#((but I don't want to burn myself out on playing a muse I don't feel mostly in on))

[acr3ss-the-cosmos]

hrm... I haven't been feeling the muse for Rocket at all tbh. Gonna take him off the roster to focus on Chenhua and look into developing another HSR OC I have cooking up in my brain as well as potentially playing a Kirby muse.

[saeist]

"did it hurt?"

"falling from heaven? a little"

"more like crawling out of the depths of hell but okay.." you say under your breath. nagumo gasps and puts a hand over his chest at your implication

"hey, that's mean!" he points a finger at you

you roll your eyes, "i mean your tattoos.. stupid"

nagumo raises an eyebrow, glancing down on his arms before it all clicks. a sly smirk makes their way on his face. he leans in ever so slightly just to mess with you

"oh? so you were looking at me?"

"nagumo, just answer the damn question! did it hurt or not?" you grumbled, facepalming as the man continues without fail to annoy the shit out of you. it was just a basic question yet he couldn't even answer it properly

nagumo laughs plenty, poking fun of your angry face. (that he may or may not like so much) when he finally stops laughing, he wipes the tears of joy from his eyes, shaking his head

"eh, depends but mostly no" he finally answers, showing off his tattoos by rolling up the sleeves of his sweater. "some on my arms i did by myself while the rest were done by a tattoo artist at a parlor"

wait a second, did he just say he did some of his tattoos by himself?

you stopped listening the moment he said that he does some of his tattoos. your eyes dart over his arms, observing the lines of ink permanently etched on his skin. a million questions running through your mind as you stare at them. how long did they take? did it hurt? how did he managed to tattoo himself on both arms precisely and accurately? who is his tattoo artist? how much does he pay for one tattoo? do each tattoos hold a specific meaning?

"hello? earth to y/n?" nagumo waves a hand over your face. you must've been staring at him for a while. "i knew i was a looker but you don't have to ogle me" he teases, chuckling to himself

you finally return to your senses when his words processed in your head. you shake your head vigorously

"i was not!" you deny, crossing your arms

nagumo laughs again, "you were totally checking me out!"

"i will check you out myself at the nearest funeral home. do not test me"

nagumo whistles low, "whoa.. freaky. though you're in luck, i like them like that" he winks

you can feel yourself burn up with how smooth he was with words. effortlessly shutting you up by just playing along. damn you nagumo and your smooth talking!

"you know what? this is pointless. i should've asked rion instead where she gets her tattoos done" you murmured, having enough of this conversation with nagumo. all you wanted was to ask where he gets them done so you could probably get one as well but since he wasn't answering properly then forget it

you turn around to walk away from nagumo, but before you could actually get away from him, he grabs onto your arm, preventing you from walking away

"hold it!" nagumo says, tugging you lightly to make you face him. he holds in another laugh when he sees you glaring at him. "no need to look for rion when everything you need is literally right in front of you" he muses

you raise an eyebrow, "what the fuck does that even mean?"

"i mean i can tattoo you" nagumo says like it was the most obvious thing in the world

you blink once. twice. trying to process what he just said

"what?"

nagumo exhales sharply, rolling his eyes. why couldn't you get the hint?

"i just told you that i did some of my tattoos. so if you want one, i wouldn't mind doing it for you" nagumo explains, taking a good look at your arm. an empty canvas in his eyes. his fingers trace over your skin as if he was already planning what he wants to tattoo onto you

his touch alone is sending sparks all over your body but for some reason, you don't pull your arm away

"let me guess, you're going to tattoo a dick on my arm" you huffed, watching him trace random shapes on your skin

nagumo reluctantly lets go of your arm and puts his hands behind his head as he looks at you, grinning

"maybe. it would be funny as fuck" he shrugs, giggling to himself at the thought of actually tattooing a dick on your arm

"this is why i'm going to rion" you sigh, rolling your eyes yet again. there's just something about talking to nagumo that is so infuriating but at the same time, so endearing

"come on" nagumo drawls, "you and me? matching tattoos? just think about it"

the mere thought of getting matching tattoos with nagumo, who's gonna do it on you just somehow made your stomach flip

what the fuck?

"never in a million years" you scoff, starting to walk away from him. "i'm gonna go look for rion. bye"

nagumo, as sharp as ever, notices the faint blush on your cheeks at the mention of getting matching tattoos with him. he lets you walk away from him with a small smile on his face. he knows damn well that you aren't going to reject this offer

"offer still stands!" he calls out after you, "you know where to find me"

you respond by flipping him off without the need to look back. nagumo bursts out laughing before he carries on with his day

later that night, you find yourself contemplating on taking nagumo's offer. all it takes was a curious cat to get itself killed. you stand in front of a mirror, trying to map out where you would like to get inked

the memory of nagumo proposing of getting matching tattoos echoes in your mind like a broken record. you mentally curse yourself for holding onto the thought of getting something permanent together. it almost feels like its a commitment

you actually can't believe that you're even considering this. from nagumo at that

on the other side of the jcc building, nagumo was sprawled over his bed, busy solving sudoku puzzles when he hears his phone vibrate on his bedside table. he pauses, picking his phone up lazily before he smirks when it was a notification from you

[7:09 PM] y/n :) : hypothetically speaking, if i were to accept your offer of you tattooing me, what would it be?

nagumo grins widely. he knew it. you wouldn't able to resist such offer from him. he immediately types his response not even a minute later

[7:10 PM] nagumo (DO NOT REPLY): hypothetically it would be anything you'd like cus that means you'll have a piece of me on you forever ;) [7:10 PM] nagumo (DO NOT REPLY): so, you down?

[purplehypnospiral]

I'm sitting in his lap, tucked against him as we watch a movie together. His hands run through my hair until I'm so relaxed I'm almost drooling.

"That's it, sweet girl," he murmurs in my ear. "Stare and sink. You're doing so well. Just keep watching the movie. We're just watching a movie. You don't have to worry about anything else."

It occurs to me that he's been talking for a while, but it doesn't matter. We're just watching a movie. A spiral swirls on the screen and I lose myself in it.

His fingers creep up under my shirt until he's playing with my nipples.

I moan and squirm in his lap but he just laughs. "Keep watching the screen, princess. Don't let Daddy distract you."

I try to focus. "Whass happening?" I slur. My brain feels a bit like cotton candy.

"Shh, it's okay. You don't think right now, sweetheart. Let daddy think for you."

"Think for me?"

"That's right. No need to worry about anything. Daddy's here to help."

Everything is fuzzy. "Daddy help?"

"Good girl. Yes, Daddy will help. Just let go."

"Mmm"

"I bet you're so wet, aren't you princess?"

"Yes daddy," I moan. "So wet."

"Your poor little pussy," he says, bouncing my tits as he pulled on my sensitive nipples. I cry out. "I bet you need something for it, don't you?"

I can't think past the spiral, past the arousal building up inside of me. "Mmhmm!"

"What is it you need, princess? Do you need my fingers?" His hand skates gently along my inner thigh and my mind blanks with arousal.

"Ah!"

"Or maybe you need my mouth." He muses, teasing the sensitive part of my neck with his tongue. "Is that what you want? My mouth on your pussy?"

I feel like I'm burning up with need. A helpless, pitiful moan is the only answer I can give.

"Oh," he says, and his tone has lost its teasing, has taken on a darker edge. "I think I know what your pussy needs." He twists my nipples and my hips jerk. "You need my cock."

My eyes roll up in my head and suddenly there is a thought in my head. Yes, god, yes I need his cock. I need it so bad. I need him to fuck me. It's all I can think about, all I want, all I can remember ever wanting.

I whine, my pussy aching with the need to have him inside me (now please god right now).

He laughs again. "Use your words, sweetheart. If you want me to fuck you, you need to ask nicely."

I open my mouth but nothing intelligent comes out. "Uuhh...gah..."

"Aw, are there no words in my princess's pretty little head?"

I grunted. No words would come out. No words could come out. I was too turned on, my brain was too blank. All I could do was stare, open mouthed at the spiral on the tv screen and surrender to the feeling of his hands on my body.

"Well, princess if you can't ask nicely, I'll have to find something else to do with that mouth. Get on your knees, sweet girl, let Daddy fill that empty head of yours with something more useful."

[2005noroithecurse]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 — 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈

kinktober week four | humiliation | f!reader x lucifer

Welcome to week four our halloweekend double feature to send out the month with a bang ^⁠_⁠^

› got caught snooping hm? well, unfortunately for you the avatar of pride can't simply let such a slight go with a warning, no you have to know actions have consequences even if you act like you don't give a shit.

› warnings : blindfold, humiliation, face slap, punishment, sorta forced submission, brat taming, fingering, withholding orgasm, rough sex creampie, spit/drool

› word count : 2k+

🔪 what goes bump in the night?

In satin darkness you hear every breath echo throughout your body. It's oddly peaceful yet anxiety provoking, having one of your most dominant senses cut off lends to a jumpier state of body and mind. You couldn't even say it had been an accident, you'd been caught beyond red handed rifling through his study, but the punishment he suggested had left your ears burning, your heartbeat pounding through your entire body so loudly you thought he must hear it too.

For Lucifer, it's not just about the moment itself but it's replay value. Having you on your knees, in only your underwear and a blindfold is a sight that will be burned behind his eyelids for many, many millennia to come. When he proposed this exchange it was exactly for that: something to masticate again and again, savor the way humans savor exquisite bites of food. He didn't really care about you flipping through his things, he'd left the study unlocked on purpose just to see if you'd do exactly what he thought you would.

Really it was just an excuse to get you in a compromising position.

With poise he unbuttons the sleeves of his shirt, rolling them up while keeping bemused, lustful eyes locked on you. The movement of your chest with every intake of breath is particularly mesmerizing, the way the dim lights of his bedroom play across the canvas of your skin could make an artist weep.

He circles you slowly, as a predator circles prey, crimson eyes taking in each change in your breathing coupled with every twitch of your muscles as you fight to hold still. A bemused smile graces his face seeing you struggle against your nervous system, it's thrilling to keep you on your toes when you have no way to know when he'll strike.

His fingertips are icy, the barest touch of them against your shoulders makes your breathing hitch in your throat.

"Do they not teach humans basic manners anymore?" He muses, whispering the words against the shell of your ear, and you know he's crouched right behind you.

It sends a shudder quaking down your spine, your tongue running across your bottom lip as you contemplate if his question is rhetorical. Who knows if there's a punishment for guessing wrong?

"They do-"

"Ah, so you just think of yourself as above having to use them?" His voice was strangely level, you had anticipated at least a sliver of annoyance. From his footfalls you know he's standing now, resuming his pacing as if he's a carrion bird circling a hapless creature.

"Maybe I just think of myself as above you."

The sound of his palm against your cheek reached your mind before the feeling of it, a sharp heavy burn the blossoms from the impact point to radiate outward, making even your right ear feel fuzzy from the shock. You can't help the yelp that leaves you, but feel furious inside that he got you to cry like a struck beast.

What you can't see is the odd look on his face, he wants to be angry that you'd even dare to say that aloud but feels his pride stirring precisely because you did, watching your hand come to cradle your cheek. You being painfully headstrong was endearing, even stripped nearly nude and posited on your knees you would still rather flash your teeth than submit.

It makes this particular punishment all the sweeter.

"Get up." He said bluntly.

It takes you a moment, still dumbstruck that he actually laid a hand to you. Not wanting to test his patience but refusing to give even an inch you comply but take your time rising to your feet. Stretching your arms above your head, fingers laced, listening to your joints pop as you languidly move doing your best to telegraph that you don't care if you're blind and naked.

