#Also I know there are details on Silver's outfit that I messed up a bit but I can’t fix it rn TvT

[souslesetoilesavectoi]

Happy (belated) Birthday to me~~~!!!

It’s insane that’s it’s been over a year since I’ve been on here, loll~~ Thank you so much for always supporting me, guys~!!!! ♡♡ ( ^ω^ )

[upn-the-sky]

Give me God of War!! (Ares OOAK, Part 2)

Just a reminder that there was Part 1 of this madness.

OKAY

I wanted to wait until I finish sword and spider legs before making a post, but there are three days after finishing the whole armor and I can't wait, I am screaming about Ares's supremacy.

Now I can say, it was hard. And the most hard thing was finding a balance. There are differences between Ares's 3D models from the different years, even in color palette. And I wanted to be as much close to the first game design as it possible. Some features were fully recreated from GOW1, some others I found more good at latest model from GOW3 and reworked them according to it. So at the end we have a good symbiosis I think.

Now let's a take a bow and look a bit closer at the mess under the cut.

Preparatory process

Until eyes are frightened, you can't do anything. To be honest I had no idea from where to start, the plan sounded like a "How to draw an owl" tutorial. Complexity of his armor scared me as hell, and after spending some time with drawings, where I tried to figure out a hook and loop system, which should attach parts to each other, I gave up and started to make his scaly iron belt, it felt more easier. YEAH.

Iron belt

You can see it at the screenshot. Well, one of the versions. Seems, it has no purpose beside decorative, I mean, maybe it can protect the groin, but eh, not really, honestly. At GOW3 model of dead Ares it became more detailed with round flower-like pendants and a little green jewel drops, but also it became golden as all metallic elements. I decided to make everything silver, but anyway, belt is very beautiful and I headcanon it is the same belt, which Ares gifted to his daughter Hippolyte in the past.

I weaponised myself with the smallest crochet hook and red thread and started to knit. WHY KNIT YOU ASK?? I don't know, it is easier for me than sewing all these scales %) Maybe they represents some fishy motives? (His connection with Aphrodite). Or serpent? (One of Ares's children, who was killed by Kadmus). Maybe green jewels is a hint to his mother Hera, because she loves emeralds. Who knows.

Scales, flowers, suns, glass drops.. If I were Ares, I'd present it to my beloved warrior daughter too.

Pteruges

As an example of the true manliness, Ares wears a skirt of course. He is not a barbarian, who hides his beautiful freckled thighs in the pants! How dare we to judge..

The easy part was to make a leather stripes and pierce them with the rivets (little nails, which I cut after this to left a head only). The hard part (which I had a chance to feel over and over again) was to figure out how to attach it to the body and hide all of the fasteners, and how to let stripes flow on his thighs and how the hell it should cover his.. godlike butt, I can't believe I wrote this.. %)

ANYWAY, A MONTH LATER I decided to make it a single piece with the iron belt, by creating a two-part wide leather base, attach knitted waistband to it, then join the each stripe to the separate piece of cloth to make them movable, then attach this cloth to the leather and sew some hooks. Aaaand the final result!

Cuirasse

I just say I literally hanged up myself with it. Here will be ranting...

Let's just think that it is not enough just to recreate appearence. In making 3D you can ignore some aspects like hidden straps and strings, which keeps armor conjoint on the human body. But how to make it wearable to the doll body, which is not soft and has a stable reliefs? How to make armor firm and shaped, but not completely firm, so it can be taken off from the body? Yes, my wish from the beginning was to make whole armor with a possibility to take it off and send nudes dress Ares in different outfit, which i will also make someday. How to make it light, so the doll can stand by itself? How to make it textured, to make it looks rough, to imitate metal or at least used condition? How to make metal parts without using a metal?

OKAY, WE NEED TO BE CANON - I thought and it was a day I decided to not invent armor, but use an experience of the hellenic people, who was smarter than me, I guesse. Because long time ago these people invented Linothorax - composite armor made of laminated linen fabric. ____

First of all, I splited Ares's cuirass to the segments: chest+collar segment, belly segment, spine segment, which emphasizes Ares's love to hunching over a little, and a waist-and-lower segment. Plus cuirasse has chained shoulder straps and side straps.

Well, when you have all elements, it is easier to imagine a complete piece. After that you just buy fabric, glue, chains, 27 hours for your day, new eyes, paint and other stuff. You wrap the body with the film and tape to protect it and start to glue. And here it is time for me to shut up, I know, you are here to watch a process, not to read an essay. I started from the front pieces of course. You imagine a pattern, you cut it, you glue it to hold the natural body forms as close as possible. Collar was formed right here. Gladly we can remove Ares's head when we want to do it...

Waist piece (eheh, spider butt (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ) and first attempt to assemble the cuirasse. Here I literally lost my last brain cells and bravery, stopped the process and didn't make straps until the last week.

Anyway A MONTH LATER!!11 after the first assemble I started to sculp a relief of the reinforced chest and the metallic collar. Also we can check how's our decapitated dogs doing. Here you can see a belly piece of the cuirasse, which needed it's own dog decor. I was that meme boy with a knife, yeah..

Seemed they doing great! I felt that and decided to finish arm armor. Shoulder pads and bracers Thankfully making them requires the same process: cut a pattern, glue it, repeat for each arm. Here is close ups of the leather "feathers" pierced by rievets, chained bracers (I am very proud that I recreated it fully like at the Ares model. Bracers has no other strings and stays at arm only because of the chains) and shoulder pads as a base and as a complete, fully Cerbered piece. Actually this part wasn't really difficult, I've just delayed the inevitable.

Boots The first GOW novel says he weared sandals!!! Bloodstained SANDALS! But this novel was written much later, so we are making rocker boots. ᕕ(シ)ᕗ HEY!, we are laughing here, but Ares is smart, Ares don't want to break his toes by kicking someone's helmet! Maybe after having some experience %)))

Well, as I said in my previous posts, his boots was the most agressive part his armor. Heel and shoes toes should be firm, but sole should stay soft. Also the whole construction of the boots should looks monolite with the greavers which cover up the layers of the material above the ankles. Don't forget about the chains and double emotional damage, because there is two legs!

A little more damage as a person you receive, when you understand that you need to process each edge of each piece, because all armor pieces has visible layers. And only after that you can paint everything, draw Ares's assymetrical ornaments and dress him up.

That's how we reach the end. Here he is. O defence of Olympus, father of warlike Victory, ally of Themis, stern governor of the rebellious, leader of righteous men. Kratos's yes-homo partner and his personal most vieceful enemy.

Ares! God of war!

Thank you everyone for your patience while reading this duvet cover. See ya in Part 3, Skeletor will return soon with a sword, spider legs and normal photos. And stay tuned, I will post some portraits next time!

[devious-chronicles]

grand opening

This is my first attempt at writing so please be nice, by that I mean give criticism but don't just go "this sucks" and expect me to get better. Also this is just a bit of an introduction to the world and main characters, expect the actual first installment to be much more detailed.

3:14 PM

The Jester was rushing. She knew she still had plenty of time before opening but Nines would be very upset with her if she wasn't as early as he was. The outfit was as hard to get on as ever, the black and white stripes seemed to blend into her pale skin making it hard for her to tell where she started and it ended. Looking in the mirror she couldn't help but admire her hat, Nines had let her pick it so she could feel more special than the other performer's in her act, the way the large silver bells hung behind her head letting a few curls of her red hair poke out of the bottom allowed her to remember she was something under the costume and the makeup. After she had wrapped herself in her red ribbon she took one last look at herself in the mirror and put on her mask, she felt happier already…

1:38 PM

Nines calmly adjusted his tie in the mirror “another day, another show.” He repeated, his hand wandering to caress one of the many pictures of his Jester that he had pinned around the mirror before he began to gather his things. He made sure not to arrive too early as to allow her some time to relax, he didn't want his prize overworking herself after all. As he made his way towards the door he took one final look at her picture before he disappeared into the flashing lights and glittering flames of the circus.

10:45 PM

The Jester stood still, Nines’s arm curled around her neck as he prepared her mentally for the big show. “Now my Dear as the star of the show it's best that you maintain your best manners at all times. The King would be rather angry with me if you messed this up.” he said. she nodded along even though she had heard it a thousand times and she really didn't need a reminder. Even if no one had ever seen him, The King was still the one running the show and she knew she couldn't make him angry. “Yes sir, I'll do my best I promise” she whispered as she looked up at him through her mask, watching as he smirked and pressed a kiss against the top of her hat, she's lucky she had her mask on or the staff would've seen her turn redder than her hair.

11:00 PM

Nines watched as his Jester practiced with the rest of the opening crew, this was the night, the grand opening, the big moment. He knew His jester wouldn't disappoint him, not with her knowing The King had a lot riding on this success. The other performers were already arriving and he knew they only had an hour to truly prepare. One hour… that's all it takes… one hour. He stepped back into the shadows before the others could notice him. He was gone by the time The Jester looked back over.

