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cleverhideoutchild · 3 years

Note

cries @ your mammon fic, can i make a request if your requests are open? each of the bros react to mc having to get a surgery done (like for the heart) and theyre demons so this is an unfamiliar subject to them since they wouldnt ever need any surgery. So mc is extra fragile for the next 2 weeks or so when they need to recover, the hospital is full of machines the bros know nothing about either (like seeing mc's x-rays and being confused) medical treatment has changed a lot since the last time

My very first request! Sorry if this isn't up to your expectations or if it's OOC. I'm still learning! I'm re-doing the banner btw, so no banner for now.

❀(*´▽`*)❀

Masterlist

Rules

Prompts list

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Fandom : Obey Me!

Type : HeadCanons

Pairings : Various x MC

Genre : Fluff, and a bit of comedy

Includes : Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor

Warning : Surgeries, hospital

Summary : You're going into a surgery in a few hours to get an open heart surgery, and the demon bros are a bit nervous and confused cause they're not familiar with human surgeries. After the surgery, they stay by your side until you are fully recovered.

Lucifer

Most likely to be the most calmest among the bros.

He made sure you are prepared both mentally and physically for this surgery.

He made sure you're on empty stomach before surgery so it will go smoothly.

You're nervous? He's gonna let down his pride and hold your hands until it is time for the surgery.

When the time has come, he will give you a reassuring smile to calm you down.

During the whole surgery, he wait outside the room; constantly pacing back and forth the hallway.

After it's done, the doctor call him to the office to explain the succession of the surgery while the nurses move you into a room.

When the doctor showed him an x-ray of your body, he's a little confused but kept calm nonetheless he's a little confused, but he got the spirit.

After listening about what to do and not to do while you recover, he then excuse himself to go see you.

By the time he got there, you were already awake; tubes and monitors on and around you.

He slowly and calmly approaches you.

When he's finally by your side, he put a hand on top of yours and gave you a soft smile. I mean the softest smile ever.

"See, I told you. You can do it." he then kisses your forehead gently like hanshjahzjBa it's cute ugh.

For the whole duration of the recovery, he stay by your side; comforting you, feeding you when you can't, giving you light kisses, and bringing you flowers.

Even after you're fully recovered, Lucifer still kept an eye on you just incase something happened to you.

More under the cut cause I was enjoying myself

Mammon

"You're going into a- WHAT?!"

Please calm him down, he's really nervous for your surgery. If you can, please shut his mouth as well.

He almost got kicked out due to how loud he is. Please reassure him that you will be fine throughout the whole surgery.

Will make sure you're prepared for it.

Tried to steal a picture from the waiting room, but that didn't go as plan. Keep an eye on him please.

He's not the best at words but he tried. A for effort.

While the surgery is going, he waited impatiently outside the room; constantly reminding himself that you're strong and you'll able to get through this.

When it was done, the doctor call him in. They then showed him an X-ray of you and tells him about the successful surgery.

"So this is the X-ray results, thankfully it's not hard to replace the heart due to the structure of the bones."

"Wait, that's MC's bones? How can you do that? Did you went inside their body and then take a photo of it?"

Yeah, he's a little confused.

After everything was explained to him, he quickly went to check on you. He got lost a few times while trying to find your room.

By the time he got there, you were still unconscious. So, he approaches you quietly.

He sat on a chair beside your bed and held you hand, just casually admiring you peaceful face. Sometimes he wonder how he got so lucky to have you.

Overall, you can just see the admiration on his face like agahsnsksnzhaj he loves you so much and is very happy you decided to choose him, and he's very grateful of you but he's too stubborn to admit that to your face.

When you wake up, he quickly let go of your hand and pretends to look out the window.

During your whole recovery, he stayed by your side and make sure you're comfortable. He brings your favorite flowers from time to time as well. He's not the best at actions either, but he tried.

Leviathan

Uh oh.

Crowded hospital? Weird computer stuff? People are gonna cut you open and replace your heart? Oh no.

When I say he's way more panicked than Mammon, he really is. Please calm him down before he breaks something.

He's not familiar with the whole surgery thing so he's really nervous for you.

Tries to give you encouraging words, but ended up stuttering instead. Please tell him that you'll be fine, he needs reassurance.

Also while you're at it, make sure you explain to him that with you getting a new heart doesn't mean you won't love him anymore.

He constantly asked you if people can play games on those monitors, you told him no.

When you finally went into the surgery room, his anxiety level reached sky level. Sweet! New achievement! I mean- ahem.

This demon right here can't help but panicked a little bit while waiting for the surgery to be done.

When it's done, the doctor called him to the office for a brief explanation.

If you thought he can't get any more nervous then Oh boy, you're very wrong.

During the whole explanation he just sat silently on the chair and frequently nods his head. When he saw the X-ray, he got even more confused.

After the short yet awkward explanation, Leviathan quickly went to your room.

When he arrives, you were already awake, and so he quickly stand by your side. Please tell him you still loves him, he needs it.

During the whole recovery, he stayed by your side and played games with you. So with that being said, you're not bored at all.

Satan

The second calmest.

He read a bunch books about surgery, so he's not too nervous unlike the others.

He held your hand while you both wait, occasionally reminding you that it'll be fine.

When it's time, he gives you a hug and the softest smile he can muster.

While he wait, he can't help but pace back and forth in the hallway. He was worried, don't blame him. :(

When the surgery is done, he was called to the office for you guessed it, explanation again. At this point I'm getting tired

He already read about this stuff, so he's not too confused about it.

After the doctor was done, he excuse himself to go see you.

When he went inside you room, you weren't awake yet, and so he stayed by your side while reading a book and holding your hand.

When you're awake, he asks you how're doing. Even though he knows it's a stupid question considering you just finish getting a surgery done.

During your recovery, he's usually seen sitting beside your bed; reading you a book or telling a story about Mammon's stupidness.

He tries to bring you a cat once, but he failed. Sweet, 3 more to go

Asmodeus

When you tells him you're gonna get a surgery, he freaks out cause he thought you were gonna get plastic surgery.

He kept telling you that you don't need any plastic surgery cause you're beautiful the way you are. You just kinda have to shut him up and then explain it to him.

Once he understood the situation, he is more than willingly to come with you.

When you both arrived, he was a little confused due to the amount of monitors and stuff in that hospital. But he's not complaining about the amount of shiny surface there is.

He can see his beautiful face from many angles and he's very happy about it.

Before the surgery starts, he gives you a tight hug and make sure to tell you that everything will be going as smoothly as his skin, I mean- what.

During the whole operation, he waits patiently outside while looking at the passing nurses and doctors.

After that you know the drill, he was called into the office, the doctor explain stuff to him, yada-yada-yada, you get my point

When the doctor shows him your X-ray, he was absolutely confused. The doctor have to explain it to him.

After that he went to your room to check on you.

During the recovery, he frequently checks on your well being. Actually, scratch that, he rarely leaves your side.

When he does leave, he will come back with a ton of fresh and juicy gossips.

Beelzebub

He almost choked when you said you were going into a surgery in a few hours. Poor baby was frightened.

He made sure you are ready for the surgery by asking a lot of questions. Answer then honestly please, he needs to know.

Will hold your hand while waiting and occasionally giving you words of encouragement.

Will try his best to prevent himself from giving you any food before the surgery.

Before you were taken away to the surgery room, he gives you a little peck on the lips. For good luck he says. (｡･ω･｡)

While the operation is going, he quickly went out to buy some food cause your boy is H U N G R Y :(

When he comes back, the operation was finished with a successful note.

And you know the rest, yada-yada-yada

When the doctor shows him your X-ray, he was confused.

"Wait, but how?"

After that you know the rest, he went to your room, your awake, yada-yada-yada

Your whole recovery process is basically just Beel pampering you with love and affection.

He also makes sure to gives you food that won't upset both your stomach and heart.

Belphegor

Finally, the last one! I- ahem He was chill about your surgery. But we know he's silently panicking inside

He lazily puts a hand on your waist while you both walked down the hallway, making sure you're comfortable until the surgery.

While you both waited, he gives you sleepy hugs and reassuring words.

When it was time for the operation, he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before smiling at you.

While the surgery was going, he decided to take a little nap on the hospital bench.

You know the drill at this point, I'm too lazy to type it again cause it's night time and I have classes tommorow

When the doctor shows him your X-ray, he couldn't care less honestly. He just wanted to see you.

Your 2 weeks of recovery is just full of you and Belphie taking naps together and maybe planning to prank Lucifer with Satan once you've fully recovered.

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And it's done! Sorry that the Belphie one is too short. I am very tired, I wanna go to sleep. Bye bye. Also, ignore any mistakes or misspellings please, it's almost midnight here.

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merakiui · 3 years

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HiiiIi! Your work is great! ^^! I love it soo much! May I request a oneshot or headcannons (your choice) with Scaramouche with a s/o who is abused? What would he do to her abuser? Thank youuuu^^

Scaramouche Finding out That You’re Being Abused HCs

cw: mentions/descriptions of (physical and emotional) abuse, violence/torture, injuries **please proceed with caution and do not read if this is triggering! note - keep the scaramouche requests coming! I love that short fatui man >:) ofc I’ll also write for the other characters; don’t be shy to send in requests for them as well! :D

You don’t see Scaramouche often due to his time-consuming job as a Fatui Harbinger, but when you do it feels like a breath of fresh air. His schedule doesn’t allow him much free time and you’re always flitting around with work from the Adventurers’ Guild.

So when you do meet with him, the two of you use the time wisely, going out to eat or sitting at the harbor to catch up on any trivial matters happening within your lives. It’s during these much-needed meetings where Scaramouche begins to notice a few facets of your appearance and personality that seem off (for lack of a better word).

He knows something is up when he points it out rather bluntly, not wasting any time in tiptoeing around the subject. He’ll ask about why you seem so unfocused and tired lately and why new marks seem to form upon your arms and legs.

Scaramouche is going to pry endlessly until he gets the full truth from you. You can hide those marks with makeup or long sleeves, but it won’t prevent him from continuously asking. He’s aware of how uncomfortable you get when it becomes a consistent topic of conversation between the two of you.

You know you’re stressing him out and the fact that he can’t be with you 24/7 drives him insane with worry. Normally, he’d hold himself in higher regard, reassuring himself with the obvious fact that he’s just better than everyone else and shouldn’t worry over a simple adventurer.

But the tipping point is when you begin to avoid your usual meetings, refusing to show up at the quaint café you normally visit. You’re almost close to cutting all forms of contact with Scaramouche and that’s when he realizes it’s getting to be a serious issue.

He has an inkling as to what might be going on, but he never could’ve imagined what he’d find when he decided to drop by your house on one of the days where work wasn’t suffocating him.

After nearly two weeks of zero communication, you open your door and are thankfully alive. But your appearance is even worse than before and you’re just about ready to shut the door, fearing his opinion, when he stops it with his foot.

He’ll demand you explain at once, noting that the puffy, bruised injury around your eye is absolutely worth fretting over. There are other surface injuries on your arms and wrists: small bruises and shallow cuts, some of which are fresh. And your throat is absolutely horrible, bruised and battered as if you just emerged from a battle.

The part that’s most wounding, aside from your obvious injuries, is the fact that you have the audacity to lie about it, saying it was just a commission gone wrong.

Scaramouche calls you out immediately, demanding to know the real story. And he won’t leave until you confess. He’s very intimidating when he gives you such a stern order and that harsh expression has you breaking down at once, no longer strong enough to keep everything inside.

You feel so guilty for hiding this from him, but you didn’t want to burden him with your own personal business. He’s absolutely enraged to hear about your abuser, holding no form of sympathy for them.

He’ll console you and get you to one of the best healers in Teyvat so that you can rest up. He’s with you every step of the way, constantly assuring you that you’re safe and that no one will ever lay a hand on you again. It’s during these moments with him where you begin to see a softer and caring side to the normally haughty Harbinger.

While you’re busy recovering, Scaramouche devotes every ounce of his spare time to finding your abuser. He’ll send his underlings all over the continent if he has to and once he finds them there will be no mercy. Not even the Archons can save them from the harsh torture Scaramouche will subject them to.

He’ll return everything they did to you tenfold. A single black eye becomes two and simple cuts and bruises become broken bones that are nearly puncturing organs and causing internal bleeding. Throughout the torture, he’ll have a healer chase away their fatal wounds with a soft touch so that he can interrogate them.

It’s a vicious cycle of torture and regeneration, one that will last however long Scaramouche deems fit. He may dispose of your abuser once he’s satisfied with the damage, but that won’t happen until after he thinks they’ve gotten an authentic taste of what you had to go through.

You won’t know what became of your abuser, as you refuse to give them anymore thought, and Scaramouche now looks out for you ten times more than he did before. You’ll find yourself in the company of his underlings when he can’t be there to protect you, and if you ever have any self-deprecating or depressing thoughts related to the abuse he’ll be quick to chase them away.

#tw: abuse #tw: violence #tw: torture #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact hcs #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche hcs #genshin impact scaramouche x reader

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tooweirdforyou · 3 years

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When The OP Boys Are Sick

A/N : idk enjoy. And honestly all of them would be very needy for attention :p

Includes : Kid, Law, Luffy, CAVENDISH 🤍 and Bartolomeo.

Summary : how these five boys react when they’re sick in bed.

Luffy

Luffy is a child so he wants attention, but he’ll be the wailing, sobbing type. If he isn’t, then he’s the drunk type.

“[NAAAAMEEEE]! I WANT MEAT!..”

The poor rubber boy suddenly became weak and falls back into bed with a thud, his face exploding in the burning fever he was having.

“Luffy..” you sigh in exasperation, rushing over and checking his temperature before tucking him back in. “Sanji’s making you some soup, with small bites of chicken, you can’t have big cooked meat yet.”

Luffy cries out in agony dramatically, wailing at the thought of no meat and groans. “I WANT MEATTTT! Get me meat nowww!”

Your head began to ring with Luffy’s cries, his tears staining his cheeks and pillow, while his snot began to fill up and drip down his nose. His sniffles were heard and you can tell Nami was slowly fuming outside the room from Luffy’s childish cries.

You just smile softly and go over to your Captain, placing your hand in his and leaned close, pressing your forehead to his.

The action made Luffy stop as he quieted down and stares at you with teary eyes and small sniffles.

“Luffy, your fever is slowly but surely going down. If you relax, rest and eat Sanji’s delicious soup then you’ll be better by tomorrow afternoon. I’ll spend some beli’s to get you meat, okay?”

Luffy’s teary eyes slowly went away and a hopefully and starry glint shined in them. “..really?”

“Yes, now relax and get some rest, alright? When Sanji’s done with your soup, I’ll bring it to you.”

Luffy then plasters a wide grin and and chuckles eagerly. “Shishishi~ okay!~” he sang out, gripping the blanket and shutting his eyes.

You shake your head playfully at how easily he listened and just smiled at him, letting him rest.

“Good night, Luffy.”

Law

Law is the strong silent type, so he won’t say anything, he’s just all shy and embarrassed easily when he’s sick~

“It’s amazing that even you can get sick.”

Your lips curve up in amusement as you sat in the chair beside Law’s bed, said male currently resting upon it with shallow breathing and shut eyes.

Your legs were crossed and in your hand was a good book you were reading. The appearance was similar to Law’s whenever you were sick and honestly, it made you feel prideful and great to have the roles reversed.

“Shut up..” Law turns away onto his side to hide his face which was surely pink, but not due to the fever.

You giggle at him and set your book to the side and lean closer to him. “Don’t be embarrassed, Law, everyone gets sick once in a while. Even doctors.” You tease, making the poor boy flush further as he clicks his tongue.

“Stop talking. Leave, I’m sleeping now.”

You just giggle further and stand up. “Fine, I’ll be back with some soup for you. You want bread with it?”

Law pales and he gives a sharp look to you with the tilt of his head. “I swear if you try that, I’ll-“

“Yeah, yeah. See you in a bit.” You roll your eyes playfully and went to walk away when Law grabs your hand.

“What is it-“

With force, Law pulls you back to the bed and into it beside him, and he turns to wrap his arms around your torso.

Your back is facing him so you can’t see his face but his tight grip on your waist and legs around yours let’s you know you aren’t going anywhere.

“Stay.”

“You literally just said to-“

“I know what I said! Now I want you to stay!”

He buries his face into the neck and hair and inhaled your scent a bit, relaxing his grip and just held your closer.

“Just stay with me..”

Kid

Kid is literally a giant ass toddler who wants nothing but attention, but his stubborn ass will act all strong and tough.

“Fuck off! Leave me alone! Come in here and I’ll rip you to shreds and blow you to guts!”

Kid’s loud yells and scowl made the poor lackey outside the door jump in fear and scurry off with his life flashing.

You gave a sympathetic expression to him and exhale, mentally cursing Killer for insisting the Captain to let him take care of those Pirates yesterday, only for Kid to be stubborn and take care of it himself.

It lasted longer than intended since various sea kings appeared and the snow appearing just made it much worse, and now, Kid was sick.

Knocking on the door twice, you wait for a response before letting yourself in.

“OI! DID YOU NOT HEAR ME?! I SAID!-“

“Alright, stop yelling already.” Your voice interrupts, slamming the door shut behind you and tossing a cool towel in Kid’s face.

The red head scowls when the towel drops onto his lap when he sat up and scoffs when he sees you. “Get out. Your face irritates me.”

“Thanks.” You lazily smile at him and walk closer towards the bed, setting down a fresh glass of water and some meds for him. “Here, take these.”

Kid eyes the items you set down and turns away. “No way. That shit is disgusting.” The visible sweat forming on his face makes you sigh as you grab a cloth and wipe it gently, much to Kid’s dismay.

“This shit is what will let you get out of bed, Captain dumbass, now take it.” You say, pulling away and Kid narrows his eyes. “What’d you say?!”

“I said-!”

Kid’s rough pull when he grasps your wrist is enough to yank you into his lap and he’s quick to pin you down to the bed.

He smirks down at you before dropping his weight onto yours, successfully crushing you and eliciting a painful grunt from you.

“Agh, get off me, Kid, I have to go help Killer-!”

“Too bad, I have to rest in order to get better, so that’s what I’m doing. You’re stuck here until then.” Kid says, adjusting a bit so both him and you were comfortable as he continues to lay sprawled on top of you.

You hiss and curse into his ear but Kid pays no mind and quite easily falls asleep, making you groan in annoyance and just lay there, exhaling heavily until Killer came in.

“...you’re so fucking heavy..”

Cavendish

Oi.. clingy baby omg- Cavendish is precious and so adorable because he’ll want nothing more than to just sleep but with you in his arms. Just pray Hakuba doesn’t show up.

“Come, [Name]! Lay down with yours truly and provide me your body warmth!”

“No.”

Cavendish is visibly shocked when you refuse him and he springs up rather quickly, causing dizziness to form in his aching head. “Ack-“

You heave a sigh and push the tall blonde down on his back and switch the wet rag on his forehead for a fresh one.

“If I lay down with you, I’ll get sick. Who will watch after you then?”

Cavendish merely puffs his cheeks out in defeat and exhales heavily, feeling his forehead burning up despite the chills his body was receiving.

“I’m tired and cold and hot and hungry at the same time!” Cavendish cries out in pure frustration, making you smile at his pain, you patting his chest gently.

“I know, Caven.” You hush out in a soft voice, rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand while the others played with his hair.

You pulled the covers up to his shoulders and let him rant on exhaustedly before slowly drowsing off with your delicate touches.

Just as he was about to completely pass and sleep, he mumbles out a few words at the end of his rant.

“...thank you.. [Name]..”

Bartolomeo

Bartolomeo is constantly passing out because someone like you is seriously taking care of him. He won’t ever recover, just staying sick for days.

“The one and only [Name] in the flesh!! Taking care of me!?” Tears began welling up in his eyes as Bartolomeo bit his upper lip to prevent making noise.

