear someone had to quit from the event, or when my heart falls to my feet with worry for someone else who's not doing well. Thankfulness. For all the helpers. Bewilderment. At learning to accept help. And then: more love.

No pain. No pride. No rah rah rah I'm amazing. I read a book about ultra running this week. It missed a point. It was about pushing and striving and being hard. But nothing of what it means to build a family of people who gravitate toward these same meaningful journeys we go on. And that's the real story I want to tell. Nor is the photo of a medal or a jump or a selfie. It's of a torn up hand, raw; holding two gifted daisies in wonderment from two cheering kids.

(Here's the disclaimer that you're going to need a coffee, an Ultra IPA, or a big swig of electrolyte to last the distance on this read. Settle in!)

Friday was magic. Zooming around the race check in and expo and seminars and friends was like a trail running Disneyland. I could feel myself getting nervous for Chris and for Rachel, both in for the big dance of 💯 with me. Marieve called BS on my thinking: "Hey! You're racing tomorrow! Look out for you too!". She settled my mind for the better. Strong friends know to look out for strong friends. We found quiet oases of time. We had prepared a lot back in Wellington, and this helped gift us spare hours and relaxing. Bed. Early. Reasonable sleep -- never excellent the night before -- and we woke before the 3.50am alarm.

Saturday started with a series of familiar steps. Shower. Coffee. Bircher muesli. Whispered conversation. Our bags for the day re-checked. Out the door we went. In the dark we walked the fifteen minutes to our 5am bus. The drive reminded us the scale of the journey ahead of us. Winding roads took over an hour to the start line. It rained. We were grateful for this: not too hot, and the first rain for this scorched town since Christmas. The start line was a colourful blur of people, many focused on toilet logistics. We assembled on the start line. We were ready. We look into each others eyes, Chris especially, and with Rachel, we grasp each other with meaningful words. We set off.

I was calm. It was surreal, being back in this field, where I had been three times previously. Always a finish line to amazing days. This time was the beginning. We wound ourselves around fields and the trail. Two figureheads were clapping and cheering on the edge of a high up field: Paul, the race founder / beautiful human and Kerry, previous winner / coach extraordinarre / comedian and these guys are two of the biggest hearts around. Both have been gateway drugs for us into trail running and I admire them immensely. "Hey Paul! Hey Kerry!" I yahooed up at them. They both returned with a HEY! EMMA! and Kerry yells "Right folks, run with her today, she's the cheeriest runner around!". On we weave in this dreamlike but focussed state. They are new trails we're running when we get past the fields. Beautiful. I see great whirlpools of deep water alongside the weaving track. It's going to be warm today but we're still comfortable. We get into the foresty road after 5 or so kilometres. I'm excited about this section. My legs start moving more easily, eager to settle in to some happy miles.

And then. Kilometre 9 or 10. On a piece of gravel barely the size of a fingernail. I'm flying. I go down. I'm up and running again before I dust myself off. The guys around me got a fright, as much as I did. "I'm getting the fall out of the way for today!" I jest. Adrenaline keeps me going. It stings. My sunglasses are done for, the front of my clothes dusted up. I wash myself off a bit at the next aid station. This is a return of a shakiness that's bugged me since the end of last year, a previous fall on a trail. It's ok. I recalibrate. I'm feeling ok and I know I'll be fine, alongside the need to be careful.

Kilometres 10 through 35 tick along happily. It's flowing and beautiful. Never boring. The light is already rising over the trees. My phone is purposefully tucked deep inside my bag. I absorb it all instead. The flowy paths. The cheer and vibrancy of the aid stations. The banter. People ask me sometimes what I do not to get bored when I run. So many hours! They say. But this was all encompassing. Connected. I dove into conversations in my mind that I needed to have, and occasional ones with trail friends.

At kilometre 35, Tarawera Falls, it gets a bit more technical, and again going through Tarawera Outlet. It is magestic at the Falls. Those deep, dark whirlpools. I run past one amazing vista after another. At the fifth or sixth jaw dropping viewpoint I relent. It's time to get a picture. The trail running fairies will give me demerit points if I don't capture this magic. And so I do. On we go. Each of these aid stations is such a lift. People! Colour! A hive of activity and people looking deep into your eyes offering help.