If it were anyone other than you he'd be furious, but that same amusement practically drips off his lips. Gently he grasps your hands as you bring them down from above your head, it's a dizzying contrast but you refuse to be thrown. Smirking you let yourself be led, bare feet softly padding across the floor as he pulls you forward, until stopping you by letting go and moving behind your body, hands laid on your shoulders.

You're about to throw another verbal jab at him but the words die, garbled in your throat, as he shoves you down. The upper half of your body hits the mattress, your elbows barely catching you but his forearm braced across your back keeps you held still while your legs sunk in a knelt position again, legs open awkwardly.

A whimper leaves you reflexively, fear spiking inside your brain at being so caught off guard.

"Do you think I wouldn't grab you by the scruff?" There's a hardness to his words and this time you know it's rhetorical.

His other hand caresses hot against the thin fabric of your panties, fingers running across the top hem before pressing firmly against your clit and making you nearly jump out of your skin at the contact. You gasp, breaths coming hard and shaky, letting your cheek rest against the mattress.

Little did you know it only takes one subtle sign to signal a yield to a shrewd eye.

His lips are searing against the back of your neck, it feels almost animalistic to be bent over and held down as he strokes your damp underwear. You squeeze your eyes shut, drinking it in for all its worth. The dull throb in your cheek falls away as he moves your underwear to the side, robbing your lungs of air feeling the way his fingers prod at your entrance, swirling through the arousal soaking your cunt.

You can't help the way you sigh his name, pathetically and full of longing. As two fingers slip inside you effortlessly, your own hands catch the blanket in a white knuckle grip. The way his teeth scrape against the thin skin of your neck has you keening in his hold, the muscles in your thighs clench tight, each feeling heightened by the lack of vision.

The arm across your back lets up, his hand sliding around to grope one of your bare breasts pinching the nipple cruelly just to hear you make those low, needy sounds for him. Lucifers erection presses hard against your ass from behind, making you wiggle against him and the thought of him slotted inside you has you nearly drooling.

Feeling more and more of your arousal slide down his knuckles tells him you don't need anymore prep, but he repositions you to half stand, bent over the side of the bed as you hear his buckle clicking and the sound of his slacks falling to the floor. Biting the inside of your cheek as your toes flex, curling in anticipation.

Feeling the swollen tip of his cock slide along your ass makes you suddenly dizzy, his hands groping and kneading the fat before lining up with your slick hole. He eases in surprisingly slow, letting you feel the way your walls stretch and part for him, greedily sucking him in so you can feel every vein and the slight upward curve that prods against your cervix just enough to have you crying out.

If your body could have its way you'd never let him go, but feeling him pull out only to slam back inside you hard enough to make your body jostle makes your clit throb and brain feel like it's melting. Your mouth drops open, lips catching against the fabric as you whine his name in perfect harmony with the slick squelching sounds drifting from behind you.

As his fingers dig into your hips, hard enough to bruise, you can feel your stomach fluttering and your abdomen tightening. Frantically one of your hands slips down to start roughly circling your clit but before you can reach it he's got both your arms held behind you.

"You're mistaken if you think this is for your enjoyment," he grunts, voice gravely and punctuated by the sound of his heavy balls smacking deliciously close to where you ache the hardest.

"Please-" you don't even get to beg, jerked up to stand suddenly, one leg bent still against the bed to keep you steady, with one of his arms against your belly and the other gripping your jaw harshly. Your eyes roll back, lashes catching against the blindfold, feeling his cock hit a new angle in this position.

His pace doesn't falter, even while he roughly slots two fingers inside your mouth to stop your whining. You let out a choked moan, tasting yourself on his fingers while feeling warm, thick saliva drip from the corners of your mouth.

Knowing at the moment he doesn't care about you getting off, only fucking you for self satisfaction and to completely debase you, makes a pressure build inside you so intense it feels like you could burst. It doesn't matter how much you incoherently blubber about being sorry, about wanting to cum, it all falls on deaf ears. Only harsh groans and squelches from your body answer you.

You can feel the blindfold getting damp before you realize you're crying, hiccupping around his fingers while you grab desperately onto his arm, any part of him you can reach from this position. Your legs shake, thighs screaming from holding the muscles so taught.

Before the dam bursts inside you hea forcing you back down against the bed, thrusts completely devolving into sloppy, hard, haphazard strokes and you know he's about to cum.

Sniffling and whining, ass up, you feel hot, sticky spurts of cum pumping inside you. Your sobs are muffled by the blankets you pressed your face into, each one emphasized by another rope of cum flooding you, your walls milking his cock for all he's worth as his hands keep an iron grip on your ass.

When he pulls out you feel so starkly empty it makes you shudder, not daring to move even as you feel his load start to drip out of you.

It's cruel, using you and leaving you so unsatisfied. Finally you move, shakily standing like a newborn foal as his hands yank the blindfold off. You blink, dumbstruck, against the sudden barrage of light as more tears slide down your face. Your arms wind across your chest, hugging yourself as you blink the saltwater away.

You suddenly feel horribly small against the chill of his bedroom and the shrewd look in his eyes while he dresses himself. After sliding a hand through his mussed black locks he uncuffs his dress shirt, casually making his way to the dresser and picks up a slim stack of papers.

The absurdity hits you like a freight train; you standing stark naked and shivering, skin sticky with various fluids while he looks like he just walked in from a meeting.

He shoots you a look, glancing up from the paper he's looking over, as if to say well, are you going?

Your cheek suddenly throbs again, and you feel fresh tears flood your waterline. Small, sniffling breaths are the only sound inside the bedroom as you slowly dress, hands shaking and making each article of clothing feel like a monumental chore.

Rubbing your eyes with your sleeve you softly slip out of his room, the heavy oak door shutting behind you with a soft click.

Blearily you stumble back to your room, equal parts mortified and seething as you feel cum soaking uncomfortably into your already damp panties. Gingerly you sit on your own bed, still in disbelief.

That bastard wanted you to snoop from the very beginning.

[xxsycamore]

Can you do Mozart & wet dreams?

Träumerei

╰┈➤ Mozart has never allowed himself as much as to think of her romantically. Strangely, his most recent dreams are all but lascivious, and twice as confusing. träumerei [noun, german] - dreaming

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart x MC • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Wet Dream; Mutual Pining; Feelings Realization; Denial of Feelings; Love Confessions; Miscommunication; Fainting; Hand & Finger Kink; Vanilla; Dream Sex; Ambiguous/Open Ending • wordcount: 1,104 • masterlist

• Welcome to my personal kinktober challenge, Visions of Temptation 2022 - that’s right, 2022. You can find the new one, Visions of Temptation 2023, here. DAY 3: WET DREAM

"Mozart… Mozart, touch me more with your hands, please…!"

It would be too easy, the composer muses in his thoughts, but he can't find it in himself to deny and tease her anymore. It warms him from the inside when she craves him so, his hands, his touch, so much that she's writhing underneath him. But when she lets out these beautiful moans, the spark of warmth blooms into a consuming fire.

"You love it so much when I touch you. You don't need to beg me. If you want me to touch you, then undress and show me where you need to be touched."

***

"No, that's all wrong. Did you not pay attention when I showed you? Here. Look."

Deft fingers dancing on the piano keys, Mozart repeats the chords with ease in yet another demonstration. His gaze moves on her even before the last notes can fill the air, making sure she's paying attention this time.

Even if it does things to his head, being this close to her.

Given that she was in his dreams just last night. Dreams that were not so innocent...

"I did, it's just… it seems like I was watching you play the piano, and not the notes you play. Tehee…"

His hands. He's not the type to seek eye contact, but more often than he catches her looking back, he catches her looking at his hands.

***

"I want more…I need more, please…please, Wolf!"

It catches him by surprise, how naturally it came out of her mouth. In contrast, her face is burning, gaze not as bold as her tongue, making him want to rain kisses on her hot cheeks. She needs to understand how happy she just made him.

He keeps moving inside her, gently removing the hands she tries to hide her face with. He needs to make love to her more, to give her more until she's pliant and spent and satisfied in his arms.

"You finally said my name." Betraying his own wishes, Mozart finds more appealing spots to press his lips against other than her face. Her neck, where her blood pumps in a rhythmic pulse; the metronome telling him to play her like a melody; to eat her one fang-filled bite at a time. "Keep saying it. I want to hear you say it more."

***

"Where do you want me to put those, Wolf?--Oh! I m-mean, Mozart! I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to sound disrespectful! It just slipped out and-"

Something he didn't expect to hear outside those dreams that haunt him. Just an accident. Merely a slip of the tongue.

"That's fine, don't apologize. Are you okay? You're shaking."

She puts down the folded sheets where Mozart points her to, hurrying to find anything else to keep her hands busy with and mask some of that trembling. While nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she unknowingly barrens her nape for Mozart's gaze.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just…couldn't sleep well last night."

"Me too. Be careful not to overwork yourself."

***

"Wolf… I actually… have feelings for you-…No that's awful! Too straight to the point. Ugh. Wolf, I…."

Listening in disbelief, Mozart is overtaken by all sorts of emotions. Her confession came out of nowhere. But she's so finicky about getting it right, she just keeps saying it again and again.

"The truth is, ever since I came to the mansion, I found myself attracted to you and before I knew it… I was truly in love. I grew up with your music, and hearing it has always soothed me in times of- Nonono, what am I thinking? I grew up with it? I'm definitely not saying that part!"

And from finding himself embarrassed, Mozart now finds himself letting out chuckles he can't control, so much unlike him. His heart feels so light, glowing with the newly discovered reciprocation of his feelings.

"I knew that already… you were being pretty obvious, you know. To think that I doubted it still… Hurry up and settle on your confession so I could make mine, would you?"

***

Today she's nowhere to be seen, and for good. Downing another cup of coffee, Mozart hopes he could drown those pestering, illogical feelings in the bitter liquid along with what remains of his sleepiness. Concentrating on his work has never been this hard and he hates it; the sound of ruckus coming from downstairs joining in the cacophony of distractions until he gets up from his desk and goes to check it for himself.

He sees her then, unconscious in the arms of another man who luckily broke her fall. Somebody answers Mozart's horrified gaze with a brief reassurance that she'd most likely overworked herself and it's nothing any more serious than that. The residents are shocked when it's none other than the composer himself who insists he'll take care of her and carry her to her room.

It's maybe on the way there when he realizes, or maybe it's when he finds himself tucking her in under the covers.

Her room, that is adjacent to his.

Her bed, which is positioned in a way that is mirrored to his own, with only a thin wall separating the headboards.

His keen ear as a composer. One thin wall…

"M-Mozart…"

Her glossy eyes stare at him under heavy lids, gradually widening as if in disbelief.

"Idiot, you're going to work yourself to death. How long has it been since you last had an adequate amount of sleep?"

He's no good scolding for this with those most likely noticeable dark circles under his eyes, alas.

"Alright, alright, I'll rest! I'm closing my eyes the second you go through that door! Jeez…Hey Mozart?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for— Are you okay? Your face is red…"

It's funny how fast the tables turn when her hand touches his forehead in an utmost caring manner, and Mozart has to remind that she might be too warm herself to accurately check for him. And judging by the way she has the energy to frown and bark at him, it must be okay now for him to take his leave.

"I'm right nextdoor if you need anything."

"I know where your room is, Mozart…!"

"And one more thing." He keeps his hand on the doorknob, turning his head to look her in the eye one more time. "Next time you have trouble sleeping because there's something on your mind, just come see me."

The only answer he gets is a shy nod that comes after a rather long pause. And it's satisfying enough of an answer.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @ndoandou Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[hymemena]

Spotify Wrapped Sentence Starters 2024

Feel free to change pronouns as necessary, and remember to specify muse for multimuse blogs.