12:00 AM

The show was beginning, the curtains drawing back as The Jester stood front and center, ready for her time in the spotlight. She was a nervous wreck beneath it all but she wouldn't let it show. The tricks began as the other acrobats swirled around her in various positions and poses. She started her routine, she flipped and twirled through the air before landing into a cartwheel. She spun around the stage, the light flaring and the silver glitter sparkling in the air as she moved. The Acrobats whirled around her in patterns, a star, a moon, and finally the mask. It all came to a finish as she leaped into the air and landed in a handstand before the Acrobats lifted her up in one final pose.

2:30 AM

The Jester Sauntered through the halls, her shoulders slumped and the mask almost slipping from her face. She was exhausted, the opening was bad enough but her personal shows took a lot out of her. As she walked alone down the empty hallways she could feel herself falling asleep just standing up. She couldn't help but think about her nice bed and she almost wanted to speed up, though she didn't have it in her really, maybe she shou- her thoughts were interrupted as a gloved hand shot out from the shadows and pulled her in before her mask was quickly yanked away. The loud sound of lips smacking together echoed through the hall as Nines pulled her away.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

hi, ash! i'd love to hear about your ffxv s/i and your ship with gladio! also, what does iris think about your s/i? :O

YAY!! I love talking about this kind of stuff!!!

(Some talk of death, injury, drowning, a bit of blood + spoilers for the game)

F.FXV Ash was born in the Crown City to two members of the Crownsguard (eventually the Kingsglaive). Ever since she was young, Ash was always fed this idea that her kingdom was amazing. She loved her home so much and she wanted to grow up there forever with her parents and her sister. It all changed when she was 16. She parents were killed in combat.

(In Episode A.rdyn, there's a boss fight against two soldiers... Those were her parents.)

Ash stayed in the city long enough to graduate high-school, but after that, she just couldn't keep going. She felt hollow and empty inside. The murder of her parents shattered her in every single way possible, wrecked her faith and her love to kingdom, ruined her life. She's messed up.

And so, Ash leaves. She makes a name for herself as a monster hunter, drifting from town to town and protecting the people. She comes to be known as Eos' Rose. Beautiful, but with thorns too. She didn't choose to be called The Rose, it's just that part of her outfit is a long, red coat. I still need to work out the details of her outfit and all that, but she has a red coat and quite a few earrings. She has a chain threader going through two lobe piercings on one ear, and a dangling rose earring on the other. Both silver.

(Whenever she was about 20, she met a lonely chocobo chick. This chocobo stays with Ash for a long time. She is a green chocobo named Sage. Sage is Ash's companion and best friend. Sage is very friendly to everybody, but she has a distaste for Gladio and has tried to bite him on multiple occasions. She succeeded once, but more on that later.

Again, Sage is naturally green. Prompto asks about this once.

"Hey, Ash! Why is your chocobo green?"

"Well, I dunno, Prompto. Why are you blond?"

It gets a good chuckle out of everyone.)

Anyways, early into the game, the Chocobros run into Ash! She actually draws her sword on Noct at first and then she realizes "holy shit, you're the prince. Oh my god, I tried to kill the prince. Oh no, oh no, oh no-"

It's a bit of a funny moment, but she ends up allying with the bros and she gets especially close with Gladio. They get along really well, both protectors of people and absolutely dorks too.

Ash is a gamer, so she gets along well with Prompto and Noct. They actually all played Kings Knight together online! So it's a bit of a "WAIT WE'RE KINGS KNIGHT MOOTS?!" whenever they finally meet. She gets along really well with Ignis too! Ash is very close with all of the gang. It's not long before her and Gladio are falling in love, kissing and sharing Cup Noodles under the stars.

And as for Iris, Iris ADORES Ash! Looks up to her as the big sister she never had. Iris thinks Ash is so cool and strong! And she tells Gladdy that if he breaks her heart, she'll kick his ass! Ash really loves Iris too. She was always the youngest in her family too, so it means a lot to her to be able to be an older sister figure to someone. Ash teaches Iris a bit about how to use a sword too.

Anywho, back to the plot.

Ash accompanies the bros whenever they go onto the boat to Altissia. Her and Gladio have a sweet, romantic date there. But that happiness doesn't last. It's been a bit of a running joke that Ash doesn't know how to swim.

The last thing Gladio expected was to lose her.

As Altissia falls, Ash sacrifices herself to save Gladio and Prompto. They both have to watch as Ash falls from a bridge and into the water. They watch as Ash dies. But there's not enough time to save her. Prompto sobs, Gladio screams in horror. Ash is content. She's going to die protecting the people she loves, right? It's not that cute and her almost drowning to death was the scariest moment of her life. She's choking and gasping for air, trying to grab any rubble she can just to stay alive.

Ash isn't seen again for a while. It's part of the reason why Gladio lashes out on the train—he's mourning his girlfriend's death. Whenever he's sitting there across the table from Ignis, you can hear him crying.

However, a few chapters later... Guess who comes back. She's injured, has scars on her face, and her coat is in tatters. Gladio hugs her and cries, Ash tells him to loosen up a bit since she has a few cracked ribs.

"What's the matter? Not a fan of ghosts?"

Gladio tells her that this isn't the time to crack jokes, but he hugs her so tight. She was alive. She was okay.

(However, during this time, Gladio actually found Sage and told her that Ash was dead. Sage bit him hard that day.)

But... How exactly did Ash survive..?

That gets explained in Episode Ignis. I won't talk about Ash's involvement in every DLC just to not make this to lengthy, but in Iggy's... Ravus sees her drowning. He grabs her out of the water and onto land. He's not gentle about it, and the impact of being thrown against rubble isn't great for Ash's bones, but she's alive. Ash is nursed back to health by the survivors of the town. There's a lot more detail there, but that's the gist of what happens.

Ash's relationship with Ravus is fascinating. They bond quite a bit and have a chat under the stars much later, right before Ash reunites with Gladio. I had to dig through like two years worth of discord messages for this but it went something like this

Oh and you know that level that's just Gladio and Ignis? Yeah, Ash is there too. She cusses out Ardyn actually. Although I really like Ardyn, my S/I doesn't. He makes a comment that she's quite grown up now. You know how he gets those flashbacks of peoples' memories after he kills people in his DLC? He saw an image of a little girl with red glasses. And here she was, a grown woman.

She breaks off from the group before the Ravus fight. I don't want her to see him like that.

Anyways, then timeskip rolls around. Whenever Noct arrives at Hammerhead is met with a familiar "kweh-kweh!". Sage greets Noct after ten long years, and then Ash runs over. They have a cute hug scene.

However, Ash's outfit is different. Not only is her hair curly (pre-ts Ash had it straightened), but she's wearing... Kingsglaive armor?! Her outfit is vaguely inspired by Crowe from Kingsglaive, but Ash had become a soldier. Not just to follow in her parents' footsteps, but because she had spent her whole life feeling lost and she had finally found a purpose. Traveling with Noct and Co had made her realize that her life had a purpose. She wanted to spend her life protecting her kingdom.

After her parents died, she didn't know what to do with herself. Noct was both her best friend and her king. Noct says that the Kingsglaive outfit looks good on her. It makes her smile. Ash had finally come home to Insomnia, and she had finally found what she was meant to do.

Before the gang leaves, she gives Noct a long hug and tells him to come back alive. She gives Gladio a kiss too.

And that's basically it!

[fawnsflowerbed]

Hello, You (Part One) || Dark Leon Kennedy x Reader

(I KNOW I'M DOING REQUESTS BUT THIS IDEA HIT ME LIKE A BUS AND I WROTE IT ALL OUT IN A FEW HOURS SO TAKE IT)

MASTERLIST HERE!

You're something special, something Leon's never noticed before. And he's willing to do anything to make you his. You're connected, don't you know that?

Warnings/content: I WOULD CLASSIFY THIS AS A SEMI DARK FIC, suggestive language and allusions so NO MINORS THANK YOU KINDLY, fem reader, Y/N used, from Leon's perspective, mention of violence, OOC RE6 Leon, very stalker vibes.

This is inspired by the Netflix series 'You'.

Word count in full: 3K estimate

So here’s a face I’ve never seen before. In all of my years working here I’ve never once seen anyone like you. Everyone else in every other division either looks miserable or hungover from celebrations after assignments came to a close. But you don’t look the type. So, who are you?

No, you’re different. You’re not here for the cheap coffee and bland conversations between checking records, you’re here for the job. I can see it in the way you scan over every file individually on that screen. You’re an intelligent creature, aren’t you? Investigative, a sleuth if you will.

You don’t look upset about your position even though you clearly deserve better, you look at peace with it. Something’s stressing you outside of your work and you want, no, need, an easy occupation to work through.

You’re not like anyone I’ve seen before, and for some reason I’m drawn to you. More than I’ve ever been to anyone. I’ve only just seen you and now I want to know more.

You’re not trying to look good while you’re here, but you also don’t want to look unkept. Your hair’s just slightly messed up, you’ve been working hard today. There’s pen ink staining your pointer finger so you clearly proofread your notes too much. An overthinker. You take pride in your work. No you’re not looking for attention, but you’d like a bit. I can tell from your choice of jewellery, the little decisions you made on smaller details.

A single silver chain necklace with a lily hanging from it. Just like that ring on your middle finger, that delicate one with a band filled with the phases of the moon. Environmentally attracted. Not enough to weigh down your outfit, but enough to catch the eye of someone looking a little closer. Someone like me.