Through Tarawera Falls to Humphries Bay to Lake Okataina, kilometres 35 to 58, is the most technical of the day. Gorgeous, tricky, playful trail. I'm slower than usual here. I charge my watch during this section; biffing it into my bag in it's entirety with the charger. I hear it chirrup with each kilometre. But I don't need to see the pace. People are slowing, tired, grumbly sometimes. One person behind me audibly swears every time she hits a tree root. Which is very often. Loudly. Distracting. I zoom on a bit to get ahead. I'm ticking along and managing energy all ok. I realise here that my time goals have galloped on. I won't hit the number I had in mind. And that's ok. I make peace with it. The day is more important. Later I reflect on this: was I not hungry enough? How much more could I have done? But I'm at ease. It's ok. I settle in. I'm more than half way, relaxed, and I've still got some work to do.

I see the sign indicating an aid station up ahead, cruising into Okaitaina at kilometre 58. For the people that have run Tarawera: we recognise this aid station sign in a nanosecond. It is magical. The simplicity of red lettering on white background simply saying 'Aid Station, 200m' brings with it floods of endorphins, a feeling of possibility, and the knowledge that people will be on the other side of that sign. I am floating now, skipping along the end of the trail as I reach it. There's something more here though. A megaphone. A women in a wedding dress yahooing at me through the megaphone. Hallucinations??Nope. This could only be Lesley, spectacularly inspiring fearsome badass lady and coach extraordinarre Lesley! We each leap and embrace and squeal and then she runs in her wedding dress to help me with what I need, talking to me through the megaphone the whole time. What do I need? How am I feeling? Hurry the heck up she says, we'll sort you right out! In a blur of joy I'm getting my stuff, being covered in sun lotion by a lovely lady. ("This reminds me of looking after kids", she says with handfuls of sun lotion and I say it must be my childlike glee). I see a really special colleague at my left elbow, who's supporting a friend. I ask how her day is doing, how her friend is doing, and before I know it I'm being chased right out of the aid station by Lesley. Chop chop she says, get right out of here! On I go to chase the next hill, the last 2 minutes a blur of people and wondrousness and noise and hilarity. That was the first aid station all day of supporters (alongside volunteers) and I realised even more then how much I valued their company.

I head into Western Okaitaina Walkway. The next section is the longest of the day, 16-17 kilometres. It will be a slog. Except it's not. Not too bad. I had literal nightmares after I ran this twice the first year, the first ultra ever and in a tropical cyclone, an apocalypse of mud that was neverending. I would wake for years later being right back there, skiing in ankle deep sludge. I'd remember the feeling of standing in the shower afterwards, all my clothes on and even shoes, the mud still stuck on me. Now? It's a beautiful winding trail. Birds chirrup as do cicadas. There's dense bush and flowy trail. Sure, it takes work. But it's special. And I'm grateful for the tree cover and a reprieve from baking sun. It could be hotter, or more barren. I get it done.

Afterwards someone says to me: you couldn't have a constantly negative attitude running ultras, could you? The positivity must help. And it does. Positivity alongside realism. Sometimes you get tired. You problem solve. You keep on. You're in it for the big picture. You embrace the ups and downs. I realise here what I've got Chris into, and Rachel too, each running their own days behind me. I feel guilty. They'll be so tired. It's so long. I'm tired too. I'm doing the maths on the course and I'm already seeing it will run a little long. But there's work to do: I focus on keeping my feet flowing and running within my abilities. I recognise some of the trail, and always find new bits I'm seeing as if for the first time. Each brings with it sets of memories. And onwards I go.

I reach Miller Road, after 17k through the up and over of Western Okaitaina Walkway. "Heck am I happy to see you!" I exclaim, and I'm not the first that day to say so. I fill myself up with ginger beer, being careful to keep things simple with food, I'm getting closer to the finish line now (at 75k) but there's still a long way to go. I see a couple of running heroes waiting for a friend of theirs: one heckles me, one heckles him for heckling me and with kindness. It feels good to run downhill on the gravel road. I belt it a little bit. These legs still work. My mood has stayed mainly high for the day. There'll be wobbles every so often. But all solvable. I see so much of the beauty. I feel so bloody lucky to be out here. The only thing I have to do is keep moving.

I come into Okaitaina campground where we camped last summer, and on next to the magnificent new boardwalk around the lake. My feet have been scratching at me. You don't mess around with these things: if it's almost a problem now it will be a problem in a few kilometres and then a Very Big Problem a few kilometres after that. I had meant to change my socks at Okaitaina before I sped out of there like a racecar in a highly tuned pitstop (led by Lesley in a wedding dress). I have spares in my bag. So I take a seat at the next opportunity, peel off my shoes and socks, wipe off my feet, and luxuriate in the ridiculously amazing fresh socks. Plus a quick message to Chris (I love you and I hope you're having an amazing day and here is where I am and things are good) and my friend who'll be waiting to join me (I'm running late I say, I'll be there as soon as I can!). A selfie is a must to a group of girlfriends. And: all this takes 7 minutes. Seven. The best. Could I have kept on without it? Of course. Might it have bitten me later by not changing? Likely. Was it worth it for my mind? Hell yes.