CW: Murder, Death, Swearing, Suggestive, Obsession, Stalking, Abuse, Injury, Abandonment, Drug Use, Drugs

—

"I've showed you I'm growing."

"I can't think straight when I look into your eyes."

"No, you'll never really know anything about me."

"I'm asking you to hold me."

"I'm inside out and upside down."

"All my talent, it doesn't grow on trees."

"If everyone's sick, well, then nobody can catch it."

"I know the time, it doesn't wait."

"Come a little bit closer before we begin."

"If I had a heart I wouldn't wear it on my fucking sleeve."

"I packaged it with love but I just used you."

"I'm finding Heaven in your skin."

"I'm a little wild but don't mind my record."

"I got it bad again, an o-b-s-e-s-s-i-o-n."

"I don't want to explain."

"We're made of sterner stuff."

"You'll never meet another me."

"Our ship's not coming back…"

"You could kill me and you should."

"You're my sugar plum."

"I love you like a statuette."

"Oh, you clever little things…"

"It suits you well."

"This garden once was perfect."

"It's the only way for me."

"Take me alive, leave me to die."

"I know, I'm so pathetic, I wouldn't move to save my life."

"You never seem to notice when I follow you home."

"You wanted to go there? I wanted it, too."

"Everything you say is like poetry."

"I think about you day and night, it's only right."

"Call me what suits your taste."

"Hear their heartbeat through the wall?"

"Tell me I can change."

"Now I sin all of the time."

"I see it all, I feel it all."

"We all want attention."

"I can fit two people under my skin."

"Son of a bitch!"

"They worry you with all the talk of how you're not their kind."

"You creep across my skull."

"Yeah, I'm a fuck up, but you swear I'm enough."

"I'm hypnotized by your every move."

"I'm serious when I say I'm over it. I'm over it."

"I'm just afraid of being bored."

"There's a game they play that I'm not part of."

"Love will tear us apart."

"Takes one to bring the pain."

"Why doesn't that make me feel better?"

"Are you getting lazy?"

"I got big plans to take care of you, I just need to borrow ten thousand dollars."

"You can raise welts like nobody else."

"You think you're pretty smart?"

"I'm back and I'm the baddest."

"When they touch you you'll wonder how they keep their hands so soft."

"Did it burn inside when you left me here to die?"

"Hold still, my sweet."

"Everybody knows that home is where your teeth sink, love."

"I think I might be scared."

"It's hardly a bother."

"Wanna make out and kiss hard?"

"I don't know about you but I am hellbent."

"I'm playing God!"

"They love me for it, honestly."

"You fell asleep on my chest."

"Now, I'm afraid there's no cure for me."

"I wanna feel like I'm not six feet underground."

"Yeah, they've got a few scars."

"There's no need to cry."

"There must be something in the water."

"I am the villain!"

"You've got some nerve to throw it in my face!"

"I could disappear if this is what makes me feel so real."

"Fuck yourself and fuck your feelings!"

"If I'm not mistaken, I've murdered you twice before, my dear."

"I want to burn the whole thing down."

"It's confusing to the core."

"Come, break some hearts, now."

"That's what I call entertainment."

"That's how it sleeps."

"I wanna feel you close."

"Let me put myself in your shoes."

"I'd die without this."

"You would think we're best friends."

"It's not passing fascination, now."

"I don't know, I just like you."

"Lucky are they who live unaware."

"Don't go in there!"

"I've been inside your bedroom."

"No one can break my heart like I can."

"You should try it, it's a hell of a drug."

"I'm always happy to hear your voice when I'm falling asleep."

"We're gonna stay in love somehow."

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

"I long to hear your voice as I remember it."

"I know you're in there."

"There's a dog in your heart."

"I haven't heard from you in a couple of months."

"Can you see me in the dark?"

"History hates lovers."

[chairofchaos]

Evening friend!

You bring chaos to my life so here is a little chaos for you

2, 3, 5, 8, 19, 26

And just for fun because I know it will probably hurt me 40

Feel free to answer what you want and ignore the rest 🤍

GOOD EVENING.

Thank you for letting me bring chaos to your life, and for bringing me some in return. In your honor, I will answer all. Seemed like the most chaotic thing to do. I considered making separate posts for each question but then again that was a lot of work so just... bear with me. This is a long read, but hopefully, you will find it worth it.

2. Anything that you'd like to write but feel like you're unable to?

Yes. I am currently bouncing around multiple Greek/Roman tragedy adaptations of our beloved ACOTAR and TOG characters. I do not feel prepared to write these yet. I want to do them justice. That semester of studying tragic plays of the ancients has stuck with me.

3. How would you describe your writing style?

I don't even know how to answer this, but my best shot is this:

The vibe must be chaotic.

It must be written as fast as possible.

It should be entirely unplanned.

If it is planned, it should be entirely overwhelming and likely a bigger project than I should ever take on *cough cough* LETTERS *cough cough*

It's not a style as much as it is entirely based on my whims. And that's not always great. In fact, it's something I don't really enjoy about myself (comment on this and I will edit it out of this post so fast I SWEAR).

But I enjoy the product. I think there are at least a couple of you that do, too, so hopefully we can all enjoy that little piece of chaos together. If not, I'll just enjoy the pain I create on my own like a good little fanfic writer.

5. What's a tag you never want to use for your works even when it applies?

I don't think such a thing exists. I don't like surprises? Idk, this doesn't really make sense to me. Clearly I have no problem tagging things Dead Dove so we all know what I'm up to lol

8. How slow is a slow burn?

Somewhere between 100 and 100k words. I genuinely do not care. Depends on the medium? The pacing? A slow burn described in a poem is going to look very different than a slow burn in a fic the length of The Iliad and the Odyssey. Or Wheel of Time (that's a long series, right?). I don't care. It's all great. I love slow burns. Haven't written one because I think those characters should be enjoying each other romantically on page 1, but I LOVE reading them.

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

UNANSWERED STARS YOU BEAUTIFUL HUMAN. Is this what you expect to hurt (I haven't looked ahead at the other questions I'm doing this straight through, no edits, no takebacks. Welcome to Chaos- you get two.).

Eris was no saint, either. Cauldron knew he kept his mate up some nights. But the Cauldron also knew Azriel would get out of bed in the middle of the night and take off into flight, not returning until he knew Eris would also be awake. After the first time, they would rarely talk about where Azriel went or what he did. Instead, Eris would press a mug of overly sweet coffee into his hands and they would sit together in silence on the front porch, Azriel’s head on Eris’ shoulder and their hands clasped together. - {Working Title is Coffee and Psychotherapy. THIS ONE IS ACTUALLY FLUFF YOU CAN THANK DUSK-MUSE AND NINTHCIRCLEOFPRYTHIAN}

And maybe more along the lines of what you were expecting:

Azriel found the most enjoyment in the training and teaching of others. In his time as spymaster, he regularly found time to work with young soldiers, for which many have since thanked him, crediting him with saving their lives by instructing them in his limited spare time. In the years since the war, Azriel enjoyed collecting books from all over the world. The collection he amassed was the instigator for a library to honor his mate. - Death, and All That Follows (This may or may not be a sort of extended epilogue to something I wrote recently.)

26. What would you describe as OOC?

This is possibly a wild take: I don't think I care what is out of character for characters I write. It depends on the fic, sure. But I think perspective forms our understanding of characters, and seeing them in a new light can often bring a different, even "OOC" type attitude to fics which I often enjoy. I am very much an advocate for "Don't Like, Don't Read" not only for plot points but for characterization as well. If you don't enjoy the way someone writes your favorite (or your least-favorite!) character, don't read it. The beautiful thing about being a part of a fandom is the diversity of experiences within it.

I did not read Nesta's journey the same way you did, or the way your friend did, or the way my best friend did. I brought my own perspectives, my own experiences, to my interpretation of her actions, words, and thoughts. I came out of the other side loving her, and loving the way she loves. I recognize myself in her. I know I'm not alone in that. I know that there are a great many who do not like her in the slightest.

ACOSF Nesta was presented very differently to ACOTAR Nesta. (For the purposes of this argument, we are removing the debate about The Author Herself because I simply don't care at the moment and that's a much larger topic.) I don't think that anyone's interpretation of Nesta is "wrong" or "bad" because we all bring a pair of glasses to reading, and that glass is made of our experiences. That's the filter through which you consume the work. My glasses are different from yours. That's okay.

Little tangent while we're on the topic: I don't care if your glasses are different. But if you break those glasses to use the shards of glass for the purpose of hurting other people, that's a problem. I have a problem now, and so do you. Because of the inclusion of the argument above, it needed to be said, and so here it is: Don't hurt others because of your glasses. Theirs are different. Please learn to recognize that, and that it is okay to view pieces of media differently. Tangent over.

So TLDR on OOC: I don't care. If you want to write a piece where character canonically named Bubblegum Sunshine Princess because of her (in-canon) overwhelming joy and love of the outdoors and her kingdom's candy trees is a murderous assassin filled with rage and the destructive flame of a thousand suns, go right ahead. There's a very good chance I would love to read it.

40. Write a 9-word fic.

Title: This is a Thing [REDACTED] Learned. The title will be longer than the fic itself, and that's the beauty of The Thing [REDACTED] Learned. Thanks.

A/N: (Stars. My dearest friend. You expect pain here? Now I want to prove you wrong...)

Pairing: Your OTP. Or my OCs. Or is this about my life? Or yours? Who knows. I'm not currently well lol

...........................................

Knowledge came with no promises, no love, no you.

...........................................

All the love, Stars. You're the best. <3<3<3<3<3

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

Ateez Career Energy (September)

I will be looking into some insight to what is happening in their career at the moment, or for this month. Let's take a look.

Hongjoong (Queen of Cups)-Is he getting his advice from a caring woman? This could be a bit of his energy, maybe he is tapping into his sensitive nature to create something beautiful. He is kind of allowing his emotions to flow through him for his work. Allowing his emotions and creativity to consume him at the moment. I am just getting, tapping into his emotions to put into his work. Honestly that is interesting. There could be a female artist that is a muse for him, or just a woman he has dated that is, okay too many messages, hard to pinpoint with one card, so moving on.

Seonghwa (Judgment)-Does he feel some sort of judgment regarding his career? It seems he may want to appease someone, or he likes the appraisal of fans, and once again, I am pulled back to his personality reading of needed the attention or validation of others. I don't know that plays a big part in his career right now. He might also be very sensitive to criticism as well.

Yunho (10 of Wands)-Well, he is overwhelmed and bit overworked right now. It seems he may be doing a lot right now regarding his career. I am getting to carry the burden, not sure what he means by that. He may have a lot on his plate at the moment.

Yeosang (Ace of Cups)-There may be a new opportunity he feels emotional about right now. Something that might bring him joy. He may be feeling a bit emotional about things right now. I am kind of getting my cup overflowing, it is like he is overflowed with emotions, hmm okay. I don't think he is the emotional type, but ya'll fans may know him better.

San (The High Priestess)-He is doing some inner work, following his intuition, or he is being guided by his intuition regarding his career. I don't know, he doing some spiritual work too? Anyway, he is tapping into himself. He may be secretive or private, or to himself a lot right now. It is like, stepping away, back to myself, so that I can get back out there and work. It is like inner work is important to him for his career. It is like let me go within, so I can put myself out there. I don't know if I am explaining this right lol but whatever. Ya'll how I am loving this boy's energy lately. Also, is he not good at explaining things, because it was hard for me to try to explain how I felt with this, same though, it is like I vibe with his energy so much right now.

