nova's oc writing blog

Hey there! I finally decided that finding stuff on this blog is getting too difficult, so. Here's a post I can pin with links to all my pieces (that I will hopefully remember to update lol)

I will sort them by character and by order in which you should best read them. Some characters that have a lot of overlap will be put together (everything I have written about Rime was also about Shon Ling, so they're one category.)

Stories are written in english and 3rd person narrator unless specified here otherwise.

Enjoy!

Dr. MacHale:

Intimacy (short piece about their work ethic)

Anger (first session with a new patient)

Nature (checking up on a more difficult project)

Hope:

Swords (short piece where I use weapons as a metaphor for being trans)

Little By Little (German, 2nd Person focused on Hope. Gwen is mentioned)

Body Positivity (1st Person, short piece w/ lots of gender euphoria)

Clouds (about her death, Gwen is mentioned again)

Differences (Conversation with Yolara about her death and what came after, sharing a body, and past battles)

Luke:

Scars (wholesome trans body positivity)

Natsolis:

Community (short piece on them being restless af, mentions of Hope and Gwen)

The Wolf (1st Person, mentions of Hope and Gwen again)

Destruction (Murder as a flirting technique)

Warmth (him being a mess about Kira #1)

Bond (him being a mess about Kira #2)

Nobody:

Storytelling (Fairytale style story)

Tears (Letter to Lykta, about Persephone, death, and moving on)

Rafael

Bloom (about his relationship with Inigo, and their garden)

RimeLing:

Touch (Huang Zhenling narrating, little a nsfw)

The Moon Will Sing (Huang Zhenling narrating, sadness)

Want You Gone (Rime narrating, more sadness)

Together (3rd Person, main focus on Rime, proposal scene!)

Love (Huang Zhenling narrating, lots a nsfw)

Mirror (Rime, little a horror)

Healing (Huang Zhenling, getting better.)

Tama:

Boxes (short piece about gender and such)

Polyamory (short piece on them with Valtris and Augustine)

Familiar (The Chorusing Island Aftermath)

Yadira:

Heart (just vibes)

Terms of Service (Eye of Ra aftermath)

Distrust (feat. Cy, hot stuff)

Weather (Yadira narrating, TMA AU, written as a statement, you do not need to know anything about TMA for this one and there's no spoilers)

Acceptance (Murder without plot, hot stuff)

Queertober Project (including the ones already featured in the character-specific sections)

1: Comfort (Letter from Shon Ling)

2: Boxes (Tama, gender stuff)

3: Heart (Yadira's work ethic)

4: Swords (Hope, classic mix of gender™ and grief)

5: Polyamory (Tama/Augustine/Valtris, my loves)

6: Body Positivity (Hope, gender euphoria central)

7: Intimacy (Dr. MacHale, married to their work)

8: Utopia (Poetry, POV Rime)

9: Pink (Kalypso, "I'm not like other girls")

CNs:

(mentioned) discrimination and prejudice, death of a parent, religion

(very basic context: Yolara, stuck in an enormous dungeon crawl, made a wish to bring her long dead mother back which of course didn't go the way she expected. This is them talking things out during an evening watch.)

It took a while until the camp grew quiet enough for Yolara to bring herself to speak.

“Mum? Do you think we can talk like this?” Her voice was faint, she felt like the volume did not matter much as long as she could get the words out, and she did not want the others to hear too much. She had sensed her mother’s presence close to the front of her mind ever since Sam had restored it a few hours ago. From then on the two of them had both been conscious, sometimes it hadn’t been clear to Yolara whether she or Hope was the one telling their arm to swing the hammer. Sharing a body was still strange to both of them, that was part of what she wanted to talk about.

Hope did not reply directly, but there was an understanding that the words had been heard. So Yolara continued.

“This isn’t what I had in mind when I wished for you to come back, you know… It’s weird. And I try to tell you things when you’re in charge of the body, but I never know if you can hear me…”

“I can,” Hope’s voice cut off her daughter’s, “most of it, at least. But this is much clearer.”

“Alright.” Yolara straightened her back a little.”Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re here. Anything to feel a little less alone down here.”

A shy smile spread over their face. “I was with you as often as I could ever since… well.”