“What have I done to deserve such a blessing?”

He continued to sob tears of joy, his tears successfully soaking and wetting his cheeks and pillowcase, a bit of his blanket as well.

Suddenly there was a knock on his door.

Startled, Barto quickly pulled up the covers to hide his teary, flushed face and felt his heart beating a million miles a minute.

“Barto, are you awake? I made you some soup.” Your angelic voice calls out and Barto’s heart nearly stops. He was too tongue-tied to speak, only stammering out incoherent noises under the covers.

Assuming he was in pain, you set the bowl down and rip off the covers in a panic, just to see Bartolomeo teary with wide eyes staring up at you.

His face was flushed more than usual and you frown, placing a hand on his forehead. The action alone nearly made him pass out.

“You still have such a high fever... should I take you to Luffy’s doctor?” You ask softly, worry evident in your eyes.

At the mention of seeing the Straw hats, Bartolomeo’s eyes widens and he literally lets out a loud gasp before nearly fainting.

“S-S-S-Straw Hat Luffy?—!”

A/N : I wanna write something. I really do. I wanna WRITE, but my hands and head doesn’t want to. Ugh, I feel so unmotivated! >:))) but I’ll push through. I have something I want to do.

Also, I love Cavendish sm but I can’t write for him 😭 whyyyy?

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illfoandillfie · 3 years

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Kinktober Day 1: Rimming

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,560

Warnings: Rimming, anal sex, some vaginal fingering, himbo Ben (mild unintentional hypnosis I guess)

A/N: Welcome to Kinktober! This is actually an idea i’ve been thinking about for quite a while. We’ve done himbo Rog and himbo Gwil so it only seemed fair to do himbo Ben and since he’s obviously an ass man......only made sense that he’d be into anal lmao. It seemed like the perfect fit for the first of these prompts. But this is the first time I’ve written (or even really thought about) rimming so I hope it’s okay!

“Geeze Ben, could you maybe close your porn next time. Didn’t really expect to see that autoplay when I woke the computer up this morning,” Ben snorted into his plate of eggs, “Which one was it?” “Something called Anal Punisher 3.” “Don’t know what you’re complaining about, that’s a good one.” His eyes twinkled teasingly and he poked his tongue out as you sat in front of your own plate. “I’m sure it is.” You chuckled, able to see the funny side now that you weren’t staring directly at close up of a porn stars arsehole, “Just not when I’m trying to check my emails on our shared desktop.” “As if you’ve never had a cheeky wank at that computer.” “That’s what I have a laptop for,” You laughed again, shaking your head. “Alright, fair play. I only left it up cause you got home early last night and I had to, um, clean up.” You rolled your eyes at the flimsy excuse. “And if you don’t want me watching Anal Punisher 3 then maybe you should let me punish your anal....arse....fuck, you know what I mean.” It was your turn to snort into your breakfast, Ben’s clumsy attempt at seduction nearly making you inhale the scrambled eggs. When you finally got yourself under control you said, “I don’t care if you watch it, just shut it down when you’re finished.” “Sorry love,” “But y’know, if you did want to anal arse fuck me tonight I wouldn’t say no.” Ben’s eyes lit up in excitement. He’d either not heard the joke you’d made at his expense or decided it wasn’t worth bringing up if the possibility of anal was on the table, “Serious?” “Serious. I’ll even put my plug in when I get dressed so we don’t have to spend as much time on foreplay.” “If I hadn’t already married you, I’d propose on the spot.”

But by the time Ben got home he seemed more interested in just cuddling on the couch. You’d done as you said you would and worn your plug all day, constantly thinking about what would happen later that night. Right up until Ben stepped inside yawning, when you snuck off to the bathroom to remove it, realising your plans were unlikely to go ahead. You’d half expected him to fall asleep on the couch after dinner but evidently, some part of him still wanted you. He tapped his thigh and beckoned you towards him, pulling you down so he could hold you close and kiss your shoulder. Soon enough that cuddling had turned to making out, you straddling his lap as you kissed him deeply, his large hands pulling you into him, stroking whatever bare skin he could find. Without thinking you dragged your fingers through his hair. He hummed in response so you did it again, your fingers creating small, firm circles against his scalp, drawing random patterns there as you focused on keeping your lips on his and your tongues entwined. Ben made soft pleased sounds as your fingers kept up their movement, almost moaning at the sensation. You could feel him getting harder under you as you carefully rocked your hips. “Benny?” “Huh?” His hands had begun to roam more, moving down to your arse, grabbing and squeezing as he pulled you against him. “Kinda got me excited here honey. Might wanna stop if you’re too tired to carry through,” “What?” He seemed nearly dazed, not properly comprehending what you were saying. You shifted your hand to his chest, drawing small circles with your finger, “I mean I’ve been thinking about you fucking me all day anyway.” “Think?” “Exactly, thinking about our conversation this morning. Remember? Anal Punisher 3?” “Anal?” It was still a question but there was a tone of excitement behind the dopey confusion. “You said you wanted to.... I kinda really want you to.” “Mmmm,” “I mean I get it if you’re too tired,” you said softly, stroking your palms over his biceps, “but I’m up for it now if you are. So, do you still want to?” “Mmhmm,” but as keen as he sounded, Ben didn’t seem inclined to move to the bedroom or even to begin to undress you. He was too caught up in feeling you up and trying to kiss you again. “Don’t you want me Benny?” He was slow to react, eyes still shut as he nodded, speech flowing like treacle “Want - you.” “You can have me.” You had to lean back to stop him from kissing you again. As much as you liked making out, you were getting eager for more and wanted to know where he was at. He nodded again, not seeming to hear you, and then, when he couldn’t immediately locate your lips again, opened his eyes. It reminded you of the time a few friends had dragged you and Ben to a hypnotists show. None of your group had been pulled on stage to experience the hypnotic powers the man claimed to have, but those who had been had all worn similar expressions to Ben. Eyes heavy lidded and almost glazed over and when they’d gone back to their seats you’d noticed that they seemed a bit dazed and confused. You’d not seen Ben look like that before. Well, maybe a bit dazed after you gave him a proper good blow job, but nothing to this extent. Not even when you edged him repeatedly. He tended to get whiny and loud rather than glassy eyed and dopey. Usually more talkative too, begging or moaning your name. This was something new.

Curiously, you stoked his hair back off his face and asked him how he felt, tugging lightly on the ends that reached the back of his neck. “Good,” he sighed softly, “Kiss?” You couldn’t deny him that when he’d asked so cutely, so you leaned in to kiss him again, letting him draw you in deeply for a moment. When the chance arose you let your lips slip from his, kissing along his jaw until you reached his ear, “What else do you want?” Ben hummed softly and then said, “Arse.” It was unusual for Ben to be so monosyllabic. Even when he was super horny and desperate for you, he could generally get most of a coherent sentence out. Nothing that would win any literary awards of course, but enough so you knew what he meant. “What do you mean Benny?” “Ummm....arse.....cock.” It sounded like it had been a struggle for him to even think of the two words he wanted but you couldn’t help but giggle, “Does that mean you want to fuck me?” “Yeah,” “Okay baby. But you have to do everything I say, understand?” Ben nodded. “Can you do what I say Benny? Be a good boy and follow my instructions?” He nodded again, “Yes. Please.” You kissed him once more, trying not to laugh too much, and then scooted off his lap. Ben whined as soon as the physical contact was broken. “If you want my arse we gotta move to the bedroom,” He frowned as if he didn’t quite understand but let you take his hand all the same and followed you to the bedroom.

Ben’s hands began to wander again when you stopped to open your bedroom door, grasping your hips and then dropping lower to rest against your behind. It was hard to ignore the tingle the light contact sent through you but you bit down on your rising need as you turned and grasped Ben’s hands, “Gotta wait for that Benny. Just a little longer.” You stepped back towards the bed and Ben smiled dopily as you pulled him along. “I mean I’m ready but not all the way. But if you help get me lubed up you can fuck my arse for as long as you want.” It was like a light turned on inside Ben’s mind. His eyes still had that unfocused look but they were wider and he was nodding enthusiastically. “You gonna undress me or should I start for you?” You laughed and when he didn’t immediately move you began pulling your shirt off over your head, too eager to wait. You reached behind you to unclasp your bra, “C’mon Benny. Help me out.” Ben blinked twice before he seemed to understand but was soon offering his help, pulling the bra from your arms, gently cupping your breasts as he revealed them, thumbs falling into a familiar rhythm rubbing back and forth over your nipples. Still moving slowly, Ben leaned in and kissed your throat, humming in response as you pressed your chest into his hands and sighed contentedly. But he clearly had something else on his mind because soon enough his hands fell, fingers picking at the waistband of your leggings. Indulging him you quickly shed your pants, turning so he could see the thing he really wanted as you stripped off the final layer of clothing. Ben watched intently as you wiggled your hips teasingly and eked the waistband of your knickers down a few inches. And then something changed.

You felt it in the air, a shift in energy, but even that wasn’t enough to prepare you as Ben growled and lunged forward, his hands tight on your waist as he lifted you onto the bed, barely giving you time to settle on your hands and knees before he dived in behind you. All you could manage was to gasp his name as he rushed to tear your underpants down your thighs. But your surprise at his sudden movement doubled as he spread your cheeks and buried his face between them. He’d licked you like that once or twice but only when he’d been eating your pussy and teasingly snuck his tongue elsewhere as you tried to recover from your orgasm. This was entirely different.

It felt similar to the vaguely tickly sensation he made you feel when he was helping you relax before a round of anal, when he would tease you with light strokes from his fingers until you were shivering and wanting more. But there was more heat to it. His breath hot and his tongue wet as he traced your hole. You felt like you’d been completely lit up from within, like he’d suddenly discovered a hundred more nerve endings than he usually hit. And adding to all the physical sensations of Ben’s fingers holding you open and his mouth exploring your darkest nooks, was the feeling of doing something properly filthy. You’d felt the same when you and Ben first tried anal, completely depraved at enjoying something so taboo. That feeling had lessened as you did it more, your enjoyment then stemming from Ben’s improved skills more than the act itself. But with your head against the sheets and your arse in the air you remembered why you’d liked feeling so downright dirty. It only heightened your desire and made every caress of Ben’s tongue sweeter.

Of course, best of all was just how into Ben was. You wondered how he could possibly be breathing when every second seemed to be taken up with moans and groans as he feasted on you. The noises started softly as he tantalized you with hard licks against your arsehole and the surrounding area. But as his tongue explored deeper, as he pressed into you, making your arse feel slick and hot with his drool and making your pussy throb, he got louder. He seemed to enjoy you more and more, as if he’d never eaten anything as satisfying in his life. That was enough to have you shaking. You were already wet from grinding against him on the couch but the ways he was touching you and how thoroughly he was enjoying it had you positively soaked. “Finger me Benny,” you gasped, trying to maintain some of the control you’d intended to have. Ben did as you asked, never able to deny you what you craved, but it wasn’t up to his usual standard. His fingers weren’t as deft as normal, moving awkwardly and out of time. It was as if his fingers were trying to work off of muscle memory alone, his mind too consumed with something else to take any notice of your cunt. With a needy whine you clumsily disentangled one fist from the sheets and batted Ben’s hand out of the way, replacing it with your own. Ben didn’t make any indication that he’d noticed you start touching yourself, except to tighten his grip on your arse, holding you firmly as you began to writhe against your fingers. He happily went back to gripping a cheek in each hand, pulling them wide to give himself better access to your arsehole. It seemed that wearing your plug had been a good idea because Ben found it easy to press his tongue into you, licking around and making your muscles tighten before withdrawing and sinking in again. And that stimulation plus your own fingers in your cunt made you moan wantonly into the bedding. Ben answered with his own long, loud moan of desire, sending a shiver along your spine. It was enough to tip you over the edge, your fingers massaging a spot within you as Ben rapidly tongued your hole.

You rode out your high before letting your fingers slip back to tangle in the sheets once more, but Ben showed no signs of stopping. He might very well have kept up the intoxicating performance all night if you hadn’t whined his name. Even that wasn’t enough to make him stop entirely, just slow down and hum. “Ben? Benny?” you gasped, as he readjusted his grip on you, “You gonna fuck me or what?” Ben groaned as if he didn’t want to stop tasting you but wanted to move on to other things as well. And you were on the verge of instructing him to get the lube when you felt his fingers. He reached under you, two digits carefully tracing along your cunt, sliding through the creamy evidence of your earlier orgasm. He didn’t break contact, his fingers just as softly sliding along your crack and up to your arsehole. And then they were pushing against the ring of muscle. Usually he’d take his time applying lube but he seemed too lost in the moment to remember it. You didn’t mind too much though. Lube might have made it a touch more comfortable but wearing the plug had helped loosen you up and Ben had thoroughly coated everything with his saliva and your own cum. His fingers breached you moderately easily, making you shiver and whine at the feeling of being filled again. “God it’s a good thing we do this a lot,” you half sighed, half laughed into the sheets, as Ben’s fingers sank another inch into you. Ben’s only response was to lean forward and lick around where his fingers were penetrating you, humming happily as he did so.

Ben seemed inclined to spend just as long fingering you as he did licking you, but the way his fingers moved inside you quickly had you worked up and eager for more. “God Ben. You’re hard right?” Ben only pumped his fingers into you faster but you took it as a yes. "So fuck me already. Please Benny,” It came out whinier than you’d expected so you cleared your throat and tried a proper demand, “I need your cock in my arse now Ben.” You weren’t sure it would be enough to get Ben’s attention. He seemed too engrossed in fingering you to even hear what you were saying. But thankfully, something broke through his blinders. Suddenly, his fingers disappeared. It was followed by the sound of his pants coming down and then you felt the head of his cock against your back entrance. “Wait,” You gasped, “Wait. Lube.” Ben repeated the word lube in a grunt, shifting hips slightly so he could run his shaft along your soaked cunt. You felt him between your lips, as if he were teasing you, sliding back and forth, coating his length in your juices. A moment later, he returned to your other hole, his hands on your hips to pull your arse back onto him. Ben let out a satisfied groan as he sank into you but you were panting roughly, almost seeing stars with how good it felt to finally be filled the way you wanted to be. Once or twice your breath hitched, the discomfort of his size pushing into you exacerbated by the lack of proper lube. But it wasn’t enough to truly bother, certainly not enough to stop. The fact that just seeing your arse had made Ben snap into an animalistic, almost feral demeanour had made you impossibly horny. And you were desperate for him to fuck you properly now he was fully sheathed in your arsehole’s tight embrace. Ben moaned at the feeling, vocalising your own desire. And then he said something. “What was that Benny?” you asked, unable to comprehend him. “Fuck....arse......hngggg.....arse.....” he said though you were sure you were missing something. But as nonsensical as it was it was still hot. Knowing Ben was so desperate for this, for you, knowing you could make him babble incomprehensibly. It was insanely hot. And then he began to fuck you. You whined and brought your hand to your pussy again, finding your clit, though Ben’s frantic thrusts made it hard to keep the contact consistent.

You screamed when you came, voice tearing out of your throat as Ben roughly pounded into you, his hips almost bruising hard against your arse. It was nearly impossible for you to breathe under so much pleasure and you panted for air as the orgasm subsided. But Ben was still going, still thrusting into you furiously, grunting with the effort as he neared his own release. You gasped his name and told him to cum, trying to not get swept away by the feeling of his cock moving inside you, wanted him to keep going almost as much as you wanted to feel his semen warm you from the inside out, and drip out of you. Your request was enough to make him shudder to a halt, his hands squeezing your hips tightly as he released himself with a groan. He thrust a few more times and your limbs gave out. You felt them wobble and then collapse under you, Ben’s body pressing you into the mattress as he sank down too, still trying to fuck you.

It took you saying his name twice before he stopped though he made a reluctant sort of a sound when he realised he had to pull out. “Well if you didn’t fuck me so well you probably could have gone on a bit longer,” you laughed as he, somewhat grudgingly, pushed himself to his feet. With a satisfied groan you rolled over and stretched your arm out to grab Ben’s hand so you could pull him onto the bed too. He lay on his front, sighing as his head fell into the crook of your neck, his body resting almost entirely over yours. You were half being crushed by his weight but you enjoyed it. It was comforting and warm and you softly drew your hands over his back as you caught your breath properly. Ben was quiet as he lay there until, some ten minutes later, he suddenly pushed himself to his knees, blinking at you. His eyes still had a vaguely unfocused appearance but the more he blinked the more normal he seemed. “Are you okay?” He asked slowly. You laughed and nodded, “More than okay. Lie back down, I’m too tired to sit up.” He compiled with your request, lowering himself again but this time on his back, “I have no idea what just came over me, babe.” With a sigh you shifted to your side, propping your head up on one hand, “What do you mean?” “All I know is I saw your arse and just needed it, more than anything else, more than air, I just wanted you.” “Gotta admit, it was a little unexpected,” you lay your palm on Ben’s chest, his skin still flushed and warm to the touch, “But ummmm, definitely didn’t hate it.” His hand landed gently on top of yours, holding you against his heart, “Did I use any lube at all?” “Only spit and my cum.” “Fucking hell. Are you sure you’re okay?” “It’s fine Benny. If I’d needed anything else I would have made you stop. If I’m honest....kind of made it hotter.” “Babe!” “Not in a weird way! I’m not going to let you get away without lube all the time.” You laughed, “Just knowing you wanted me so badly was nice.” “I always want you badly.” You patted Ben’s chest softly, your heart fluttering, “Does that mean you’d want to eat my arse again another time?” “You liked it?” “Well you were very thorough.” Ben groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes which just made you laugh again. “I did enjoy it,” you said softly, deciding to put him out of his misery, “Wasn’t necessarily expecting it but it felt really good.” “Well that’s something. I still don’t understand what just happened though.” “What’s that saying...Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?”

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

#my writing #my fics #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy smut #kinktober 2021

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yunkiwii · 3 years

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—i miss you even when you're here—

pairing: bf!seungmin x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, established relationship

wc: ~2.7k

warnings: feeling of abandonment, loneliness, stress, insecurities

⇢ requested by @leihey ♡ i hope this lives up to your expectations!

summary: for seven days y/n has been feeling lonely as her boyfriend spends all his time either at work or thinking about work.

You turn your alarm off without even looking at it, huffing before reaching your arm to the left side of the bed, and the way it lands straight out into the wrinkled sheets with a muffled sound confirms what you expected but still hoped wouldn't happen today - waking up alone.

For the past week Seungmin would get home late to a long asleep girlfriend at their shared bed, and a plate of cold food on the kitchen table. On the other hand, you would wake to an already empty bed and a faint memory of a forehead kiss, one you wondered if it were real or just a lucid dream.

For seven days you have spent your time either at work or alone at home, carefully thinking what meal would cheer up your boyfriend the most after a long stressful day at JYPE, missing the way he would always cut the onions because he knew you were more sensitive than him to the burning feeling in your eyes and would cry easily, missing how the kitchen always felt so small for the two of you to cook together, his hands constantly on your waist as a way to tell you to "scootch over", not wanting to interrupt his singing to tell you verbally.

For seven days you have been cooking alone, cooking for someone you didn't know would show up in time or not. And whenever he did - he didn't - being his presence merely physical, greeting kisses placed on your cheeks, lips and forehead in a mechanical way, a force of habit. For seven days your kitchen felt too big, too quiet and the onions made you cry more than usual.

At the eighth day you couldn't take it anymore, and when you heard the doorknob of your front door creaking, just as you were setting the table - for two -, you had to take three deep breaths, the words you had organized and planned out started to get mixed up in your brain, creating a mess you couldn't control anymore and so, as soon as you see Seungmin entering the kitchen you can only say three words, "I love you."

"I love you too, silly." he chuckles as his lips peck yours quickly, "Is that what you wanted to talk to me about so desperatly?", he waves his phone, referring to the text you sent him earlier. He didn't look annoyed at you for making him come home earlier than it was usual lately, but he still seemed off, and the bags under his eyes screamed "exhaustion" the same way the marks your tears left on your cheeks did too.