Off I zoom (lol - off I creak) further around Lake Okaitaina, then Okaitaina township, then into Tennant's Track, then on to Blue Lake. I'm always in awe of the thousands of hours volunteers are investing into the event. And so many marshalls sitting on corners are doing exactly that through here. I notice and I thank them and I keep on. Tennant's Track is pretty cut up and rooty, and there's lots of concentrating happening. I pop out near Blue Lake - and there are supporters! - yay! Maybe it's 20 kilometres to go now, and this is all feeling more possible. Around Blue Lake I go, maybe slower than ever, with a highlight being when I hear Stu Milne at my elbow. "Gidday Emma!" he says, as he speeds into view. Holy shit! my blurred mind exclaimed, Stu - you're winning the miler?? It wasn't far off: he was the pace runner for the first placed 100-mile runner, and the two of them floated along these smooth delightful trails at a speeding pace that I'd run a fast 10 kilometres in.

I come into the Blue Lake aid station, again to familiar faces, and again so grateful for the people that give up their weekends to help us in ours. There's a photo Julia took of me coming in here and I'm full beam, OMG PEOPLE and in realising the end is nigh. I know the trail from here and I am already looking forward to seeing more people I love. The sun is low as I run through the Redwoods. The light is very special. It's paradise. Still very hard. But there's no doubting it's special here. I look down at my watch and I know that there are more hills to come. But on we go. We got this. Bending around corners and over hills. Onwards. Through here there is a cluster of three people, of an adult and two kids. Each kid gives me a single daisy. Great job! they say. I almost lose it in a flurry of emotion. I high five them and thank them hugely. I promise to carry the daisies with me. They are in my palm for a long time, and then in my pack pocket. These are the things I remember.

On and on deep into the Redwoods. And then. We're getting there. The aid station is further than I remember. Now I can see the cars and hear the music with the people. With this there will be 7 kilometres to go. I am already anticipating seeing Kate's face, her energy as we run together for that last bit, what it means to share that time after she's been waiting. I get there. I see her! But hang on: there are more people. Abi is also going to run. Jaime, Nico, Richard and Julia are all there too. What's happening?? They are there to cheer and yahoo, especially. This lifts me so high that I feel like a whole new person, a new day, a new run. Off we set in our trio. "Tell me everything about your day!! How are you?? I can't believe you're here after already running the 20 today!!" I say, I want to know everything and hear everything and drink in their own achievements of what they've done. (Also fun tip: asking questions is a super great way of getting your breath back a tiny bit). Along we gallop, them steering me in the right direction and cautioning me of all the various bumps and dangers and mile markers of how far to go. I feel cocooned and accept the help. I feel like the luckiest ever.

There's more.

Lindsay and Mel are on a corner. They leap up and down. They have their running shoes on. They are here to join us. We are now a fivesome.

The sun is reaching the lake now and the water is ablaze with pink, reflecting the glowing skies. The light is otherworldly. It's like a storybook. And with these Queens. The best.

Michelle joins us in a field. All these people have already crushed a race of their own - and are running, again, a quietly planned flourish to end this shared day. We're collecting people! Then Mal. Jaime. Nico. The pace is getting faster and faster, we're almost there, and faster still when they tell me the beer tent is closing. (Jokes. But it helped). Nine of us round the corner into the finishing chute. We're there. I leap over the finish line and in the background you can see people. The crew. My loves. Hands held up high in cheers. We did it.

Kerry is on the finish line commentating, a book end to the day. He was there at the beginning and here he is on the finish line. I thank him. This is not a day of sleep for him, nor much even in the month prior. He's a cornerstone to many peoples journeys and has been part of mine in recent years. We share words. I thank him for making friends on that bus all those years ago on the first Tarawera: You think you've come for a run, he said, but you are going to stay for the people.

Around the corner into the aid tent I go and I want to zoom right out to hang with these cherished people (and to lay horizontal in the grass). Want do you want to do now? I say. And I realise there's nothing else to do. Nothing we have to. But to be. And they spoil me like heck, with those minutes and those hours following being about sharing in the day. Of all our days. I get a shower. We go out for dinner. I get a nap. We go back out to that majestic last aid station.