“Since you died?” Yolara cut in, “Yeah, great job on that.”

“There were many people who needed my help, just as in life.” Hope said, her daughter’s words clearly having hit their mark. “I was there in your fights,and anytime you called for me, I listened. I’m sorry you couldn’t feel me there. And I couldn’t follow you down here, into Orcus’ domain.”

Yolara scoffed. “I’m glad you had the time to help out strangers while Gwen and I dealt with the hole you left.”

“I didn’t want to leave you, Yolla. I wish I hadn’t, and I am sorry, but what could I have done? I knew you two could pull through, and wallowing in guilt wouldn’t have helped anyone.”

“So every time you said you’d always have my back,” Yolara said, struggling to keep her voice down, “and that nothing could happen to us as long as you were there… What did you expect to happen once you weren’t?”

“I taught you to look after yourself, too.”

“You taught me that we are alone. That no matter how much good we do, people will still hate us and leave us for dead if they get the chance. That’s what those fuckers did to you, after all. There’s a brother I barely remember who punched some asshole for me when I was four and then disappeared. Even the people who’d praise your work in the community always talked about ‘you people’ and called you ‘one of the good ones.’ You were an exception to them, and I was a disappointment because I didn’t want to hide how much those things hurt.

And then you went out and got yourself killed, I didn’t even know how until you told the others here yesterday. Gwen still doesn’t. We couldn’t take care of the orphanage without you, stopped taking in new children, and the old ones all left or died within a year or so. So that was all the real friends I had, gone. The respect you had earned didn’t transfer to us for a lot of people. I couldn’t protect anyone in your stead, I was twelve! And from the people who did bother talking to us after that, all I ever heard was how great you were. I was always just your kid, an excuse for people to tell me what you did for them. Never my own person. That is why I left, to have people look at me and not see your absence.”

There was a long pause. Any thought of not waking the others had left Yolara’s mind while she was spilling her guts, and now, realising how loud she had gotten, she glanced over their camp hoping desperately that her companions slept deeper than her.

Hope, in turn, took her time to process what had been said. When finally, a question formed in her mind, she could not keep her daughter from hearing it.

“Why did you bring me back, then?”

Yolara laughed; the kind of tired, desperate laugh of someone longing for a simple answer they could give. “I missed you. I guess on some level I did feel your presence, and noticed that you couldn’t reach me down here. I lost my magic the first time I died here, that was a clue. I felt more alone than ever before. With every fight I felt more out of my depth. There was that voice in my head, sounding like all the people who wouldn’t shut up about your heroics, that told me you would handle this so much better. You’d be out of here by now, with Orcus dead. And the Efreeti bottle was right there, one time when we were resting it all became too much, so I let him out and asked if he could bring you back. I guess I wasn’t precise enough with my wish…”

For the first time since the conversation started, Hope took full control of the body, careful not to push Yolara out too harshly, so that she still felt everything firsthand. Fingers gently tapped their shoulders, as Hope pulled them into the closest thing to an embrace one body was capable of. “Oh, lille venn…” she whispered. “I felt like that too when I was your age. Alone. Overwhelmed. Those people exaggerate quite a bit. I can’t get through this place unaffected, I don’t think anyone can. Surely not alone.”

Yolara did not try to find words, just took in what little warmth Hope could give her. They stayed like this for a long while, and she felt reminded of something she could not place. A moment of solace similar to this one, far away, and faded.

Eventually Hope broke the silence again. “I know this, us sharing a body, isn’t exactly what you wanted. I wouldn’t have picked it either had it been up to me. Still, I’m glad I can talk to you again. Gods, I worry for you. I know what you’ve been through, and I wish I could have done more for you. Half the things you’ve done I don’t understand in the slightest. You take after Gwen more than you might think, books and alchemy and making plans were never my thing. I’m so proud of who you’ve become.”

“I barely know who that is.” Yolara whispered. “Too many people wanted me to be you. And now… I don’t know where you end and I begin.” Neither of them knew whose tear it was that ran down their face. Hope took a deep breath for the both of them. “We’ll figure it out together. Sharing, switching, all that. I can leave the reins to you for the most part, if you want. Should you need me to take them for a while, I’ll be there.”

“What if someone wants to talk to you specifically?”