You watch him as he eats, unable to do so too yourself, the lump in your throat growing as you hear Seungmin's muffled voice thanking you for the meal with his mouth full and a light squeeze on your thigh. And you wondered if you were being unfair, if you were being selfish, because he was allowed to be stressed about his work, he was allowed to not be at his best all the time, and it wasn't his fault he had to stay until late at night at work. But it was his fault that he couldn't leave work when he got home, that he couldn't put his phone down and ask how your day was, to just take ten minutes of his day to just be with you, and you only. And you were allowed to miss him, miss his touch, miss the way he held you tightly at the end of the day while you watched the most random tv show together, because it wasn't the show that matter but each other's company.

And, without realizing it, you had already spilled all of this to him before the kitchen dropped dead silent again, and everything went blurry. You couldn't even see his face, not until his hands cupped your cheeks and his thumbs cleaned your tears as you mumbled quietly, "I'm sorry, I- I just miss you."

"But I'm right here (y/n)...", he pulls your chair closer until your knees touch, taking your hand in his while the other lifts your chin so your eyes meet, "Let's go on a date tomorrow, yeah? I'll get off earlier and pick you up. You'll wear that fancy outfit you've had in your wardrobe for ages, and I'll put on a nice suit and tie. What do you say?"

And in the eighth night you went to bed feeling a little warmer inside, his back turned to you didn't hurt as much now that your hand rested on his side and his shirt was worn by you. Knowing - hoping - that tomorrow will be better, you fall deep into dreamland as soon as you shut your eyes.

However, you couldn't help but to feel abandoned again when, hours later, a cold breeze hits your stomach and arms, making you mumble something in your sleep as you try to recover whatever was blocking that breeze before. One of your hands gets a grip of a soft fabric that seems too heavy to pull back down next to you, leaving your sleepy self whining for the owner of said fabric not to leave again.

"I will be back later, don't forget I'll pick you up for dinner. Go back to sleep now, (y/n)."

But how could you forget about dinner with him when, for the last eight days it was all you were longing for, and for the nineth day it was all you could think about?

Said day passed by slower than ever, an illusion caused by the clear anticipation you felt about the upcoming night. Anticipation addressed by your colleagues at work, who wondered what has sent your head into cloud 9 and your right leg into a fidgeting state, unable to stay still.

These same nervous actions continued at home, the funny feeling in your stomach resembling the very first date you had with Seungmin a few years ago, back when you were still a college student and he wasn't as busy as now. The same thoughts you had that day invading your restless mind again, "What if he doesn't like me (anymore)?", "What if he thinks I am (got) boring?", "What if my outfit doesn't fit?".

With that last thought you rush to your bedroom - but not without tripping on the first step of the staircase - to, in desperate clumsy movements, try out the said outfit you've been wanting to wear for so long, the one Seungmin got you for a "special date" months ago, one that never happened. But it did fit, it fitted better than ever and when you saw your reflection in the mirror even you fell in love with the person in front of you, the one doing little swirls with a stupid smile on her face, the person you doubted to be yourself. And, suddenly, you felt like everything would be alright, everything would go back to normal, maybe things would get even better than before, "there is no way he'll fall out of love for me when I look like this" was your first thought.

But he didn't even seem to notice your appearance, he didn't seem to notice you at all, he simply picked you up at the agreed time with a peck on your lips and one single rose in hand. All he did was drive you - in silence - to the fanciest restaurant in town, leave you alone at the table about three times to pick up the phone - "it's from work, I'm sorry" -, pay for both your meals and drive you back home.

And it took him to hear the quiet sobs you so hardly tried to keep in, while laying as far away as possible from him that you had to secure yourself from falling over the edge, to realize what he had been doing to you, to finally figure out how much he has been hurting you. And in that moment his sobs could be heard too. The realisation and guilt hit Seungmin like a truck and he couldn't move. He couldn't believe how he had let his stress and excessive work load affect you too. He couldn't believe he had reached a point to where he brought work home, one thing he had promised you he would never do. And his chest tights up a bit more when he realises you never got mad at him for breaking his promise, and breathing gets difficult when he faces you - your back.

"(Y/N)...", and your stomach drops five feet down at his cracked, low tone, and "I'm so sorry..." was all he could say before bursting into silent tears once more.

However, you were too hurt to face him, and the burn in your eyes increases when you feel the mattress sink behind you before a warm hand rests on your waist, but you don't push him away.

The nineth night was his the turning point, and Seungmin swore to your asleep self - and to himself - that the next morning would mark a new beginning.

And in the first morning you pretended to be asleep when his hand took a few strands of hair off your face, his lips barely touched your skin and his voice broke your heart, "see you later". And you held your breath until the bedroom door closed and stood still until the front door locked. But it took longer today, and in between these two moments you heard noise in the kitchen, and within a few minutes a nice smell made its way into your hiding place, as if it was trying to lure you to give in and face your boyfriend. But not even your grunting stomach stopped you from waiting to hear his car drive off to get up. And when you did, the curiosity took over you. He never cooks in the morning, and he never leaves this late. Something was changing after all.

Hence, in the first night, you shifted your body to face him when he quietly climbed in bed next to you, your left cheek pressed against your hands as a weak smile greeted the tired boy, "I appreciated the breakfast." Nevertheless, you didn't reach out to pinch his cheek the way you used to, though you had the urge to do so when his own lips drew a smile and his eyes got lost in his cheeks.

In the second morning you didn't pretend to be asleep and you didn't wait for the car to leave. In the second morning you sat at the kitchen table with Seungmin and, because he knew it would take you time to go back to him, he didn't force a conversation, he didn't force skinship, he merely held your hand and squeezed it lightly. And you knew he was trying, you knew he would try and wait until you were ready to trust him again, to give him your heart again.

Day by day you would slowly give him little pieces of you, by sharing the most small and insignificant stories of your day, by letting him hold your hand at night, by sharing earpods with him on the couch when you couldn't fall asleep, by letting him try and do all the things he shouldn't have stopped doing in the first place.

But it took you seven days and seven pieces to trust him with your heart again. Therefore, on the seventh day, as the the sunbeams peaked through the poorly closed shutters and reflected on Seungmin's bare shoulders, you couldn't help yourself from admiring him and, for the first time in seven days, you felt warm inside. The butterflies you used to feel the first times you woke up next to him were back, and were more annoying than ever.

You let yourself study all his features attentively, scanning all his perfect imperfections, letting yourself fall for him all over again - not that you think you ever fell out of love, but rather disconnected from it, and him.

He flinched and mumbled confused words, and you couldn't help but to smile and giggle softly at how silly your sleepy, drooling nonense-speaking boyfriend looked. This time, you gave in to the urge of pinching his cheek tenderly as to not wake him up, and you left your hand resting there as your thumb rubbed his soft skin.

As you were feeling your eyes becoming heavy again, your thumb stopped the movement and your hand slid down a bit. Your body relaxing more and more, until a ticklish feeling pulled you back to the "here and now", just to find Seungmin kissing the palm of your hand with his eyes still closed before pulling you closer to him, making you wince and giggle when his warm breath hit your ear and his raspy voice gave you his "good morning's".

He moved his body sloppily, hitting you with his elbow before comfortably positioning half of his body on top of yours, resting his head on the crook of your neck as he held you tightly by your waist, as if he were afraid you would run away.

"I missed you Seungmin, I missed you even when you were here." Your fingers got lost in his messy hair as you spoke, his grip on you grew tighter and you felt the tears peaking in the corner of your eyes. "You hurt me... and I thought about leaving you before you left me first."

For the first time you were letting him know how you truly felt, for the first time you were opening yourself up to him without any ounce of shame or fear. And this was your turning point. This was the moment you both knew you were back, ready to mend all the wrongs and the scattered pieces of your hearts that were left all around the house. "But everyone makes mistakes. And I know you have been trying, and-", Seungmin shifts his body once more, supporting himself with his hands as he is now hovering over you with his eyes locked in yours, a restless look in his face worried about what you would say next, and suddenly you feel shy, "What I mean to say is, I forgive you. I choose to stay and love you even if my mind won't let me believe that you love me back, I will trust you and your actions. So please don't let my mind trick me again, don't give it reasons to doubt your love for me unless you don't feel it anymore."

You pull his hair back waiting for a reaction, leaving your hand to rest behind his neck ready to pull him in for a kiss, the first real kiss in sixteen days. But you wait for what it feels to be an eternity, until he breaks the silence and mends the last piece of your heart when he reassures his love for you and vows to reassure you every single day until the rest of your lives.

And when you finally pull him in he loses balance and falls on top of you, his forehead hits your nose and just like that the house is filled up with laughter again, the onions don't make you cry anymore, the kitchen shrank and the fancy dates became late night movie marathons with you snuggled on Seungmin, or Seungmin snuggled on you, until you were far too tired to walk upstairs, leading to countless nights spent on the tiny couch and countless mornings with complaints about aching bodies but happy souls.

nets: @k-library @ficscafe @k-dinernet @districtninewriters

taglist: @dreamwrld @su-lix @bobateastay @leihey @serialee @hyunsluvv

⇢ let me know if you want to be added to the taglist ♡

#klibrary #ficscafe #kdiner #districtninewriters #seungmin x reader #seungmin angst #seungmin fluff #seungmin oneshot #seungmin imagine #seungmin fanfic #stray kids scenarios

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stormgardenscurse · 3 years

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A Solstice Ball (Lilia Vanrouge)

About: Lilia x Reader (gender neutral) where Diasomnia invites you to spend the holidays with them back home, including the celebration of the winter solstice.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.6k

The Valley of Thorns, despite its rather prickly name, is a place that shines with an otherworldliness unique to itself.

It’s the same kind of timeless beauty that you’ve come to associate with Diasomnia. Even Silver, who is not fae himself, wields the aura. You’re a little jealous that they’d grown up in such a place, where mountains were aplenty and stars glittered clearer than you’ve ever seen.

And when you’re wandering around the hallways on a sleepless night, said stars lend you their company. It’s easy to gaze out of the windows since there are plenty flanking the walls. You’re currently staying in the castle and home of your friends, who were generous enough to invite you to celebrate the winter solstice together.

It’s tradition for the royal family to host a ball welcoming the Sun after a night of festivities - meaning the event would be run for almost twelve hours, starting with the evening and continuing into the next day, where the guests would eventually transition from the ballroom into the main gardens to witness the sunrise together. Malleus, for the past years, has been responsible for the ‘welcoming’, which according to Sebek was a magnificent sight, but Lilia insisted you not be spoiled of the details just yet, wanting you to witness it yourself.

Recounting the events that lead up to now helps calm your mind a bit, but the effect falls away briefly when you notice a figure walking down the hall toward you. While it’s unlikely they pose any danger to you, the suddenness of it spikes your heartbeat nevertheless. Many fae are undoubtedly graceful and agile in their movements, so it wouldn’t be a surprise to not have caught the noise of footsteps at first.

However… This person is entirely soundless, and it’s only when you catch a glimpse of pink-dyed strands that you realise why.

Lilia settles into a kind smile as he nods at you in greeting, making his way to you. “Is something keeping you up, Y/N? I never took you for one to wander about at night.” He holds his chin to ponder it for a second. “Though young people do tend to retire to bed at later times...”

“You say that as if your sprightly self doesn’t do the same.” You shake your head, lips lifting amusedly. “Between your liking for strolls and gaming habits, I sometimes wonder how you find the energy to cause trouble.”

Lilia chuckles, “I suppose that was deserved, for my prank on poor Silver. He usually doesn’t express himself too explosively, so it’s always a treat to be gifted with the sight.”

“...If only that wasn’t at the cost of his risotto.” You lend him a scolding look, albeit jokingly. “He was looking forward to it too - Silver may never recover from the shock, poor guy.”

“The experience is sure to be a valuable one.” His eyes glimmer like garnets, and you’re suddenly reminded of their dark-red hue. Mysterious and lively, and somehow communicating a depth forged through his long-lived life. “A knight has to be alert after all, both on and off the battlefield.”

“...I suppose so. And knowing how dedicated those two are, they likely accepted that excuse?”

“Indeed.” Lilia looks out of the window and at the landscape beyond. Part of you feels like he’s reminded of a memory, from the fondness in his expression. “Sebek and Silver are reliably hard-working. Even if they are mere hatchlings as of now, they will surely prove formidable someday. I hope you’ll be there to cheer them on when that time comes.”

“Of course, I look forward to seeing them grow.” Your smile grows warm at the thought. “They want to make you and Malleus proud after all. Their resolve burns brighter than most their age.”

A comfortable silence fills the air, and you notice Lilia’s posture loosening a bit more. His gaze turns to meet yours, light and content. “Malleus and I have regretfully been busier with the ball’s preparations, but I promise to take you to our favourite places once this is over with.” Lilia makes a small gesture toward your hand, to which you give a nod, allowing him to interlace your fingers and place a kiss to the back of it. “It’ll be fun to show you around our hometown. There are some things you can only experience in the Valley of Thorns after all~ Like that shop that sells enchanted sweets! I’ve been meaning to make a stop there before we return to Night Raven College.”

Your lips quirk as you raise a brow at him. “Why is it that you sound more excited for that than the ball tomorrow? Just before break, you were reminiscing of the winter solstices you attended in the past.”

“While the event is an annual one, it is the first time you’re spending the holidays with us.” Lilia winks at you playfully. “That, I am more excited for. And seeing what attire the fairies have come up for you - It’s not often they take to someone and mend them an outfit, after all.”

“Please don’t remind me…” You groan at the memory. “When they took my measurements they wouldn’t stop arguing about the colors. And at the end they never settled on a decision, so I’m left in suspense!”

Lilia laughs at your mournful expression. “This group is known for their craft, so it’ll certainly be worth the wait. Both for you and me.”

“Oh?” You narrow your eyes playfully. “So you’re looking forward to that.”

“A chance to see you more stunning than usual is always one I’d be interested in,” Lilia counters without missing a beat. “I just have to be sure no one else steals you away from the ball before I can - There was something I’d wanted to show you tomorrow.” He gives your hand a light squeeze, eyes bright. “The surprise will be around midnight, so please bear with it until then.”

“I’ll try,” you laugh as he presses a light kiss to your cheek. “Tomorrow is going to be a busy day, huh?”

Looking back, truer words couldn’t have been spoken. Right from the moment you awoke till right before the ball, you were constantly moving about preparing your attire and helping the others run small errands, like delivering a message or checking on the status of the main hall.

The venue was pretty before, but now that guests have trickled in and the night has begun to celebrate, the entire place transformed into a magical sight.

Despite the late hours the event has journeyed into, the room is lit just like any other time of the day. The lighting helps keep you active, thankfully, while the crowd seems to never tire; dancers exchange partners while others conversed at another side of the ballroom. The melody that lives in the air takes turns being magically played and performed by musicians, though the transitions are so practiced and quick that you barely notice until later on.

To your surprise, you find yourself at no short of stamina throughout the night. Perhaps it’s the shared energy in the room, the refreshments, or the entertaining chats you’re led into, but time flies as swift as a bird.

From some spellwork, flowers that glow like stars float above the crowd, reminding you of lanterns. On occasion the odd one would wrap into itself and descend onto the crowd, by which a guest could catch it, watching the enchanted bud unravel and bloom. It would then start to shine, before drifting off into the air like a feather caught in a breeze.

Throughout the night the flowers take turns falling onto the crowd, earning the attention of those nearby with their soft but colorful hues. You’re starting to suspect the intervention of a friend as the shadow of one floats above you; the third one this night.

Despite receiving them multiple times, the sight of petals unfurling so gracefully never ceases to put you in a state of awe. This time it is one of gentle lavender, though tinged with hints of blues and pink. It’s unexpectedly light to the touch compared to its size, which is just a little smaller than your head.

The bloom eventually starts to float out of your grasp, by which you give it a little push into the air as it rejoins the sea of flora. A familiar face approaches you from within the crowd, his gaze lending itself to the sight above before settling on you.

“It seems that the flowers enjoy your company as well,” Lilia jokes, before extending a hand for you to take. He begins to lead you somewhere, sending a small smile your way. “People say that receiving them repeatedly is an auspicious sign.”

You hum thoughtfully, “I was starting to think that the places that they landed are being controlled by magic. Sebek and Silver were there the first time, then Malleus at the second…”

Lilia grins almost proudly, the tips of his fangs showing. “Third time’s the charm~ I’m glad to have witnessed you carrying that flower. It was a fitting sight, especially with your attire.”

“I still can’t quite believe it.” You admit, looking down at the fabric - it feels weightless on your skin, yet is still woven with such detailed patterns. “The fairies really outdid themselves, this feels like something out of a fairytale… I feel a little bad keeping it.”

“Well, seeing as it was a gift, you have every right to have it as a keepsake of tonight.” He reminds you, pushing a door open. It wasn’t the main one that guests entered through, but another on the side of the ballroom. The air is quieter out here, save for the castle staff that would cross the corridor every now and then.

With every step away from the ballroom, Lilia starts to shed away his formal stance and shrugs off the feeling of the party behind. He sighs a little, sounding more tired of the situation than physically exhausted. The fae catches your amused look as he raises a brow in return, his smile more mischievous and relaxed - just like his usual self, outside of events like these. “Oh? What an expression you’re making. Do I have something on my face?”

“Not quite.” You mirror his tone. “But rest assured I’ll let you know if you do~ I have a question though, where exactly are we heading?”

“The gardens,” Lilia informs as your arms loop together. It’s less of a childish act and more reminiscent of a knightly escort - perhaps it’s because you’re in a castle and just left a ball, but you’re starting to see more and more noble qualities in the things he does. “I’ve been wanting to show it to you for sometime, but now seems like the most appropriate chance. It does offer a view of Malleus’ welcoming later on, so we’re free to stay until the end of the event.”

“You still never told me much about it,” you muse lightheartedly, “You overestimate my patience, Lilia. I’m growing curiouser by the minute.”

“In that case…” He’s led you to an outdoor garden on the upper floors, which extends into a balcony that overlooks the grounds. “Would this do for now? It’s one of my favourite spots in the castle,” he chuckles, “I hope you'll enjoy it.”

How unfair. There were flowers of every kind dotting the bushes and growing into overhangings. With this amount of space, you felt like it could pass for an attraction in itself. It was different from the grandness of the ballroom decorations, but held its own with its serene charm. Lilia takes your reaction as a sign of agreement. He chuckles and bows toward you, offering his palm.

“May I have this dance?”

You both start a simple one, more for the sake of enjoying yourselves and the cool air than trying to show off any moves. Although this doesn’t stop Lilia from adding a few twirls and steps to the rhythm as he hums softly, a tune that you swear you’ve heard before but couldn’t pinpoint where or when.

You wonder aloud of how your limbs hadn’t started to tire from the festivities, to which Lilia explains that the refreshments from the ball are suited to help replenish energy and revitalize the body, due to the sheer length of the event. The topic flows to other things, like an ice cream parlour he’d like to visit with everyone and how you’re adjusting to Twisted Wonderland. At this point the dance has also broken off into a simple stroll about the gardens.

Eventually you’re interrupted by the sound of doors opening and the chatter of guests.

"The sunrise." Lilia confirms in response to your questioning gaze. The two of you make your way to the balcony for a better view, where you can see Sebek and Silver accompanying Malleus to an open space that's elevated like a stage of sorts. Gargoyles guard the marble platform at its feet, though their presence is no comparison to the prince's, who stands facing his back to the crowd.

You briefly see the glint of a gem as Malleus waves his magic-pen in a swift motion, summoning a plant from the ground.

Or perhaps… It was more accurate to say that he grew it right before your very eyes, shaping the branches of what you realise to be a tree to form a circular frame of sorts. You doubt that any old magician could perform such a feat in mere minutes, judging by its sheer size.

