Millie felt more than a little lost in life, unsure of what she wanted to do. It seems that waking up in this Stone World is the perfect opportunity for self-discovery — after all, the Kingdom of Science could always use more helping hands in any field one could think of. She bounces from task to task, providing help wherever it's needed. She's bound to find something to dedicate herself to, right...?
Intro post! ... That should have been my first, but I didn't get the idea until later, so whatever. Anyway, this is a DCST OC blog where I'll, yep, post stuff about my DCST OC. And others. Mostly my friends' OCs. Because I love them.
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Tags: Fluff, Softness, Established Relationship (Dating), A Dip Into Hua's Mentality And How She's Been Taken Advantage Of Before, Implied Past SA, Nothing Graphic or Explicit
Word Count: 914
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Night settled over them with its breath held-- everything was warm and familiar, the cabin filled with the kind of quiet that only belonged to two people who shared enough nights to forget where one's limbs ended and the other's began. Sai curled around Hua from behind, face tucked into the slope of her neck, his breathing slow and even. He always did this before he slept, as if her scent alone could anchor him and make him sink into dreamland.
One of his hands absentmindedly moved downward. His fingers brushed her hip, then went to the soft dip of her waist. His fingers were mapping and memorizing every texture of hers.
She felt Sai's hand drift lower in the dark-- the pace slow, lazy, and thoughtless. His fingers brushed over the softness of her stomach, tracing her warmth as though mapping familiar terrain, and she relaxed automatically.
...then he settled between her thighs.
Her heart stuttered from old recognition-- muscle memory clicking into place like a lock clicking shut.
'I know this. I know where this goes.'
Her thighs parted by a fraction, the reflex older than her relationship with Sai. The action was older than her boundaries and older than the person she had grown into.
There were men who touched her like the opening move of a routine they assumed she wanted. There were men who kissed her neck because they expected her to arch into their hold. Hands on her thighs always meant one thing without question. Implications were enough to let them continue.
She's lived it too many times. The routine always had a touch drifting downward, a leg nudging her own apart, and a mouth murmuring against her ear as if that made anything gentler. Her mind remembered the familiar choreography of a man's hand searching in the dark. It was always slow enough to feign innocence. It was low enough to find what he wanted and warm enough to coax cooperation.
Her stomach tightened in a deep sinking way she hated; the feeling teetering between dread and anticipation. She braced for the shift of weight, the familiar escalation, and the cue she was trained to follow.
The moment his touch wandered lower by half an inch, something deep in her uncoiled sharply. It felt like there was a fist in her stomach. Her mind didn't want to believe Sai would do that. Not him, not after everything he's proved himself to be; but mental spirals rarely asked for permission. Her heart dropped, heavy and bitter.
'I thought he was different. I thought-'
Her fingers unconsciously curled into the sheets. An awful sinking dread poured through her. Has she been wrong about him this whole time? And because her body remembered too well, she did the worst thing. She opened her legs a little, bracing for the next thing.
It was instinct. It was in the old learned script.
Follow the routine. It is easier that way and we can ruin him tomorrow.
However, Sai felt all of that. Her tension, her brittle breathing, and the way she yielded in a way that didn't feel like yielding at all. His hand paused instantly. His voice was barely above a whisper, his breath warm against her shoulder.
"Hua? Are you okay…?"
She blinked, startled by the fact he stopped. He slowly and carefully slipped his hand away from her, as if her body were a bead made of wound glass and he feared leaving fingerprints on a fracture.
"Did I make you uncomfortable?"
"I… no, I- I thought… I thought you wanted better access, love-"
"Access… to what?"
His tone wasn't teasing, coy, nor was he playing dumb. He genuinely didn't know. She gave the faintest tilt of her hips, heat creeping beneath her skin. Sai slightly lifted his head from her shoulder. She could practically see him tilt his head and frown.
"Do not feign ignorance with me… You know what I am referring to."
He blinked once, pausing as if she just asked why the moon rose at night.
"Hua.. I wasn't reaching for anything."
Her breath shivered. He nudged his forehead against the back of her neck apologetically.
"I was just trying to hold you- and you thought I wanted-- that..?"
Her chest tightened painfully when his voice dimmed. She only nodded and hummed in response.
"Sorry- I'll keep my hand up."
Once Sai said that, her shoulders began to loosen. Sai's pulse eased as he felt her relax. He kept his hand hovering near her hip, now not daring to let it slip further down like earlier.
The taut coil in her stomach loosened fractionally, and he could feel it. The tension began to melt away into the warmth of the moment. Sai gently rested his hand again on her waist, higher than before. He pressed his cheek to her shoulder, breathing her in, anchoring them both in the stillness.
"Is that better...?"
"So much better.."
"I promise I wasn't trying to start anything- I just- I'm sorry."
Her eyes stung, the burn that existed now having nothing to do with tears. Her heart found a slower rhythm, syncing in some small way with the gentle pulse of his thumb resting on her skin. Every small exhale was a reassurance now. She was safe. She wasn't going to be pushed. Her body and mind, so accustomed to bracing for intrusion, was learning that it could trust this.
I lack both the uterus and the patience required to entertain your strange delusions. Were my phallus bleeding, it would signify a terminal illness, not a menstruation.
Do find a more literate way to excuse your own shortcomings.
Furthermore, reducing my perceived ‘anger’ to a hormonal cycle is inherently sexist.
It serves as a deliberate attempt to dismiss my masculinity while simultaneously trivializing menstruation—relying on a tired trope historically used to invalidate women’s legitimate emotions.
I lack both the uterus and the patience required to entertain your strange delusions. Were my phallus bleeding, it would signify a terminal illness, not a menstruation.
Do find a more literate way to excuse your own shortcomings.
The army ant is a nomadic and carnivorous species. Unlike a lot of other bugs that will usually make permanent nests army ants will make temporary ones by linking together to protect their queen! They really are an amazing species!
They travel usually in swarms to overwhelm their prey consisting of other insects, spiders, and even things like small lizard or frogs! They’re so remarkable!