“Then you decide if you want to let me do that. If the answer is no, that is completely fine.”

Yolara gently untangled their limbs, and laid down flat on the cold cavern floor. “That sounds good.” She said, “But I also want us to not have secrets if we’re stuck like this.”

Hope agreed, but knew the question that was coming, so much that Yolara rushed to get it out before she could change the subject.

“What exactly happened with you and Tiamat?”

“Yolla, there’s a reason I never talked about that.” Had Yolara not been able to feel Hope’s shame in her heart, her voice would have shown it just as well.

“You didn’t tell Gwen either, did you? We both heard so much about your deeds, but you never mentioned whatever that shit was?”

“I didn’t want to trouble fae. Or you.” The words were even quieter than before. “So many of the things Gwen went through even before we met were my fault. I worried fae couldn’t look at me the same if fae knew. And I didn’t want you to have to keep my secrets.”

They both kept silent for a moment, as Yolara tried to piece the crumbs together. Something to do with Tiamat that caused great trouble to Gwen… “Were you a cultist?”

“What?” Hope’s befuddlement made their shared head shake. “No, dear, no.” A heavy sigh passed their lips, and Yolara mentally took a step back, feeling the weight of the coming words. “A few years before you were born, I lived in a frontier town across the sea, working at the temple, and occasionally did a few jobs with the local adventurer’s guild. I was already following Bahamut when I got there, and tried to help in his name as best I could. On one of our trips, we discovered a cult making efforts to summon Tiamat back into the material plane. Three other fighters and I made it our mission to stop them. Eilgwyn, a fellow priestess and bard. Tyke, who drew power from a being of the lower planes. And Clust, a druid I never quite got to know. But the cultists were closer than we thought. We found out we could not prevent their ritual, but might be able to vanquish the Scaled Tyrant while she was still weak from her revival.

The night before we would head into battle, Bahamut spoke to me. He told me he had faith in me, said he was glad it was me fighting in his name. And he told me how the last revival of the Scaled Tyrant had happened. How chromatic and metallic dragons alike had fallen to her corruption. How even he, the purest of them all, had lost himself, and caused just as much destruction as his rival. So he asked me to…”

Hope paused, and Yolara felt a tear running down the face they now shared, as well as a lump in their throat. Then, for the first time since they had gotten this new, malleable body, it shifted to a form that was not Yolara or Hope, but that of and old human man, who, in a voice that told of aeons spent dreading this request, said:

“Do not let this come to pass again. Should she get the better of me this time, I trust you to strike me down. Promise me that, Hope Osahdottir.”

As the image of the old man faded, pale brown skin turning red, Yolara understood.

“You had to kill your own god.”

Hope nodded. “We were not fast enough. I did not see who dealt the final blow on Tiamat, because moments before that the Platinum Dragon’s scales turned dull grey, and as she died he flew into a rage even greater than hers. I honoured my promise, and I stopped him from hurting anyone. I lost most of my magic, as it had come from him. I couldn’t even save Clust from his injuries then. The same happened to every other priest of his, including Gwen. Until I died, not a day passed where I didn’t feel the weight of that battle.”

"Shit." was the only thing Yolara could say as a million pieces clicked into place in her mind. Sam's comments, Hope's anger at hearing the Tyrant's name; and before all this, her fixation on Bahamut's ideals, as well as the sombre tone whenever she talked about him, the fact that she settled down and stopped going on grand adventures so soon…

Once more, neither of them knew whose tears began to flow, though both had reason to claim them.

"Act of Creation" - Tama

her laugh would make

the flowers bloom,

not when she was alone

but each time I heard it

I'd cup a few daisy

or daffodil buds

and breathe some life

into the young blossoms

so she'd see in them

"I think we're lost" - Natsolis

I think we're lost

but we can find

ourselves again

selves worth keeping

I think we've sinned

but we can change

make amends

heal the bleeding we caused

make no mistake,

we don't get to go to heaven

but I won't let hell have you yet

I think we're lost

but know, my love

"Body Swap" - Huang Zhenling

I slept for a week to ensure

you would stay gone

I woke up in a new skin

that had the colour of your eyes

with legs too long

ears too sharp

and a voice like yours

but in spite of all

that reminds me of you

this is a body you've never touched

I'll learn to love it, every part

"Limbs" - Inigo

What is there for me to teach

a being

vast and wise such as yourself

it seems

the student should be me

But,

in the tangling of limbs I offer you

something new.