From your foot out to the side I can see your favour in self expression. You’re not wearing some tacky skirt up at your thighs hoping some braindead dickhead will try to sneak a look at your panties and ask you out on a date. You’re in jeans that fit you snug enough to be comfortable, but also just enough to let the imagination wander if someone really wanted it to.

And I think I want it to. Plus you’re pairing it off with some fun socks that you clearly wear just for yourself. You still want it to be you under the faded green screen light of the monitor.

The best part in all of this is you’re not twirling your hair and staring at me like I owe you something. Like I’m nothing but meat to you. I mean you haven’t even realised I’m here yet. And then you’re looking at me, through me.

Hello, you.

“Hey, you need anything?” Only for you to keep looking at me like that. I think I could actually die happy if I were looking at that face as it all came to an end. I’d get pummelled by monsters all over again if it were to save you. “Yeah, uh, Brooks sent me down here to grab some intel we got.” And you give me a smirk. Not out of snark or cruelty, but because you’re now hooked on my works. You want to know what I need. You’re a giver. I can tell. “You gonna tell me who on or do you want to search the database yourself for the next three hours?” You’re funny. You’re genuinely funny and that smirk seems to grow into a proper grin when you see my own smile form. I told you, you’re a giver. I know you already and we’ve barely said a word to each other.

It’s a clear sign there’s something here.

“As fun as that sounds, I think that’s more your specialty. Mikaela Reid, if it hopefully doesn’t take three hours.” Now your smirk is cocky. Brighter, a touch of mischief. You're mischievious. You know I know you love your work and you’re not even questioning. Because thanks to the years of training you instantly know I’m good at reading people. What you don’t know is I’m reading deeper into you than I ever have with anything else. Your fingernails are cut clean, and you type like you’ve been doing this for years. You’re so focused, those teeth biting into your lips as you scan through file after file. It must be a habit, because now I’m noticing a crease in those lips from how often you’ve done it. “Looks like we got a report in a day ago, is this who you’re looking for?” You give me this look. One that’s an invite, an invite for me to walk between your cluttered desk and the empty one next to you stacked with files people obviously expect you to get done for them to slide up behind you. And I will gladly take that invitation.

I wonder just how obvious it is that I’m not looking at this bioterrorist too closely when I lean over your shoulder, I’m too busy looking at you. You know you’re amazing from afar but up close like this you’re nothing short of breathtaking. Just the way you exist takes my breath away. “Yep, that’s her. Recognize that scar over the neck.” “Says she got taken into custody a few hours ago, I can send this through to your personal database if you want to look into it further. Maybe do your own detective work?” Your voice is so soft. Just the way you talk has me enthralled. How every syllable seems to fall so perfectly into place, how you pace out your nouns and adjectives. You make me love English. You make me love words.

“I’d appreciate it.” “Well if the Leon Kennedy appreciates it, it must be worth it.” Don’t say my name like that. Like it means something. Like you have to please me or praise me to get something.

You already have me and I don’t even know your name. “Well it’s definitely worth it if it means I get to talk to the…” It’s a subtlety, a hint I’m dropping that I really really hope you’ll catch. Either that or I sound like an idiot. “The Y/N L/N, hidden treasure of the DSO.” And you’re sarcastic too. Funny, smart, sarcastic, drop dead gorgeous.

Even if you said it as if it were a lie you really are a hidden treasure, Y/N. I’m already ready to drop down onto one knee. I’ve got your name now, and looking at your face it really does suit you. I mean sure I knew it already from your name badge, but some people just use the spare ones from the old break room to avoid the board breathing down their neck. But you didn’t do that, you were sincere. I’m sure your face will suit our kids, too.

“You must be, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here.” I hope that was the right thing to say. Maybe I was too forward, or rude. God, how long have you worked here? Did I just fuck this up? But you laugh at it, just a touch. Enough to make your chest bounce, and as perverted as that may seem it wasn’t because I was staring at it. I’m just staring at all of you in hopes of not getting caught. “Yeah well people like you don’t usually come down here. It’s usually Helena, or- or some intern Hunnigan shoots over.”

Christ, people like me? Is that how you see me? Some stuck up broad who only focuses on the missions, who works just to get more work done? Someone whose status is more than them as a person? You’re killing me over here, Y/N. Let me take you out to dinner, show you who I am behind the jobline. Treat you how you should be treated. And you’re talking again. “But no, I’ve only been working here a few months.”

Long enough to hear about me, though. And to make me feel better about not recognising you. That won’t happen again. I’m studying every feature like it’s notes before my next mission. You’re my next mission. You're something special. You've got the DSO's pride and joy eating right out of the palm of your dainty little hand.

And frankly I'm loving every second of it. “You seem to pick up the slack well for someone so new.” “Well, I’m flattered.”

Of course you are. Because no one has taken the time to appreciate you and the work you put in despite being hidden in a dark corner of the workplace. I could do that for you. “And for good reason. Well, hidden treasure, I’ll let you get back to your work." "Thank you kindly." Even more sass, god you're a catch. "I look forward to your contribution to my detective work.” You give me that smile one last time and I’m already signing the court papers. I would marry you in a shitty community church if it meant seeing that smile daily.

You’re smart, I know that. I can tell by how you keep eye contact with me before I turn to leave the room. But not that smart. Not smart enough to hear your phone hit the carpet as you exit the building, listening to some type of music over an old mp3 player through cheap earbuds. Maybe you like it classic. I’ll get you better ones soon, I swear. It’s even better that you’re distracted and you leave late, later than everyone else so you can’t see me follow in your steps a few seconds later to take your phone. I’ll return it, trust me I will.

Just once I know what I need to know.

Smart, but not smart enough to password protect your phone. God, after working through encrypted files and protected records for months how can you not password protect your phone, Y/N? What if some creep had found it? Some animal who’d use this information to find you? To hurt you? I mean if anything it’s lucky I’m the one who has it.

There’s the usual things in here. Photos with a friend group, nights out where you’re obviously forcing a smile. You want to enjoy yourself, hell you’re trying to, but that crease next to your lips is giving it all away. I’m not just some guy, you know. I’ve worked with this type of evidence before, I know how to connect the dots. I can tell when something’s forced. A few photos of sales you’ve been looking at, mostly clothes. Don’t get me wrong I love your style but you shouldn’t be trying to bankrupt yourself like this. I could get these for you, y’know. It’s hardly any cash out of my wallet. Which is why I can’t understand why you won’t take a better paying division. I know it’s for the peace of mind, but you look like you’re living meal to meal on frozen food. They’re taking advantage of you, the DSO always does that to the ones with a good heart. You’re just too much of a giver to say anything.

Don’t worry, Y/N. When we’re together you can stay in your cozy corner of the office without worrying about money problems. I’ll take care of you.

No dating apps in sight but you do have social media, nothing too serious though. A few posts of mental motivation or maybe a photo or two where you felt pretty. Pretty enough to post, anyway. Enough to milk a few likes from some a-holes scrolling through their feed who get hard when a girl in makeup shows off their bare shoulder in a certain way.

C’mon, we both know you’re better than that. At least you do it in a beautiful, artistic way. One where your makeup is natural or you’re wearing none at all, you on veranda chairs as a silhouette against a sunset or standing in the rain. There’s a genuine smile in that one. You looked like you liked the rain, I should’ve trusted my instinct.

Then there’s your messages app, which almost has me cringing. Especially your messages between your friends, that groupchat is the worst of it. You just constantly seem on the edge of throwing yourself into the abyss. I can’t say I blame you. Just reading their responses is ready to give me a migraine.

But then there’s a guy. This person that’s sending you updates on his day and photos of him shirtless in bed. And the worst part is you’re responding to him with your own messages. With your own pictures. More tasteful, of course. A big comfy shirt, it suits you. But you’re being nice to him. Too nice to be just friends.

Who the fuck is this, Y/N?

[summerofsmiles]

HOW DO YOU PEOPLE KNOW WHAT YEAR A PICTURE IS TAKEN JUST BY LOOKING AT IT? You Led Zeppelin fandom ppl scare me in the best possible way

HAHA don’t worry I too thought this at some point. But here’s an easy cheat sheet so you too can flawlessly date Led Zeppelin photos and scare your friends!

Now of course, I’m an amateur at this. There are people in this fandom who have a literal encyclopedic knowledge on every little detail so they’re probably better to ask, but mostly how I can the year is using the following indicators.

- the easiest one is Jimmy’s stage clothes. The black dragon suit is 75 and the poppy suit is 77. The black astrology suit with the silver embellishments is 73. Knebworth is the blue button down and in 80, everyone wore really casual clothes and he often matched with Robert. ‘68-69 is a lot of frilly Victorian dandy/princess clothes. Lots of pink and crushed velvet and white ruffles. He also dressed like he was colorblind in this era. The general vibe seemed to be “anything goes, as long as the piece is unique.” When he had the beard after May ‘70, he really embraced the homeless fisherman aesthetic and had a lot of those outfits, coupled with a rather unfortunate bucket hat.