My voice is scratchy from so many hollers and cheers at the 2am cheer party. This is the final aid station where we spend over two hours. I see Marieve in her last few kilometres, and Rachel, and then Chris. CHRIS! We run the end of his day together too, a story all of it's own, and a very meaningful one. He finishes. We leave the finish line as the sun comes up. It's been more than 24 hours since we woke the day previously.

What a day it had been, in between.

It's never about the day. It's about everything that comes before it, and the learnings, and the relationships that flourish to make it what it becomes. That's what keeps us going back. And that - I don't say this lightly - changes lives.

[jbankai89]

Never Let Me Go [11/37]

Chapter Ten – The Olive Branch

A week later and on the cusp of another heat in Otabek's presence, Yuri was painfully aware that he did not hate the alpha nearly as much as he used to.

And that worried him—deeply.

It was true that Yuri no longer saw Otabek as completely evil, but he still proceeded with caution where the alpha was concerned. He hadn't yet forgotten that this was the man who collared and microchipped him like some kind of animal, and had beat him when he had tried to run away.

Yuri was well aware that Otabek was not a good man—far from it.

So what didn't that bother him anymore?

Was it because he'd promised to help Minami?

Or was it because twice now he'd saved Yuri from grabby alphas like JJ?

Or was this yet another method to break him, and force Yuri to trust him?

Yuri wasn't sure anymore.

Following the party, Otabek no longer forced anything on Yuri—not food, not his company, nor his presence in 'their' bed.

Privately, Yuri was deeply grateful for this development. However, he couldn't help but feel suspicious. What was Otabek up to?

At the same time, Otabek seemed to be making a genuine effort to keep Yuri from feeling too isolated, and invited Yuuri and Viktor over often.

Despite the fact that Yuuri was only about twelve weeks along, he was already starting to show, and his stomach was distinctly rounded, though less obvious to those unaware of his condition—really, it looked more like he was slightly bloated.

“How's it feel?” Yuri asked conversationally, breaking up the silence a little as Yuuri looked away from the TV screen playing Watchmen, and over to his companion. It seemed to take a moment for the question to register, and Yuuri rested his hands on his stomach with a small grimace.

“Weird—the same,” Yuuri replied with a wince. “I'm sick a lot, you know, like morning sickness, and it's hard to eat food 'cause everything gives me heartburn. I can't really imagine ever doing this again, and I really hope Viktor doesn't press me for more, because this isn't exactly fun for me.”

“Alphas...ever the charmers,” Yuri said bitterly, and returned his gaze to the TV screen while he crammed a chip into his mouth.

“Viktor's been good. To me, I mean,” Yuuri said, his tone just shy of pleading, as though he knew that Yuri did not believe him for a second. “After the party, he had a long talk with Leo, and he's changed, I mean it. I don't really know what they talked about, but Viktor's started asking me a lot of weird questions that he didn't ask me before, like, 'are you happy here?' and 'what do you want to do today?' before, he just made the plans and I had to go along with whatever he wanted to do, and now he's constantly making sure that I'm happy with him, like he's trying to woo me or something.”

“Isn't it sort of moot, considering you're bound to him?” Yuri asked as he arched a brow at Yuuri, and the brunet shrugged.

“No idea. He's eccentric, but not like...scary eccentric. Just strange. I know this sounds a little crazy, but I feel like...he feels bad for marking me so fast. Ever since his talk with Leo, it's less of the alpha-omega dynamic I'm used to with him, and more like...I don't know, like he wants me to love him.”

“Very unlikely,” Yuri replied at once, “alphas don't care about love, they just care about heirs and having a nice little body to fuck.”

“Do they, though?” Yuuri asked uncertainly, “I mean, some alpha and omega couples I've seen, they act like...lovers. Not one above the other.”

“I've heard of that in cheesy romance novels, but I've never seen it for myself,” Yuri replied, just barely managing to keep the acerbic edge out of his voice. “I find it kind of hard to believe that an alpha would actually be capable of acting...decent. They're in too much of a rush to lay claim on an omega for that.”

“Maybe I'm just not as cynical as you,” Yuuri replied with a small shrug. “I don't mean that in a bad way,” he added quickly when Yuri opened his mouth angrily, “but...I mean, Viktor I think approached the claim of me differently than how Otabek was with you. He marked me right away, but he didn't put an obedience collar on me, or a microchip in me...I suppose he wasn't afraid that I'd run away.”