Mingi (Ace of Wands)-Why does this not surprise me lol He is feeling exuberant. Omg, that word came to me with excitement, I had to google what that definition was, because random words pop up while I channel, and it doesn't always make sense. It means being very excited with lots of energy. There is something he is very excited about regarding his career. Like a new exciting start. He got to be careful with this energy, because as excited one can be, with this energy, it can burn down really fast as well.

Wooyoung (9 of Swords)-Well, this doesn't surprise me either. Boy is in his head, worrying about things way too much. He seems to overanalyze and think about things way too much. I kind of get, he thinks about the things he's done, like going over it again and again, like he should have done this or that better. I am not sure, it is hard to think in this energy, lack of clarity on his part regarding his career. And here comes the headache again with him, sweetie please stop thinking too much. Lol easier said than done, I know.

Jungho (2 of Wands)-He could be collaborating with someone, learning from someone that will help him creativity wise. I am getting meeting of the minds, wanting to work with someone that can help him expand his career. I mean, is he plan on doing some solo work with someone? Not sure what this means. I am here for it if he does though.

I feel like I go through a ride reading for them, they are so fun, although some can be a bit difficult, nothing too heavy here, which I like. Fun, enjoyable bunch here. Wishing them the best in the career ventures this month.

[animasola86]

A few changes are coming...

Hello, dear followers of this very blog.

The title of this post says it all: I am in the middle of re-structuring a few things around here because my focus has shifted a little.

About a year ago I started this blog as a home for my Hogwarts Legacy hyperfixation, I took a deep dive into fanfiction, into oneshots, into smut essentially. I wrote so many things centered around Sebastian Sallow it's almost embarrassing in hindsight. But I am not embarrassed, I am actually quite proud of having been able to write so much, of having a muse to guide my creative (and dirty) thoughts.

It's been a real blessing.

But as you may have noticed, my focus, my fixation, has shifted, fizzled out a little.

It started when I began writing for Professor Sharp, dipping my toes into the older man/younger woman dynamic, and to be quite honest with you, I am still knee-deep (or even deeper) in that trope. It's always been a passion (a secret kink?) of mine to have an age (and size) difference between characters, so eventually I moved away from that particular character as well and focused on characters of my own.

I'm still currently writing my original story Innocence Lost over at @animasolaoriginal (about a cowboy and a girl, a slow burn love story), but the smut writer in me has yearned for something more, so I posted a few Smut Drabbles, very short little smut scenes I couldn't put into my story yet (or ever).

And from that very sentiment of having little outlets for my horribly dirty mind, grew another idea for an original story, something I'm still working on (I'm eight chapters in already), and this time I will finish it first before I post anything, I'm forcing myself to do that, yes I will (famous last words, huh? Don't quote me on that...)!

What I'm trying to say is, this blog, that has been focused around HL and Sebastian Sallow, will turn into the smut blog it has always been, but no longer featuring our beloved freckled pixel boy. I kept my smut drabbles neutral, dropped no names, no descriptions, just, well, faceless porn really, so anyone could imagine any character in the male and female characters portrayed if they wanted to.

I find freedom in doing so, being able to write anything and not put it in the confines that is writing for British characters set in the 1890s without having to put them in various AUs all the time.

And so I'll continue writing what I like, and I hope you will follow along.

I know most of you probably also follow me for my HL screenshots that have mysteriously stopped appearing as well. I still have my vast library of posted screenshots, don't worry, they will stay (everything will stay, this is just about future content), but if I ever dive back into the game (which, tbh, I haven't played in a long while, haven't even updated yet or checked out the new photomode), I will post new screenshots on a sideblog I will have yet to make.

Just to keep this blog cleaner. And smuttier.

Imagine finding my screenshots of pretty Scottish landscapes or cute Magical beasts (or broody pixel boys) and then scrolling down to find a filthy little smut drabble right under it. It just doesn't mix well anymore. (It never did, but I only realize that now, oops, sorry to everyone who probably stayed away from my blog for that very reason).

So, to wrap this up: I will remain a smut writer, if you are in need of a little erotica to spice up your day (or night), you will always find something of the sort right here.

I'm also not leaving the HL fandom, I'm still an active follower (read: lurker), and I feel like my time has come to let other people contribute to it. And if you follow the #sebastian sallow smut tag, you'll find a lot of authors that still mainly focus on him, so if you don't want to imagine him in my anonymous smut scenarios, you'll find plenty of other sources around here, don't worry!

I, for one, want to expand my horizon a little, look into other fandoms. I've read so many fanfics/oneshots centered around characters like Joel Miller (who I loved ever since playing The Last of Us for the first time), Arthur Morgan (who inspired my cowboy phase tbh) and even characters I never knew I needed in my life, like Simon "Ghost" Riley (who I didn't even know before because I never played Call of Duty), but this is tumblr, you are exposed to a lot of things if you allow them in - and it's been an absolute blast to find new things to obsess about.

So I hope that you, dear followers, can forgive me for branching out, for turning this once HL-centered blog into not just a multi-fandom blog, but a place for smut enjoyers of all types.

Because I found my calling, and it's writing porn. It is what it is.

TL;DR:

Future screenshots will find a new home in a yet to be announced sideblog.

The content will become more neutral, so that anyone can imagine anyone in the roles of the protagonists.

(I may still write for specific characters in the future, to be determined which one, maybe I'll return to write for Sebastian Sallow or Aesop Sharp one day, who knows, I still have some unfinished WIPs after all...)

There will always be smut. Because smut is life.

And with that, I thank you very much for reading this far. And I thank you for sticking around, for enjoying my content, in the past and in the future, hopefully. Thank you for your patience with me and for joining me on new adventures!

Cheers!

[perspectivestarters]

Perspective's Sentence Starters; The Great Impersonator (Part II)

I NEVER LOVED YOU

It wasn't enough.

They couldn't save her.

It wasn't her fault.

It was there from the start.

Trying to love you through an open wound

If you only knew how bad it hurt me too.

You can take the money.

You can rest your head down and not feel any shame.

I never loved you.

I never loved you in vain.

We argued a lot.

You drove off screaming on the night you were caught.

You left me standing in the parking lot.

I took off chasing you down Route 22.

You never listen and I'm terrible too.

You kept on driving far away from the issues.

If you stopped, I would've kissed you.

I almost thought I heard you call my name.

DARWINISM

There's lots of fish out in the pond.

What if I'm from outer space?

I have fire in my bones and in my veins.

I let it show and scare my suitors far away.

They say that God makes no mistakes, but I might disagree.

If everyone has someone, then the math just isn't right.

I'm the only outlier, the lonely archetype.

If everything is by design, well, I might disagree.

You all know something that I don't.

You all learned something that I fear I'll never know.

What if I'm just cosmic dust?

I was born all by myself, it's not unlikely that I'll die that way as well.

LONELY IS THE MUSE

I spent years becoming cool.

In one single second, you can make a decade of my efforts disappear.

Didn't know you were here.

I always knew I was a martyr.

I was built from special pieces that I learned how to unscrew.

I can always reassemble to fit perfectly for you.

Lonely is the muse.

So where do I go in the process when I'm just an apparatus?

I've inspired platinum records.

I've earned platinum airline status.

I'm reduced to just a body here in someone else's bed.

I will always be a martyr.

When you're done, you can discard me like the others always do.

I will nurse my wounds until another artist needs me new.

I will always reassemble to fit perfectly in view for anybody that decides that I'm of use.

ARSONIST

Arsonist burning down the world to feel its heat.

The arsonist doesn't feel the embers on his feet.

Your human starter kit came incomplete.

My apologies, arsonist, you loved me.

Fool me twice, the shame is on me

Am I a victim in your game?.

Will you pass me through your bloodline with your ornamental rage?

Can I take the blame for everything you hate?

The punishment and crime are not the same.

Somebody will love me for the way that I'm designed.

You don't love the flames, you just want them for yourself.

You smothered out the glow I grew for you but it was mine too.

Alchemy's not love, it's playing God.

Have you ever been broken and thrown down?

Have you ever given the world to somebody as a gift and had it returned?

Did you know the father's DNA stays inside the mother for seven years?

Have you ever waited seven years?

Have you ever woken from a dream just to realize that you're still asleep?

Do you ever wish you were still asleep?

Do you ever wish you wouldn't wake up?

LIFE OF THE SPIDER (DRAFT)

For several days now I've been living here.

I feel like a monster.

It doesn't help that you will treat me like I've got the venom in my teeth.

I came for shelter from the cold and I'd thought I'd stay a while.

You'll kill me when I least expect it.

God, how could I even think of daring to exist?

I worked real hard on the last one but the last one got me here.

I'm minding my own business but my presence makes you curse.

I should be getting better but I'm only getting worse.

I know you hate the sight of me.

You would break me if you tried.

HURT FEELINGS

My dad is almost home.

I'll perpetually believe that any man who says he loves me is hidin' somethin' up his sleeve.

I'll be changin' like the weather.

I'll never be like him.

You know my father isn't dead, but it don't feel like he's still here.

It's strange now that he's grey and getting older by the day.

My eyes tell me that he's harmless despite what my heart has to say.

Maybe this is just another trick that hasn't happened yet.

Blood is thick but water is forever.

That girl will be a problem only if you let her.

I left her back home but I cannot forget her.

I thought that it was my fault, and now sometimes I still do.

I can't bear to fake a smile when you walk into the room.

LUCKY

I am so lucky.

My self-loathing so deep-rooted.

Truth is I'm not suited for it.

I hope that you still love me.

I'm a star.

If there's nothin' missin' in my life, then why do these tears come at night?"

I feel her, but I can't relate.

I'd never end up in that state.

What do you do with a difficult grownup?

I thought I changed so much, nobody would notice it, and no one did.

I told everybody I was fine for a whole damn year.

That's the biggest lie of my career.

She's so lucky.

Haven't you heard?

LETTER TO GOD (1998)

Please, God, or whoever you are.

These days I get less calls 'cause no one wants to hear my voice.

I miss the days when I was gettin' texts that I could just avoid.

I've been tryin' to be calm and not pre-emptively destroy.

Every time I'm in the real world, I just end up paranoid.

I don't ever wanna leave him, but I don't think it's my choice.

I'm basking in these moments where I feel a shred of joy.

I don't think my pleas are heard because I'm screaming in the void.

Oh, you've gotta be sick.

Why do you make it hurt, and why's it over so quick?

I'm finally loved.

I finally found somebody I don't wanna get rid of.

You took a little while to respond to my prayer.

Please, God, no, this doesn't seem fair.

I'm tryin' not to show it, but I'm terribly scared.

THE GREAT IMPERSONATOR

No one has to know.

I could always hide.

They don't know I'm lonely.

They don't know I'm kind.

Every single truth I sing once started as a lie.

Does a story die with its narrator?

Surely it's forgotten soon or later.

Hope they spell my name right in the paper.

This is a cry for help.

You can't tell I need it when you’re watchin' from a distance.

[shoot-of-corruption]

Blog Announcement

Hi there my lovelies! It is a rare guest, Ria here :D

I put on an Oblivion Let's Play to hold my blood pressure low while formulating this announcement, so you better settle down with me xD

I would like to announce here how I will deal with my main blog and all my side blogs on tumblr from now on.

As most of you know, I am working a full time job in retail, so my nervous costume tends to be a tiny bit thin after around 9,5hrs of shift. I am happy to announce to you all that my time as a worker in retail is finally a finite one. If everything works out right, I won't just be able to start a homeoffice job by next year, but also live at a completely different place and city. Sadly there is still a good while of wait ahead of me until then and a lot of things are unsure as of yet. But I will do my best to get to that destination, because right now everything is pretty much murdering me.

What does that mean for my blogs? I have been on Hiatus for a long while, on and off, over years. And yet I have always returned here, more or less satisfied or happy with my performance or the RPC.