"A Separation" - Natsolis

By the turn of the years

I find new places

to haunt for a while

And new friends

To leave when it's time

Maybe I pride myself

On knowing when to move on

Though I hope they forget me

Maybe I like knowing they won't

Maybe I like the pain I leave behind

"When I Opened My Eyes" - Vice

For the first time

it had a face of its own

eyes opened to a world it had never seen

but knew as part of itself

A shame, then,

that those eyes did not obey it

over the one who made them

you enjoy my writing here?

Curious what some of the characters I write about look like?

I've got another side blog for my art that you might wanna check out then. Currently I'm reposting a lot from my Twitter.

I'll gladly be a thorn in your side

you're a gashing wound in mine

an infection that almost killed my friend

and took a year from me

I hope I'm an annoyance,

hope that's all you see me as

I can't remember the good times,

why should I let you?

I hope I'm a pain in your ass

you've brought enough pain to us

I won't be quiet now

or give up friendships for you

'never your intention'

but it happened all the same

that truth still stands, I don't care

CNs: death, storms

As it turned out, it was not the kind of heroic death she had envisioned, or the peaceful end among her family that she had begun to hope for in the last few years. As it turned out, Hope Osahdottir would in fact die alone, betrayed and left behind by a group of mercenaries who could use the services of a priestess but were unwilling to share their pay.

Hope had tried to defend herself, of course. But she was spent from the mission, the rain hindered her more than them, and amidst her trying to talk them out of fighting the group got the better of her.

Thus she lay in the mud now, the ground around her stained red, and gathered the last of her magical strength to reach out, sending her words to the people she would have wanted to die with.

Yolara

Tell Gwen I love faer, and you too. I won't come home this time, but I'll be with you. I'm so proud of you.

She felt the connection sizzle out after those words, but nevertheless she kept talking. "You are so strong, Yolara. I'll still watch you grow, and I'll be by your side. I can't protect you anymore, I don't need to, I think…"

now you’re gone but I’ll be okay

your hot whiskey eyes have fanned the flame

and maybe I’ll burn a little brighter tonight

let the fire breathe me back to life

Two years since we parted, and what is most remarkable about it is how today is the first time in weeks I spared a thought for you. Just a few months ago that would have seemed unthinkable. Now though, knowing you are gone for good, my mind is finally on other things.

I turned down the offers I got from Max and Ivory, and thankfully they understood my reasoning. How badly it would reflect on them to be working with one of your old accomplices. I will continue my scientific work instead, and pay back my debt that way. Heaven knows how long that will take.

Sometimes I think hurting over you was better than whatever this is, because frankly I do not know if I deserve a second chance, and it was nice knowing what I wanted, even if it was unattainable.

Misery is trying their best to keep me occupied, as are Chimera and Thyria. I think Bones is still uncomfortable around me, and I can hardly blame him. But we are getting along just fine on board game night, and make a formidable team sometimes. Maybe that is the reason the others insist on putting us together so much.

Now, what else... Well, I met someone new. We have gone out for dinner twice now, and I would say both went very well. Misery is practically begging me to introduce him to them, as if I cared about their approval when it comes to my dating life. I have probably told him more about them than the other way around. I never pictured myself as the type to talk about nothing but his child on dates, but here I am.

cns: talk of death, grief, and loss of loved ones

Lykta belongs to Rose

Lykta,

I hope this letter finds you well. Apologies for the long wait, as I write this it has already been months since we met, and it might be some weeks until you read this, but it took me some time to properly put into words the concerns I had and still have for you, and I wanted to do it properly. I told you when we parted, this is hard to hear, but I believe it needs to be said, for both your own wellbeing and that of your friends who have passed.

The way you called for Lucy (was that the name?) to help identify the staff we found, let her speak through your mouth, it told me all I needed to know about the source of your special abilities. The short version of what I will tell you now is this: You should let them go.