“Meanwhile Otabek seems so damn paranoid about losing me,” Yuri grumbled. “He makes all these big promises about letting me choose, but really, I have no choice.”

In response to Yuri's statement, Yuuri laughed, though it was a bitter sound.

“Yuri,” he said, “what omega does?”

~*~

When Yuuri and Viktor left that evening, Yuri felt as though he had been left with a lot to think about.

He slipped quietly to his room, curled up in a seat by the window, and watched the sun set while his mind began to wander.

Yuri was an omega, and he knew that there was no changing that.

Legally, he belonged to Otabek Altin. Unless the alpha had a sudden change of heart, there was no changing that either.

Socially however, it was still a bit of a grey area. He wasn't completely Otabek's—not yet, anyway.

Now, it seemed, it became something of a challenge to find and retake control of what little he could of his own life, within the realm of his own shitty social standing.

That concept in itself was daunting, and Yuri found that he had no idea where to start.

A soft tapping on his door drew Yuri from his thoughts, and he turned to see Otabek standing at the door, a look of uncertainty in his eyes. Yuri could not recall ever seeing him look so unsure of himself, and the lack of the usual cool aloof demeanour he usually held himself with was somewhat jarring.

“Erm, dinner is almost ready, I was wondering if you wanted to join me?” Otabek asked, and Yuri was startled by the tone in which he spoke—it was a genuine invitation, and not a thinly veiled order, which was new. “We're having borscht and olive oil bread. If you'd rather not, I can have something sent up.”

“No thanks,” Yuri replied almost at once, and Otabek nodded.

“All right, I understand.” He paused and regarded Yuri for a moment, his lips parted as though he was going to say more, but at the last moment, he turned and left the omega alone with his thoughts.

~*~

Six days later, Yuri woke abruptly in the middle of the night, just as he had during his last heat.

Pain lanced through his spine and lower abdomen, and the insistent tickle of arousal blinded him to little else but his own physical sensation. He buried his face in his pillow, his fingers digging into the fabric harshly, and he let out a low moan of pain.

Amazingly, Otabek did not suddenly appear as he usually did whenever Yuri made even the smallest vocalization of discomfort. He opened his eyes, and found three things had been left for him on the bedside table—a bottle of pills, a glass of water, and a short note.

Yuri snatched up the note first.

Call me if you need me. If you're not comfortable with me around you right now, Stephenson will be nearby if you need anything.

x

Otabek

Yuri had no idea whether or not to feel grateful; and his headspace was far too muddled for him to think clearly on it, either. He dropped the note, and with trembling hands, he reached for the pills and water, downing two of the caplets quickly before he eased back on the bed and curled up, drawing the blanket over his shaking form. He clenched his eyes shut and buried his head under one of the available pillows, and tried to ignore the agonizing pain and arousal that was coursing through him.

~*~

The pain was slow to fade, and at last Yuri was finally able to fall back asleep. As he did so, the door to his bedroom creaked open. Otabek peered inside, his eyes darkened with longing.

His breathing was soft, but heavy, and as he stared at the small form curled up in the bed, his jeans became distinctly tented. Even from such a distance, the scent of a ripe, unmarked omega was making him dizzy with lust.

“Yuri...” he breathed, and pressed his palm against the frame of the door as sweat began to dot his brow. His hand curled into a fist, and with stiff, reluctant movements, he took a large step back from the door, shut it, and all but ran down the hall.

Yuri did not stir.

~*~

Yuri remembered little of his heat, other than waking periodically to eat and take his suppressants, as well as take quick trips to the bathroom. Moving at all still hurt, even with the added pain relief of the medication, and as a result much of his time was spent in bed.

Because of limited mobility, Yuri found himself deeply grateful for Otabek's expansive library, and managed to burn his way through Nietzsche's Thus Spoke Zarathustra, as well as the trinity of Beatnik American literature—Naked Lunch, Howl, and On The Road. Strangely, despite the heavy reading, it made him feel light and safe—the necessary focus he needed to work through the books enabled him to take his mind away from his current situation, and as a result became something of a blessed reprieve from the last few months of hell that he'd been subjected to.

Of course, Yuri knew that all good things must come to an end, and he found himself almost saddened when his heat came to a close, thus halting the quiet reassurance that Otabek would leave him alone.

Barely twenty-four hours after the end of his heat, Yuri's attention was drawn to a gentle knock on the door of his bedroom. He glanced up, and tried to swallow his grimace as he saw Otabek peer inside, a look of uncertainty upon his face.

“Yuri?” he asked, “how are you feeling?”