Lilia smiles from beside you like a proud parent, though it edges into a smirk as he briefly mentions that this tree was more elaborate than last year's with its patterns. You're left confused for a moment before realising that it indeed has spiral carvings throughout its trunk and branches, ones that depicted the sun and moon, and even illustrating dancing figures and musicians. It held the story of the winter solstice and the ball that celebrated it, and you're left with your breath stolen from such a sight.

Yet the star of the show (quite literally, in a sense) only makes its appearance soon after - the Sun rises from the horizon and peeks between the mountains in the distance, accurately falling into the frame that Malleus created with the tree. He waves his hand once more, taking the moment to expand the light like a fracture.

You hear a chuckle from beside you as you shield your vision from the brightness. As soon as you lower your hand you notice a ball of light remaining where the Sun had passed, like a star captured in the frames of the oak. It still shone with a youthful light, as if daring its surroundings to challenge its worth.

"How temperamental," Lilia echoes your thoughts bemusedly. "I expect this year's tree to shine longer than the last ones."

The crowd bursts into applause as Malleus steps down from the stage. You're about to ask Lilia something when you suddenly realise how close his face was to yours.

"Is this another tradition?" You ask, studying his eyes.

"There is a saying about it, yes." Upon your answering smile, Lilia starts to lean in closer, a hand cupping your cheek. "Sharing a kiss with someone at the welcoming of the Sun is a good luck charm of sorts."

You can't help but laugh after pulling away, lips tingling from the contact. For someone mischievous, Lilia liked to use oddly innocent excuses to steal moments of affection. "Happy winter solstice, Lilia."

"May a fortuitous time be ahead." He returns, smile content. "I'm glad you're here to spend it with us."

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whumpmatsus · 3 years

Note

Why hello there new blog. 👀 I shall watch with interest. Would it be fine to ask for Karamatsu with a bad stomachache/similar?

hehe, I hope you enjoy watching!

and YES of course! God I'm such a Karamatsu girl 😩

We've got some of everything here, I think? Oops All Matsus! XD ... but the Choukeimatsu is definitely strong in this one haha

enjoooooy! <3

It’s kind of a given that in a house with six brothers in close quarters, anything one of them catches is going to end up running its way through all of them.

It’s… less of a given that Karamatsu is going to be the one who recovers last.

Most of the time he’s the first one to push through it, seemingly via sheer power of will because he wants to take care of the others. Or, at least, he’s not usually the one still down for the count when everyone else is on the mend.

This time around, he’s been curled up on the couch since all of them woke up this morning. They’re all feeling fine, while he’s apparently still feeling like crap.

He’s set himself up with a wastebasket nearby and he’s refused everything his brothers have tried to shove down his throat ― water, food, even medicine is turned away. They all might think he’s just being stubborn if not for the fact that he’s so clearly still sick. Regardless, they’ve stopped trying to offer since they know he isn’t going to take any of it.

As far as Karamatsu himself is concerned, if whatever sickness he’s got is going to kill him, he wishes it would hurry up and do so already. He doesn’t know how much more he can take. There’s an uncomfortable, cramping heat in his belly that’s constantly threatening to flip into something much worse. He’s been vomiting for a couple days now, on and off, like the rest of his brothers. Unlike them, however, it hasn’t gotten much better for him.

He tries so hard to be cool and unbothered. This is starting to worry him, though. How come everyone else is back to normal while he continues to struggle not to puke at the mere thought of plain rice?

For as much as Totty claims to hate germs, the youngest has been camping out next to the couch most of the morning, playing on his phone. It affords Karamatsu a view of the games Totty’s playing and the videos he’s watching; distractions as he tries to keep himself from tossing what little there is left to toss in his stomach. He isn’t sure whether or not Totty planned it that way, just that he’s grateful for something else to focus on other than the unbearable nausea.

“Heyyyy, Karamatsu-nii-san,” he suddenly speaks up, holding the phone closer to his miserable older brother’s line of sight. “What do you think of this pretty girl? Is her dress the right color for winter? It’s cute, but, I don’t know… I think maybe she would have looked better in blue…”

Now, Karamatsu isn’t sure what it is about the video clip Totty is showing him. It might be the bright lights in the background, or it might be the twirling motions the woman on the screen is making. Or, quite frankly, it might be nothing at all, since he feels so horrible.

But only a few seconds after he squints at the video clip, his stomach rebels against something. Although he wants to reply to his dearest younger brother, the second he parts his lips to give a clever retort, he feels his stomach clench. Saliva pools in his mouth, and he quickly raises a hand up to his face.

He swallows once. Twice. Three times. He tries to take a breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth like Choromatsu taught him. Nothing helps, because he ends up gagging anyway.

Immediately Totty yelps and launches himself away from the sofa. All the noise, particularly Karamatsu’s heaving, catches the attention of the rest of the sextuplets. Soon enough, someone has hurried over to hold the wastebasket beneath him, and someone else is using what feels like all their strength to help prop him over it so he doesn’t miss.

A brief glance up reveals that the one holding him is Jyushimatsu ― of course, he’s the most coordinated of them all ― and Choromatsu is playing trashcan jockey. Karamatsu’s head swims again, and that small motion is all that’s needed for his stomach to protest again. He retches a few times before whatever is left, which can’t be much at this point, splatters into the can.

“Totty!” he can hear Choromatsu scolding the youngest. “W-what the hell was that for?!”

“What was what for?!” Totty retorts. “I was trying to cheer him up! It’s not my fault!”

Ichimatsu snickers from his spot in the corner. “Che, so you made Shittymastu sick by trying to help. Sounds about right for you.”

“Excuse me?! You take that back or I’ll post that video of you being a drunk asshole online so everyone can laugh at my big, dumb brother!”

“HEY!” It’s Osomatsu who quiets the entire room with one sharp word. He’s knelt next to the couch, one hand trying to keep Karamatsu’s hair out of his face. “Would you guys all shut the fuck up? For God’s sakes, let the poor bastard puke in peace! The last thing he needs is to hear you douches arguing while he’s giving the trashcan a new coat of paint!”

For his part, Karamatsu appreciates his older brother standing up for him when he’s unable to do so himself. It’s just a little hard to convey that when his body is trying to bring up everything he’s eaten ever in his life.

It hurts, too. The sensation in his stomach is tight now, painful like there’s a knife stuck in his middle. Every gag makes a stabbing, all-over pain spiderweb through his whole body. As if he’s made of porcelain and something is repeatedly making cracks.

Finally he thinks it should be over, because nothing else is coming up. He shudders and heaves and it doesn’t produce anything other than an uncomfortable ache in his throat. Honesty, his entire body is aching now.

He lets out a few ragged breaths before slumping back onto the sofa, predictably pulled into a more-careful-than-usual Jyushimatsu hug. “It’s okay, Karamatsu-nii-san! I’ve got you!!”

“Aaah.” Karamatsu lifts his hand and places it, shaking, on his little brother’s head to praise him for a job well done. “Jyushimatsu… I’ll leave it to you… to tell my Karamatsu girls… I loved them…”

He hears Ichimatsu scoff. “You should be more worried that you were puking without puking than your nonexistent fangirls, you dumbass.”

“Yeah, that was weird,” Osomatsu agrees. “You heard that too, Ichimatsu?”

“Mhm. It almost made me want to hurl again.”

“Yeah… he should be better by now. I mean, we’re all fine. And he hasn’t been eating, so it’s not like there’s anything left in there. What’s his stupid body trying to throw up? His Goddamn kidneys?”

Karamatsu hears Choromatsu groan. “Oh, my God, you guys are disgusting!” When Karamatsu looks up, the third eldest is hovering over him with a concerned expression. “Ah… they… might be right, though. Karamatsu-nii-san… you’re just as sick as we all were at the beginning of this. It doesn’t seem like you’ve improved like we have. How… do you feel now? Any better since you threw up?”

He tries to laugh. It comes out sounding more like a sob, though. “N… no…” It feels like even too deep a breath will tip the scale on his nausea and cause another avalanche. “I’m… I’m dizzy… it still hurts.”

“A-ah, gosh…” Choromatsu’s hand sets lightly against Karamatsu’s cheek, then neck, and if his face is any indicator, he doesn’t like what he feels. “You’ve… still got a fever. And you’re sweating and lightheaded and… still throwing up. Shit.”

He moves his hand to gently card through his big brother’s hair as if trying to reassure him. “Karamatsu-nii-san… d-do you think you could make it to the doctor? If we helped you?”

That’s not an idea he enjoys entertaining. Having to get up off the couch, bundle up in a coat, ride the train… it sounds so exhausting. He’s already tired. But… if Choromatsu is even bringing it up, he must think it’s a better idea than Karamatsu continuing to try and recover on the couch.

He manages a nod. “Sure… sure, if you help me.”

“Great.” Choromatsu straightens up and heads for the door. “I’ll go call the office and see if they can get you an appointment today. If they can, I’ll go with you, and…” He surveys the rest of the room. “… I’d prefer at least onemore person go with us, just in case.”

“Yeah, I’ll go, no problem.” The eldest’s voice is one Karamatsu didn’t expect to hear, though maybe he should have. Osomatsu is still lingering on the floor next to him, taking the spot where Totty was, and, now that Karamatsu thinks about it, he can feel his older brother gently rubbing his shoulder. “… Do you think maybe we should try to force him to drink something, too? You can’t survive without water, right?”

Choromatsu sighs; not necessarily because it’s one more thing to add to the list, but it sounds like he’s just worried. He probably doesn’t want to force one of his brothers to do anything ― especially one of his big brothers, and especially when said big brother is already so sick. “I mean… yeah, it’s not good that he hasn’t had anything to drink today, and not much in the last few days. Throwing up so much is probably making him dehydrated… which, stupidly enough, can make him throw up more.”

Osomatsu hums in thought and gives Karamatsu’s shoulder a small squeeze to get his attention. “Hey, Karamatsu. Do you think you could handle some tea?”

“Really weak tea,” Choromatsu hurries to clarify. “You’re not supposed to drink anything too intense after throwing up.”

Karamatsu shuts his eyes in a desperate bid to avoid the worried, pleading faces of his brothers looking back at him. Just thinking about anything going into his body and sliding down his throat right now makes his stomach swirl viciously.

He feels Jyushimatsu hug him a little tighter, which doesn’t help matters. “Aww, please, Karamatsu-nii-san! You can drink some tea for your little brother, right? Riiiiight?”

A groan is what he gets in response, though the giggling suggests he isn’t too broken up about it.

His hair is brushed back, and stroked through a few times. “Well,” Osomatsu says softly, “how about for your big brother, then?”

After a moment of thought, Karamatsu lets out a whimper, leaning his head closer that way in an obvious attempt for more affection. “I… suppose I do only have one older brother, after all…”

He hears Choromatsu chuckle by the door. “Good, good. I’ll make some, then. We’ll try not to make you drink too much… and… I’ll call the doctor while I boil water for it. Hopefully they can fit you in. In the meantime, just, um… try to rest, alright?”

At the very least, he doesn’t have to tell Karamatsu twice. The second eldest relaxes, keeping his eyes shut. He hears Osomatsu quietly urge Jyushimatsu to switch positions, and he scoots himself up onto the couch. Somehow he manages to pull Karamatsu into his lap, letting his younger brother curl up against his stomach.

“Hey, there. It’s okay. Big brother’s gotcha, Kara.” A careful touch runs up and down Karamatsu’s back, bringing the slightest sense of relief. “Get some sleep.”

Then Osomatsu pauses, and with a laugh he adds, “Just… warn me if you’re gonna puke again, okay?”

#Osomatsu san #whump #Karamatsu #vomiting #fever #Osomatsu #Choromatsu #Ichimatsu #Jyushimatsu #Totty #aaaaaaaa tHEY'RE ALL TRYING sort of #one single effort was collectively made XD

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sideblogformindtrash · 3 years

Text

SUMMER OF WHUMP - DAY 5 - BROKEN

@summer-of-whump, @cowboy-anon, @milk-carton-whump, @getyourwhumphere, @lave-whump, @cupcakes-and-pain, @justabitofwhump, @tears-and-lilies, @pinkraindropsfell

Star and Stunt, collab with @unicornscotty

CW: panthom pains; long-lastin injury; pet whump; extremely low self-esteem; comparing to other people; permanent injury; separation anxiety; dehumanization

It was still early in morning. He was on the floor of the shared bedroom, while Castor napped on the bed. There were two of them, but he knew better than to believe in that trick. He should be in a cage or on the floor, and brother in bed. It was the way things had always been, the way things would always be.

He couldn’t help but whimper a bit when he heard Caretaker knocking on the door. He wanted to stay sleeping for a little longer. He felt so tired… It didn’t matter. It never mattered what Mutt- No, no. That was not his name anymore. He was now called Pollux. He needed to remember that. Brother always had different names for his work, and had to learn to be called different things on film. Mutt had only ever been Mutt, but now he was Pollux, and he had to remember it.

“Boys… When you are ready, join me in the kitchen. We need to talk” Caretaker shouted from the other side of the door. M- Pollux breathed relieved as he walked away. He had been patient, but he wasn’t sure how he would react seeing Mutt-Pollux, Pollux, Pollux - was sleeping on the rug, and not on the floor. It was a risk, but it was so cold… He had decided to take it. He wasn’t stupid enough to fall for the bed, but maybe the rug wouldn’t be so bad of a trap.

“Come…” Castor said, standing up, and stretching. He walked to the closet, trading his sleeping clothes for the pretty day ones and waiting by the door. Pollux stared from the floor. His brother sighed, rolling his eyes “...You need help getting up?”

...Pollux quietly nodded, embarrassed for asking so much out of his brother. He was selfish. But he really, really couldn’t get up by himself anymore, and he didn’t want to bother Master with such a silly thing. He got brother’s hand, and as he was pulled up, his joints and bones cracked loudly. Brother always twisted his nose to this noise, bothered, but Pollux couldn’t avoid it.

He limped after his brother, as he darted into the kitchen, smiling at their owner and making a small reverence. Pollux dragged his feet, trying to keep up with brother. He didn’t want to seem like a lazy pet. Of course he was very useless, and brother was good, but… He wasn’t lazy! He always tried.

...Not that trying was enough. Brother had no trouble doing chores, helping Master, being cute and happy and useful. Mut- Pollux, Pollux could barely move, his left hand shook constantly, and didn’t close properly anymore, he couldn’t really use it, and he was always sick and causing medical dispenses to Master, always needed medicine and soothing teas to be able to eat and Master had been so, so kind to let him have it, but he kept being bad and selfish and needing more.

He sniffed. He wondered when that pain would stop.

He should have kneel on the floor, to greet the Master, but he couldn’t. It would hurt too much and he would need help getting up, and that could be worse. He hoped Master would forgive him.

But… Master didn’t seem to be in a forgiving mood today. Their usual smile was gone, they had a serious, dark expression. Were their eyes always this red? Had Master been… crying?

Mu- Pollux swallowed, trying not to get sick, as his anxiety spiraled out of control. Was this a punishment? Master said he needed to ‘talk’. They talked to Castor. Castor was smart and a star, and people wanted to know what he thought of things and his movies and his director and life…

“Alright, boys. I need both of you to sit for this”

And Castor pulled himself a chair. Pollux got prepared to fall on the floor, but Master was quick and held him by the good wrist. It would hurt so much if it was the other one! He struggled not to flinch, closing his eyes in anticipation for the blow.

“No. On the chair, you too, Pollux. I told you, we all sit on chairs, here. That’s okay”

“S-s-sorry…” He was stupid. So stupid he couldn’t even remember Master’s rules. But… he had never been allowed on chairs, except on films.

Master sat in front of them, tapping on a glass of water. He seemed lost in thought, trying to organize his words enough for the boys to understand. Castor would get it. He was smart, a star! He got to read a lot and make intelligent characters. But Mu- Pollux was dumb. He squinted, hoping that would help him listen better. Master was so soft spoken, and that was nice for his nerves, but sometimes it was hard to listen. Only one of his ears worked now.

“Alright, first thing. I want you two now that I love both of you dearly, and equally. This was not an easy decision for me to make. It hurted me, and it will hurt you now…” Master took a deep breath. Pollux dry swallowed, on the threat of hurt… “But I’m convinced it is what you two need right now”

Castor pulled his hands from the table, straightening his posture a bit. He offered a hand under the table, and M- Pollux took it. This way, brother wouldn’t be nervous. It helped him a little bit, too.

“...One of you will… Will go live with one of my friends. I’ve already talked to them. I promise, they are very, very nice. They’ll help you recover too, and do everything for you to be comfortable” Pollux felt his throat dry. Castor pressed the grip on his hand so much it hurted. All those years, and this was the only thing no one had ever done. They had never been separated “And, this, this isn’t permanent. You two will be able to visit each other, talk on the phone or maybe write letters if you want. It’s just so… you aren’t glued all the time. It’s the best, for now”

...A tear slipped through Pollux's face, and he slipped to the floor, aching joints meeting the kitchen tiles. He didn’t want to go. He couldn’t go. He couldn’t deal with learning more rules, more Master’s, more people seeing how worthless he was. He couldn’t do anything right, who would want him? The next Master would get sick of him soon and put him on the street, and no one would want a dumb dog like him!

“P-p-please d-d-don’t… P-p-please...I.. I’ll work harder! P-please! Please don’t send me away” He struggled to get his forehead on the floor, bones cracking, spine aching. He wondered if he looked as small as he felt “Please. P-p-please, I… I’...”

He dissolved into gross sobbing. He could barely keep his begging coherent these days. He shot a desperate glance for Castor. Maybe if he begged the Master to reconsider, it could work. After all, Castor was a good pet, he deserved nice things, Master would hear him if he begged!

...Castor just stared at him blankly.

“P-please” He whispered, more for brother than for Master. He curled up as he heard Master’s chair scraping the floor, and he saw the shoes stopping in front of him. Master crouched, to grab his hair and hit his head on the floor, no doubt!

“...Pollux. It’s okay. Calm down, please” And the hand reached his hair, petting it softly “...You’ll be staying with me. My friend will come by night to take Castor”

He snapped his head up. Castor… would be the one going?

...He only heard a small, shocked gasp from brother, mimicking his own.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump5 #Star and Stunt #film whumpees #collab with unicorn <3 #pet whump

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deusluxuria · 3 years

Text

Headcanon: Jotaro Kujo: Hey Jupiter

(Warning: Stone Ocean spoilers, long-ass long post, serious as hell, eating disorder mention, smoking mention, child abuse implied, parent death)

(HC: Jotaro's wife's name: Kelly -- because i hate calling her just 'jotaro's wife' lol)

Jotaro & Kelly got along so well that people were shocked when they got divorced.

They seemed so comfortable with each other, were constantly joking around, and were excellent parents. All that despite both of them having previously thought they'd never find anyone who understood and respected them. They were both misfits.

They separated for Jolyne's sake, and they didn't get over the divorce for quite a while. It was extremely sad. Though, people who didn't know them very well made all kinds of horrible assumptions about why they got divorced. Which made it so much more painful.

Jolyne and her dad were close when Jolyne was a child. Jotaro had been looking forward to being a father one day, ever since he was a teenager. He had felt that was his purpose. He was prepared to be fully committed.

And when Jolyne came along, she was everything; the most important thing in the world. Jotaro finally understood everything his mother had felt for him and everything she'd endured for his sake. How emotional she would always get over every little thing Jotaro did.

But, eventually, Jotaro's gradually increasing distance from his family left Jolyne so hurt and angry that she never wanted any contact with him and she felt she could never forgive him. She felt she had lost her father long before he was actually separated from the family. She mourned the emotional loss of him.

Jotaro had made the mistake, from the very beginning, of constantly lying to Kelly and Jolyne, and being cagey about why he sometimes had to disappear -- he hadn't told them about Stands and how unavoidably dangerous it was to have one.

But no attacks or dangerous incidents had happened between the death of Dio, until the appearance of Kira Yoshikage.