I have some familiarity with the realms of the dead, for the goddess guiding me rules over many of them. More broadly, she stands for the cycle of the seasons, night and day, life and death and rebirth. All cycles, all processes where no step of the way is less important than the one before it, she governs, and beside other things she has taken a special interest in caring for the souls of those departed prematurely. Now, you need not fear her smiting you for holding on to your friends the way you do - the Dread Maiden is not a wrathful goddess by far, despite her title - though I can assure you she is not pleased about it. She and I know their souls belong with her, where they will enjoy a pleasant afterlife. I have seen souls that had been denied that fate, their stories are not ones you would want your friends to experience. Be they poltergeists, shadows, banshees, or any other form of spirit, none of the souls forced to stay in this realm keep their old nature for long. I know you think you are doing them a favour by keeping them in this familiar world, but you are mistaken, for they no longer belong here and eventually this fact will corrupt them beyond recognition, until the only mercy anyone can offer them will be to destroy them completely. No afterlife, no deity or cosmic force will be able to heal that damage.

This advice will be difficult to apply, I understand that all too well, but I believe you, too, will benefit from giving your friends over to Lady Persephone. You must already realize that this state you have them in is not them in their full extent, that it is but an imitation of what you had when they were still alive. You are left longing, stuck in the past. Should you wish it, I can help you through the process, help you truly grieve your lost friends, and cry those tears with you. Sadly there is no reliable way for you to contact me, though I am confident that if you express your desire to meet again, Lady Persephone will find a way to let me know.

I hope you make the right decision,

With best wishes

CNs: Gaslighting, unreality, altered reality, emotional manipulation, mind control, mind reading, invasion of privacy, medical malpractice, evil therapist trope™ What can I say except "It's Dr MacHale.

The door swung open to reveal one more plain grey room, setting itself apart from the rest of the complex not in the way it was built but by the utter mess inside it. Clothes piled on the floor among pillow stuffings, remnants of food seemingly from days ago, torn blankets and sheets of paper, upon patches of damp earth and fallen leaves that had no reason to be inside a building otherwise as clean as this one. Doctor MacHale sighed deeply. Best to get this over with, move on to more pleasant patients.

“Miss Redriver,” they stepped over a moss-covered tree trunk that had sprung up from the concrete floor overnight, closing the door behind them while scanning the room for their patient. “Did you sleep well?”

With every step, the room’s walls disappeared behind a denser mass of fog and foliage, soon becoming entirely hidden from view. Damned fey magic… Doctor MacHale did not envy the cleaning staff who would have to take care of this place once the patient was relocated again. The plane bleeding had already begun here,so a move would be needed soon.

“Morning, Doc!” a shrill voice rang from the opposite corner, soon joined by the sounds of small feet jumping towards them over this half-forest, half-clinic floor, before Doctor MacHale spotted the voice’s owner, her green face poking out of the underbrush, eyes wide with an open-mouthed smile. “Well enough, I suppose. Good to see you!”

“You’ve been busy,” they commented, gesturing to the patch of mushrooms poking their caps through the floor. “Dreamt of running away again?”

The Patient gave an energetic nod, now stepping out into the small clearing that remained. “Yep. You wanna hear about it?” Doctor MacHale made a point of looking at their watch, flipping through some notes on their clipboard, and clicking their pen a few times as if contemplating. “I would love to, do you think it will take long?”

“Who’s Kindling?” she asked, focusing on the pages they had turned over and the list of their other appointments for the day.

“None of your business. And I asked you something.” They turned to a new page, and started writing.

“I can make it quick…” she started, but the moment Doctor MacHale finished writing, she paused for a moment, then continued, her golden eyes and voice now devoid of all emotion “No… I got pretty far this time. It will take some time to tell.”

Doctor MacHale smiled, taking some delight in seeing the plant life around their patient wilt as her tone flattened and eyes unfocused, and underlined the words they just wrote. Be honest with me, Lazuli.

“You know what we will do then.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Good.” They said, laid a finger onto their patient’s forehead and closed their eyes. “Let’s see…”

Images began to flow into their mind right away, unordered and plagued by the kind of leaps in logic characteristic for dreams, but Doctor MacHale understood what they needed. A quest in the mountains to find a lost party of explorers, a steep climb, a fight against giants, a dark maze, choking vines, another giant that wasn’t one after all… Not useless, per se, but nothing stood out immediately as something they could use for further treatment. They would have to take a closer look later. Though the fact that the patient was starting to understand she was dreaming was promising. Next step would be to make her reach that conclusion when awake as well.