“Fine, I guess,” Yuri replied with a small shrug, “um...thanks for the meds and books.”

Otabek beamed at his words, and Yuri quickly dropped his gaze. The lack of venom in his voice did not sit well with him for some reason, but at the same time Yuri genuinely had no idea how to address it. He kept his gaze fixed firmly on his knees as Otabek began to speak again.

“Erm, after dinner I'd like to speak with you, if that's all right?” Otabek said, his tone clearly displaying his nervous uncertainty at what Yuri's reaction might be. “I'm—it's kind of important. In the library?”

“Fine,” Yuri repeated, and nodded his head. Otabek broke into another smile. He moved forward, as though he intended to enter the room, but when Yuri lurched back he froze, and the alpha nodded his head, apparently unfazed by the rejection.

“Great; I'll see you then.”

Yuri offered up a third nod, and lifted his gaze long enough to watch Otabek leave the room. He rotated his shoulders, the familiar feeling of discomfort bleeding into him as he sat there. Instead of doing anything remotely productive, he drew his knees up to his chest, and stared off into space morosely.

What did Otabek want?

In the grand scheme of things, the answer to that was a simple one—

He wanted Yuri.

Completely.

He wanted Yuri to be his good little mate, and he wanted Yuri to willingly spread his legs for him, and he wanted Yuri to get pregnant with his kids.

At the thought, Yuri shivered. The idea of doing that still utterly terrified him.

But more simply, why Otabek wanted to see him—Yuri genuinely had no idea.

All manner of worst-case scenarios raced through Yuri's mind as he sat there, and chief amongst them, the worst possible outcome immediately flooded into his mind.

“I'm tired of waiting, Yuri,” Yuri imagined Otabek saying in a cold snarl. He envisioned the alpha grabbing him, and throwing him down to the ground. “I'll make you mine—”

As phantom teeth stung Yuri's throat, he shook himself out of the nightmarish daydream, and scrambled up from the bed.

Yuri raked his shaking fingers through his hair as he took several deep, trembling breaths, but his fear over what this talk might entail did not leave him.

Cold metal brushed his fingers, and he closed his hand around the collar that he still bore. In an instant, he was painfully reminded that no matter what kindness he had been shown of late, he was still Otabek's prisoner.

I can't forget that, Yuri thought fiercely as he gazed towards the door, and chewed on his bottom lip.

Whatever what was to come, Yuri wasn't certain that he'd ever feel ready to face it.

~*~

That evening, Stephenson brought him a light supper of thin soup and a salad, as though he was well-aware how nervous Yuri was at the prospect of seeing Otabek later. He had no idea what to make of this development and merely grunted a small, “thank you,” to the servant as he made his way back out of the room.

Even with the light supper, Yuri's stomach churned unpleasantly as he made his way from his bedroom and down to the library.

When Yuri stepped into the now-familiar space, and Otabek immediately turned to him with a small, nervous smile. In his hand he was sporting a glass of scotch, and he seemed to be trying to pass off his nervousness under a flimsy mask of nonchalance, but Yuri found that he could detect it easily.

Strangely, the lack of his usual aloof demeanour was comforting, and Yuri felt some of his tension begin to drain away.

“Sit with me?” Otabek asked, and patted the empty side of the settee farthest from him. “There's no need to look so nervous. I'll behave myself, I promise.”

Yuri did not find the feeble joke very reassuring, but reluctantly obeyed the command. He circled the sofa and sat down.

“Do you want anything?” Otabek asked, while Yuri worked through his mild shock at the fact that the alpha did not close the space between them. “Hot chocolate? Tea? Scotch? Whisky?”

“A world of no,” Yuri deadpanned, “what's this about?”

Otabek's shoulders slumped a little, and he sipped his drink once before he set it down, and inched a little closer to Yuri. He lurched forward slowly, as though he wanted to touch the omega, but at the last moment Otabek leant back, though the action seemed to be almost painful for him to perform.

“I grew up in an Alpha and Omega household,” Otabek began, and stared off into space as he spoke. “Father and Mother were very proud that their only child turned out to be an alpha, and I was raised to believe that omegas were like...pets. You loved them, you cared for them, you let them have their respect, but ultimately, yours to own.

“Father was never unkind to my mother; he loved him and cared for him, but it was always clear that he was beneath me and Father in social standing. After I turned sixteen, Mother was not allowed to order me around anymore—the reverse became true. I was better than my own mother. The man who bore me, who gave me life, and raised me.” Otabek paused, and Yuri watched in quiet amazement as a look of utter shame formed on his face. “I think...that was wrong. I was educated with a private tutor on how to be the perfect alpha. How to bring an omega to heel, how to work with an untamed one, what an appropriate punishment would be, and so on. Until very recently, I thought I was being good to you, but really...I'm no better than the rest, I see that now.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Yuri asked uncertainly, and he tensed when Otabek glanced back up at him.