From this day on I will treat myself better about being able to come here and also, I will not spread myself thin anymore. I will transform Mariku into an Ask- and Art-Blog. Interactions are always welcome, on and off Anon, as well as dash commentary or writing pieces and updates of myself. You can tag Mariku and me in everything, the followed tags will stay the same, I will just update a few things on my BIO in the next days etc. [maybe I'll finally force myself to make a card, should the mobile pages not work anymore].

Things that will for the close future not be done on my blogs:

RP-Threads: no matter if long, short, or anything. I am torturing myself, because I cannot say no to new thread ideas and the moment I really get invested into plots, threads, ideas or anything alike, my partners tend to just leave and let me drop like a hot potato and I honestly neither need nor want that hate in my life anymore.

Anon-Hate: Will NOT be displayed on this channel. I will keep my Inbox with anonymous messages on, but every piece of disgusting hate will be immediately plucked out of the screen and burned in a bonfire. You will not get a stage here and you can be assured, that I will piss and shit on your disgusting hatred and then laugh about it for the coming week, because you are the most pathetic thing that I had the displeasure of even having to lay a momentary glance on <3

RPC/personal Drama: I will ignore drama and strictly remove myself from it. I will not be part or target of any hatred, impulsive meanness and/or random bouts of radical opinions. If you don't feel seen/represented in my opinions, turn around and find a place you fit into, but leave me and my muses alone.

Things that will be done on this blog (and partly my side blogs):

Ask-Memes: Of any kind. Ask-Plots, random asks, symbol ask memes, color memes, background memes, AU-memes and YES, also art related asks.

Open Commissions: I will open art commissions again after I had a bit more training on my tablet, for everybody, who wants to commission art. They will likely be limited and they may also for training reasons only be for free for training, thus included in art memes, but I will open paid commissions eventually again, definitely this year. I cannot tell you details, yet, but keep your eyes peeled ;)

IMs and Mun related things: You are definitely allowed to write IMs and ask me questions!! I am here to have fun as all of us are, so if your fun includes coming into my IMs and leaving a cat meme each day or send me weird asks, I am all here for it!! All of this might sound very dickish of me, but I just feel like I get too emotionally hurt and immersed and I want to protect me from bad feelings and you from my wrath xDDD

Thank you for reading all of this and I hope all of us can stick to those ground rules (for now) - we will get on peachy! If the fact that I am not RPing (for now) on here is breaking you beyond compare, I do own a Discord and I am usually willing to share it. Please contact me on here before adding me, so I know who exactly is adding me on there, otherwise, I might not accept your request. Discord: sangnoire

I will warn you though, that I will be very selective with accepting RPs and partners on there still and that any unwillingness to accept that will be met with... a uno-reverse card reaction x'D

[leeknowsintrusivethots]

Marked By Him

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Pairings: Vampire!Lee Know/OC, Vampire!Bangchan/OC (suprise!!!!) Summary: Vampyres dominate the entertainment world with their otherworldly beauty and talent. It’s a world you must be born into, but a few lucky ones are Marked. Stripped from her home and everything she knows, Minji’s Marking means that she has to rely on the Devil himself, Lee Minho, to be her mentor. He’s cute and sweet to the public, but behind closed doors the monster comes out to play. Content: Angst, Slow burn, lotsa plot, eventual smut, vampires, dark themes, original characters, first person perspective, general 18+ content, alternate idol universe, asshole Lee Know, surprise love triangle, discussion of blood, discussions of death, depictions of violence, sexual tension, petnames/kitten, WC: 5937 Minors do not interact. Do not repost my content to other websites, this includes translations. Notes: beep boop oops. Tag List: @linocz

I could see him. 

I could smell him. 

I could feel him. 

Lee Minho was so close that I could feel his breath fan across the bridge of my nose and feather against my eyelashes. His hands were at his sides, balled up into white fingered fists. His breaths were heavy, erratic. His body language said anger, but his eyes… 

“Kitten,” he mumbled. His tone was soft, lulling. I found myself leaning into him, getting closer until my chest was pressed against his harder one. He felt solid, safe. Acting on instinct, I buried my face into the fabric of his shirt and inhaled. He smelled clean, but there's a hidden spice that lingered. It was tangy, enticing. I inhaled deeper in a desperate attempt for more. 

“You're not making it easier, you know that?” He asked as I drank my fill of him. Every muscle in his body was tense, but he made no move to pull away or stop me. “Do you know how hard it is?”

“Minho,” I mumbled against the soft cotton of his shirt.  I didn't know what was happening. I didn't know where we were, but something gnawed at me. There was a nagging feeling in my gut that told me something was off, but I couldn’t place it. 

“I’ve been told something would be mine for so long, but when I get it: I can't have it,” he said. He didn't seem to be speaking to me. He was musing, thinking things he had been holding in out loud. 

The nagging spread from my gut to my mind. I tore my face away from Minho’s chest to look up at him in confusion, but he was calm outside of the tension coiled in every muscle. His face was glowing in a dim golden light. It was a stark contrast to the way I usually saw him. He was not my own personal demon of torture, but an angel who had fallen. The notion was reflected in his eyes. I could see anger and sorrow: a longing for something that should be but wasn't. 

I couldn't help myself. I reached up, hesitating for the briefest of moments as my fingers lingered above the smooth skin of his cheek. That nagging feeling never left, but I wanted to help him. I wanted to ease whatever was causing that beautifully distressing look. I wanted to be the solution – I wanted to be his solution. I let my reservations fall to the wayside as I cupped his cheek in my palm. His eyelashes fluttered over his wide eyes as he blinked: once, twice. The third time, they stayed closed and he leaned into my touch with a small sigh.

“It's okay,” I whispered. I was scared that if I spoke too loud or too much, whatever was happening would stop. 

“You don't know that. You don't know anything.”

“I know you're beautiful. You try to hide it behind snarky comments and snears, but I know it. There's something about you, Lee Minho, that is soft and kind. Even if you don't want anyone else to know it.” 

At my whispered confession, his eyes opened. I worried that I had said too much. I worried that I shattered the moment, but he simply looked at me. He didn't speak. He didn't do anything but stare, but it was a stare with a thousand unspoken words and thoughts. It was a stare with no mask, no barriers. I could see everything, and he was letting me. 

But then everything shattered, and I woke up. 

As the world around me came into focus, I felt my head spin with confusion. It was a dream, but it felt so real. I could still feel his skin under my hand. His scent still lingered, but the comforting golden glow of the dream had faded into reality. 

I was in the comfort of my dorm with my blankets twisted around my legs. The room was dark, but in my new world that was never a good indicator of the time of day. The thick curtains covering the sole window blocked out any natural light, so I sucked it up and risked the neon glare of the alarm: 5:43pm. 

The sun would be setting shortly, and it was the first time since being Marked that I woke up so close to my new ‘normal’ hours. Maybe I should have been happy about that, but it made me sad. I felt a sudden longing for the sun. I had never been one to bask in the sunshine during the summer months, but I couldn't help but feel like I was in my final parting moment with an old but distant friend. 

Yoojin was sleeping soundly in her purple satin sheets. If I opened the curtains, I would be risking a lot more than just waking my two sleeping roommates, but I had to see it. In a strange way, it was a part of accepting my fate. I had to have one last moment – one last fully human moment where I was just a simple girl trying to decide my own future.  

I carefully untangled myself from my bedding and stood as quietly as I could. I was halfway to the door of the room when I heard a rustling from behind me. Maeri was climbing out of her own bed. Without any comment from either of us, I opened the door with her following along behind me. 

I didn't have a specific destination. I just wanted to feel the warmth. We made it out of the dorm as a whole in silence when Maeri finally spoke, “This way.”

She beckoned me in the opposite direction of the main entrance to the building. We went down a long hall filled with other dorm units before she popped open a door to a stairwell and ushered me to go first. I didn't question her. Even being a human, she seemed to understand. 

At the top of the stairwell, I pushed through a heavy metal door before stepping out onto the flat roof of the dorm complex. The sun was just starting to dip into the horizon, and something inside of me twisted at the sight. My emotions simmered along with the heat of the concrete. I was learning better than trying to tame them. Minho had essentially told me it was pointless, so I just let myself feel.

The sun tickled my skin in an almost unpleasant way. I knew it wasn't normal. It was a sign of the Change. My physiology was morphing into something different. Different didn't equate to bad– I had known that all along. It was just a process of adjustment, and grieving. It was saying goodbye to something that could have been, but would no longer be and embracing something new. 

As I contemplated, Maeri stepped closer and took my hand into her smaller one. She was warm and sturdy, and she always would be. She could enjoy hot summer days for the rest of her life. She would always be able to indulge in Chinese food. She would forever be human, whereas I would not. Strangely, I took comfort in that. She was a constant in my ever changing life. Even if the Change killed me, Maeri would live on. 

“It takes time,” she finally broke the silence. Her normally bubbly and feisty attitude was gone. She was somber and strangely calm: two things I never expected from her. 

“I’m not sure if I have time.” I trusted Maeri. I truly did. From the moment I had met her, she had been a constant presence. She had adopted me even if it was against my will, and I knew I could tell her anything and she would listen – she would even help if she could. A part of me wanted to tell her everything; Minho and Bangchan’s ominous warnings, my conspiracy that something was going on in the Association. I knew it would make me feel better, but I didn’t want to put her in danger. 

“Of course you do,” Maeri said, squeezing my hand tighter. “You’re the first Mark I’ve ever met, but I’ve heard the girls around the dorms talk.”

“I have too. They are always very quick to make hushed comments just loud enough so I can hear about how I’m a mutant and not a true Vampyre.”

“They are elitist assholes, but surprisingly: I can listen when I want to. I can tell you things that they won’t,” Maeri informed me as she smiled at me with some of her mischievous humor back on her face. 

“Like what luxury brand is out of style?” I asked back. 

“I mean that is helpful, but they guard those secrets with their lives.” She gave a small giggle that I couldn’t help but mimic before continuing. “Yoojin has actually been guiding you in the right direction.”

“Yoojin doesn’t say much,” I said as I contemplated the thought. She was always mothering the both of us, but she never spoke much about the Change or being a Vampyre outside of the very surface level topics. I never pushed her to. I feared doing so would cause our relationship to shift. She would stop seeing me as a friend, and start seeing me as a genetic freak like every other Vampyre I had encountered. 

“I think it’s a part of the whole ice queen act she has going on, but she is always nagging you to eat better. She is also the reason that you're going to be training in the gym instead of dance practice. She’s doing it because she cares, of course, but also because physical health and strength…”

“Will make the Change less likely to kill me?” I prompted when she hesitated. She grimaced, her hand squeezing mine so tight that it was going numb. 

“Yes.”

“If it’s that simple, why isn't it in the damned textbook?” I asked in frustration. 

“Maybe it is, but…”

“Maeri, I have enough people not being blunt with me. Don’t be one of them.”

“Don’t you-” She started only to stop to heave a frustrated sigh. “Isn’t it kind of weird that it isn’t the first thing they tell you when you're Marked?”

It was my turn to hesitate. Her question was very similar to the many I contemplated ever since the Tracker found me. It was full of uncertainty, confusion, and a dull sense of negligence. For the second time, I thought about telling her everything. I wanted to. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but the sun was falling below the horizon. In a matter of minutes, the city would be enveloped in darkness and the safety of day would be gone. 

“When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro,” I quoted instead. I couldn’t answer her question just like I couldn’t answer my own, so I turned to the tried and true method of deflection. Minho told me to ask the right questions, but I got a feeling that Vampyric society would not take kindly to Maeri asking any questions at all. 