Satisfied with their findings for now, they broke the connection, ending the charm from earlier along with it.

“Thank you.” they said, taking a few notes right away. “I will come back to you about that one.”

The patient shuddered as the magic left her mind for the moment. “Give me the modified version, you mean?”

They rolled their eyes, and readjusted their glasses before continuing to write. “The unreliability of your memory is not my doing. Remember, you had trouble recalling your recent past before we began your treatment, that is part of why you are here.”

“Right…”

“I’ll be off then, if you do not have any pressing questions?”

The patient shook her head. “Nothing you don’t know about yet, doc,” she replied with a smirk. “I think the door is over there, but I might be wrong.”

“Thank you.”

CNs: nsfw

I come back home to find you on the couch, staring at the ceiling. You do not seem to notice me yet, focused on something I cannot see. I call your name and get no reaction, it is only when I step up and place a hand on your arm that you turn to look at me. A spark of joyous recognition lights up your eyes as they meet mine.

"Hey." you whisper, a tired smile spreading over your face.

"Are you alright?" I ask and take my place beside you, and you waste no time pulling me closer for a kiss. Taken by surprise, I barely have time to respond to the sensation before we part again, and you rest your forehead against mine instead.

"I am now," you whisper, "Welcome home."

I can’t hold back a laugh; though your words barely ease my concern. I lean back to get a better look at you. The bags under your eyes have disappeared, but still, somehow you seem… spent. “Is it getting worse?” I ask.

You shake your head, clearly trying to be reassuring, “No, dear. I can deal with it just fine.”

“Are you sure?” I should not push it, I know, but it has been weeks now, and still all I have heard about that last battle was from the news, not from you. “If you need to talk about what happened, if you blame yourself for-”

“Hey!” I am interrupted by your finger on my lips, and softly but insistently, you say, “I appreciate the offer, but I did what I had to. I know I made the right call, so there is no blame or anything of that sort. Can you trust me on that?”

I nod faintly. You haven’t moved your finger.

“Good.”

We stay in that position for a while, neither wanting to end the moment. I wonder if your hands have always been this cold, or if it is just the winter air. It is not unpleasant, though, and I can tell you feel the same. Our eyes meet again, and a smirk spreads over your face.

“Do you have any other plans for tonight?” you ask, and your hand finally shifts, now cupping my cheek.

“Nothing in particular,” I reply. “What did you have in mind?” I already know, of course, but hell, this is much more fun.

“Well, darling… there’s ways you can help me feel better besides talking.” And with that, you give me a push, just firm enough that I end up on the floor. I could have stopped it if I wanted to, but right now we are clearly after the same thing, and before you have time to give me any instruction, I am on my knees in front of you. The look you give me, that pleased little look… I expect to see a lot of it in the near future. Firmly, I grasp your hand to pull you down into another kiss, this one much messier than the last, as I am more focused on unbuttoning your shirt while I have you within reach. You smile into it, lazily catching my lower lip between your teeth, and a heavy sigh escapes my throat. Once I get free, you quickly pull my shirt over my head and toss it aside. I move downwards, slowly but surely placing kisses along your neck, when you seize my wrist to guide my hand further down, between your legs. The message is clear: ‘Get on with it.’ Before I do, I kiss your throat one last time, just above the soft skin of your gills, and the air hisses as you suck it in. I’ve come to love that spot.

Your pants have hit the floor by now, all I have to do is slip a hand between your thighs and push them apart. You lean back on the couch, fingers lazily draped against my chin, as I run my fingertips up your thighs, not as slowly as I would like, but I feel your impatience, and in a way, I share it too. It has been a while since we have had time for ourselves, and since the battle you have not been in the mood. A few strokes are enough to get you fully hard, and I finally get into place between your knees, finally take you in, finally feel your weight on my tongue again. You let out a low hum; I glance up to see that look on your face once more.

“Do you know how pretty you look like this?” you ask, knowing how my heart flutters at the praise, “Now get to work, won’t you?”