So Jotaro never quite found out what he was in for, until after he had already gotten married and had Jolyne.

Kelly would ask him what was going on and where he kept running off to. Jotaro continued to reply, "I can't tell you."

Kelly knew Jotaro as well as she could, and was completely sure it wasn't something like an affair, or anything immoral like an involvement with the mafia. Not that it made her feel any better that it wasn't anything like that.

During Jolyne's preteen years (after she had gotten arrested at fourteen, and Jotaro couldn't be there), one day, Kelly and Jotaro mutually decided they couldn't go on like that and have that kind of tension in the house, especially with no one except Jotaro knowing what was going on.

Kelly had reminded him several times during their marriage, "I hate it when you don't talk to me."

Jotaro agreed that he wasn't going to put her and their daughter through that anymore.

Jotaro and Kelly remained friends, but not without an unbearable stretch of finding it too painful to spend time with each other. When they did hang out again, before saying goodbye, they would hug for a while in a manner as if they'd die if they let go. So many things reminded them of each other. If they had left something at one another's homes, they'd cling to that object.

Kelly had been the first person Jotaro had slept with who hadn't made him uncomfortable. (Before he met her, it took him a few awful experiences to learn that, to him, sex without love was a nightmare.) And she was the first to be open to understanding his approach to intimacy in general.

She was one of the few people who hadn't judged him as cold or emotionless because of the way he looked. She didn't make hasty assumptions.

And Jotaro had already been so tired of the closed-minded way people usually treated him. He believed that, if things didn't work out with Kelly and him, he'd finally give up at letting people in.

When they were together, Jotaro had done most of the housework, being the one who relies on a daily routine and who has the strongest need for things to be in order. But once he was on his own again, he had trouble finding a reason to keep his living space up to standard or to cook anything or pay attention to a schedule.

Shortly after the divorce, Holly died.

Kelly had already warned Jotaro that, of the two of them, he would suffer the most from their separation. Because he didn't connect with people very well. But he would've never expected himself to fall nearly as hard as he did, even if his mom hadn't died.

People at work who usually never even gave him a "how's your day going," started asking him if he was okay.

His meltdowns became different & more frequent from the ones he usually had (i.e. from Autistic sensory-overload). He would blurt out disturbingly honest things, only to regret it so badly later that he'd shut himself in the nearest isolated place and start sobbing.

He'd struggled with an eating disorder since he was a kid, but he had mostly survived it with his mom's cooking as the only thing he could always eat and keep down. As a teenager, smoking was added as another coping mechanism.

But, the emotional hell he was going through because of his separation from his family caused a particularly bad relapse. And Holly wasn't there to save him anymore. He lost an appalling amount of weight.

Holly's funeral was a nightmare, mostly at the fault of Jotaro's dad, who made a spectacle of it. Inviting his celebrity friends and turning it into a selfish exploitation that required his security guards to be in attendance.

Jotaro secretly established a small, quiet area behind the building for everyone else. Jolyne and Kelly were there.

Jotaro left many times just to sit in his car and smoke with trembling hands -- he had successfully quit smoking back when he and Kelly had decided to have a child (causing a heightened number of eating disorder relapses), but had skyrocketed to a pack a day after his mom died.

Something broke in him that day. He could feel it. Like a canyon suddenly formed in his soul.

The last time he went back to the funeral, he went inside the building, walked up to his dad, and started waling on him. People screamed. Jotaro got a few punches into his dad's face before Kelly stopped him, holding onto him from behind and leading him away.

Jotaro had told her a few things about his father before. But not everything.

Abdul was the only person Jotaro had told. And after that conversation, Mohammed was silent for a while, and then said, "If you ever need anything, anything at all, I'm a phone call away."

After Mohammed had died, Jotaro not only couldn't muster the energy to explain the situation to anyone else, but he didn't know anyone else he trusted that deeply. Mohammed had experienced similar trauma, and knew that depth of hopelessness. He was not only the other parent that Jotaro had always needed, but he had some of Holly's likeness, with his open heart and boundless compassion.

And there was Kakyoin as well. The only friend he'd ever had that he actually felt close to. The only friend he could say "I love you" to without it feeling strange. They'd had their misunderstandings and their peeves about each other, but they were absolutely best friends.

He never connected with people at quite that level again. His friends in Egypt had been more than family. Soulmates, in a sense. Though Jotaro did find love and friendship afterwards, something about it still felt trite in comparison.

Jotaro never really recovered from his crisis with his divorce and with Holly's death. A few months after Holly died, Jotaro got a gastrostomy tube for eating disorder recovery and got the color back in his face. He at least looked like he was doing better. And he had found at least some meaning again in his cherishing of Josuke, another family member he would die for in a heartbeat.

But the depth of his loneliness; the realization of just how alone he was, awakened a suffocating dread that gnawed at him.

(Title: "Hey Jupiter" is a soul-crushing breakup song by Tori Amos)

#this b/c i never ever finish fanfiction jfc #stone ocean #jotaro kujo #jolyne kujo #jolyne cujoh #jotaro's wife #headcanon #autistic!jotaro #holly kujo #stardust crusaders #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #demipan!jotaro

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wastelandlovingscenarios · 4 years

Note

I absolutely LOVE how you write angst, I'm always looking forward to a bit of hurt lol How'd the guys(romanced) react to being hit by the berserk syringe and start attacking Sole but come back to their senses right before actually killing Sole!?

i can’t imagine any of my boys hurting sole. this is such a unique scenario and i’m absolutely here for it! i’m not proud of this but please enjoy! <3

*i’ll edit this in the morning cause a bitch is tired.

[ tw: depression/violence/blood/injuries!!! ]

never in a million years did they expect the only person they’ve ever trusted to be the reason for their death. well, not the main reason, as the berserk syringe was the cause, but the fact that they were the reason why sole had been helpless on the floor only added on. they towered over sole, who laid in their puddle of blood, gasping in immense pain as they tried to use the last of their strength to plead. sole let out soft sobs, watching as their other half pointed the pistol at their head with no sense of remorse. this wasnt the way they expected to go, not by the hands of the only person they found love in.

“st..op..” they cried, trying to find the power to reach out to him. all the memories flashed through their mind; memories of their life before the bombs dropped, the moments they spent in the wasteland, and the day they fatefully encountered one another. they refused to die this way. sole mewled out his name, begging for him to stop. and just like that, they hesitated and regained consciousness, taking a moment to ground themselves into the situation and realize the horror of it.

Danse:

this was everything he’s ever feared since sole had landed into his life. he had dreams - not many - but definitely a fair amount of his loved one dying in his arms and he feared it may have been an omen wading in the darkness waiting to come to life - and it did, just not in the way he visualized. the sight of sole bleeding out in front of him brought him to a whole new level of fear. “sole?” he choked out in disbelief, unable to move. it’d take him a minute to piece everything together as his eyes darted from the weapon in his hand, to his surroundings, then the syringe... and it hit him. “shit!” he cursed, making his way to sole hurriedly and carried them off the ground, running towards goodneighbor. he had no time to talk, to cry, nor to feel sorry for himself. sole could be seconds away from dying and it’d be the last damn thing he’ll let happen. once someone had taken sole into their care, he would absolutely refuse to leave the building without knowing their status.

danse would sit in the chair or stand impatiently for hours on end, all thoughts of doing basic human necessities, such as eating and sleeping, completely slipping his mind. the minute he was given the chance to see sole, he did nothing but that and finally let the tears spill into the palms of his hands as he sat near soles bedside. sole would take him into their arms, kissing his hair gently as they caressed his head. “it wasn’t your fault,” they repeated constantly as reassurance, “none of it was.” despite soles words, he’d continuously blame it on himself for not being more attentive and have constant nightmares about what had happened, often finding himself in tears as he jolted awake. he’d explain to sole how he didn’t deserve them and how he was afraid it might just happen out of the blue again. it would take a long while for danse to get over his actions and a lot of reassurance from sole, who was more than glad to help him through these rough times.

Deacon:

deacon had panicked many times in various situations; you name it, it’s probably happened. but this? this was a different type of panic. one that he couldn’t avoid no matter how much he tried, regardless of how many lies and jokes he told himself. he darted to sole, taking them into his arms in a panicked manner as his breathing began to release in irregular patterns. “i didn’t do this, right?” he tried to push everything away, run from the truth that obviously surrounded the two, “sole, you know i’d never hurt you, right?” his voice trembled, hands shaking as he tried to move the hair out of their face. his stained hands and clothing told him nothing but the truth- he was responsible for what happened and there was nothing he could do. when sole let out a small, “i know,” and proceeded to look up at him with a tired expression, he broke down and held them close to his body, burying his face into their neck. “i’m sorry,” he sobbed, “i’m so fucking sorry.”

once sole had made it back to hq, he practically begged carrington to do everything in his power to help them survive. it took multiple people to hold deacon back as he fought against them, not wanting to leave soles side as they were taken away to a separate room. once carrington had given him the go to visit sole, he found himself rushing to the room, nearly ripping the door open. without another word, he latched onto them, letting everything he’s ever wanted to say to them spill out within seconds. how much he loved them, how they had changed his life, and things he wouldn’t normally say on a daily basis. sole would notice how he’d become excessively clingy right after that fateful moment and notice his attempts to cheer them up through jokes or little things he did for them throughout the day. during nightfall, he’d hold them in his arms, muttering apologies to them as tears spilled from his eyes. he didn’t know if he could forgive himself.. at least not for a while.

Maccready:

he choked on his own breath, throwing the gun to the side as far as possible. memories of lucy began flooding his mind and the thought of him being alone once more with additional blood on his hands only heightened his panic. with a loud sob, he dropped to his knees and brought sole to his arms, shakily caressing their cheek. “sole, sole. hon, look at me,” he choked through his tears, trying to keep them awake. he stroked their cheek with his thumb, trying to comfort them through the pain with words, touches, anything. “don’t close your eyes. please don’t leave me.” despite the condition they were in, they opened their eyes obediently, staring up weakly at mac who continued to sob. his tears fell off his face and right onto soles cheek, washing away any blood that trailed down. “we’re gonna get you help and you’re gonna get better. you’re gonna come home with me, duncan, and shaun, okay?” his hand moved down to lock with theirs as he gave it a reassuring squeeze, “they’re waiting for us at home, remember?” sole began to tear up, intertwining fingers with mac, “tell them i love them, please.” something triggered in mac and he shook his head, lifting them from the ground and finding his way to the closest town he could find, yelling at anyone for help.

after their wounds had been treated properly, the doctor had led him to the room where he saw his other half lay in bed, all patched up and taken care of. “they will be okay. i advise letting them rest for a while and try to stray away from any physical activity until they show signs of improvement.” the man noticed how mac stared at them with tears in his eyes and he coughed, “i’ll give you a moment, sir.” the sound of the door closing behind him would ease the tension he had in his shoulders and he would lean down, pressing a kiss on soles forehead as they slept.“you hear that, hon? you’re gonna be okay.” as soon as sole made it back home with him, he’d do everything he can to ensure that sole would recover properly. mac would do all the dirty work sole usually did and checked up on them as much possible, visibly worrying to death about them. at night, he’d have a hard time sleeping with the guilt weighing on his shoulders but soles words and affection were more than enough to ease his worries.

Hancock:

to say he hated himself at that very moment was a huge understatement, this being the cherry on top of everything on his list. he knew he’d fuck it up someday, but he never expected himself to go this far. even knowing that it wasn’t his fault and the syringe was the reason why he started attacking, it didn’t change the fact that it was done by his hands. he dropped and tended to soles injuries as much as he could before taking them back to goodneighbor. hancock used everything sole possessed- stimpacks, med x, etc while whispering reassuring things to them, knowing that blaming himself won’t do anything good. when sole weakly grabs his wrist and stares at him with fear and shock, he feels all his intentions of being calm sink to the ground. “am i gonna die?” oh god. never once in their time spent together has he ever heard them say something so heartbreaking. even in the craziest situations, they would always remain hopeful. hancock dropped whatever he held and scrambled to take them into his arms, attempting to soothe their mind. “you’re not gonna die. i’m not gonna let that happen.” he reassured, “there’s no fucking way in hell i’m gonna lose you.” hancock entering goodneighbor with sole in his arms would automatically send a message to the rest of the town and they’d begin readying the medical rooms and collecting all the medical supplies that were available for dr. amaris use.

sole had been discharged eventually into hancock’s care and he’d dote on them 24/7, ensuring that all their needs were met and would go above and beyond with everything they requested. while sole slept, he’d release his anger and bottled up thoughts by taking chems or going out to shoot things to release some emotions. whenever they were awake, he’d trace the wounds with his fingers gently and kiss their skin, apologizing about his actions endlessly. “it fucking hurts to know i did this.” he mutters, “i’m the one who’s supposed to be protecting you, not fucking doing the opposite.” sole would take his hand and brush their lips over his knuckles, “you’ve always protected me, none of this was on you,” hancock watched them with soft eyes, “we’ll get through this together, alright?” the mayor would nod, sending them a sad smile, “alright.”

Nick Valentine:

one of the many who refuses to say anything, but reacts quickly in response. he has no time for mourning or apologies right now and his main priority is to get sole help, even if it means kicking someone’s door down, then so fucking be it. he immediately wraps his coat around sole and carries them to the direction of diamond city, which was thankfully nearby. he whispered things he hoped they could hear despite their unresponsiveness, and silently begged that they’d be okay. when the doctor attempted to take sole into the emergency room, they had grabbed his wrist firmly, catching nicks full attention within seconds. “n-nick, don’t leave.” they pleaded weakly, tearing up when he looked down at them with grief and concern. nick rested a hand on their cheek, placing a soft kiss on their forehead. “sweetheart, i’m never gonna leave you. once you wake up, i’ll be here. i’ll always be here.” he whispered.

“promise?” sole whimpered, their hand still wrapped around nicks wrist. “i swear on it.” he looked up at doctor sun, who was assessing the injuries quietly, “we must act fast.” nick gave him a nod of approval, slowly feeling soles fingers slip away from his touch. as nick promised, he was there the minute sole had opened their eyes. he cupped their cheeks, leaning his forehead on theirs as he let out a shaky breath. “i’m so, so sorry.” they’d shake their head and remind him that it wasn’t his choice nor did they expect it to happen. nick decided to trust their words and though it did tend to lurk in the back of his mind often, he pushed it away as much as he could. he’d definitely become more cautious the next time they would hit the road and sole would notice that his paranoia reached to a whole new level.

Preston:

this seemed too familiar. the sight of his hands full of soles blood brought him back to when quincy was attacked by the gunners. it reminded him of how much people he couldn’t save back home and it surfaced emotions he yearned to forget, only this time.. it was way worse. “no, no, no.” he weeped, taking sole into his arms, “please, please tell me it’s a bad dream.” they had never seen preston so devastated in his life as loud sobs escaped his lips. sole weakly wrapped their fingers around prestons forearm, staring up at him through half lidded eyes. “it’s okay, preston.” their voice was strained and the color draining from their face only made his cries louder. “no, it’s not okay! i can’t lose you,” he said, “i lost everything in my life. i cant lose you sole, anything but you.” and without another word, he’d hold them in his arms as he ran to get help.

he wasn’t about to repeat the events that occurred at quincy and sole wasn’t gonna be another person he couldn’t save because of his careless actions. sole was the last person he wants to let go and there’s nothing that will stop him from ensuring their safety. he would fall back into his depression during soles recovery, knowing he was responsible for what happened to them and would find it absolutely difficult to ever forgive himself. even with sole reassuring him constantly that it was okay, he’d still deny it and cry as sole held him in their arms. just like deacon and danse, it would take nearly forever for preston to let go of what happened and it would eat him up inside and out every second of the day. it would take a lot of reassurance and self trust for him to understand that there was nothing they could’ve done.

Sturges:

he’s absolutely paralyzed, the gun falling out of his fingers unconsciously as he gazed at sole who desperately called out his name. sturges stared at his hands that were painted with that gut churning red and felt himself grow dizzy, hearing nothing but static fill his ears. he was so used to seeing that black/brown fluid paint his gloves that this contrast of red and black made him feel sick. this is why he didn’t step outside the comfort of his home and why he utterly refuses to hold a weapon. soles voice would break his train of thought and he’d immediately rush over to them, realizing that sole was on an unknown time limit. seeing their face so pale and lifeless scared the absolute shit out of him, and knew that there was nothing he could do at that moment to ease their pain. sturges grabbed their bag, searching for anything and everything that could possibly help them, eventually bringing out a stimpack and jammed it into their arm. when sole let out a pained whimper, he turned to face them and held their hand gently, his voice shaky as he spoke, “i’m here, sweetheart. i ain’t going no where.” he continued searching their bag and his eyes fell on the flare that was given to them when they had gotten recruited. that’s right, sanctuary wasn’t very far off from where they were, somebody was bound to see it one way or the other. quickly, he loaded it up and pointed it upwards, pulling the trigger.

once the bright flash appeared in the sky, he crawled over to sole and propped their head on his lap as he held them close. “helps comin’, sweetheart.” he whispered into their hair, “just hold on.” after those events he conspired and sole was given proper treatment and care, he’d be unable to focus on his tasks, his mind retreating back to those horrid memories he yearned to forget. he’d become more quiet and more inconsistent with his duties as the thoughts began to stick with him more. even the sight of a weapon would trigger him, immediately paralyzing sturges as the memories began flooding back. eventually, sole would have to confront him about what had happened to truly ease his mind off the tragedy, giving him some sense of comfort that whatever had happened was out of his control.

Gage:

one moment, he was shooting down gunners left and right and now, he was on his two feet, about to do the same with the only person who’s ever given a fuck about him. he should’ve killed the fucking bastard who shot that syringe at him- gut him clean with his knife and hang him up for display. none of that mattered now, the man was long gone and dead. the only thing that did though was sole. quickly, his hands traveled throughout their body where he could spot the visible injuries and pressed against them, as if it would halt any of the bleeding. “boss, can ya’ hear me?” he felt the fear surge through him the moment they remained unresponsive, eyes closed despite his small taps on their cheek. “fuck,” he breathed, “wake the fuck up.” his voice became more desperate as he attempted to shake them awake, but when sole showed no signs of opening their eyes anytime soon, his heart dropped. “don’t think you get to fuckin’ die on me. not now.” his voice was full of anger- not at sole, but at himself - as he carried sole in his arms to bring them to the nearest infirmary he could find. ‘not ever’, he thought, going as fast as his legs could take him, ignoring the growing pain in his limbs as he did so.

the infirmary he brought sole to informed him that they were not able to take them in due to the rooms being occupied and he pointed his gun at every single one of them, an angry expression painting his face. “now, if ya don’t take them in, i’ll be sure to take care each and every one of ya,” every worker in the building swallowed nervously, raising their hands in surrender, “i don’t make any empty threats, so get goin’ or things are gonna get dirty.” the doctors swallowed nervously, nodding in agreement as they hesitently took sole from his arms. once sole was treated and given time to recover, he’d properly confront them after days of thinking to himself. gage would give a proper and heartfelt apology, guilt wading in his eyes as he spoke. if sole tried to do anything that was against the doctors orders, he’d snap at them, annoyed at their stubbornness, “dang it boss, lay the fuck down.” he’d spit, eventually letting out a sigh as he turned his back at them, “i fuckin’ got it. just say the word and i’ll do it.” he’d feel himself flush, embarrassed at his temper as sole remained quiet, “i just,” he choked on his words, “i want ya to get better. i’m the reason why yer hurt and shit, so let me do this. please.”

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theyscreamjade · 3 years

Note

Heyy can you do a Headcannon with Kirishima, Bakugou, Todoroki, and Midoriya; their S/O has eating disorder and they help her through kinda comfort, if it makes you uncomfortable you don't have to

S/O With a Eating Disorder.