“I want us to start over—really start over, and treat you how you deserve to be treated—like a person,” Otabek said firmly. “Could you please hold out your arm?”

It did not take a genius to work out which arm Otabek meant, and trembling slightly, Yuri obeyed.

Otabek rested one hand gently under Yuri's elbow, and he used the other to draw a small tube out from the inside of his jeans pocket. From his position, he could not read the label, and he tensed as he watched Otabek flip open the cap and he squeezed out a thin cream onto his inner forearm, just over the spot where his chip was. It took mere seconds for Yuri to work out the reason for the ointment as it began to take effect.

“My—my arm's going numb,” Yuri said uncertainly, and Otabek nodded his head.  

“Good. I don't want this to hurt,” Otabek replied, and then produced a wicked-looking syringe with an alarmingly wide needle. Yuri's eyes bulged, but he did not move, praying that Otabek was about to do what Yuri thought he was doing, and he desperately hoped that it wasn't a trick of some kind.

The omega watched with a detached sort of interest as the needle slid into his flesh, but he did not feel it. Otabek pulled on the plunger, and  the tracking device was extracted, along with with a few millilitres of blood.

Otabek quickly pressed a piece of gauze to the wound and covered it with a piece of medical tape as he removed the needle and set it aside. Yuri's shock amplified when Otabek then moved his hands to his throat, and pawed at the collar for a few moments before Yuri heard a tiny click, and watched as the metal fell away.

Yuri immediately brought his hands up to his bare throat, and he gazed up at Otabek uncertainly. His blank expression did not change, and Yuri found himself floundering as he tried to work out the alpha's motives.

“Why?” Yuri asked at last, and grimaced when his voice escaped him as little more than an awestruck whisper.

In response, Otabek smiled faintly and lifted his hand to rest against the side of Yuri's face. His thumb brushed lightly over the omega's cheekbone, and Yuri found himself far too stunned to react to the physical contact one way or the other.

“I want you, Yuri,” Otabek said at last, “but I don't want to own you; I don't want to control you. This is the most I can do, I'm afraid. If I relinquish my property rights of you, the Omega House will take you back. I'll give you some time to think about everything, and you can come talk to me when you feel ready.” He leant in and pressed a kiss to Yuri's forehead, then stood up and strode out of the room without looking back.

Yuri sat and stared at the door where Otabek had left, his hands still on his throat.

What had just happened?

Yuri rubbed at the bare column of flesh, and turned his gaze over to the window. It was almost full-dark outside.

Realization dawned on him.

I can escape.

Trance-like, Yuri stood and walked back to his room. As quietly as he could, he sifted through the closet, and buried at the very back he found a dusty old backpack. He evicted a spider from the bottom of the thing, and while he strained his ears for even the smallest sound, he yanked clothes off their hangers, dug undergarments out of the dresser, took his toiletries from the bathroom, and grabbed a bottle of water and as much portable food from his mini fridge as he could fit into the bag.

Yuri then tucked the bag away, and sat down on his bed, and listened.

And waited.

He kept his eyes fixed on the clock on the wall, and watched the hands tick later and later. Evening gave way to night, and when the clock began to read twelve-thirty, Yuri slipped off the bed, grabbed his boots from the closet along with a jacket, gloves, and scarf, and slung the bag over his shoulder.

Yuri padded silently down to the main level of the house, fully dressed save for his boots, which he carried in hand. All the lights had been turned off for the night and the passageways were black; he met no one one his way.

At the side door that led to the western area of the gardens, Yuri stopped and slipped his boots on. He straightened his jacket, and cast one last glance towards the dark, silent house.

I'm out of here.

The door made no noise as the omega stepped out into the night, and he disappeared into the woods.

Upstairs, Otabek's phone on the night stand illuminated, an alert in red was emblazoned across the lock screen reading, BREACH.

Deeply asleep, the alpha did not stir.