- Jimmy’s weight and overall health is also a super easy indicator of the year. If Jimmy’s weight inspires thoughts along the lines of “wow that guy is really small, he looks like he naturally has a very slight build” then it’s probably 68-70. From 70-73 he has grown up a bit and looks it, but also looks very normal for Jimmy. He looks like he is at the weight that your average Jimmy should be at. By 75, his naturally chubby face has slimmed out a little just as effects of getting older and he looks slimmer, but still healthy. As the tour progresses he does look thinner, but nothing that makes you go, “holy shit is he okay?” If the picture inspires thoughts of “omg why is he on stage and not in a hospital?” Then it’s probably 1977. By this time his ribs are usually visible when he’s playing and his chest is literally concave in some pictures. His face also looks very haggard in most of the pictures and he has lost all the baby fat on his face, making him look mature but also a little gaunt. 79-80 his face looks permanently exhausted and he doesn’t play shirtless anymore, so you can’t see his ribby chest, but his arms look like a firm handshake could snap them.

Here’s Jimmy with some snappable arms.

-Jimmy’s various hair eras are also easy indicators of the year. In 1968, Jimmy wore his natural hair often (or at least smth close to his natural hair, god knows what his real hair looks like after the 60s crimping and the ‘70s curling and the ‘80s perming and the ‘90s weird short haircut era and the 2000s dying) so it was often a frizzy mess (affectionate) that’s just a around past his chin to his shoulders. It did grow out into long Princess waves eventually. 70-71 was short hair with the beard, 73 was the mullet, and 75 was longer, tight ringlets that fell just past his shoulder. 77 was slightly shorter with bangs over his forehead, and 79-80 was shorter, just past his chin, still tightly curled.

- Robert’s appearance is also an easy indicator of year. He also finally grew into looking like a man in 75, so 75- 77 Robert has a lot more mature face. ‘75 Robert still has a bit of childishness is his face, while by 77, he has fully grown into his adult looks. 70-73 Robert has a bit of a baby face, and 68-69 Robert has an extreme baby face with the shorter hair

Picture because he was absolutely adorable in this era

Anyway, in 79+ he really started to look like an adult. He started to grow into the broad build he has now and cut his hair short and fluffy again. Outfit wise, he had a thing for wearing a lot of black in the earlier years. 70-71 was also the era of that beautiful musketeer facial hair which made him look like something out of a fairy tale. Robert’s stage outfits are always harder to use to discern the year, but a lot of his signature flowery, open chested blouses that you equate with Robert are from 75. Basically the Robert cheat sheet is: Short and fluffy hair with baby face is 68-70, long hair with facial hair and baby face 70-71 (he did have periods of not having the facial hair I.e the Japan Tour, which is long curls + baby face). 75 is no baby face and long curls and 77 is adult face with long hair. 79-80 is short fluffy hair with adult face.

- the stage setup is also a good indicator. Tiny bars and clubs is either 68-69 or the back to the clubs tour, depending on how grown up they look. The big laser show is 75

- for Jonesy, his pornstache is during Led Zeppelin’s unfortunate facial hair era so 1970-1971 (he didn’t go to Bron-Yr-Aur so idk what his excuse is, but he also makes the facial hair work, so it can be forgiven). His hair was shorter in 1973 and he had bangs. By 1975, he had a short haircut with lovely fluffy hair and sideburns. This is also when he grew into an adult face. You could see it a bit in 73, but 75 is when he starts looking like an adult. 77 was the gorgeous fluffy looking long hair with what looks like grown out curtain bangs lol. I’m not sure what it is but he looks great doing it. Knebworth is obviously that beautiful white suit, and longer hair and bangs.

Here’s my favorite Jonesy photo just because I like it

- Bonzo just looks like Bonzo all the time. I really don’t know what to say lol. He was at peak bear 77 onwards though.

But overall, for me, outfits and appearances are the best indicators. Sorry about the long response and thanks for the ask!

[pen-observing]

request: how lucifer, mammon, satan, belphegor and diavolo react and find out about you having 'I now own your soul' under the terms and conditions of a webpage.

Lucifer:

While Lucifer is certainly busy all the time, and tries to balance it by having you in his study as he works, he can’t hide how tired he has actually been for the past 4 weeks.

All you know is that Diavolo has made the meetings more frequent and they are taking a toll on him

And since he means that much to you, regardless of if you wish to acknowledge it or not, you have to ask what is going on once he stands up and walks over to reach for another bottle from his shelf Lucifer does not drink that often and he certainly doesn’t try to avoid work by drinking.

Just what could be making him act this way?

“Lucifer, you have to tell me what is going on.”

He stands on his side of the desk just pouring another glass down.

Curse him for being elegant and showing his forearms while doing so!

And then he dares to look at you with full focus and furrowed eyebrows and he is about to say something and he looks like-

‘no. You are human.’

Fuck.

“Come on! You know I won’t tell anyone!”

He does trust you at least after so long.

"Very well. I will tell you since it has something to do with a human. If, by any chance, you spread the information, the price you pay will be a heavy one."

He can’t intimidate you that much but you know when he is serious.

"You see, recently, Diavolo has had more issues than ever with someone we like to call ‘code soul stealer"

“Uhn,, and that is?”

He takes a sip of his drink and holds the glass while looking at you.

“Apparently, a pesky human added ‘I now own your soul’ in their terms and conditions on a web page and some application. With this, they have stolen many souls and Diavolo has grown even more concerned these past few weeks since the page is just gaining popularity.”

Oh fuck, oh fuck. Thats you that he is calling a pesky human! You only did it as a joke because you saw a meme! It wasn’t supposed to make an enemy out of you to the prince of hell!

How are you supposed to tell Lucifer that? How will he react?

Maybe if you do tell him it will actually create more good than harm?

Or, you could hide it for the rest of your life and- no! The honest way with Lucifer is the best way. He trusts you enough so you have to trust him too!

“Lucifer...I am the pesky human you are referring to...”

He drops the glass. 

“I swear I had no idea souls were actually real and now I own a lot of them! O-On the good side I went viral 4 weeks ago so...oh, that is why you’ve been so busy....sorry.”

Lucifer says nothing.

He just falls into the chair in the most dramatic way you’ve ever seen.

He covers his face with both hands and groans into them loudly.

If you were not ‘code soul stealer’ you would laugh at him right now. But he has to figure out a way to protect you now.

Mammon:

You see, dating Mammon means that you two will bicker plenty.

However, it is usually silly stuff that you bicker about like; are gold or silver lines better on this cup of tea or not?

He just loves you too much to get into a serious argument with you.

However, Levi dragged you both to play a spy/heist game that just came out and Mammon cannot accept to lose such a challenge.

He is not proud that people call him thief, but he is proud and believes he has the skills to back up his many enrichment-plans

So the fact that you won against him for 3 times in a row is UNNACCEPTABLE under this dark, dark sky.

Mammon denies it all. ‘i went easy on you’; ‘I did it cuz you are happy when you win’ and ‘please, don’t you know who I am? I am THE Mammon!”

And while he is cute while bickering, sometimes it becomes unbearable.

So, you do what any normal human would: you challenge him by listing your biggest ‘heist’ ever.

“You don’t know who you are talking to! I have created a heist unlike any other! I have stolen a million souls so far! The DevilTV refers to me as – unstoppable soul collector!”

Levi left long ago so Mammon is standing there completely stunned with the stupidest look on his face so far. He kind of looks like a blowfish.

Still, he runs and puts a hand over your mouth and whispers:

“Don’t yell! We don’t want others to know that we run that business!”

Excuse him? Who is this –we- he speaks of?

“You will add your boyfriend to those plans, won’t you?”

Mammon will not let shock stand in the way of money or souls. You can explain to him how you managed that later but for now – just add him as your accomplice.

Satan:

You love your boyfriend.

You really, really do.

You love seeing him so excited and focused on finding clues to the newest Devildom mystery that you chose to let him have his fun by not telling him YOU were the one he was searching for.

And while you love him that much, you are about to ruin the whole game.

Why does he think it is appropriate to own 48 pairs of the same Sherlock Holmes outfit with THE UGLIEST MATCHING HATS YOU HAVE EVER LAID YOUR EYES ON.

First, he wore them in his ‘detective office’ only. Also known as the Lamentation house storage room for cleaning products. And that was fine, it was.

But then he started to wear them inside the house and in the garden. The saddest day was when a cat knocked the ugly hat off and ran away with it. Oh praise that cat! Praise the little paws!

However, he has gone too far.

He knows no bounds and shows no signs of stopping.

He started wearing the outfits OUTSIDE! In the middle of cobblestone paths of the main street while you were trying to have a nice date!

"Who knows where the soul snatching culprit could be hiding? I must wear this outfit everywhere to catch their clues. Trust me.”

That is it.

If one more iguana-looking-ass demon points their finger at you two and snickers as you walk past – he will have a rude wake up call.

How is it possible that he is trying to catch the culprit that is you but doesn’t pay any attention to you?

So, when you arrive home and he walks into the mop closet to add another unrelated photo to his crazy whiteboard as a clue – you tell him to sit down for a moment.

“Satan, honey, I have something to tell you about your soul snatching culprit.”

That definitely got his attention.

Finally! He is actually looking at you!

You lean down and gently kiss his head.

“I am the culprit you’re looking for. How does it feel to completely miss something right under your nose?”

He freezes up and throws a pen towards the whiteboard. It just bounces off and hits him in the back.