Actually, My best friend had a eating disorder as well, while I dealt with my problems with self harm. I hope this makes your day and please keep trying. I know it may seem hard and it’s the best thing to do, it’s not. If you ever need someone to talk to my dear Anon, I’m here for you! I’ll Detroit Smash all those thoughts in a millisecond.

——————————————

Izuku Midoriya

* This poor sweet boy, he cares so much about you that when he finds out. He’s hurt.

* It takes him a minute to discover this and when he does, he’s heartbroken. You’ve dealt with this alone and he wasn’t there to help you.

* “Puppy? Do you have an eating disorder?”

* When he confronts you, he may be gentle about it. He’ll mention it when you two are alone and there’s no one else around. If you cry, he’ll hold you until you calm down.

* He’s usually observant of you and how you are, but he couldn’t see past that mask you often wore or how your weight decreased dramatically.

* If you decide to let him help, he’s standing beside you each part of the way. He’s throwing away every diet pill, laxative, or anything that’ll make you either sick or anything.

* From then on, he might learn how to cook or ask his mother for meals for you two.

* He’s going to be a lot more observant to you and your weight though, he might go a bit overboard but please understand he’s writing it down to keep you safe and healthy.

* His affection is going to increased to the max, if you stop and stare at a model during you two’s date. He’ll stop and look at the before kissing your cheek. “You don’t even compare to them, you’re way better than them.”

* God, He’s going to express himself through sex. Every mark, hickey, bruise, and more on your body will be a constant reminder of how much he loves you. Every time he touches it, your body just flashes that memory of him whispering every little amazing fact about you that he has in his book.

* Those anger bursts, depressive nights, the days when you can’t get up or even get dressed, just know he’s going to be there.

* I don’t doubt, he’d ask All Might what would he recommend for this situation or even recommend counseling for you so you can become that smiling beckon that kept him going again.

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

Katsuki Bakugo

* He ALREADY knew something was up.

* The moment he brought you his shirt and it didn’t fit like it normally would, he immediately suspected something.

* His suspicions were confirmed when you, him and the Baku-Squad were out at a restaurant. Mina, being the observant gal she is, asked if you were losing weight. The nail was in the coffin when you didn’t eat either, claiming you weren’t hungry though he was with you all day and you hadn’t eaten a single bite.

* Once you two leave the restaurant and we’re walking home, he just asks.

* “Do you have a problem with eating or somethin?” He’d ask, making you freeze on the sidewalk.

* Don’t try to lie to him either, it’ll make him even angrier than he was already.

* He’s not angry at you, he’s angry at himself. He’s ticked that he didn’t avoid this from happening to you. Was his insults too much? What can he do to fix the damage he thinks he’s caused to you?

* Once you two are home, please expect to have THOROUGH CLEAN home. I mean everything, Laxatives, diet pills, magazines. YEP, MAGAZINES. They’re the reason for some of the issues.

* His insults will be less frequent and he might act like a softie more around you. He's going to be a bit more affectionate too.

* I FUCKING DARE YOU to TRY and say something negative about yourself.

* I FUCKING DARE YOU.

* You will experience the wrath of Ground Zero deep in you, you’ll become a whimpering mess underneath his hold until you cry out and say how great you are.

* He’s cooking every meal, no matter how tired he is. THIS MAN MIGHT HAVE A CAST ON HIS LEG AND HE WILL BE COOKING IN THAT KITCHEN STILL.

* He’s going to track your weight every night until he feels as if he can trust you a bit more. He never lost trust in you, he knows you were swallowed by the depression that blinded you and wants you to be better again.

* He’s going to try to be patient with you, but with him it’s a three strike system. Once you’re at the third, you’re going to have to make a sacrifice. Him or your problem.

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

Shoto Todoroki

* Please know, Shoto’s not obvious to things. Of course, he noticed how different you were acting, how small your body was becoming, how you often were cold and many others.

* He just simply thought you were training harder to be better or something. He wouldn’t even bother you while you trained.

* That was until you just passed out. You passed out in front of him and his family at a family gathering and wouldn’t wake up.

* That honestly triggered the poor man.

* His brother discovered in your records, that the last normal weight you had was months back.

* His heart shattered into a thousand pieces as he starts to blame himself completely until his sister calms him down.

* While you’re still in the hospital recovering, him and Midoriya are cleaning up the home. Every last item that reminded you of the body you wanted to strive for or the imperfections that you thought you had was gone.

* When you were released, you were immediately placed on a strict diet placed from his brother and the family physician. Shoto normally doesn’t be the pushy type in these situations but..he doesn’t want to see you like that ever again.

* “I never...want to see you like that again, I thought I lost you.”

* He’s going to watch every item you eat, so you won’t either binge out or anything.

* ...the locks in the bathroom may be..gone. BUT JUST KNOW HE CARES OKAY?!

* Shoto might be a bit more affectionate with you as well, always holding you, reminding you every single day just how much you mean to him.

* This may include a SIGNIFICANT increase in sexual activities which includes him whispering in your ear about how much you mean to him and how amazing you are.

* This poor peppermint’s been through a lot.

* He’s going to be patient, All he wants is to see you well again.

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

Eijiro Kirishima

* This man’s attention to you IS ON FUCKING POINT.

* You have to realize, he dealt with confidence issues too. So when he notices how you degrade yourself in a joking way at first. He’ll try to boost you up with his love for you.

* But when he notices how much smaller you were and how your clothes seemed to be baggy items on your body. He’s going to push you right back into your home, holding your shoulders as he stared deeply into your eyes.

* “Don’t lie to me okay? Do you have an eating disorder or something? Are you sick? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

* The questions were frequently and blunt, very unlike him. Your silence was an absolute confirmation for him.

* He’s going to beat himself up and call him unmanly for not even being able to help you through this. He was so blind! So oblivious to you and your needs.

* He’s going to cry and hold you as tightly as he could, his arms holding you as tight as he could. He’s going apologize for all those nights you slept alone, those days you hid your feelings from him, those moments when you probably needed him and never called.

* After you two confided, he’s going through every item. Now, the difference with this. He’s making you trash every item you use. I mean every single one. Dumping each pill, rip each magazine and everything.

* Afterwards, he’ll lead you to a secluded area where he often came to when he was younger. There, you two pour your feelings out until you two are laughing at the insecurities you have from a different point of view.

* You two are going to switch when you make meals though. Like for instance, he may have one week and you have the other. When he feels as if you don’t have enough to eat, he’ll feed you.

* If you ever feel depressed, sad, or anything. Just call him, because he’s going to come as soon as you even dial his number. Before the phone can even ring, he’s at your door.

* He’s going to CONSTANTLY REMIND you of just how amazing, sexy, and everything you are. He’s expressing it in more ways than anyone can expect.

* Honestly, Kirishima would probably wait to see results. He won’t be over your shoulder to check your weight constantly but rather to see you gain some a bit.

* Just know he’s not going to give up on you. He’s going to be patient with you because you’re his Beauty Cool.

* Don’t disappoint him please, I’d hate for anyone to experience a distant Kirishima. It’s like having a day without sunshine nor rain.

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zutarasecrettunnel · 3 years

Text

For Zutara Week 2021 Day 6: Spirits

Your Face, I See

Synopsis: The war is over for everyone but Katara, who keeps seeing the scarred face of the boy who sacrificed himself for her and for the world, everywhere she looks. When she finds out why she is experiencing these so-called hallucinations, she may be led right into a trap centuries in the making.

Read Chapter 1 here or on AO3:

After the war, scars were everywhere.

The earth lay scorched, trees stood singed, soldiers returned mangled to their homelands. The blemishes of war seemed to stain every surface, no mark more personal than the other, all a collective memory of survival for a world too long drenched in strife. None except for the mark that constantly haunted the waterbender. That mark was familiar. Each surface seemed to contain the same ragged skin, the same aged trauma, the same golden eyes.

It had been three months since she had escaped war into peacetime physically unscathed but obliterated nonetheless. Three months of seeing the scar that marked him, the banished prince of the Fire Nation, in nearly every object and landscape that entered her vision. It started in the Fire Nation palace only a week after the cacophony of flame and lightning that had ended the 100 Years War for good. Flickering flames cast the shadow of ruined layers of flesh, folded in on themselves like the staggering billows of crimson curtains they would appear behind. For months she stifled gasps as cat-like eyes seemed to watch her from around the imposing columns of the nation's grandest hall. Flashes, like the one that had taken him during the blaze of Sozin' comet, nothing but small jolts appearing out of nowhere like the snapping of a campfire during a ghost story.

The first time she saw him she almost believed he was real. His face had appeared in the blackness of the doorway of her borrowed chambers one night as she sat rocking at the edge of her bed, having only just awoken from another nightmare. In the soft candleglow, she had almost believed he had miraculously returned. This face was the one she remembered - taciturn, loyal, fragmented, handsome. It was not the ashen face of suffering he had held before finally succumbing to his family's dynasty of cruelty while his sister shrieked in her chains. This face, the one she had so long ago described as the face of the enemy, was the one she had begged the spirits to let her see ever since the Fire Sages had whisked his lifeless form away from her in the smoky aftermath of the Agni Kai.

But that's all it was. His face, unaccompanied by a body, and fading almost as soon as she had been able to adjust her eyes to the sight - a one-time hallucination brought on by sleeplessness. Just another aspect to the nightmare she was experiencing while awake and asleep, a side effect of watching a boy who had quickly become one of her closest friends die in her arms. As the plain blackness returned, so did Katara's heartbeat, sputtering back to work as if it had forgotten its role in her body and only just now remembered it had to keep her alive. She blinked again and again, feeling wetness on her cheeks. She would not sleep for the rest of the night.

It wasn't until the next time she saw him that she started to become concerned. His face appeared again ten days later, this time emanating from the bark of the willow tree near the royal turtleduck pond, illuminated plainly by the midday rays of the Fire Nation sun.This time it could not be blamed on candlelight and tired eyes. The waterbender gasped, dropping the rice ball she held. It rolled ungracefully into the pond, immediately being devoured by a small family of turtleducks.Her companions stopped their own consumption at the sound of her sharp intake. Sokka stared at his sister with concern. Suki followed her stare to the willow tree, looking back at the younger girl puzzled. Toph was the only one who continued nibbling absentmindedly on her own rice ball as if she hadn't noticed Katara's outburst at all.

"What is it?" Aang's voice broke through Katara's shock. She blinked, and already the second hallucination of the prince was gone.

"N-nothing," she stuttered, trying to recover, "it's nothing. I thought I saw a cave hopper and I-I-I thought they only lived in the caves!" She felt a reassuring touch on her elbow, looking to see Sokka offering a half-smile. He had noticed the deep circles forming under her eyes, the way any upturn of her mouth never reached them. Unsure of what else to do, he offered his presence as some semblance of reassurance to his sister, trying to impart that he was there for her no matter what.

"Oh," was the only response from the Avatar, hesitation clear in the single syllable. He hated seeing Katara like this, jumpy and anxious. None of them had been the same since Zuko had entered the spirit world, despite how they had all tried to move on. They had gotten everything they had worked for, an end to the century-long suffering of the four nations, but the cost seemed as if it was too great to bear. He worried he would never see the carefree Katara he had spent so much time trying to cultivate in the overburdened young girl again. The world was finally better, finally the way she deserved it to be, and yet he still couldn't make her happy.

The already somber mood of the group's lunch only soured more. It was then Katara decided she would work harder at keeping the ghostly image of the fire prince at bay, or at least keeping her hallucinations to herself. Despite her silent commitment, the visions only got worse. As time went on they became more frequent. First it became every day, then what seemed like every hour. Everywhere she went in the palace, in the streets of the capitol marketplaces, and even on the shores where she sought the healing nature of her element. Every inch of this vibrant and troubled nation was haunted for her, from the planned peace festivals to the pop-up protests of the now displaced ruling class. She stayed to help Aang restore order, working to ensure the stability of the nation her friend had so dearly loved, the nation whose honor he had sacrificed everything for.

With the increase in frequency of the hauntings, so increased the abject panic rising in Katara. It was becoming more difficult to hide her affliction from the others. After months of torment, while floating secluded in the star-speckled waves of a small, hidden inlet not far from the crater's edge, she finally asked for help.

The rising tide sent salt water lapping at her skin, while her eyes caused it to flood her face. She would often seek healing in these waters, but had so far been unsuccessful in drowning her grief. Tonight she basked in Yue's light, and finally got the courage to beg her celestial friend for relief.

She wasn't sure it would work, ignorant to the communication abilities of the spirits, but desperation consumed her. She had heard Sokka try talking to the moon shortly after they had left the Northern Water Tribe, sadness laden in his usually upbeat voice. She suddenly wondered if he had also seen visions of the princess after she had left them.

"Please, spirits. Please, Yue," she began her sorrowful overture to the large lunar surface overhead, floating parallel to the enormous heavenly body. "Why do I keep seeing him? Why do I keep seeing Zuko?"

She swallowed hard in the ensuing silence, trying to wait patiently for an answer. She was met only with a quiet, steady glow. Eyes closed tightly in despair, she listlessly started swimming back to the shore. As she neared the empty beach she heard the velvety cadence of the moon spirit speak softly between her ears.

"I know you miss him."

Katara froze in the water, settling upright, her toes sinking into silky sand. The ocean still covered her up to her shoulders. The voice arose in her again.

"Tui and La must circle each other in an eternal dance. One is not complete without the other. This is not what was meant to be," she explained. "Your anguish has pierced even the spirit world, and many have taken note."

Katara let her body sway loosely in the waves as she listened intently, her sand-covered feet her only anchor to this world.

"There are some that might use-" The sweet tones emanating from the pale night sky were sharply interrupted by a graveled voice. The new voice called out loudly, direct and authoritative.

"Katara!"

At the sound of that voice calling her name, she snapped her body toward the beach, searching the dimly lit shore for it's source. She hesitated for only a split second, taking one last glance at the moon, before summoning a grand swell of ocean to deliver her directly to the dry sands. Once ashore, she continued seeking the source of the voice. Her eyes darting from dark cliffs to jagged palm fronds, her heart beating wildly.

Finally she saw it, and immediately crumpled into the sand.

It was his face again, staring back at her from a rocky, moonlit crag. Just as it had been the hundred times before, his expression was serene, tranquil. Except this time it changed. This time the face curled into a twisted smile, an expression more suited for the deposed Phoenix King than his son. She stared, horrified, watching the distorted lips form the syllables of her name over and over. When it turned, revealing a hulking, segmented body like that of an enormous centipede, she finally screamed.

She could hear Zuko's voice continuing to call her name, begging her to help him, as she quickly picked herself off the ground and darted past the monster back toward the palace, heading recklessly into the heavy night.

#zutara #not me writing a whole ass chapter fic for zutara week!#it will not be done before the end of the week #but i will try not to abandon it!#zutara week 2021 #zutara fanfiction #better late than never #zk week 2021 #zutara week day 6 #this is gonna be a short chapter fic #with short chapters #unfortunately i dont have time to write an epic #im still on hiatus from my wip

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Thrill Me, Chill Me, Fulfill Me, Chapter 2/10: Vaginal (Gottrosenali) - Writworm42

A/N: Continuing down the list--vaginal orgasm! This refers to orgasms achieved via penetration without direct/targeted stimulation to the g-spot.

As per usual, disclaimer: THIS FIC IS NOT SEX ED. It may be based on an infographic but it is NOT educational, it is FICTION!!!! If you want more info on anything in the fic, I recommend visiting scarleteen, it's a fantastic resource.

Thank you Holtz for beta-ing <3 <3 <3

“What do you mean you’ve never been fucked with a strap?”

Rosé shrinks under Denali and Mik’s gaze, cheeks burning scarlet as their mouths gape in shock at her. It wasn’t supposed to be such a big deal; just an offhand comment while they were cuddling, wondering out loud how it felt to be on the receiving end of the strap she so enjoyed using with her partners. She hadn’t expected Denali and Mik to react like this, to literally push themselves up to stare at her, completely flabbergasted.

“I just like wearing them so much, I never got around to actually being fucked with one,” she justifies, trying to sound as casual as possible, though she knows from the way both Mik and Denali soften that she’s not as successful at that as she was hoping. But that’s the truth, as dumb as it sounds; she’s always enjoyed wearing the strap so much that by the time she takes it off, she’s content with something else. It’s easier that way; no need to switch things around, stop to change condoms or re-fasten the strap.

Not to mention the small part of her that’s sort of relieved that she hasn’t tried, because if she has no feeling to reference, then she won’t have a reason to spend time fixating on whether she measures up to it or not; if she doesn’t have a standard in mind, then she can settle on taking Denali & Mik’s word for it that she’s any good. Like right now, for instance, when Denali is reaching out to grab Rosé’s hand and give it a kind squeeze.

“It’s not that there’s anything wrong with that,” the blonde reassures her, “It’s just that you’re so good at it, it’s hard to believe, that’s all.”

“Seriously, I’m like, so shook right now,” Mik agrees. It’s flattering, really, and for a moment, Rosé thinks the compliment is where things will end; deciding that they want her to keep being the one to wear the strap, that as long as she’s so good at it, there’s no need to switch things up.

Of course, she should’ve known both Mik and Denali better than to actually believe that.

“So, follow up question,” Denali’s brow knits into a frown as she looks Rosé up and down, locking eyes with her again before proposing, “Do you want to try getting fucked with a strap?”

“Not that you should feel pressured!” Mik interjects, casting a sidelong warning look at Denali. “We’re just wondering, are you ever like, curious? About what it feels like? ‘Cause we’re both pretty good too, I think--”

“Wow, you think?” Denali interjects, huffing indignantly. “Nice, Mik. Real nice.”

“You know what I mean.” Mik rolls his eyes theatrically, only to shriek when Denali decides to get revenge by jabbing him hard in the side.

“The point is, Rosé--”

“What I meant to say before Denali interrupted me--”

“No, let me ask!”

“Me!”

“Enough, both of you!” Rosé tries to sound stern, but has to pinch her own thigh to keep from laughing. She swears that sometimes, it’s like dating two toddlers; Denali and Mik freeze mid-spar, Denali’s hands halfway to Mik’s shoulders as if she’s preparing to push him down and slap a hand over his mouth so she could beat him to the punch by force. Which, judging from the way she slowly lowers her arms with a sheepish look in her eyes, is exactly what she was planning to do.

God.

“I already know what you’re going to say,” Rosé crosses her arms over her chest, “So one of you just get it over with already.”

Mercifully, Mik relents without a fight, sitting back on his heels as Denali scoots forward towards Rosé.

“Rosie. My beloved.” She slaps her hands over Rosé’s cheeks, cupping her face as she continues, “Next time we have sex, if you’re feeling it…” she pauses for effect, locking eyes with Rosé before continuing gravely, “Will you let us stick our dicks in your hole?”

“Or holes!” Mik interjects. “If you’re into that.”

“Jesus Christ.” Rosé groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. Clowns, absolute clowns, the both of them. But despite her exasperation, neither Denali nor Mik seem particularly deterred; if anything, they become more expectant, Mik leaning in excitedly and Denali’s eyes taking on a further intensity as both of them wait for Rosé’s answer.

“Yes,” she finally sighs, rolling her eyes. “Yes, you can stick your… you can stick your dicks into my--my… God, I can’t believe I’m saying this-- hole . You can stick your dicks in my hole.”

When both of them begin to cheer in response, Rosé can’t help but wonder what the Hell she’s gotten herself into.

As it turns out, it’s almost two weeks until they actually wind up using the strap at all. It’s not that they don’t want to; in reality, the whole situation is out of their control. Things get busy at work for Mik, and Rosé has three auditions she needs to prepare for and recover from, and Denali is always so tired after practices these days that even if Mik and Rosé have the inclination to run to bed, it’s already taken up by her collapsed, already-sleeping body. In any case, sex--whether it involves dicking Rosé down or not--is the last thing on their minds in that time period.