She was still holding my hand, but her grip had loosened. I could feel the blood return to my deprived limb as I gestured with my other one at the door back into the building. “We should probably get ready. We have vocal lessons this morn- tonight”

She didn’t move immediately, and her stare was level enough to put Minho’s to the test. I could tell she could see right through me. She knew I was avoiding her question. 

“Let’s go be professionals, then,” she nodded.

I always had a sneaking suspicion, but it was then that I knew Maeri was one of the greatest friends I would ever have. 

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

“Read the sheet music!”

“Follow the notes!”

“You're straining!”

“Your pitch is off!”

I had heard it all, and for a good constant few hours straight. 

Ms. Yamamoto was a woman with decades of experience in vocal training. She had worked with some of the biggest names from the Japanese industry, but more importantly: she was human. Like all humans who managed to squeeze their way into the Vampyre dominated idol industry, she worked hard to earn her place and she was talented beyond imagination. She also didn't treat me any differently than she did the other trainees. She was strict, but she was that way with everyone.

Being scolded was a small price to pay for a refreshing break from Vampyre trainers who looked at me with distaste, and I found myself improving each time I left her class. I would most likely never be notable for my vocal abilities, but I was becoming passable. It was enough to have me smiling as I walked the halls of JYP to get to the basement level where the gym was housed. 

Bangchan would be meeting me for our first workout session, and I didn't want to be late. He was doing me a favor – or he was doing Yoojin a favor – and I didn't want to disrespect his time in such a way. I especially didn't want to when I knew for a fact he was a very busy guy. 

JYP’s basement was very much just a bare bones version of the upper floors. It wasn't nearly as decorative, and a few of the side halls were just as creepy as they were sparse. In my normal life, I wouldn't have even noticed but being around Vampyres had apparently made me prone to looking over my shoulder. I hastened my walk to a brisk pace. 

I was about to step over the threshold of the gym when I heard it: hushed, but hurried whispers. They were a hum that could be heard even over the gym equipment in use. I couldn't make out the words, but the voices tickled a sense of familiarity in me. Curiosity killed the Mark. I followed the sounds, so distant but a vague buzzing in my ear. They had to be near, otherwise how in the world could I hear them? 

My trail led me through the sparsely populated gym and down another hall towards the back of the cavernous room. With each passing step, the sounds became clearer. They came into focus enough so I could recognize syllables if not words. 

“Ill– Lix. No.”

It was Bangchan. I was sure of it. And someone was ill?

I continued the trail like a hunting dog who had picked up a scent, and the closer I got and the more I heard: the more my newest friends paranoia and panic made themselves known. I was walking so fast that I was almost running, but then I wasn't. When the sounds came fully into focus, I halted abruptly. I didn't see anyone but there were closed doors to either side of me and I could hear the hushed conversation as if they were whispering into my ear. 

“Do you want to make the risk greater for all of us?” Bangchan asked. There was authority in his words, but frustration as well. 

“But I–”

“You were a special case, Felix. You're one of us,” he interrupted before Felix could finish his thought. 

“That's selfish, Chan. That's not like you,” Felix scolded with sadness laced in every word. I found myself holding my breath, listening intently to something that clearly wasn't meant to be overheard. 

“We have to look out for our own. You, the rest of the Kids: you're my priority.”

“She's tied to Minho. Nothing is going to change that unless she dies. You know that, Chan.”

My heart started beating so hard in my chest that I had to will myself to calm down so I could continue hearing. Tied to Minho and death? Maybe it was a leap of logic, but I knew in my gut they were talking about me. They had to be, but how was I tied to him?

“I know, and he likes it about as well as she probably would.”

“So we leave her to die?” Panic mixed with his sadness, and my heartbroke. As a casual fan, I knew Felix was known for being the sunshine. He was sweet, soft – almost innocent in a way. He was so caring even over a near stranger. 

My hands balled up into fist. I suddenly felt protective. I wanted to murder anyone who so much as looked sideways at him. He was too good – too pure – to sound so melancholy. Images – not unlike the ones I had of Minho – flashed in my mind. They switched from a faceless enemy to Bangchan and back again. 

“You know that's not what I'm saying. I don't want that and I wouldn't let that happen,” Bangchan rejected the notion. He sounded tired – exhausted even. My anger simmered from a rolling boil to something much easier to handle. 

“But you are! You know what's going to happen if we don't say anything. It's happened so many times, I've lost count,” Felix argued with a whine in his voice. 

“It didn't happen to you,” Bangchan pointed out. 

“That’s because you told me. Had you not, I probably would have died too.”

“Lix, I only told you when you had adjusted enough to accept it. We have to give it time.” 

“I don't think she has time. Her emotions are out of control, her Mark is expanding, and she tried to kill Minho. If the Association even got wind–”

“They haven't and they won't,” Bangchan interrupted with finality. 

Felix’s tirade confirmed that they were talking about me, unless attempts on Minho's life were a common occurrence. I certainly shouldn't have listened in on a private conversation, but I could no longer just walk away. Their argument only brought me more answers than questions. Unanswered questions combined with danger ignited into another spiral. It wasn't red; it was the gray of steely determination. 

“You can't–”

My entire body trembled. My hand shook so hard that I struggled with the metal door handle, my nails clacking against it clumsily. The sounds of hushed conversation immediately ceased. They knew I was coming. 

Heart pounding, I entered their space and found myself staring into the dark eyes of Bangchan. He was right at the other side of the doorway, awaiting my arrival with irritation evident in his features. It probably would have had human me cowed into submission, but I was no longer human and I was finally starting to accept that unwanted fact. 

“Explain,” I stated firmly as I stared at him with as much unwaveringly firmness as I could. 

“Explain?” He repeated incredulously. “I wasn't the one eavesdropping on a private conversation.”

“No, but the conversation was about me. I should be involved,” I insisted. I had dealt with Minho's chaotic drama and threats, but Bangchan had been nothing but kind to me. He smiled easily, flashing his damned dimples like a get out of jail free card. It had been so easy to feel comfortable around him, but I was not prepared to face Leader Bangchan. 

He wasn't particularly tall, but he had a way of extending his presence to oppress any rebellion with a simple look. It was a look of authority, command. I didn't want to give in. I didn't want to avert his gaze, but I found my eyes falling to my hands. They were unconsciously tugging at the hem of my own shirt– a nervous habit. 

“I didn't mean to,” I interrupted his intense silence by way of apology.

“You didn't mean to snoop outside the door where a conversation that didn't involve you was taking place?” Christopher asked with eerily familiar sarcasm dripping from his every word. It didn't suit him, but it was reminiscent of something his much more sullen bandmate would say. 

“I could hear you. I wasn't trying to!”

“How did you hear us?” Felix asked. Until his calming voice floated onto the air, I had forgotten he was there under the intense stare of Bangchan. My attention turned to him, and my breath hitched in the back of my throat. I had been out of my mind during my first encounter with Lee Felix. I didn't have the mental space at the time to fully take him in. 

All of Stray Kids were unnaturally attractive. They all would make a Greek statue look like a pale imitation of perfection, but Felix’s beauty went even further. He was ethereal – so beautiful it was painful to look at but you couldn't bear to look away. It was the type of beauty that others – male or female – would kill to possess or protect. It was not the type of beauty that anyone would ever be immune to. 

His stare made it all the more unbearable. It made me feel like I was drowning in thick, molten honey. It was a sweet suffocation that was stripping away all of my oxygen to reveal the very depths of my soul. It was not a death I could resist. I was not one that I wanted to resist. 

“I don't know,” I answered him with full honesty. I didn't want to lie to him, but I had a strange feeling that I wouldn't have been able to even if I wanted to. “I got to the gym and I could just hear you.”

“The entrance?” Felix prodded. 

“Yes.”

I saw him turn his honeyed stare to Bangchan. He looked at his group's leader pointedly. There was a silent exchange, one I was not privy to with no chance of deciphering. 

“Call Minho,” Bangchan instructed suddenly with a solemn nod at Felix. He turned and did as he was told without hesitation. 

“What's going on?” I asked warily. 

“It's not our place to tell you,” Bangchan answered. His face was all hard lines firmly cut in stone. It was such a stark contrast to my other experience with him that it made my heart ache. His expression softened suddenly, as if sensing my emotions as easily as reading a book. “I'm sorry. My hands are tied here.”

His apology had me falling into an unsettling silence that was pierced only by the shrill sound of Felix’s phone as he called Minho. The noise rattled my frayed nerves as it droned endlessly. I could feel the emotions bubbling in the pit of my stomach. Of course Minho wouldn’t answer when it felt like my questions were on the cusps of answers.

My hands worked the hem of my shirt with a slight shake. I looked frantically around the room for something to distract myself, but the only things to be found were old gym mats and dust. It swirled in the fluorescent lighting, creating tiny tornadoes of allergens that would make most humans sneeze and run for the Benadryl. 

Did Vampyres have allergies? 

The thought had a cackle slipping from me like sand through fingers. It was ridiculous. I was ridiculous and Lee Minho was still firmly on my shitlist despite my dreams. 

“Are you okay?” Bangchan asked. He was staring at me in a mixture of shock, amusement, and concern. It only made me laugh harder. 

“Do you have allergies, Channie?” I asked breathlessly between fits of giggles. I didn’t even realize I used the nickname until the damage was done. Maybe I was mildly delirious, but it felt much better than calling him anything else. He raised a brow, contemplating something quietly.

“I don’t,” he shrugged after a moment. “I had a buddy during my trainee days who would break out in hives if he drank type A, but I think that had more to do with his donor than anything else.”

I sobered for just a moment, long enough for the information to register with my oddly disconnected brain. I pressed my lips together tightly, trying to contain the raucous laughter I knew was bubbling. Felix’s phone rang again, the outgoing call endlessly buzzing in my ears as I tried to contain myself. 

“You know?” I wheezed. “I’m going to kill Lee Minho.”

“Are you, now?” Chan asked with mild humor.

“Yes. I might do it with my copy of Marked. They are both useless–”

“He should be here–” Felix interrupted me softly just as the door banged open and a very annoyed looking Minho burst made a bristling entrance. “Now.”

“No one looks dead to me, Lix,” he quipped with frustration as looked at each of us in turn. His gaze held mine when he found me, and my heart sped up in my chest to the point of being an arrhythmia. He looked perturbed beyond measure, and there was a faint smear of blood at one corner of his mouth. My mouth watered, and I huffed all the air in the room like it was a limited resource. 

“Heart disease, Chan?” I asked weakly.

“Excuse me?” Chan asked in confusion. 

“Can Vampyres have heart disease?” I clarified. I couldn’t bring myself to look away from Minho even as I spoke to Chan. He was all that I could see. He was all that I could smell, and he smelled sweet, spicy, and tangy all at once. It made me dizzy and lightheaded, but it also had fire burning to every inch of my body. It was consuming. It was burning every brain cell I had one by one until there was nothing left but him. 

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Chan answered. 

“But that’s not what's wrong with you,” Felix supplied from wherever he was. 

I didn’t see him, and I didn’t want to because Minho’s tongue had peeked out from his lips to lick the smear from the corner of his mouth. I watched the movement like I was watching the most important moment in world history. I watched like a predator stalking its prey. I watched like a stupid, hormonal Mark that wanted things she couldn’t have– shouldn’t even want to have. 

“Bloodlust,” Minho said. I saw his lips moving. I heard the sound, but it took an embarrassing amount of time for both of those things to connect.

“Bloodlust?” I asked dumbly.

“The smell? The burning need? It’s bloodlust.” It wasn’t Minho who confirmed it, but Felix. 

“For fucks sake, Min. Clean yourself up when you leave your donor,” Chan huffed in exasperation. 