“You....you mean to tell me that,,, the biggest Devil Mystery TV phenomenon is ACTUALLY YOU?”

You are met with complete disbelief. Satan demands a detailed explanation on how you did it. He even tells you to use his whiteboard to retrace your steps!

...good luck...

Belphegor:

Will Belphegor ever actually publicly say that he has changed because of you? No.

Will he ever actually admit that to other brothers besides Beel when they’re talking in the late hours of the night in their room? Oh, absolutely not.

Will he tell you? Yes.

Yes but.. He will leave something out.

Sometimes Belphie looks at how you smile and remembers things that make him famous in this realm.

Yes, he is one of the most powerful demons and yes, he has a reputation of rebellion and the biggest steak of unattendance in RAD but

He is also a fairly famous scholar.

His papers and research are cited on the regular.

But when you smile and say a witty joke – he remembers that most of them focus around him proving just how dumb or naïve humans actually are.

But, you’re human and he hopes that you never see those.

Except that you do.

Because he is so famous it is no surprise that while looking for research papers to reference for your next assignment you saw his name while browsing through

And while you love him - you will not allow him to just diss the whole mankind.

So, you grab one of them from the library. Walk home, go to the attic while he is napping and open it up, putting it right on his face.

It takes a couple of seconds but he feels something is wrong and his hand reaches for it.

When he pulls it away, he is met with his thesis that was further developed from the seduction speech class assignment.

It sets it up as: ‘Seduction speech as a matter of blatant deception that humans always fall for but could never recreate.’

You are not even that mad at it to be honest.

But proving him wrong is always fun. And little does he know about your biggest secret ever.

“I will cut right to the chase and say – fix your bangs I want to see the way your eyes look when I tell you this!”

“I wonder who messed up my bangs with the academic paper in the first place?” is what he replies but his hand is already on his forehead.

“Whatever. Prepare to be amazed! I am the one the elders of the devildom are always ranting about on TV! Yes, I am the ‘pesky little human’ who is stealing away ‘edible’ souls! How is that for your thesis now? Is that not true deception?!”

He likes your smile still. You’re standing in front of the bed looking at him with sparkling eyes and clenched fists while striking a pose. It is silly really but he smiles.

Because you are.

And while he will ask you a bit more about that claim, he is just happy to know that maybe his next academic paper (which everyone eagerly awaits) will be tad more positive to your kind.

Diavolo:

You got an urgent call from Barbatos.

On the doorstep he told you that Diavolo needs you in his study.

What could you do that Barbatos can’t and will help Diavolo? Does such a thing even exist?

You walk inside of his office and are pretty sure Barbatos did not want to go inside because of the fact that a rat could be hiding under the mountain of papers that are all around the room.

Usually, Diavolo immediately stands up, lights up the room with his smile and stretches out his hands for a hug.

Now? He hears the doors open and looks at you with a weak smile while his head is resting on his elbows from behind the desk.

He has never looked worse.

“Barbatos said you called for me?”

You are unsure where to begin with this so you state a fact while thinking of questions to ask.

“He has? I have done no such thing?”

Great. Now both of you are confused.

“Can you tell me what is going on?”

Diavolo sighs and his smile is still nowhere to be seen.

“The elders have been so annoying lately. I understand that the biggest threat to the Devildom and everyone’s life here still has not been identified but there is nothing I can do except search!”

Just what threat is that? What could be making Diavolo so miserable?

“They keep comparing me to my father without actually offering any ways of fixing this!”

“I will try to offer some way if you tell me what the threat is!”

There you are, making a grand exclamation and promise while trying to avoid papers on the floor. Diavolo sighs again.

“A human is ruining our business! They somehow set up a page that allowed them to own souls by consent in some application under the terms and conditions. I mean, this has never happened before! Humans were never expected to think of that or have access to such means! And the name they used was fake. How am I supposed to find them and then burn them in the darkest pits of hell as the elders want me to?”

You stop trying to avoid the papers.

Did...did he just say darkest pits of hell? Did he just say the elders want YOU burned?!

How are you supposed to fix this? It was a fucking joke! You did not imagine this could ever happen!

“Diavolo you promised you would protect me no matter what, right?”

His eyes are serious when you say that. “Yes. I will. Is something amiss?”

“Diavolo.... I am the enemy your elders want to burn.. PLEASE DON’T LET THEM! MY SKIN JUST ADJUSTED TO THIS TEMPERATURE!”

Diavolo looks at you and laughs like never before. It is cute, it is childlike. His laugh finally lights up the room.

He thinks you are joking.

He thinks you are joking and abruptly stops once he realizes that you did not join in on the laugh.

You were just trying to crack a joke and make him feel better, right? There is no way that is true, right? But judging from your reaction he knows it is.

So, he grows serious once more.

He runs to embrace you.

“Please tell me you are willing to make a compromise because the elders do not care about how your skin adjusts to the temperature.”

[sauroff]

in the actual series, in motion, the outfits and sets of ROP are actually incredibly beautiful. It's only when pedantic, incompetent tumblr users freeze-frame various weird angles and split-second transition shots that they can be made to look weird. It's the same logic that wretched youtubers use to complain about She-hulk looking weird by focusing obsessively on single frames of CGI with no consideration for motion and lighting, just without the underlying misogyny. It's really just the lowest tier of movie "criticism"

Hi Anon! Ok, look. I'm not so with you on this one. I DO consider that making a whole thing about those scales or any small details is silly (specially with how terrible last episode was). But I do think that the costume design in this show is bad in many aspects, which I'll expand below.

I have read people saying the outfits are ugly or look cheap. I don't agree. The costumes are gorgeous, and very well done. I love how natural they look, like they are actually worn, and not just a recently washed and ironed costume. I definitely don't think that a practical decision like the one on that post (printing the scales that show a little bit ON THE ARMPIT) is a bad one. BUT, the designs as designs suck. I'm not even talking about stylism (or however the part about the make up and hair is called, I always mess up that term), which is another problem entirely. I'm talking about how little each outfit tell us about the character wearing them. This is mostly for the elves, but also some humans (not Nmenor. Numenor looks great so far, even if the armors aren't my style). The feanorians stars (I guess they are Earendil's star now) in everything was a problem from the start. Then we have Celebrimbor's outfit, which, besides the small holly leaves on the sleeves, doesn't say a single fucking thing about this character. How are we supposed to pick up that he is a smith from that? a lord? We get nothing. ROP's Gil-Galad seems to have a bad relationship with dwarves, yet he is covered in dwarven looking runes all over??? And again, I like his clothes, they look gorgeous. But why all the gold? isn't silver more precious to elves? Doesn't his name mean something like radiant star? I love the whole blue-green & golden yellow palette for the elves, I love the photography of each scene in Lindon. But when it comes to protagonists, the costumes should be more about them and less about fitting the scenary (althought that is a very imporart part of the design too, yes). And I will avoid talking about the veiled ladies. At first I thought it was nice, but after seeing how they seem to be there only to be like faceless servants, now I think it's awfully sexist. The dwarves have some great designs, but they lack uniformity. You have some mix of roman and art noveau influences that look gorgeous, and then there are some dwarves like that lady with the helmet that has an armor with pointy boobs that looks like a viking caricature. It's weird. Numenor is nice because there is uniformity in them, a very nice color palette that fits and themes that are repeated (maybe too much) in everyone. Those and the Hardfoots are the only designs I fully love.

These are small things, but that's costume design, at least for me. The Hobbit's costume design for me is genius (and I'm offended that LotR won an oscar for it's design while The Hobbit was only nominated like once). I love its design in general (the whole stylism and creature designs too), but the costumes in particular are VERY detailed, with every dwarf having it's own geometric pattern repeated in different ways on their clothes. That's beautiful. I shared that post because I'm actually surprised to know that this is the same costume designer as Crimson Peak. I feel like there is probably diffent teams in charge of the designs of different parts of it, and because of the times and the colosal size of the project, some sacrifices were made, and not all the areas got the same careful selection. I don't think the head designer is bad, or any of the designers working on it for that matter. I feel like the persons making the choices, who are usually the ones that know nothing about design (and I'm saying this as a designer), fucked up a lot. And the designers must have been really frustrated, and probably overworked.

[alcinadimitrescuwu]

The Night Before (An Alcina x Reader Fanfic)

Warnings: NSFW

You are trying to go about your daily tasks in Castle Dimitrescu but are finding it very hard to focus. It could be the fact that spring has finally arrived in Romania, the birds chirping, the sun beaming down from the heavens, the snow finally melting away to make way for new life teeming from the earth.

It could also be the fact that your wedding to Alcina Dimitrescu, the love of your life and the Lady of the Castle is tomorrow.

The housekeeper turns in your direction and gives you a pointed look. “Are you going to stand there all day away with the fairies, dearie, or are you going to polish those candelabras like I asked?”

You immediately snap back to reality. “Of course! Sorry, Mrs. Fischer.”

Mrs. Fischer shakes her head, clucking to herself. “Tomorrow you may be the Lady Consort, but today you are still a maid and you have your duties to perform.” She inspects you over the half-moon spectacles perched over her nose. “Now I expect you to polish those candelabras until they sparkle!”

“Right away, Mrs. Fischer.” You turn and set to work on your polishing.