Not that you needed to say that. I would not have been able to keep still much longer, too inviting is your taste, and too sweet are the hums and gasps I can draw out of you. I run my tongue along your length, start moving my head, and surely enough your sounds of agreement set in. How I’ve longed to have you like this! That sweetest music coming from your lips, feeling your hand gently holding me in place, your pleasured look meeting my eyes whenever I open them, your taste and smell filling my mind just as your cock fills my mouth, and my warmth against the cold of your skin.

My hands wander over your thighs, your stomach and hips, caressing every bit of smooth skin they can reach, almost as if of their own volition, until I move one back to start stroking you again while my lips and tongue are busy with the head. I hear you gasp for air, and the hand against my cheek disappears, but you leave me no time to complain before I feel it grab a strand of my hair and you pull, just enough to hurt, forcing a muffled moan out of me in return.

“Don’t think I forgot how much you like that, darling…” you mutter, “You are doing this so well, you deserve something in return.”

Again, I moan against you, and I feel your breath tremble and muscles tense up, giving me a split second to prepare as you thrust your hips forward. I remove my hand from the base of your cock, instead letting you in all the way, and start swallowing, feeling the first drops passing from your tip. Your groans grow louder, and once more I feel the sharp pain on my scalp as you pull. It is heavenly, and maybe it is the time we spent apart, the weeks and months without being able to love you like this, that make it seem so much better than what I am used to. Not that any of the times we did this before were bad, of course, but fuck, the way you are currently occupying all of my senses with pure bliss is something else. And the feeling seems to be mutual.

“Are you trying to make me cum already?”

I see no need to reply directly, instead doubling my efforts to draw more out of you, longing to taste you. But you won’t have it, and thrust into my throat one last time before pushing my head away with both hands and pulling out. My disappointment must be showing all too clearly, both on my face and through the whimper I give off at the sudden stop.

“You can have that later, love.” You slip out of your unbuttoned shirt, push yourself up, and as you get on your feet I can barely withstand the temptation to slip my lips around you again. “Right now I want something else.”

I understand, and that prospect seems just as inviting, so I take your hand to get up myself.

You do not let go, instead closing the gap between us immediately for a deep, impassioned kiss, undoubtedly tasting remnants of yourself there. It is only when my back hits the wall that I notice you have been leading us away from the couch. It knocks the breath out of me for a moment, just before I have the chance to regain it you stick your hand down the pants that I am still wearing for some fucking reason, letting me continue to gasp for air. I barely realized how hard blowing you has gotten me until now, and suddenly I am yearning for contact there. You quickly get my pants out of the way, after which our eyes meet again.

“Eager, are we?”

I nod, whimpering again at your touch.

“Good.” is all you say to that, and the wait is killing me at this point. Payback for testing your patience earlier, I guess, but that does not make it any better.

I press out a pained expression, and you, you little shit, have the audacity to laugh.

“What is it, dear?”

‘You know exactly what it is.’ is what I want to say, but somehow “Ughh, dammit Rime… Just take me already.” is what comes out.

I can see your eyes darken at that, and fuck, I don’t think I’ve seen something this hot in a long time.

You gesture for me to turn around, which I do, putting my arms against the wall, and waste no time to start loosening me up, leaning above me, your chest against my back.

“Do you know how many times I have thought about this while out there?” you whisper in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine that I am certain you can feel, “How often I would wonder when I’d get to see you like this again?”

“It’s been the- the same for me.” I reply, cut off halfway through as you slip in another finger, somehow finding just the right spot with almost every thrust already, “Gods, I’ve missed you.”

Instead of a reply, you start pressing kisses all over my shoulder blades, all the while continuing to work on me with your fingers, until you pull them out all at once. Instead I can feel you positioning yourself behind me.

“May I?” you ask, and I can hear that damned smile in your voice.

“Please…”

That is all the invitation you need, and the second you slam into me I almost lose my balance, catching myself against the wall just in time. For a short while you just stay put, waiting for me to readjust, and soon I start pushing back against you, seeking more. You take this as a sign to start moving, pushing further, once again finding the right spots to make me see stars with ease. One hand slips forwards, beginning to stroke, I feel my fingernails cutting into the skin of my palms in clenched fists, and you step up the pace yet again. I begin to wonder how long you will be able to keep this up. Your grip on my thigh must be leaving bruises by now. Still you continue hammering into me, unrelenting, and I do not know if I want to ask for more, to get my release or stay right here as long as I possibly can.