At least, it’s the last thing on Denali and Mik’s minds, as far as Rosé knows. The truth is, while they’ve been occupying themselves with other things, Rosé’s mind has stayed on its usual one-track, their earlier conversation and the promises Mik and Denali had made playing in her mind over and over again. She finds herself drifting into fantasies even when she’s supposed to be focusing on something else, until by the end of their impromptu sex break, she finds herself almost constantly on edge, increasingly restless thanks to the thoughts that never quite seem to leave her head.

Thoughts like Mik kneeling over her wearing his strap, stroking the length of it as he trails his eyes over her body, delaying touching her knowing that any second, she’ll break and beg for it. Or Denali sliding into her while her mouth is latched to one of Rosé’s nipples, sucking and licking and making her come totally undone. Swallowing the length of it while Mik’s hand is tangled in her hair, or listening to Denali huff as she snaps her hips up against Rosé’s. How a strap might feel different from fingers, and exactly how Denali or Mik might make her thighs tremble, might fuck her so hard she can’t walk.

It’s a rainy Friday night when her dreams finally come to fruition. Dark clouds had been looming over the city for the last few days, and everyone had been waiting for the sky to unleash the storm they had been sure was coming. There’s no real warning, no initial spitting or dampness in the air; the sky had gone dark and let loose thunder, lightning, and a torrential downpour.

Given that, it’s no surprise that the power goes out less than thirty minutes later.

“Did you find the candles yet?” Rosé calls over to Denali, squinting through the darkness to watch her girlfriend scour the kitchen cabinets.

“ Did you find the candles yet?” Denali mocks as she whips around and shines her flashlight right in Rosé’s eyes, scowling at the two people piled on the couch. “It’d be a lot easier if you two bums helped, you know.”

“I can’t get up, I have a Mik on my lap,” Rosé hums, the shit-eating grin spreading on her face spurred on by Mik giggling at the comment.

“And what’s his excuse?” Denali snorts, pointing her chin towards the man nestled up against Rosé.

“I’m huddling with Rosie for warmth!”

“And I’m very grateful,” Rosé pats Mik’s head, winking over at Denali, who huffs and grumbles something under her breath before turning back to her search. Finally, she finds what she’s looking for, and soon the living room is littered with candles that light the room in a soft glow.

It would almost be romantic, if it weren’t for the way Mik’s elbow is digging into Rosé’s ribs.

“So what now?” Denali shoves Rosé over, jostling Mik and dislodging his elbow in the process as she grabs Rosé around the waist, pulling her in while she settles. Rosé doesn’t particularly mind, though; Mik shifts closer, too, and it’s nice, getting to be in the middle of the cuddle-pile.

That is, until she feels something against her leg, and realizes with a jolt that Mik’s hips have started to squirm against it, her calf having unwittingly slipped between his legs.

“It hasn’t even been ten seconds,” she snorts, but when Mik looks up at her, there’s an almost pitiful desperation in his eyes, hunger and eagerness obvious even in the near-darkness.

“I can’t help it,” he whines, “It’s been so long…”

Without even meaning to, Rosé presses her leg up against her boyfriend a little more firmly, hardly noticing the fact that for just a moment, she loses her breath completely.

“What’s the matter?” Rosé savours the way Mik sighs out shakily, eyes closing as he chases the pressure she’s applying. “Can’t keep it in your pants anymore?”

“I think that means he’s been a good boy, Rosie.” Denali’s breath tickles at Rosé’s ear, and for a moment, she stops, frowning as she tries to figure out what Denali could possibly mean before it clicks suddenly.

“Not at all?” Rosé's eyes widen in surprise, and Mik’s blush becomes so fierce, she swears she can almost feel it from her place on the couch.

At least she’s jerked off a couple times in the last two weeks, when she’d been alone in the apartment and too horny to wait; she’d naturally assumed that Denali and Mik had done the same. Unless…

“Strap feels good against me,” Mik provides simply, grinding down against Rosé’s leg a little harder, “not enough to come, usually, but I thought…” he clears his throat, and Rosé has to stop herself from leaning forward to kiss the embarrassment from his face. “I wanted to save it for when we--when you--”

“What d’you say we take this to the bedroom, yeah?” Denali proposes, her hands sliding home to Rosé’s chest and palming her tits through her shirt. “I think Mik might explode if we keep him waiting any longer.”

Rosé moves so fast, she’s surprised she doesn’t accidentally knock over a candle.

It’s almost pitch-black in their bedroom, but Rosé finds that she doesn’t particularly care. As soon as they’ve crossed the threshold into the room, they go purely by feel, falling back onto the bed in a giggly, excited mess. Mik’s hands find their way to Rosé’s waist, his fingers splaying over her sides and nails digging in as Denali’s mouth meets Rosé’s own in a deep, perfect kiss. By the time Mik’s lips latch onto her neck, she can barely keep it together; she needs more, and she needs it now.

“Please,” Rose moans into Denali, who smirks against her lips.

“Please what, baby?” Denali plays dumb, biting down a little on her lip as Mik escalates his own teasing, licking and nipping up to her jaw, his hands wandering down to play with the hem of her shirt.

Fuck.

“More…”

It’s all Rosé can muster, but it’s enough; frantic hands begin to move over her body, tugging and grasping and peeling her clothes away until she’s in nothing but her underwear, Denali’s hands cupping her tits through her bra and Mik’s mouth marking her collarbone.

“Still up to taking my cock, angel?” Mik’s voice drips with hunger and need, but Rosé can hear the concern behind it, the need to hear that Rosé is still open to trying something new. But Rosé doesn’t even need to think before she nods, squirming with anticipation.

“I’m ready,” she breathes, locking eyes with her boyfriend and mirroring the want she finds in his own. “ Please .”

Mik answers her only with a chaste kiss on the lips before slipping away to get everything prepped.

“I want this off,” Denali brings Rosé’s attention away from Mik with a firm squeeze to her tits before one hand drops below the cup, a lazy finger tracing over the underwire.

Rosé wastes no time in granting the request, shimmying out of her bra and sighing in relief when Denali responds by latching her mouth onto one of Rosé’s nipples, tongue gentle and teasing. Not that she can focus on Denali’s ministrations for long--before she has a chance to lose herself in the feeling of Denali nipping and sucking on the hardened bud, she notices the bed dip and shift as Mik climbs back on, bottle of lube in hand. And the sight of Mik with a harness fastened tight on his hips, his favourite realistic cock waiting between his legs?

Rosé can’t think of a single thing she’d rather see right now.

“Can I--” she starts to reach forward before freezing, suddenly becoming aware of the bemused twinkle in Mik’s eyes as he watches her reaction. Denali picks up on it, too, and takes the opportunity to ghost a finger along the curve of Rosé’s spine, humming with satisfaction when Rosé shivers.

“Can you what, angel?” Denali teases, the hand on her back moving down again to rest on her ass. “Go on, don’t be shy. Tell daddy what you want.”

“Can…can I--” Rosé starts, but it’s too difficult; looking from the strap to the bottle in Mik’s hand back up to his cocky smirk, her embarrassment overtakes her, and she looks at him with pleading eyes, burning face a cry for help.

“Put your hand out, baby,” he softens, taking pity on her, and she smiles gratefully as she obeys, letting him squirt a generous amount of lube into her palm so that she can stroke it on for him, the mess covering her hand when she finally finishes well worth the lingering sensation of the toy in her grip. She wipes the excess lube off on her bare stomach, then scoots back, fitting straight into Denali’s waiting arms.

“Hips up,” Mik continues directing as Denali’s hands find their way back onto Rosé’s tits from behind, deft fingers circling and pinching while Rosé lets Mik slide her panties down and throw them aside.

“Think you can take daddy already, or do you need fingers first?” Denali whispers into Rosé’s ear before planting a soft kiss on her temple, and for a moment, Rosé pauses, frowning as she considers her options. The strap doesn’t look that thick, and Rosé trusts Mik to be gentle, to go slow and check in often. But at the same time, there’s a reason Denali asked; what if it really is different, and it hurts?

“Relax,” Denali cuts off Rosé’s spiral with a hand snaking down to her slit, playing with her folds gently to bring her out of her own head, focus on something else instead. “You have nothing to worry about, ‘kay?”

“We can go as slow as you want,” Mik adds with a soft, reassuring smile, and Rosé nods, letting out a shaky breath.

“Wanna feel you,” she decides. “Please, daddy.”

Mik says nothing, only leans forward to kiss Rosé sweetly, but she swears she can taste excitement on his lips. But the moment is over as soon as it began; Mik pulls away and gets to work lining himself up with Rosé’s cunt, flashing her one last lopsided smile before he begins to ease himself in.

“How’s that feel, angel?” he starts to thrust in and out shallowly, slowly, and Rosé has to admit--her boyfriend wasn’t lying when he said he was good. Between his teasing and Denali continuing to play with her nipples, craning down to kiss the curve of her neck, Rosé can’t help but squirm, chase Mik’s dick with her hips while pushing her chest up into Denali’s hands. But it’s to no avail; they both keep up the cruel game, working her up and practically radiating glee as she gets closer and closer to unravelling.

That is, until Denali brings a sharp slap to her tits, and she’s jerked out of her trance by the realization that she still hasn’t answered her boyfriend.

“Focus, baby girl,” she murmurs, “Use your words and tell daddy how you feel.”

“Good,” she breathes, “Feels good, daddy, so fucking good— ah,” she cuts off with a gasp as Mik speeds up a little, thrusting a little deeper as he smiles down at her approvingly.

“Good girl.”

Rosé has to admit--now that she’s actually on the receiving end on her lover’s strap, she gets the hype. Mik’s pace is relentless, yet fluid, the rhythm of his thrusts unbroken even when he leans down to attach his lips to her neck. His hands tighten around Rosé’s hips, grip bruising as it pulls her closer still, allowing him to hit exactly where he needs to. And Denali, in the meanwhile?

“God, I wish you could see yourself,” Denali’s voice is low in Rosé’s ear, hands traveling down her sides and nails scratching along her skin. “So pretty right now, our pretty little mess.”

As if to further tease Rosé, Denali brings one of her hands down between the redhead’s legs, laughing when Rosé immediately cries out in shock and overstimulation when Denali begins to circle Rosé’s clit with far-too-gentle fingers. But her moans turn into whines of protest when just as fast, Denali takes her fingers back again, this time bringing them to Rosé’s lips for her to suck into her mouth.

“There we go, good girl,” she purrs as Rosé licks the taste of herself from Denali’s fingertips. “See how wet you are, sweetheart? Poor baby,” she laughs a little, her other hand’s touch becoming soft on her waist as she teases, “can’t even control yourself, can you?”

Rosé can’t answer; she’s too far gone, too lost in the dizzying task of trying to take in every feeling, process everything being done to her. It’s a fact that neither Mik nor Denali fail to notice, but it’s Mik that finally says something after a few more moments of torment, his voice dripping with condescension as he goes in for the kill.

“You take daddy’s cock so well, baby,” he murmurs against her collarbone. “Doing so good for us.”

He moves one hand from her hip to her jaw, tipping her chin up to kiss him languidly, and fuck, she can’t hold on much longer, not when Denali’s hands are stroking the insides of her thighs and Mik’s tongue is against hers and all she wants is more.

“Please,” Rosé musters up all the strength she can to force the plea out, eyes screwing shut in effort, “Please, please let me come, please, I need to come, please!”

“Go ahead, angel,” Mik gives her one more sweet kiss before making one last particularly hard thrust, and that pushes her over the edge.

Rosé’s orgasm crashes over her all at once, knocking the air from her lungs and making the world spin. Mik fucks her through her orgasm, Denali whispering sweet praises all the while, and slowly, she comes down again, still feeling like she’s floating on air.

“How d’you feel, gorge?” Mik looks at Rosé with concern as he pulls out, and it’s cute, the little flash of insecurity that Rosé catches in his eyes. She laughs, opening her arms to beckon Mik towards her.

“I feel amazing.”

Mik beams as he shimmies out of the strap, crawling up towards Rosé and making room for himself between her and Denali. But as he does, he accidentally brushes himself against Rosé’s thigh, and the little gasp he lets out alerts her to something that isn’t quite right.

He’s wet, and swollen, and Rosé realizes with a jolt that she hadn’t heard him come like he thought he might.

She looks over at Denali, tipping her head towards Mik suggestively. The blonde frowns in confusion for just a moment before her face lights up in understanding, and she smiles as she puts a hand over Mik’s thigh, licking her lips when Rosé does the same on his other side.

“Open your legs, baby boy,” Rosé murmurs, kissing the blush that’s already burning at his cheeks. “It’s time for me to thank you.”

#rpdr fanfiction #s13 #rosé #gottmik #denali foxx #denali x gottmik x rosé #f/f/m #poly #smut #trans character #thrill me chill me fulfill me #writworm42 #tw daddy kink

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thestarswhim · 3 years

Text

MK needs some rest

Summary: “Look, kid, using that much power, your body can’t handle it.”

In which MK didn’t fully recover his strength after the Macaque and DBK situation, and is really trying hard to push through, anyway.

Thankfully, Monkey King intervenes.

Words: 3360

Notes: Has descriptions of anxiety and stress. Since this is in MK’s perspective, Wukong will just be referred as Monkey King throughout the whole fic, but if I end up writing this in Wukong’s perspective as well, that’ll change, or go back and forth between “Monkey King” and “Wukong,” to fit his own perspective.

Enjoy! :D

MK woke up feeling… tired, to put it simply. It had been like this for the past week, and no matter how much rest he got, even when he slept for ten hours given the chance, nothing elevated the hazy daze he felt himself constantly being in. It started after his “training” with Macaque and the fight with the Demon Bull King, and only got worse since then. Maybe that just drained his energy a bit more than usual. Yeah, that made sense, being more exhausted could happen to anyone.

He was doing work just fine, though Pigsy had to yell more and even louder to get his full attention every once in a while, and he may have had missed a few stops while delivering noodles (and had also, probably, dropped more than one bowl when cleaning up the shop. Pigsy was definitely going to take that out of his next paycheck). Then, when he and Mei would hang out and do their usual arcade/porty — party; he meant party — fun, he would zone out for a moment and stare blankly at nothing, lost in thoughts and memories that Mei had to quickly snap him out of. What were those thoughts and memories? … That didn’t matter. He was fine. His friends and family were fine. The city was filled with high energy and bustled with life. Nothing was wrong for now. Everything was fine. He was fine. And tired. Gosh, he was so tired— Anyway— After that, he would go home, with his feet being dragged on the floor by this point, and head straight to bed, not even bothering to change his clothes, or brush his teeth, or do anything. He just let the overwhelming weight of exhaustion that was seeping all the way into his bones to finally pull him into the state of unconsciousness. The dreams that he could barely make out left him shaken in the morning, and, of course, he felt like he never slept in the first place. He groaned in his pillow, fighting the tears of frustration that pushed at his eyes from leaking out.

It was a constant cycle, a routine, and the fact that no major threats had happened ever since the fight didn't make him feel any better. But, that could be the sleep deprivation — if he was sleep deprived because he did sleep — talking.

Today he was supposed to train with Monkey King who throughout the weeks would make him do the smallest of chores, up to the point where he only had to sweep the floor…? He was doing that on purpose, MK knew that much, because where was the life lesson for sweeping the floor? But, all his mentor would say was, "It's never a bad thing to take it easy once in a while," and that was that.

It had been a long day (again) before he finally got to the mountain, the energy he had left already drained and gone, but he was fine. After all, maybe he'd just have to watch paint dry this time. Okay, nevermind, that sounded excruciating and so much worse. “Welcome back!” Monkey King greeted casually, snapping MK back into the present. He blinked. When did he walk over to the cavern?

“Hey…” he greeted back distantly and started to become more and more aware of his surroundings as he looked around, stopping at the sight of Monkey King who jumped off the cloud he always laid on. “So, uh,” he shook his head to regain focus again which he quickly regretted when he got light-headed by the simple action. And now there were small dots in his vision. Great, just what he needed. “What—” he subconsciously rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, “what are we doing today— ah!” Monkey King was now in front of him, no warning or any indication that he walked closer at all, and eyed him carefully, brows creased. Before MK could say anything, two hands gently cupped his face and started to move his head around slowly from side to side as a way to examine him. He sucked in a quiet breath from the sudden contact, and had the urge to lean into the warmth the hands were giving off, but stopped himself since he would probably fall over. “You doing okay, bud?” Monkey King asked as softly as he could make his voice be. The kid attempted to nod enthusiastically, but it came out rigid beneath the palm of his hands. “Yup. It’s been a long day, ‘s all,” MK mumbled, though to himself he said that at normal volume. “Really now?” The hands then left MK’s face which apparently were supporting him since he did almost fall over regardless, setting a foot down in front of him to stop that from happening. “Well, there isn’t really much to do today… but you are staying over.” That brought his attention back. He looked up towards his mentor and raised a brow. “Wait, what?” “You’ll be spending the night,” Monkey King explained. “It’ll be for, you know,” he shoved a peach chip in his mouth, “training.” “I feel like you’re starting to use that as an excuse…” “Ehh, no. You’ll learn something from this,” and, again, that was that.

Despite MK’s mind running like a phone on save battery mode right now, a new energy seemed to gradually rise within him as he took a minute to actually process the situation. Would this technically be a sleepover? Having a sleepover with the Monkey King? How many people could say that? His excitement might be muddled by fatigue, but he was still excited! It was just…

“What are we going to do, then?” “First off,” Monkey King put a bag of the peach chips in MK’s hands, “you should eat something. I also got some of the instant noodles you could snack on later.” He stared down at the bag, making him realize that his appetite wasn't really apparent, and inwardly cringed. He hadn’t actually eaten much at all the last few days, only ever having a few dumplings or a bowl of noodles Pigsy would try to make him attempt to eat during break (he could never finish the noodles, though). You’d think he would be starving by how tired he had been, but nope. “I think I’m good for now. I’ll… eat later.” Monkey King looked at him for a moment once more, searching for something, and then hummed thoughtfully. “Okay.” MK let out a breath of relief, and his body slightly untensed. He didn’t think he could stomach anything right now.

“Let’s get watching!” Monkey King announced, carefully taking a hold of MK’s arm, and guiding him over to his house. “Hope you’re a binge-watcher ‘cause it’s a pretty long series. I mean, I’m in it, afterall, so of course it is.” MK let his teacher guide him, not trying to pay any mind to the fact that his legs were basically all sloshy and almost numb, and that Monkey King was holding onto him in the first place. That was new. But, they’re going to be binge-watching? …

Thank. Goodness. “Oh, yeah,” MK waved his hand dismissively as if there was no question needed, “I definitely am! Mei and I stayed up for two days straight one time watching this weird sci-fi movie series. Something to do with a guy named Jim? I don’t know, it was weird.” “Nice! One time I stayed up for about a month straight watching… literally anything.” What!? How was he even still ali— oh, right. Geez, his brain… and was he seeing everything in slow motion now, or…?

And now he was sitting on the couch. … Huh? When did they—? What? He rubbed at his eyes like it would help the dysfunction his state of mind was in, and blinked. Monkey King was turning on the TV in front of MK, and then went over to the couch and sat down next to him. His expression looked… odd for some reason? It wasn’t anger, but he did seem more serious (or was that concern?) compared to how he was moments prior, like something was bothering him. Did something happen? The weird expression instantly changed when he looked over to MK, his smile once again apparent. “There you are, kid. I was worried for a sec there. You, like, totally spaced out on me when I was talking to you.”

“Oh, uh,” MK instinctively rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish smile, “sorry about that. It’s been a long day.” Didn’t he already say that? He noticed Monkey King’s tail slightly twitch. “Right, right. Good thing we’re taking it easy today.” “‘Cause this is definitely training,” he thought— he said that out loud. “Exactly!” Monkey King then put a hand to MK’s chest and lightly pushed him further into the couch. “Now relax. You’re stiff as a board right now.” MK got sort of surprised by how easy it was for him to be pushed with such minimal force. You could poke him and he would probably go falling instantly. Hopefully, he didn’t feel even worse in the morning. He really, really hoped. This unnerving sensation swelled in his lungs and buzzed throughout his head as he thought of the possibilities of an enemy showing up while he was still like this, or not being able to do his job right at the shop and even as a hero, or be there for anybody, or—

There was a sudden pressure on the top of his head. He inwardly gasped and snapped his head toward the source.