“Oh, and Y/N?” Mrs. Fischer calls over her shoulder.

“Yes, Mrs. Fischer?”

She gives you a conspiratorial wink. “Congratulations, dearie.”

You can’t help but be shocked. Mrs. Fischer never gave out compliments or congratulations freely. You only knew you were doing a job correctly if she wasn't constantly checking up on you to make sure you didn’t mess anything up. You start to get emotional in spite of yourself. You may have started out working at Castle Dimitrescu as extra income for your aging parents, but there had always been something satisfying about taking care of a large house. You didn’t even mind the extra hours that you put in saving up for your engagement ring to Alcina, which had turned even more beautiful than you could have imagined.

Alcina had put her foot down about you staying on in your job once the two of you got married, however. “Darling, after our vows, you’ll be a part of this house. Your place will be with our family, not working for it,” she had said, taking your chin in her hand and stroking your cheek.

You finally agreed and she smiled indulgently at you as you asked to work just one last day, for old time’s sake. “Of course, draga mea,” she said, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “If that is what you wish.”

A sudden crash breaks you from your reverie and you smile as you see one of the parlor maids, Constanza, making her way over to you with a sheepish grin on her face after picking up the tray she had dropped on the floor. Constanza was a lovely young woman with auburn hair and blue eyes, perfect for a parlor maid. Unfortunately, she was also very accident-prone. She finally comes to a stop in front of you with a silver tray. On the tray is a single envelope sealed in wax with the Dimitrescu family crest.

“Good morning Y/N!” Constanza says brightly. Then thinking better of it she tries, “Er, good morning Miss -no, Lady Consort- wait you’re not Lady Consort yet-”

You stop her before she can continue her babbling and put a placating hand on her arm. “Constanza, you’ve been working here as long as I have. You can still be familiar with me if you want to.”

Constanza breathes a sigh of relief and breaks out into a grin. “So the big day’s tomorrow! Are you excited?”

Yes, you were excited. And nervous. And terrified as all hell. But you give her a smile as you say, “Yes, Connie I am. Alcina and I have been waiting for this day a long time.” It still felt weird to say Alcina’s given name out loud and not in private like when you were first courting.

Then your attention turns to the sealed envelope on the tray Constanza is holding. “Is that for me?” you prompt.

Constanza’s face suddenly turns a lovely shade of puce and her blue eyes grow wide behind their spectacles. “Er- yes, the Lady herself gave it to me with, er, very specific instructions to tell you to not look at it until you’re alone in your room. At night. She said she would give you a call when she wants you to open it.”

You feel your own cheeks start to burn as you take the envelope off the tray. “Thank you, Constanza, I’ll just take this back to my room for now.”

Constanza gives you a nod and turns to leave. Suddenly she turns around and gives you a brief curtsy. You suddenly notice all the other servants of the house staring at you and you feel a pang of sadness as you realize you won’t be able to interact with them as freely as you normally could. You’ll be in your own separate worlds.

Without a word you head back to your room, the envelope clutched in your hand. Night cannot come soon enough.

***

After what seems like eons, night has finally fallen on House Dimitrescu. You’re alone in your bedroom pacing back and forth like a caged animal. You’re not used to sleeping alone as for the past couple of months you had been sharing your bed with Alcina in her bedchambers. However, Alcina’s daughters- no, your daughters too, soon- had insisted that it would be bad luck for the two of you to see each other before the wedding. It had taken you aback as you hadn’t considered the girls to be traditional, but they were insistent and after some protesting, Alcina had finally relented.

Still it wasn’t easy. You hadn’t seen Alcina all day since you had left her side this morning. You had heard her talking with the Duke outside earlier discussing last minute wedding arrangements, her elegant velvety voice carrying through the entrance hall. You had longed to run over and put your arms around her, burying your face in the curve of her hip, but you held yourself back out of respect for your future daughters’ wishes.

The phone begins to ring loudly in your bedroom and with your heart already pounding, you pick it up off the hook and hold the receiver to your ear. “Yes?”

“Draga mea?” Your heart skips a beat as you hear your fiancee's voice on the other line. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” you say, holding the receiver closer to your ear.

“Did you receive the envelope I addressed to you this morning?”

“Yes,” you say. The envelope is on a nearby table with your name on it in Alcina’s beautiful cursive handwriting with a letter opener nearby, ready for opening. “Can I open it now?”

“Not so fast, pet,” Alcina’s voice takes on a teasing quality. “You didn’t look at the contents inside did you?”

“No.” But you were certainly tempted throughout the day to sneak a peek. You held firm, though, knowing that even after all the waiting it would be worth it.

“Good girl,” Alcina purrs on the other line. “You’ve been so very patient and that ought to be rewarded. But first, tell me, what are you wearing right now?”

Immediately you wished you had put on sexier clothes than just your nightgown. Oh well. You have to deal with what you got. “Just my nightgown. Nothing fancy, I’m afraid.”

“Oh? Is it the one with the ribbon in the front?”

“Yes,” you say looking down at your nightgown. There is indeed a ribbon in the front. You remember when it’s unfastened that it reveals more of your cleavage. Your outfit choice might not have been so bad after all.

You can tell that Alcina is recalling the exact same thing as she says, “Loosen up the ribbon for me, dear, would you?”

You loosen up the ribbon and the nightgown slips off your shoulders slightly. You’re finding breathing normally difficult. You feel a slight pinch as you feel your nipples grow hard at the sound of Alcina’s husky voice.

Alcina chuckles. “All right, dear, I’ll stop torturing you. You may open the envelope now.”

You practically lunge over to the table to slice open the envelope. Inside are a bunch of photographs taken with a vintage style camera. As you take out the first one you see that Alcina is featured on it and you suspect that the rest all show her as well.

“Now, pet,” Alcina purrs. “Tell me exactly what you see in the first picture.”

You hold the picture in your hand to the light to get a better look. “You’re sitting in front of your mirror. Your hair is down and your hat is off. You’re, um, wearing a black peignoir and brushing your hair. It’s all, uh, very tasteful.”

Alcina lets out a laugh like tinkling bells. “Oh, rest assured, darling, the rest of the pictures will become progressively less tasteful.”

Your mouth runs dry and you feel your palms have grown sweaty. You wipe them on your nightgown before continuing.

You take out the second picture. “Just like before, pet. Describe it to me and leave no detail out.”

You clear your throat. “You’re standing before the window and smoking. You’ve cast off your peignoir and are wearing a red and black lingerie set. The bustier is black and your garter is clipped to red stockings, the exact shade of your lipstick.” You swallow before continuing. “You look stunning.”

She lets out a girlish giggle at that. “Thank you, darling. Speaking of garters, how about you unhook yours?”

With shaking hands you unhook your garter belt and peel down your stockings. You push the skirt of your nightgown up a little bit, but you know to wait until Alcina gives you further instructions.

Onto the next one then. You take it out and you suddenly find your mouth moving but no words coming out.

“Dearest?” Alcina prompts. “The next photo?”

“Um,” you stammer. “Your back is turned to the camera now and er, the back is very um, sheer.” The back indeed is very sheer with only a thin layer of lace covering the curve of her hips. You feel your core growing hot with desire. You feel your arousal drip down your bare leg.

“You sound a tad overwhelmed, darling,” Alcina purrs. “If you need to take some time for yourself you may do so now.”

Now that she had given you express permission you glide your hand up your skirt and slip it into your already dripping cunt. You let out a soft gasp as you feel your fingers move inside you. It’s not the same feeling as when Alcina’s fingers are inside you, but at this point anything will do. You can hardly wait for your wedding night. You try to maintain the pace she usually uses.

“There, pet,” Alcina is panting now too on the other line. “Just like that. Now the next picture, please.”

Alcina’s moans from the other line are driving you to distraction but you hold the phone against your shoulder while you use the other hand that is not in your core to pick up the next photo.

“You know what to do, now, draga mea,” Alcina gasps out.

The last photo nearly takes you out. You feel your climax building as you describe it to Alcina. She is sitting at the foot of the bed, her lingerie set on the floor, her legs open. You take in her full breasts and the soft black down that covers her nethers. One of her arms is extended and you see her muscles rippling in her shoulders as she beckons you teasingly to the bed.

You cry out her name as you orgasm and you lean your head against the table, spent. “Good girl,” Alcina purrs, still riding out her own climax. “That was but a foretaste of what our wedding night will be. I do hope you’re prepared, dear.”

“Yes,” you practically squeak.

“Good to hear,” Alcina chortles. “Well, I suppose we ought to get our rest before tomorrow. I’ll see you in the morning, my bride.”

You blush scarlet at Alcina calling you her bride. You could definitely get used to that. You have something prepared too. “Alcina?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“Te iubesc, draga mea.”

You can almost see Alcina’s beautiful face break out into a grin, her eyes crinkling in the corners, cheeks dimpling. “Your pronunciation has much improved, dearest. Very well done. And I love you too, darling. Noapte bună.”

You fasten back up your nightgown and head over to the bed. You are not the least bit surprised when you find you can’t sleep. There is simply so much to be excited about.

[ryttu3k]

Doctor Who - The Power of the Doctor: so that happened! Initial reaction post, and will be diving into the tags in a little bit, so, uh, blacklist as necessary. Will be using ‘dw spoilers’.