“I would have,” Minho grunted. His pupil-blown stare hadn’t left me since it found me, but finally he blinked and took a deep breath that made his chest rise harshly. On his exhale, he looked away to regard Felix with an accusatory stare. “But someone told me there was an emergency.”

“You wouldn’t have come, otherwise,” Felix responded with a nonchalant shrug at his older friend. “Besides, this could very well turn into an emergency.”

“It’s time to explain things,” Chan started with a hint of the hard authority he had used earlier in his tone. 

“No,” Minho cut him off. He was certainly not as easily subdued as I had been. A strange, demented little part of my brain wondered which one of them would win in a fight. As I contemplated their differences in size and muscle density, the demented side spiraled. 

Sweaty. Shirtless. Angry. Muscles taut.

Reality didn’t help my unbidden fantasy. Chan had stood straighter, giving him the facade of being taller than he actually was. The muscles under his smooth skin flexed with tension as he took a step closer to Minho. He was projecting an image of hard authority in the straight lines of his face, but Minho did not flinch. 

“It’s not your responsibility, Chan.”

“But you are; you’re my responsibility. You can’t–”

“No.” Calm. Unaffected. Serene. 

“Do you want it to happen?” Chan asked with incredulity. “Because I know you, Minho. I know you too well, and I don't think you do.”

“Minji”, Minho called suddenly. He was staring down his leader even as he snapped my name through the air. I jolted, every nerve alight and ready for… something. “Leave.”

“Abso-freaking-loutely not,” I snapped back. Despite my lungs expanding harshly for air and my heart beating erratically, my feet were planted firmly to the ground.

At my rebellion, Minho broke his staredown with his leader to turn to me. There was still a faint trace of blood at the corner of his lip, and his eyes held a slightly unhinged glint to them that had the fine hairs on my arms standing up. Alarm bells rang in my head, screeching a tune of danger and death as adrenaline coursed through my system. 

This was not Dream Minho. This was Minho in reality, and he could ruin me if he so desired. I had no doubt in my mind that he would enjoy draining me – killing me. 

“I command,” Minho started. At that word – that stupidly simple word – something inside of me broke. It was almost like I could physically feel it snap. It was a violent rumble that had my body standing at full attention and my focus solely on my mentor, my own personal devil. “That you leave this entire floor.”

I was moving, feet shuffling to the door even as my brain protested the motions. I couldn’t even form words of protest, just a simple cry of indignation that had me feeling more weak and pathetic than I ever had in my life. My hand shook as I pushed open the offending barrier and stepped out into the hall. 

“That was cruel, Min, and you know it,” I heard Felix call as he hurried after me. I felt his hand on my shoulder, guiding me out even though there was no need. I couldn’t stop moving if I wanted to. 

“Felix,” I managed as we shuffled the halls together. My feet were still moving without direction from me, and my voice was shaking with reckless panic. He made a hum of acknowledgement. It was a deep sound, but soothing. It wiped away some of the emotions that were choking me until I was finally able to voice my question. “What the hell was that?”

“It’s–” he sighed as he stopped himself. The only sounds were our feet hitting the tiled floors, a mop splashing in a bucket from a janitor I couldn’t see, and the distant rumble of exercise equipment from the gym we had left behind.

“I can hear things I shouldn’t be able to hear,” I explained at his hesitation. “I’m having dreams I shouldn’t be having. I could not physically stop myself from listening when Minho told me to leave. I’m starting to think I might actually be going crazy, because none of this seems like weird quirks of a genetic mutation but it almost seems like ma–”

“You’re Changing,” Felix cut me off, his voice still the smooth rumble that had my fear and panic ebbing to the wayside. It was like I could feel in my body, vibrating through until all I could feel was comfort and warmth. Human voices couldn’t do that, and I didn’t think it had anything to do with biology either. “Part of the Change is enhanced senses.”

“That doesn’t–”

“And Mentor relationships are really strong bonds,” he continued over my weak attempt at a protest. “It’s only natural you would listen when he tells you something.”

“Bullshit,” I huffed. It was only then that I noticed his hand was still on my shoulder. I shrugged it off and felt every ounce of warmth leave at the loss of contact. We stepped onto the main floor, and I finally had regained control of my body. Anger, fear, and panic caused its way through my veins – taking root in my blood like a virus I couldn’t control. “None of this is natural.”

“Nature can be manipulated,” he stated. His body language radiated calm, but his eyes told a story of helplessness. I was fuming, angry at the situation but also at the stubborn personalities I was in the thick of it with. Violence and I were becoming well acquainted, but I couldn’t take out my frustrations on Felix. I could never and would never.

“Through science? Yes, but this doesn’t seem like any form of science I was taught in school,” I said, the fight melting from me like wax. 

“The Association,” Felix began, the words making his face twist in disgust. “They call Vampryic manipulation ‘Auras.’ They say it's a projection of Vampyre specific pheromones. All Vampyres have them, but not all of them act the same.”

“They say?”

“Yes.”

“What do you say?” I asked softly. 

At my gentle prodding, Felix looked around us as if noticing our surroundings for the first time since we stepped out of the stairwell. We were on ground level, the main floor of JYP Entertainment. People in business attire wove their way through the hall and around us, but none of them were paying us much mind outside of a quizzical glance or two before disappearing down side halls or into unmarked rooms. They all seemed unremarkable: humans going about their business in low level positions within the company. 

“I say the Association says a lot, and I’m still trying to figure out what’s true,” Felix whispered. It was such a low sound, that I wouldn’t have been able to hear it had I been human. 

“Is that thing you do with your voice an Aura?” I asked, just as quietly.

“And touch, yes.”

“What about Minho being able to make me leave?”

“No.”

“What is it, then?” My palms were starting to sweat, as my mind raced. Our conversation was spoken in soft, hushed tones that no one would be able to hear unless they too possessed the enhanced senses of a Vampyre. Our body language was relaxed, giving the image of two friends simply having a casual albeit quiet word. It was a facade, as so many things in JYP were. 

“Something different: natural, but twisted. A manipulated fate.”

I wanted to break the facade. I wanted to scream. Felix had given me more than anyone else had designed to, but it was confusing and vague.

Nature implied that something was inherently a part of the natural world. It was something that had been, and always would be. It was understandable, a product of biology and evolution that could be broken down into reason. It was complex, but there was always a cause and causation. It was grounded in reality. 

Fate was much more murky. It could not be explained in such concise terms. It was the concept of destiny; something that had to be but had no reason to be. It was not something that could be manipulated, and it was something I had always thought of as hocus pocus. People decided their own destiny without the myth of a guiding hand nudging them down a preset path.

I hadn’t decided to be Marked. I hadn’t made the decision to enter JYP. I didn’t get a choice on who would be my mentor. These had all been factors out of my control: happenstance. It was not a divine act.

I refused to believe that Lee Minho had any role to play in my life outside of being a pain in my ass. He was a pain in my ass who made my blood boil and my emotions explode in uncontrollable fits. He was a pain in my ass who could have me at his beck and call with a simple ‘command.’ He was a pain in my ass, but he was not my fate. 

“She's tied to Minho. Nothing is going to change that unless she dies.”

[polarisgreenley]

🌷Writer Interview Game 🌷

Thank you @galaxiasgreen, @gingerlegacy07 and @zetadraconis11 for the tags!

When did you start writing?

According to AO3, 2014.

It was for another fandom, and then disappeared for 7 years until 2021. But that one I'm at the limbo of leaving up or abandoning since I don't have plans on writing out the rest...

Hogwarts Legacy pulled me back in 2023 and still going decently strong 💪

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I have the opposite where I stay clear of any romance novels, but will eat up fanfiction pairings and am planning on including a romance subplot somewhere.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

If I could even have a morsel, a smidgen, a crumb of Agatha Christie's writing abilities...

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

80% of the time I write at my computer desk. Keyboard, dual monitor, speakers... a Maurauder's Map desk mat... there's usually at least one mug and a water tumbler. A few books on flowers, runes, D&D and CoC rulebooks, etc.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Rewatching or playing the source material, as well as daydreaming. Bouncing off ideas and expanding theories has proven fruitful as well.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Slow-burn. I haven't written enough for any other recurring themes, I think. Oh, and flowers. Lots and lots of flowers (and their language).

What is your reason for writing?

Creative outlet.

Is their any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I love all of the comments that've been left (though only really started interacted the past year), but my favorites are those where I get to hear how the reader interpreted the writing. It's like seeing their thought process which is always lovely to get to know 😊

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Just a regular human like everyone writing out blorbos of something I enjoy and hope they enjoy it as well 😊

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I've been told I'm good at descriptive writing, but I'm still working on what I think of it is for myself.

How do you feel about your own writing?

It is what it is - some days it feels better than others. I want to cringe at what I wrote in the past, but they're still an important stepping stone and shows the progress (sort of).

No pressure tags (sorry if you've been tagged already - I took 1,500 years to do this 😅): @dom1re @thefeatherwrites @theladyofshalott1989

Credit to @lyworth for the new divider that she generously gifted for my birthday 🥹

[localcanadiancreature62]

Lobotomy Husbands Prompt list.

Writing Prompt 4 - ForgetIt has been three weeks since the Perfect World was created. Bill and Ford are sitting at the bed together,holding hands as the genius reads a book while the triangle watches people from another dimension get murdered on a holographic projection made by his eye. Bill then takes a fond glance at his researcher husband as he thought of how lucky he is to be with someone as amazing as him. He hasn't felt this loved since.. Euclydia.

And with that,he suddenly has a vision of his parents screaming and pleading for mercy while his younger self merely looked at them bitterly. The triangle clutched his own eye as he started to sweat profusely from reliving the worst moment of his life,breathing heavily as the memory played over and over and Over like some horrible trick was being played on him. The guilt ate up at Bill as he felt like he was being consumed by the shame and the loss and the agony- until he felt a familiar six fingered hand gently grip his shoulder. "Bill!. Bill!. Snap out of it!." Ford calls out to his triangular husband as it turns out that the man was calling his name for a while before he finally got out of his flashback induced daze. "I- I'm here. I'm okay now. Th-Thanks Fordsy." Bill replied as he felt his breathing get a bit more stable,just processing what happened to him.

"What was that?,why were you tightly gripping your eye while sweating bullets?." Ford asks as the isosceles looks at him hesitantly,not wanting to bother his genius with his dumb feelings although he knew he would just keep urging him until he gave in otherwise so he explained anyway despite feeling reluctant to be so vulnerable around him. "I.. relived the horrible moment i destroyed my dimension. I was just watching my daily killing spree program with you earlier but then it happened,i was there watching my kid self burn everything i ever knew to the ground. I KILLED MY PARENTS,FORD! I'M A MONSTER! I DON'T DESERVE TO BE WITH YOU OR BE AROUND ANYONE ELSE BECAUSE I'M A STUPID RECKLESS IDIOT THAT LET MY DUMB EMOTIONS GET THE BETTER OF ME!." Bill exclaims as he started crying,big fat tears streaming from his eye as the genius' expression softens while looking at his poor muse in pity as he then hugged him tight as an attempt to squeeze the pain out of him. The triangle whimpers and sobs as he felt familiar strong arms gently but firmly embrace him as he felt so pathetic yet safe in his husband's embrace,letting the researcher soak up all of his burdens. "You may have been a monster,but you're doing better now right?. You left that life behind to be with me in our lovely home. I think that makes you deserve a charming genius such as myself,give yourself more credit my dear muse~." Ford reassures as Bill smiled at him,feeling comforted by the man's words despite how pitiful and low he feels from having the need to be coddled like a child to feel better. "I guess so. Thanks,i needed that Sixer." Bill replied as the genius wiped off his tears with his finger. "You're welcome,my muse. Now come here and let me hold you better." Ford says as the triangle nodded and went over to sit on his lap,letting himself get embraced once more as he basked in his researcher husband's warmth. 'I haven't been hugged like this since Mom died... And it feels so good,but i hate it. I hate that i have dumb feelings that makes me need to be coddled like this,i hate that i need to be comforted. I'm Bill fucking Cipher,i shouldn't want this. I can destroy worlds and recreate them from will for fuck's sake. I- I can't. I can't be vulnerable, it's disgusting. I'm sorry Ford,you're gonna have to forget this.' Bill thought to himself as he then fixed his position so that he's facing his genius who smiled at him again,unaware of what the isosceles was going to do as he just thought that the triangle wanted to look at him better. He then touches the man's forehead and physically takes out the memory of his outburst,burning it like he did with the argument that lead to him creating the Perfect World. Then he looked at the disoriented genius as he then moved away from the man's embrace,going back to holding his hand while watching a holographic projection of people getting killed again as he couldn't stand feeling weak like earlier once more. Ford then comes back to his senses as he processed the fact that the isosceles was holding his hand and he went back to reading his book like nothing happened.