Maybe you sense this, that indecision, and your hand’s movements grow firmer. “I told you I know I made the right call…” you press out, underlining every other word with a powerful thrust, “Do you know how I’m so sure of that?”

“How?” is all I can get out in between deep groans, but I’m sure it is all you want.

“Because whatever I have to do for this, it’s worth it. Whatever it takes to be with you, Huang Ru, I’ll do it.”

And somehow amidst everything else, it is those words that send me over the edge, taking you with me. You keep moving as long as you can, keep pushing, riding out every last second of both our orgasms, until finally you collapse against my back. We breathe for a moment, basking in the feeling, before you pull out and get to cleaning us up.

“That was nice…” I whisper. You just smile back at me. I move to catch a strand of your hair that has slipped past your ear and push it back. It’s gotten quite long now, a good look if you ask me.

“Shit, are you hurt?” You stare at my palm, concern showing clearly in your eyes.

“Huh?” I take a look myself to see the small wounds my nails left earlier. “Oh, that. It’s alright, no worries.” You take my hand once more, much more gently now, and press a kiss to the cuts, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Thank you, love.”

CNs: murder, violence, mental and physical torture, degradation (but not the sexual kind), non-consensual knife-play (also not sexual), sadism (not sexy again)

A woman’s face hit the ground, and her moans of pain mingled with the heavy rain and the sound of heels clicking on the wet cobblestone which rang across the yard. Night had fallen some hours ago, and most of the windows of the city had gone dark by now.

“What do you want from me?” she stammered out, and Yadira laughed.

“Only your life, honey.”

“What?” The woman tried her best to put some distance between herself and her pursuer, crawling, feeling her feet unable to carry her.

Still, Yadira laughed. “I will tell you exactly what I’m gonna do with you. Not that it matters to you, because the first step is that I will kill you. Nice and simple.” She caught up to her victim, who quickly found her limbs cramping, and her cries became nothing more than a low whimper as she collapsed onto the ground once more. Now unable to talk or move much at all, she could only watch as Yadira knelt beside her and pulled her chin up to look into her eyes, widened in fear.

“Don’t worry, it’s not because of anything you did,” she explained, “I’m new here, you know, and while I could get the information I need to blend in by asking around, doing some field work… Taking a local’s shadow is so much simpler, and more fun too. So I’m gonna take yours, pretend to be you for a while, and learn all I need to know from what is left of your soul. I could have compelled anyone in that bar to come here with me, you just happened to catch my eye. Bad luck, really. That’s all this is.”

The smile on her face grew even bigger at the woman’s reaction. Seeing her realize just how little her life meant was exhilarating. That blank fear in knowing it could all be taken from her for no good reason, through no fault of her own; Yadira loved to see it. But she was not done yet.

“You seem to get my point. So you know there is nothing you can do to stop me from slitting your throat, which means I don’t need to hold you back, right? You’ll just stay here and let me do my work? I cannot promise you that I will make it quick if you don’t resist, but maybe I will be more considerate to your family when I take your place for the next few days. Depends on how annoying they are. Anyway, you get what I’m saying?”

The woman, of course, did not reply, but Yadira noticed the slight change in her expression, showing that she understood, and that look of surrender was almost sweeter than that of blank fear.

“Alright.” She stood up, dropping the spell that bound her victim in place, and drew her blade in the same motion. The woman shivered, shook, but stayed where she was. “Get up.” Yadira hissed, and she complied as well as she could, for her knees were still far too weak to support her standing.

Even through the darkness and rain, she could see her attacker roll her eyes. “Kneel, then.” Yadira sighed, and that command was followed without much issue. She smiled, and the woman got the feeling that this was where she would have ended up either way while her eyes focused on the rapier now placed under her chin.

It would take some time for Yadira to grow tired of toying with this one, but sadly she had other things on her schedule.

“I’d have gotten to know you better some other day, maybe…” She thrust the sword forward, and as the blood spilled from the woman’s neck, her body began to crumble under the blade. “Say hi to Seth for me if you meet him.”