Storywise, very busy, definitely needed the full hour and a half because just an hour would have made it a rushed mess, would probably put it at a 4/5. Continuity-wise, holy shit 5/5. I goddamn adore Tegan and Ace I goddamn loved seeing them together I goddamn loved their reaction to the Doctor being a combination of *awkward staring* and *awkward staring because wtf the Doctor got hot*.

The older Doctors at the edge - goddamn perfect. Eight being a rebel and not wearing a robe you do you bby. And the holograms!! I 100% cried at the Tegan-Five and Ace-Seven conversations and I bet the actors were feeling some kinda way too. Goddamn. The mention of Adric, the "Brave heart!", the Nitro-9 conversation, "We're more than good. We're Ace!". Also the banter between the Master and the companions - Aunt Vanessa, the half-cat thing, the Brigadier and his family are still causing problems and He Took That Personally... good times.

Other comments, more or less in chronological order, reading the Guardian recap mostly:

Regenerating Cybermen still remain one of the freakiest things I've ever seen. It's just so wrong.

Picked that Dan was going to leave as soon as I saw the hole in his helmet :( It reminds me of that MASH episode where Charles is nearly shot and is just staring at the hole in his hat, actually. Different response, but still very much this immediate change in priorities.

Both Tegan and Ace have definitely shared horror stories about Cybermen. Still, Silver Nemesis was still less traumatic than Earthshock, probably. Poor Tegan.

UNIT is not going anywhere! Take that, Brexit.

"How did you even escape from Gallifrey?" "Magnificent attention to detail!" Really, Doctor, he's the Eternal Cockroach (affectionate), you know this.

scuse me where is the Master's room service. Rood.

Ashad continues to be scary as fuck. Sad he presumably got blown up because a partial Cyberman who is actively sadistic is a hell of an opponent.

Dressing for the occasion... *HEAVY SIGH*

Got Boney M's Rasputin stuck in my head as soon as I saw the guy. Lost my shit when they actually played it. Goddamn perfect. I love that chaotic little shit.

Holy shit apparently that's not just a replica, that is the actual 1989 costume jacket and Sophie Aldred has kept it all this time! Like I loved how she still had some music pins even on her fancy suit jacket, but this was the Jacket!!

That is the most hilariously gremlin outfit I've ever seen. Let's see: Thirteen's coat, Ten's tie, Seven's vest, Five's celery, Four's scarf, and Two's recorder.

Seven and Eight bickering over the outfits <3

Hmm, some continuity with Tegan's past - no mention of Nyssa? Maybe she didn't know if Kate would be cool with that. On the other hand, the air hostess in the early 80s bit <3

"You... sort of look like you, but not quite." "I could say the same to you!"

Graham hi Graham!! "Friend of the Doctor. Former bus driver. Worried about the amount of Daleks in here." Oh same.

Ruth!Doctor! Man everyone showing up today!

Stewarts just don't get TARDISes. Just a step too far!

Thirteen in her clever goggles ilu.

Hey uh is there going to be like. Some kind of ramification, geologically, for turning magma into steel? Because I feel that may not be healthy. I'm gonna? Hope that the conversion thing just made the actual lava into steel and maybe just told the magma to take a break, otherwise there may be Issues there lmao.

Everything goes 'splodey, Doctor included D: I'm gonna assume the Master will be fine, although he'll probably have regenerated next time we see him.

Yaz carrying the Doctor ;_; Definitely got flashbacks to Logopolis with her lying on the floor surrounded by her loved ones, and I'm assuming Tegan was thinking exactly the same thing. "Extended fam..."

Everyone dropped off at Croydon. Hopefully actual Croydon, and not Aberdeen...

"A wise person once said to me 'goodbyes only hurt because what came before was so special'. And it’s been so special. You, and Graham, and Ryan and Dan. Nobody else got to be us. Nobody else got to live our days. Nobody. And my hearts are so full of love of all of you. I have loved being with you, Yaz. And I have loved being me." ;_;

Ice cream and not saying goodbye :( I know a lot of people will Have Thoughts about how there wasn't even a kiss or anything, but honestly? I'm not sure the Doctor would have actually wanted to do that to Yaz. She knows she's dying. She knows that whatever they had, it's over, and they'll never see each other as they are again. Maybe her next incarnation will, but it won't be her. And kissing Yaz would have been almost... feeling like a pity kiss? "Well, I didn't want things to end, so I'll give you this one indulgence and then off you trot to do your mourning thing."

The support group ;_; Ian! (William Russell is ninety-seven now! He just broke a world record for the longest time between TV appearances with the same character, fifty-seven years!) Jo! Mel! And Kate's an official companion now too, looks like! God I love Tegan and Ace just flanking Yaz, like. "Yeah, this girl is heartbroken. We're going to look after her."

"The blossomiest blossom. That's the only sad thing. I want to know what happens next. Right then, Doctor Whoever-I-am-about-to-be. Tag. You're it." ;_;

AND THEN, OF COURSE. THAT HAPPENED. What? What?? What?!

Concluding remarks from RTD:

"If you thought the appearance of David Tennant was a shock, we've got plenty more surprises on the way! The path to Ncuti's Fifteenth Doctor is laden with mystery, horror, robots, puppets, danger and fun! And how is it connected to the return of the wonderful Donna Noble? How, what, why? We're giving you a year to speculate, and then all hell lets loose!"

Fifteenth Doctor! Fifteenth Doctor! And three November specials! Official word from the BBC:

"As Jodie Whittaker’s Thirteenth Doctor regenerated on Sunday 23rd October, it was none other than David Tennant who appeared as the Fourteenth Doctor. But what has led to the return of a much loved face?

With David Tennant and Catherine Tate reprising their roles for the 60th anniversary, it has been confirmed that they will appear in three special episodes, set to air in November 2023. The next Doctor, played by Ncuti Gatwa, will then take control of the TARDIS, with his first episode airing over the festive period in 2023."

So... I'm guessing the 60th specials, plural, will all be in the last week of November (ooh, I might get one on my birthday! ...oh dear god I'll be 37), or it'll be three episodes that conclude on the 23rd for the anniversary, the last of the three will feature the regeneration, then the first with Gatwa will be a Christmas or New Year special?

Trailer thoughts: "I don't know who I am any more." Yeah I bet. And given that the shot of Gatwa has him looking visibly confused and also wearing the same tie Tennant is wearing in the promo, he might be appearing here and there all through the three, like a... I guess a vision of the future? Or that preview was for all three? Man, I don't know!

Parting thoughts: storywise, a bit busy, and I feel Dan and Vinder were super underused. But I goddamn loved all the continuity fanservice, and the scenes of the past companions and their Doctors emotionally destroyed me. Whittaker was fantastic in an episode that could have threatened to overshadow her with so much going on (although I feel the post-regeneration reveal did overshadow her), genuinely cried through the regeneration, and goddamn is it next year yet because that was an ending and a half!

[chibimyumi]

Redesign Prompt RESULTS!

Alright, thank you everyone who has voted, the results are now in! Overwhelmingly our winner is Ranmao 🐈!

First of all, I need to insert a few caveats here. Unlike with Victorian fashion, I do not have years and years of studying of Qing dynasty-fashion behind me. So whatever results I show here are the product of a fortnight of reading up and meticulous studying of contemporary photographs. a.k.a. I am merely scraping the surface here. But! I do promise that everything shown here is done to the best of my ability to be responsible as a content provider.

Now without further ado, let us dive into Ranmao’s current design, the blatantly obvious inaccuracies, and how I propose to redes...ign... her outfit while keeping the original intact as much.... as possible????  Heck, this is not even worthy of being called a ‘redesign’, this is straight up designing from scratch!

Hair

Let us start with her bangs. Her bangs are in fact surprisingly accurate, as late Qing dynasty women would wear their bangs in a variety of Bettie bangs trimmed well above the eyebrows. Having sides of the bangs growing longer framing the face was usual too, though they would be cut slightly thicker than Ranmao’s. Though, we don’t know how much hair Ranmao has, so I see no reason to alter it.

Twin braids are very much associated with the “China doll look”, but they seem to have been branded into our image of the “Chinese Girl” because it was the go-to look for unmarried women in Republic China (which is many years later than Ranmao’s time, and also has more surviving images.)

In Ranmao’s time, unmarried girls would either wear the bottom part of their hair down, or have everything tied into a single braid behind them. Girls who preferred a more feminine look would often decorate the sides or the top with flowers or other ornaments depending on their wealth.

Yana’s notes say that the flower in Ranmao’s hair is a Chinese peony, which is also called the Empress of Flowers in Chinese as well as Japanese culture. I could find sources on how the peony was the symbol of the Empress of China, and how one better avoid wearing any type of peonies around the Empress herself for fear of being suspected of disrespect. But I could not find any evidence of such flowers being banned for other people, so presumably it was more an ‘unwritten code of politeness’ rather than fashion law.

Hence, I kept the pink peony design for Ranmao, and decorated them in the way Qing women would have.

Neckline

By far the most interesting thing I learned from this redesign attempt was that the “mandarin collar” - the thing that pops up first in most people’s minds when thinking about Chinese fashion - was in fact not at all common.