A/N: If you like my work, please consider throwing a few bucks into my Digital Tip Jar. I am a starving artist, and I like not actually starving to death :P

NLMG Masterpost

#otayuri #otayuri abo #otayuri fanfic #otayuri rec

[lunchtimerushin]

hi! sorry if this is random or if it's a sensitive thing, but do you no longer ship aoka? id on't know if you already explained it somewhere already and i understand it was because of the reposters. i guess i just feel a bit sad since you have always been my favorite aoka artist... but you like something else now and draw more of that than aoka. i'm really sorry, i am glad that you are happy, just a little sad you have left us ..but! i understand you put priority in your own interests.

Hi!! Don’t worry about it; it’s just a slight sore spot but it has more to do with something personal than the community or the pairing itself. I’m really honored to hear that aaa;;

I’m sorry if I disappointed you; it wasn’t my intention. T__T;; Err, in a way to explain myself: when it comes to shipping, I become attracted to pairings that reflect what I’m seeking at the moment. When I was in aoka, it was that desire for companionship but friendly competition. But now, my situation has become a lot more stressful, so I find comfort in the niji/aka dynamic now. _(:3

tldr: I’m sorry if I disappointed you; I still love aoka but I’m a tunnel-vision artist; I’d be really honored if you keep on following and supporting me, but I understand if you don’t. ^0^!! Do what makes you happy! //claps

So…yeah, I got some asks like this here and there wanting to know the full-full story, so I guess I’ll just c/p what I told someone else. I mean it’s not really exciting just dramaaaaaaalallama.

“what did you mean when you said you were in a weird place with ao-kaga?”

It’s a complicated subject since it has been a few years, but I’ll do my best to simplify it! It mostly had to do with the community less than it had to do with the pair themselves!

To start, I always had trouble integrating with tumblr fandoms. I had always drawn in small communities so it was overwhelming when suddenly a lot of eyes turned on me. ^_T!! I wasn’t used to getting more than 20 notes on my art, and then I was left with things in its hundreds.

That is to say, my ego was fed and grew too big. I became stubborn about certain things (like topping preferences and character portrayals; tho now I’ve become more flexible w/ it*) and I had bad encounters with several people from the fandom. (Both parties were at fault haha;; Though objectively looking at it, it was more because of my big head;; orz)

I also felt that because of my past actions, and not to mention several family tragedies caused me to be on the edge more than usual, the rift b/w me and the community has grown farther.

The people who I used to fangirl about aoka with eventually left; some of them started being aggressive and unhealthily competitive with me (in terms of art);; There were huge misunderstandings, yada yada, yeah.;

so…^_T I guess those bad experiences made it hard for me to integrate into another aoka circle. And there was only so much I could have drawn on my own;. Since I sort of lose that close circle of friends and feedback, I drifted I guess. (coughs at tsubasa.)

I don’t regret aoka! I loved it so much; it was just unfortunate I wasn’t able to mesh well into the fandom because of my immaturity and some other unfortunate incidences. ;v;“” I think I will always be passionate about them, but aah, I think for now a break is in order. But, honestly, it’s really easy for me to fall in love with them again.

Here’s something of a secret, I was going through my aoka doujinshi collection with the intent on selling them off. After reading several I got sucked back in lol, and I couldn’t bear to sell away my beloved doujinshis. (I also still collect several artists’ works.) I always wander, but there’s always a 70% chance I’d be coming back ww.

and yea, reiterating with the ships and what I’m attracted to; I like this new ship bc I see myself in Akashi; so many expectations shoved on me, reprieve is really nice in those cases. orz;;;

Yeah;; just don’t mind me skjfh;; I really just do what I like orz… even I can’t predict myself…

But I really appreciate everyone’s patience with me.;; _(:3 

I’ve been trying to grow as a better person, but sometimes my life situation just really affects my fandom interactions. and it’s just been really stressful lately orz;; so I’m sorry if I’m not as open or talkative or very prickly as of late….;;;; 

EDIT:*: someone asked me to clarify what I meant by: “like topping preferences and character portrayals; tho now I’ve become more flexible w/ it“

I guess I should've made it clear that I mostly meant fanfics when I said that. I just didn't read what I didn't like. While I'm chill with people who liked aoka as a switchship or as a ka/ao, I just didn't read the fics. I started aoka with pixiv comics, so when I journeyed into fics for a while, I backed out of it quickly when I didn't agree with the characterization. It was mostly me not reading people's stuff. (Which, for some reason, someone called me out on it and said that I was a hypocrite?? for writing fics but not reading other people's stuff.) I guess you can call me a hypocrite or someone who was too proud I guess.... _(:3;; I just kind of saw how it wasn’t my cuppa;

#Anonymous #about lunch #lunch talks #zzzzzzzzzzz #im sorry if this shows up in the ship tag or search #not my intention orz