[ariesmusingz]

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ╱ white noise ( deluxe ) sentence starters pt 1 ( created using lyrics from pvris' white noise deluxe album. feel free to adjust to fit your muse. )

i know it's warmer where you are and it's safer by your side

right now i can't be what you want

just give it time

if you and i can make it through the night

if you and i can keep our love alive

we'll find we can meet in the middle

bodies and souls collide

dance in the moonlight when all the stars align for you and i

i know it's cold when we're apart

i hate to feel this die

you can't give me what i want

for now we stay so far til our lonely limbs collide

i can't keep you in these arms

i'll keep you in my mind

we stay so far

can we meet in the middle?

i want the world to believe that there's a light inside of me

it's time that i'll come clean

i'm not what i seem

some would say i'm possessed

i'll confess

i've just been obsessed with life and death and emptiness

can't you see all of the change in me?

you took all these starving limbs

tried to see what they cold be

i thought i would be something

i thought you'd complete me

that you'd erase all the pain that i felt in my brain

you filled my heart with love then you'd fill the voids above

now you see that didn't change a thing

what do you want from me?

i'm empty

this isn't violence

this is just a war in my head

i give it time but it never seems to end

i feel a fire in the back of my throat

so let's get covered in flames and play some games with the smoke

don't you try to run right now cause baby, i could burn you down

you make your way into my veins

course right through my limbs and dig your way into my brain

int he second that you walk into a room i can't help myself from the things that you do

you're killing me right now

i think it's time you burn me down

i love the things we do when it's just me and you

i'm burning up

you're just a ghost of blissful feelings

a cloud of smoke that i keep breathing

i'm losing you to the games in my mind

i see your face

now it's changed, shape shifting

don't wanna open my eyes

you give me something to talk about

i know it's chemicals that make me cling to you

i need a miracle to get away form you

i'm not spiritual

i think you're a saint

i think you're an angel

you give me something to talk about that's not the shit in my head

you're a miracle

transparent hands around my neck

i love the way you let me breathe instead

take in your chemicals

you're a glimpse of bliss

a little taste of heaven

i need a miracle to bring me back to you

i know you're gone now but i still wait for you

i still wait for you

i feel you in these walls

you're a cold air creepin' in

chill me to the bones and skin

i heard you down the hall but it's vacant when i'm looking in

who let you in?

you walk around like you own the place

you never say anything

i caught you walking straight through my walls

guess it was all my fault

i think i let you in

never thought that i would feel like this

such a mess when i'm in your presence

i've had enough

think you've been making me sick

gotta get you out of my system

it's my house and i think it's time to get out

it's my soul

it isn't yours anymore

i think it's time to get out

you're at my bedroom door

heard your footsteps on the floor

closer than ever before

now you're in my room

under sheets, avoiding you

i can hear you pace

circling my bed frame

we're face to face

head on my pillow case

darling, you can't stay

haven't you heard?

i'm not yours anymore

chill me to my bones and skin

you've got it all but you've got it all wrong

you don't know

you're a poor unfortunately soul

i know you make it seem like you feel whole

you put on a faith facade

think you're holy when you're not

i hate to break it to you baby, but you're simply lost

you can right all the wrongs just to feel like you belong

simply calling out sings don't bring you closer to god

you're just a ghost at most

a set of empty bones

searching for anything and everything to make you feel whole

you're all alone

you can't control where your body lets you go

you say i've got it all wrong

there's no way that there's weight in the words that you preach

when you're claiming your faith and you contradict your speech

i sit here and listen to your tongue and cheek

i know that when you sit and pray, you're only praying for keeps

you can't control where your body lets you go

you're shallow and empty and filled with regret

i think that chest must be heavy from that cross on your neck

you only wear cause you're wary of what comes next after your death

don't think i didn't notice

don't think i didn't know

[wetcatspellcaster]

Writer Interview Game

thank you so much for tagging me @eraserspiral !!!!

When did you start writing?

I wrote a lot of 'original fiction' as a teen, including a couple of TERRIBLE novels, that were essentially just a grab bag of all the books i was reading at the time. School (and in hindsight, grief) stopped this around 16-18, and then a very high pressure degree at a high profile university seemingly killed off my love of writing entirely.

I got back into writing at 26... weirdly?? just before the panini?? (january 2020, did past-me feel something in the water and know i'd need to hold onto any crumb of serotonin for dear life??) I had just finished my PhD applications, and after sinking so many hours and so many words into the most joy sucking series of forms I've ever encountered, I decided I wanted to write something fun for a change!

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I don't write smut. I read a LOT of smut.

But in terms of themes, I tend to write in worlds/fantasy settings where we can all pretend that capitalism doesn't exist, or that if it does exist, the protagonist is winning at it. I really like speculative fiction (sf and fantasy) that tackles capitalistic themes/poverty well - this has been on my mind recently bc of an arc in a D&D game I've been playing, where my wonderful DM has essentially gone 'capitalism bad' but then let us do something about it <3

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I find it hard to know what my writing 'is like'... not bc it's wildly unique or anything, but just bc I don't think I can see my own influences that clearly (if anyone wants to drop me some comparisons in the askbox, go for it, I'm curious!)

But in terms of writers I want to emulate, at the chatty/colloquial end it's T Kingfisher and Sarah Rees Brennan, who have a good handle on when to hit emotionally or on high fantasy register, and then when to have really grounded/human moments that make their characters incredibly relatable (and often very funny). At the high fantasy end, it's Shannon Chakraborty, Ann Leckie, Nghi Vo, Silvia Moreno Garcia. They write haunting and engaging narratives!

And, of course, I'm always trying to muster an ounce of whatever the fuck Howl/Sophie had going on.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I use my desk for work/thesis and want to exclusively keep it that way, so my writing space is actually just on the corner of the sofa in my living room, with my legs crossed, a blanket, and a cup of tea. No music, pure autistic silence (but also bc my laptop speaker is broken). Scotland gets dark for a long time in the winter, so it's usually pretty cosy vibes. It's probably not good for me, as I get a LOT of leg cramp.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Honestly, not to be tsundere about it... but maybe ignore the muse a little? If you've burned out or you're trying to brute force a scene, all you're doing is guilting yourself into being productive. With fic writing, especially, you should be doing it to have fun, not bc you feel like you have to. So if the words aren't coming, do other things for a bit. Go on a day trip, hang out with friends, do chores or read something. In my experience, my brain doesn't stay quiet for long, and ideas for my current project will come to me when i'm not trying to squeeze them out of myself like toothpaste.

Sometimes the well runs dry! Rather than feel terrible about it, be kind to yourself, and wait for rain x

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Hahahahaha, let's not talk about how I keep placing people into the worst versions of themselves and then have them improve and earn love anyway, regardless of if they deserve it. Or how I'm interested in characters who feel a wealth of emotion they hide from everyone behind a mask of either performed indifference, wilful charm, or simply bc they can't articulate it in the socially correct way. Or women who think 'if I cannot be beautiful or loveable, I will be competent', and the men who-

Anyway, introvert x extrovert pairings, amirite? Everything else is shown to me in a vision (my therapist reaches a dead end in my session as I insist nothing is wrong, asks me about my fanfic, and then delivers me a laundry list of the stuff I'm currently coping with. Lowest point: being told im IDing through the fucking DARKLING, on one project. That man is a war criminal, and I dont look like Ben Barnes).

What is your reason for writing?

In the beginning, I think it was pure comfort. I'd just come out of a period of extreme depression, and wanted to hallucinate some characters in love.

But recently, and going forward, I think it is a genuine exercise in proficiency. I thought my writing was so terrible that I said 'I couldn't write', for so fucking long. I now genuinely think this is something I'm good at, and that is something it has taken me so very long to believe, and even longer to say. I am a very self-deprecating person. I have so few things I feel good at, or that I think bring something worthwhile to the table. As academia delivers me blow after blow and the world leaves me feeling worthless, I am going to cling to this until my hands bleed.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

focusing on the 'motivation' part of this question... I think the comments that happen to land on the one specific thing that matters to me, those are the ones that hit hardest. It happens rarer than you'd think. part of the joy of fanfiction comments is the wealth of different reader interpretations, with people seeing things in your own work that you've never noticed. All interpretations are amazing, especially the ones that show you a blindspot you never considered. But when a reader hits the nail fucking on the head (gets a 'gold star in reading comprehension'), that's the most motivating, and makes me want to open my document and write the next chapter. Because I know then that at least one person out there 'gets it', and is fully on board with the story I want to tell.

But that is a very selfish, specific feeling. All comments are motivation, and all reader interpretations have value!

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Idk if this seems weird or a disingenuous answer but... as a person?? Writing a story for fun? Pieces was a very cool and special experience, but it was very unexpected. I wasn't and never considered myself to be a 'big name fan'. I never want to enter any kind of popularity contest, and I never want to be beholden to people who are reading a story I am writing for fun. Very funny to have a story blow up when you have weird feelings about attention lmfao. Like don't get me wrong, absolutely amazing to ride such a huge tide of support, but this was meant to be my silly introvert hobby :')

I also hope they think my writing is good!! obviously!! i know it can't be everything everyone wants all the time, but you know!! i think it's neat!! I hope y'all think it's neat!! plz and thank!!!

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

lmao eraserspiral's reply to this question was a fucking mood. (just deleted it in my template to make space).

I guess... I know how to flesh out a character, and a character voice. I think I can establish a character's personality, their strengths and their flaws, and have them consistently become the vehicle for both progression and some very real, understandable mistakes. I think chapters from different perspectives feel distinct, and that when development in either direction (bad or good) happens, it feels earned.

idk man, this is a hard one to answer when depressed :')

How do you feel about your own writing?

At the end of the day, it's a lifeline. Sometimes I keep very much to myself and I protect it fiercely, because it's one of the only things that kept me going at certain points in the last few years. At my lowest, I've often wondered for what, if anything, I'll be remembered for or what I'll leave behind... and now I actually have things! 12 whole stories, where once there was nothing! Sure, it's fanfic! But some people's favourite fanfic. None of it is perfect, but it all matters to me, and we're now at the point (4 years in) where I am starting to slowly realise how it has changed me as a person, and will continue to change me going forward.

I want to start on some original ideas once my thesis is over, vivaed and done, but I don't currently see my writing as anything something I can make into a career, bc I need to keep the joy in it as the joy literally keeps me alive :')

tagging: @imscissorbladez, @pricemarshfield, @blarfshnorgull, @violacae, @dededrabbles, @brabblesblog - no pressure, just trying to share this tag game to more groups/social circles! :) x