It was one of the monkeys from the mountain.

“Oh,” was all he could breathe out as a few more showed up, one of them resting on Monkey King’s abdomen. The monkey on his head slid off to sit on the couch as well. MK looked back over to the TV when the first episode was starting, and actually tried to relax. It was the Monkey King animated series, he could totally focus on it no problem. ~~~

What was strange was that Monkey King had barely been saying anything while they watched. Maybe a few comments here and there, but other than that, nothing more. MK would have said something, but he wasn’t really paying attention. He didn’t even know what episode they were on. The daze he was still in was even more heavy and dragging, his vision getting hazy as he stared at the screen. The monkey was still on the couch, and MK just realized he had been petting them this whole time.

He felt like he was about to pass out at any moment, he wanted to pass out. But, something in him was saying not to. That if he were to fall asleep now, something, someone, out there would attack. But who? Ugh, why couldn’t he just calm down, and not think dumb thoughts! Everything was fine! Everything was… fine. “White Bone Spirit…” MK froze. His eyes instantly stayed locked on the TV, blocking out all his surroundings. The person on the screen was talking to the group, but the blood pounding in his ears wouldn't let him hear any of the words that were coming out of their mouth. He didn't recognize the name, but something wasn't right. Their white, pure hair, and those eyes. It was like they were staring right at him. Mockingly.

His entire body went ice cold. and he most likely even stopped breathing, but he didn't notice, he didn't care. He had to do something. Now.

"Hey," MK squeaked out, immediately on his feet. "Monkey King? Shouldn't— shouldn't we do some training?" His heart wouldn't stop racing, and his hands and legs became numb. He couldn't feel anything. Too many thoughts were flooding his mind, someone dangerous was out there, and if they wasted any more time...

Monkey King looked up at him, still sitting down. His tail twitched again. "I think it's getting a little late for the kind of training you're thinking of. You got work tomorrow, don't you?"

"Yeah, but I haven't been doing anything for almost two weeks!" MK didn't mean to shout, but his nerves were on end, and they were wasting more time. "Don't you think it's strange that nothing has been happening?"

"Well, yeah, but," Monkey King shifted in his seat, "we can't do much until something does happen."

"Except maybe train?"

Monkey King's face had that bothered expression again. He sighed. "Kid, I don't want you pushing yourself anymore than you already have."

MK formed his hands into fists, tightening them as flashes of purple shadows and blue whispers swept over his mind like a fog, and tried to keep his legs from giving out. "Someone's out there! Uh, maybe. I don't know, but we have to at least do something!"

"...Hey—"

“Because—” MK’s lungs were burning from his now ragged breathing, his mind was spinning, and he barely comprehend that he interrupted his mentor. Tears were starting to form in his eyes. "Because if I'm not ready, then I won’t be good enough, and then everyone will get hurt, and it will all be my fault— “ “Xiaotian.” MK instantly stopped, nothing but his harsh breaths breaking the weird, sudden silence that fell over them. The TV had been long turned off, apparently. Monkey King grabbed his arm again, even more gentler this time, and continued talking. “You’re shaking. Breathe.” He was easily pulled down back on the couch, and Monkey King repositioned himself so he could start… combing through MK’s hair?

It was so careful and… comforting. Strangely, that was what made the tears fall down, one by one, and MK quickly tried to wipe them away. It was like this for a while. Quiet, but a peaceful quiet, except for the hushed sobbing that echoed the room— and when did he start sobbing?

“It’s okay,” Monkey King said, petting his head with a nice, steady rhythm. “You’re safe.”

MK took in slow breaths, now attempting to do what he was told before. He was surprised how he hadn't completely passed out yet, but that didn’t matter at the moment. He was comfortable, and it had been too long (way too long than he had liked) since he truly felt that way.

After his breathing settled down, and he could, well, breathe again, Monkey King decided to speak up.

"Remember when I told you about using too much of your power?"

MK nodded, slowly, the reminder causing certain flashbacks that he had to shake away again.

"Well," he continued, grooming MK's hair more than petting it now, "it really wore you out, and I'm sure you know that," he chuckled the last few words with a tried effort. "You didn't fully recover by the time you had to go and basically fight again. Literally, once you came back, you were thrown into the prey."

"Wait," MK turned his head toward the monkey with narrowed eyes, "so you do still watch me."

He noticed Monkey King's eyes widen before he could cover it up with a side glance. "I… not all the time, no. I just wanted to keep an eye on you for a while." He flicked a piece of dirt that was in MK's hair away.

"Okay…"

"Seriously."

"Mhm…"

Monkey King ruffled his hair and laughed. It was so genuine that MK couldn't help but laugh as well, causing a weight to be lifted off his shoulders, and, wow, was he really feeling the exhaustion hitting him now.

"Anyway," back to the grooming he went, "that's why I was making you take it easy. You need a break so you can fully recover all of your strength which will help you for whatever danger might be out there. It's not always about the physical, you gotta focus on what's inside, too. We'll get to the 'fun' training stuff later, okay?"

"'Kay," MK mumbled, already slipping into a sleepy-like trance. If he had anything else to say, or worry about, he forgot; his eyes closed, and the welcoming blanket of rest enveloped him. Monkey King was saying something, but he sounded too muffled and far away.

The dreams never showed up that night, and he no longer was shaking.

~~~

“Kid!”

He woke up to his nose being pinched, and yelped. His vision only made out colorful blobs that apparently represented someone. “What happened?”

The blob cleared his throat in a failed attempt to hold in a snicker. “Nothing much,” he then shrugged, “except you’ll be late to work in a few minutes, so…” “What!?” MK shot up from the couch and started running straight to the door, everything becoming clearer in his sight of panic. “Oh my gosh, Pigsy’s gonna fire me!” Would he even be able to make it in time? Where would he end up staying once he was fired? Would he be replaced by that delivery bot? No, no, no, no! Definitely not! His hand was already on the doorknob by the time Monkey King appeared right behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait, wait! Slow down. How are you feeling?” MK turned around and started to run in place. “Fine, I guess! But, I have to—” His eyes widened as he realized and stopped his eager bouncing. “I… feel great, actually.” Huh. Monkey King’s eyes lit up, and his smile grew just a bit wider. “Good! Now,” he wrapped an arm around MK, “do you need a ride?”

“...What?”

~~~ After Monkey King shoved the bag of peach chips in MK’s hands again to which he devoured in a surprising matter of seconds, they were now both up in the sky. MK’s hair was flying back as the crisp air of the morning blew on his face, his arms tightly around Monkey King’s torso as they rode along on his cloud. He wasn’t sure how fast they were going, but his face felt numb, so that must have meant something. “I might just have to teach you how to ride this thing soon!” Monkey King yelled, his voice cutting through the rush of wind… somehow.

“That’d be awesome!” He could ride his board with ease, flying a cloud would just be an upgrade. A very, very awesome upgrade. It was hard to talk, though, and close his mouth no less. Ew, what if he swallowed a bug?

Not even a few minutes went by before they were nearing the shop, and MK couldn’t stop grinning when he jumped off safely onto the concrete ground. He wasn’t going to be late!

He spun around to face the Monkey King, who was still standing easily balanced on the cloud with his arms crossed, and waved. “Thanks, Monkey King! For, well, yesterday, and taking me here!” “Anytime, bud.” He hovered over and swiftly fixed up MK’s hair which was all over the place by the wind. “Try to eat something more on your break if you can, and remember,” he gave him one more pat on the shoulder, the features of his face softening, “one step at a time, all right?”

The way Monkey King had been grooming his hair during this time, and how casually he did it, too, like this was something he’d always done, that there was nothing wrong with showing this kind of… affection(?), made MK feel overwhelmed with a certain emotion he couldn't describe. Tears were wanting to well up again for some odd reason, but he smiled and nodded, holding it down.

Monkey King smiled back and proceeded to go on his way into the sky, leaving a gust of wind in his absence.

MK stood there, watching him take off before shaking his head to regain focus, and jogged over to the entrance of the shop. As the door chimed opened, a new sense of determination rose up within him; a new surge of energy buzzed throughout his body. And even though he still had an uneasy feeling, he knew — and he actually believed it this time — that despite whatever could happen…

Everything was fine.

~~~

Notes: This took me weeks to finish, but ayyyye! I love me some of that Hurt/Comfort, and the boy really needs it (especially with what might happen in season 2 OHOHO BOY). While writing this I realized that it’d be interesting to do this in Wukong’s perceptive, soooo... look out for that if I write it 👀

I hope you enjoyed reading it! I haven’t finished a whole fanfic in awhile, so this being over three thousand words is beautiful 🤩👌 Love y’all! Much Love, and many blessings! 💖

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #monkie kid fanfiction #MK #qi xiaotian #monkey king #sun wukong #hurt/comfort #LMK #fanfiction #fanfic

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aurora077 · 3 years

Text

The Irwin Agenda Chapter 1

Summary:

Lan Wangji is pleased that his brother and Wei Ying seem to be getting along like a house on fire. Lan Xichen is most grateful for Master Wei’s help. Lan Qiren is just happy that for once it seems like Wei Wuxian is keeping out of trouble and is optimistic that Gusu Lan has finally managed to tame the beast. Unfortunately, he should have learned not to count his chickens before they hatched… and he really should have been focusing on taming a very different sort of beast. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13942581/1/The-Irwin-Agenda

Chapter 1 - Lan Xichen starts a project.

Disclaimer: I do not own MDZS/The Untamed.

--------------------------

“Ah Wangji, there you are.”

“Xiongzhang. 😲 What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”

“No no, nothing at all other than, you know, the obvious. I’m sure you don’t need to hear all about how my life got flipped-turned upside down.”

“What?”

“Nevermind.”

He cleared his throat, “Anyway I really came here to look for Wei Wuxian.”

Wangji blinked, indicating surprise.

“What does brother need with Wei Ying?”

“Hmm let’s just say I need his… expertise.”

Wangji’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Brother isn’t thinking of….”

“Don’t be silly Wangji. I would never.” He’d leave the demonic cultivation and zombie best friends to Wei Wuxian, thank you very much. No, Lan Xichen needed him for a different type of expertise.

“Sect Leader Jiang visited the other day with Sect Leader Jin. He mentioned something to me and I need Wei Wuxian’s expert opinion.”

“You saw Sect Leader Jiang?” Wangji said, surprised once more.

“Indeed. We had tea while the kids were out doing whatever kids do when the adults aren’t watching. ” Technically they were young adults but, semantics.

Wangji’s mouth pursed slightly. He always looked like he’d bitten into a lemon whenever Sect Leader Jiang was mentioned (or present).

“Does Jiang Wanyin not know that brother is in seclusion?”

He frowned, “Wangji, you may not like him, but he is a sect leader. You ought to show due courtesy. Besides, I invited him.”

Lan Wangji was stunned. Why would his brother, who made it a point these days to avoid as many people as possible, take time from seclusion to have tea with Jiang Wanyin? He knew Xichen wasn’t in full seclusion, he’d come out for the banquet and other events important to the clan, but on a day to day basis the seclusion still stood. Which was why he was surprised Xichen was in the Jingshi to begin with, let alone looking for Wei Ying. Now he hears he’s been having tea with Wei Ying’s insufferable ex-shidi? What was the world coming to?

“Don’t look at me like that,” said Lan Xichen, “I’m perfectly capable of taking guests if I want to. And not all of us share your feelings about Sect Leader Jiang.”

Well, he could acknowledge that as true so he said nothing.

“Anyway, do you know where I might find Wei Wuxian?” continued Lan Xichen.

“Wei Ying is probably with the rabbits,” answered Lan Wangji. It was normal when he was busy with paperwork that Wei Ying would find other ways to amuse himself. The juniors were away on a night-hunt so the next best bet was the rabbits as Wei Ying was not currently occupied with any inventions.

“Thank you Wangji, I’ll see myself out.”

------------

Wei Wuxian was indeed with the rabbits. His stubborn donkey was unhappily chewing at a patch of grass next to him while the rabbits cowered away from the both of them.

He perked up upon spotting Lan Xichen. “Brother in law, what brings you here!”

“Well,” he said amused, “I might be here to relieve your boredom.”

Wei Wuxian sprung up excitedly. “What do you have planned?”

“A-Yuan said that you once managed to raise lotuses in the Burial Mounds.” “Yes, did you want me to help you grow some here?” It would make sense that Lan Xichen needed his help. Neither the Burial Mounds nor Cloud Recesses had the right environment for lotuses to grow. What Wei Wuxian did was ingenious and altogether unheard of. The Burial Mounds was inhospitable to life in general although, even if it wasn’t, lotuses wouldn’t have grown there; but Wei Wuxian made it happen. He could certainly make it happen here too in the cold, mountainous Cloud Recesses.

“Well you’re on the right track! But...not exactly, ” said Lan Xichen.

----------

“Right well, I understand what it is you mean now,” said Wei Wuxian. He inspected the drawing. Lan Xichen had worked diligently to capture what he envisioned on paper. The problem now was making it happen.

“Do you have a place where we could do this?” enquired Wei Wuxian. He was so intrigued. If he could pull this off he would be impressed with himself. It would take a large area and it would be a lot of hard work.

“Yes, I believe I do. The back of the Hanshi has a lot of forest. I was thinking I could clear a big enough space. Nothing will go to waste either because we can use the wood from the trees to fence off the area.”

“Great,” Wei Wuxian said, clapping his hands decisively, “Let’s get to work then!”

--------

Lan Qiren was pleased. It had been a whole five months since Wei Wuxian had caused any sort of disturbance. And he was actually rising in the morning with the Lans now! And eating their food! Wonder of wonders!

He still was unabashedly clingy towards Lan Wangji but that made Wangji happy so, as much as it irked Lan Qiren to see their shameless displays, he would tolerate it...as long as the other rules were followed.

Lan Qiren always suspected his nephew was slipping alcohol to Wei Wuxian, though he could never prove it, but these days it appeared that Wei Wuxian was surprisingly sober most of the time. Lan Qiren didn’t even get a whiff of alcohol! For the first few weeks of this newfound adherence to the rules he was in a state of heightened panic. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop with each day that passed without any of Wei Wuxian’s shenanigans. But as the days went by he started to relax.

He attributed this change of behaviour to his first nephew, who Wei Wuxian had been spending a lot of time with lately. Wangji was blinded by love and so he indulged Wei Wuxian too much, but Xichen had a clear head. He must be acting as a good influence on Wei Wuxian. He hoped this behaviour continued. It was a sign that finally, finally his days of peace might return permanently.

Xichen was interacting with people again (well, only his immediate family and for some reason, Sect Leaders Jiang and Jin… but still, it was more progress than some people made in an entire lifetime --looking at you Qingheng-Jun 😒-- and no, he was not bitter at all, whatever would give you that idea?). Wangji seemed happy in general (as opposed to him moping around for the past 13 years in mourning clothes). And Wei Wuxian, that feral little gremlin, was actually following the rules!

Oh happy day!

He went to class with a pep in his step.

His students were noticeably happier as well because Lan Qiren in a good mood could only benefit them. He even removed the no interacting with Wei Wuxian rule from the wall, which is the one most of them broke constantly! The students rejoiced. Things were peaceful in the Cloud Recesses. Life was good.

----------

Lan Wangji was a happy man. He was married to the love of his life. His brother was getting better day by day, and got along well with his husband. And his uncle seemed like he’d finally come around to Wei Ying. He felt touched the day Uncle removed the rule forbidding interaction with Wei Ying. He knew that his uncle did not like him, even before the whole Yiling Patriarch thing. But he didn’t forbid them from living in Cloud Recesses. Sure he was not pleased that Uncle wrote a rule against Wei Ying on the wall, but it didn’t stop the juniors from interacting with him anyway and really only served to give Uncle some peace of mind that he did what he could to stop Wei Wuxian from “corrupting” the kids. Uncle needed to feel like he had some semblance of control so, aside from his initial protests, Lan Wangji did not fight him down on it. It wouldn’t stop him from giving Wei Ying a happy life anyway, so let Uncle have his rules.

Lan Wangji knew that his brother supported his relationship and that was enough. He couldn’t help but admit though that Uncle’s support meant a lot to him. He wondered what prompted the change of heart, since Uncle had had a grudge against Wei Ying since their school days and wasn’t the type of man to change his opinions that easily. He wasn’t so brave yet to ask him about it though for fear of ruining things, so he just accepted it.

Wei Ying himself had not noticed a thing. He was busy helping xiongzhang with his project. It was taking a long time because they had to do everything from scratch. Wei Ying didn’t have time to spare. He was matching brother’s schedule so that they could work together more efficiently. He didn’t even drink his favourite Emperor’s Smile these days because he didn’t want to lose focus. Even the food! Usually Lan Wangji would have enough time to make Wei Ying breakfast because...breakfast was usually lunch . But now Wei Ying got up to match the Lans and so he ended up eating breakfast with them too so as not to wait for a meal to be cooked and waste time. He was so tired at the end of the day he didn’t even complain about it, he just fell into bed at 9pm and that was that.

It really cut into the time they had together since they were both so busy but it was for his brother, who had stood by him after Wei Ying’s death for all those years and allowed him his freedom to go ‘where the chaos was’ as they said. He even helped him hide Wei Ying even though he thought Wei Ying was guilty. If this was what would help brother recover his spirits then Lan Wangji would not protest.

In fact, this little project of theirs helped his brother and Wei Ying to become closer. Rather than just accepting Wei Ying, his brother was actually forming a friendship with him. He even told him to call him Xichen-ge. He was impressed with Wei Ying’s ingenuity and grateful that he was going out of his way to help him when he really didn’t have to.

And as much as Lan Wangji loved Wei Ying, he still wasn’t much of a conversationalist, with Wei Ying doing most of the talking and himself, the listening. But with xiongzhang, Wei Ying found someone who was willing to debate with him and could easily carry a conversation. And brother found a friend who he could rely on. After Jin Guangyao’s betrayal, he thought that brother would never befriend anyone again. He may not ever be as close to Wei Ying as he was with Jin Guangyao, but it was a start.

Unfortunately, there was one downside to the project.

Somehow, the person who gave Lan Xichen the idea was *ugh* Sect Leader Jiang. What this meant was that the man in question would make frequent visits to see how it was coming along, providing them with insights as well. It irked him because Wei Ying and xiongzhang had insisted that the project was a secret. They promised they’d tell him before anyone else when it was completed and they’d asked him to cover for them and not let anyone on to what they were doing in the meantime.

Being a dutiful husband and brother he respected their wishes. It would have been fine if Jiang Wanyin had not been in on it. It chafed that he could not be there helping Wei Ying but instead it was Jiang Wanyin. He did not protest because Wei Ying still valued Jiang Wanyin and he would not do anything to upset Wei Ying, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. And since the project seemed to have helped Jiang Wanyin and Wei Ying reconcile, he was sure once all the work was done and Wei Ying wasn’t too tired to socialise, that he’d be forced to interact even more with the man, which he was dreading.

But of course he would endure it for Wei Ying. Sect Leader Jin was also involved somehow but the days when he visited made Wei Ying so happy that Lan Wangji could not begrudge his involvement in the project. Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui were also happy to meet with the young sect leader. Lan Wangji could not be upset when it made his family so happy. No, he would stay unaware for as long as they needed him to. Wei Ying was right after all, he would not be able to lie if uncle asked him directly about what they were doing. So he had to stay in the dark.

(But still, damn you Sect Leader Jiang! Why did it have to be you?.. No, he was not sulking!)

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