In this academic work on Chinese fashion history, Finnane writes that the ‘high collar’ was “not a common feature of costume before the twentieth century.” Instead, most costumes would have had a round neckline.

Finnane, Antonia. Changing Clothes in China : Fashion, History, Nation. New York: Columbia University Press, 2008. p. 93

The ‘high collar’ gained popularity in early 1900s in China after the Europeans brought with them the beauty standard for high collars, as well as slim-fitted silhouettes. The Chinese increasingly adopted this type of collar and the slim silhouette (the well known ‘china dress/qipao/cheongsam’), and the relatively many early photos that survived helped engrave this stereotype into our minds.

Sleeves

I do not think it requires any mention, but 19th century Chinese fashion did not include boleros... For many of the original designs of Ranmao I can sort of see where Yana got that image from, but this bolero-look truly beats me.

The sleeves worn in the late Qing period were relatively wide, though they were starting to slim down over time. Late Qing women enjoyed much more flexible clothing rules than earlier Qing women, and the width of the sleeves was in great part determined by personal preference, season, but mostly one’s wealth.

Needless to say, the larger the sleeves the more fabric and embroidery it would require, and thus more expensive. Also, the wider the more it would get into the wearer’s way.

I don’t know how much thought Yana put into Ranmao’s original design in relation to her function as elite bodyguard, but considering how the original has zero practicality and only serves to maximise Ranmao’s attractiveness, I have no qualms about giving Ranmao fairly large sleeves too. Besides, let us assume that Lau is responsible for providing Ranmao with clothes. Illegal money tends to fill the pockets quite deeply, I don’t think he can’t spare a few pounds for big sleeves.

Wider sleeves would expose much of ‘a lady’s precious skin’, as such a more fitted layer would have been worn underneath. (The sleeves under the wider sleeves obviously did not have to be orange-ish. This was merely coincidence that both my redesign and the visual source have this colour.)

Silhouette

The figure hugging silhouette x Chinese clothes was - as mentioned above - not at all a thing in Ranmao’s time. In fact, the accentuation of the “female curves” was considered very inappropriate if not downright ugly in the Qing dynasty.

Finnane, Antonia. Changing Clothes in China : Fashion, History, Nation. New York: Columbia University Press, 2008. p. 94

Yana’s notes mention that the thing Ranmao wears is just an European corset and that that is the only thing ‘English’ about her attire.

Well... I don’t know where the idea that Victorians wore corsets on the outside comes from, but I myself admittedly was fooled by this a few years ago too... I promise you all now however, Victorians decidedly did not wear their ‘bras’ on the outside. I think even now this look is considered rather ‘questionable’ by most people.

Instead, Qing dynasty clothes were mostly cut wide and straight, loosely dangling around their bodies offering maximum comfort and space. You feared Ranmao killing you in her corset? Now tremble before her now blessed with maximised agility.

Trousers

Well... I considered ‘translating’ Ranmao’s attire to 2020 standard like I did for O!Ciel, but that would not be Tumblr-filter approved. Skirts so short they could be mistaken for a belt are nothing too surprising today, but wearing one with a split that deep is probably a bit too revealing even by today’s standards.

By the late Qing dynasty, men and women, rich and poor alike predominantly wore trousers. Long robes (skirts) were definitely in fashion too, but they were reserved for those who could afford to not have much agility. If you were a farmer, robes would not have been your first option. Perhaps the way long skirts were viewed by the Qing Chinese was not unlike the way we see them now; ‘more classy’ ‘more feminine’ and ‘less convenient’, but not the only way to express femininity.

In these pictures below we can see relatively rich women, married and unmarried alike, all wearing trousers.

Ranmao is predominantly a fighter, and as trousers are plenty feminine in Chinese fashion culture, I don’t see why she would not choose to wear trousers instead of a restricting long skirt. Hence I gave her a pair of trousers.

Shoes

Like I said before, “the shoes are correct...” But the anklets definitely are not!

Golden or silver anklets are something that are worn by very, VERY young children in China. Even to this day it is customary among many Chinese people to gift newborn children at least one piece of pendant, bracelet or anklet, for it is believed to bring the child luck. More practically, this piece of jewellery will become the child’s first piece of property then, which can be sold later SHOULD they ever run into a financially difficult situation.

These anklets or bracelets would not be removed from the child unless they have outgrown them, which happens fairly quick. Ranmao who is probably full grown should have outgrown them at least ten years ago. Hence, seeing these things on Ranmao would probably make it look like she is still wearing diapers or bibs.

Chinese people would likewise not have worn shoes barefoot. Instead, they would have worn cotton socks which were mostly white.

DOUBLE HAMMERS

HERE COME THE WEAPONS! Luckily Yana wrote the following note or I would never have guessed what they are for my knowledge about Chinese weapons is next to nothing.

“These are【SUPER】heavy. They are weapons called 双錘 (double hammers) and they in fact exist. I heard these were used by power-type warriors.”

So, I googled 双錘 and it turns out that the type Ranmao is holding do indeed exist! But... only in fiction and theatre.

The hammers that were used in actual combat were either very thin and long, or short and plump. Such hammers were one of the most primitive metal weapons in China, and quickly fell out of favour among Chinese warriors when more practical weapons such as the metal spear, sword and bows were invented. The hammers mostly retained their value because of their weight in heroic tales and myths about legendary warriors and deities.

I don’t have the full details, but apparently according to some legends or myths, one of such big-ass hammers could deal a force of 200kg, and thus 400kg combined. Regardless of this being realistic or not, it sure does sound very cool! It is therefore no wonder this primitive weapon retains its popularity even today.

Nowadays when these hammers are used, they are either the blown up theatrical versions, or the smaller versions for the sake of preserving martial arts.

I had a bit of a dilemma as to which version to give Ranmao, but in the end I settled with the short and heavy ones because I wanted to keep the idea of this small and innocent looking girl wielding solid metal balls. Two cheer-leading sticks would simply not have the same weight, figuratively and literally.

Alright everyone! Did you enjoy my response to your votes? I hope you did ^^ Non-European fashion history really is not my strong suit, so my deepest apologies if I messed anything up.

Pray tell if I did, I am always happy to learn ^^

[timextoxhajima]

Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 6 - Misogynist

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @hyunjaethereal @sunwoowuvbot​

“Don’t offend me.”

“No, I think the best course of action for HERA & ARTEMIS is that we not only branch out to collaborate with other companies, but also to make um… say, connections with non-profit organisations. Orphanages, charities, you name it. The publicity HERA & ARTEMIS will get after being recognised as a community-caring brand, a brand that cares no less than it’s maximum ability to about children, the elderly and the disabled.” 

“Charitable. I like it,” The Resources CEO of The Board nods with a wine of champagne in his glass. even at her own wedding, all the bride can think of is work. All she cares about is how to make sure HERA & ARTEMIS is heard in the crowd of attendees to her wedding. “Anyway, a gorgeous wedding, I must say. What made you have it at home? I’d expect that your father and brother would have wanted it somewhere more… ravish, y’know, more extravagant.” 

It takes some effort to hide her disgust at the thought that her father had a say over where she wanted to have her wedding. 

“Of course not,” The service smile almost feels surgically implanted into her face, even Jang Won herself is put off. “Juyeon and I have already planned this right off the bat, have it at Hera’s Manor.” 

“Why not at the Lee House? I thought the Lee’s would’ve preferred it there, you know, husband and all.” 

Jang Won could’ve slapped the glass of champagne out of his grasp if she wanted to, then probably break the bowl off the stem and send it into his eye. 

Misogynist. 

“We—” 

“The Lee House doesn’t have the facility and resources to hold a wedding now,” Juyeon comes round with a cup of whiskey, cheeks slightly pink from the alcohol as he rounds his arm around Jang Won, pulling her into his torso and even bothering to press a kiss into her temple. “It isn’t as presentable as you’d expect it to be. Hera’s Manor is well-kept and it looks like it’s prepped for a party every other day.” 

Juyeon smiles politely, eyes drifting from the Resources CEO to Jang Won, and for a split second, Jang Won might just feel somewhat impressed he stood up for her. “You know what they say, if you need something done, a lady will do it fast and efficient.”

The Resources CEO provides the newly wedded couple an awkward smile, not really able to spit out a proper response to Juyeon’s rebuttal. 

“Anyway, love, your brother’s asking for you in your office. Some administrative issues that cropped up,” Juyeon pulls away and turns his body, feet already pointing away from the Resources CEO. “If you’ll excuse us, Mr Teuk.” 

Juyeon lowers his head as a sign of respect, though he probably doesn’t mean it. He gently tugs on Jang Won and leads her out of the courtyard. 

“Please tell me there aren’t any actual administrative manners Younghoon wants to talk to me about,” Jang Won seethes as she walks up the yard stairs and into the main hall. 

“‘Course not,” Juyeon subtly shakes his head. “He’s having the time of his life actually, getting acquainted with the other members of The Board. Have you always been the one helping him with Artemis?” 

“In his defence, I don’t let him handle anything. It’s a subsidiary of HERA & ARTEMIS so I might as well take things into my own hands and worry about it on my own.” 

“Well, maybe you should let him figure his hand out at things. He doesn’t legally own Artemis for nothing.” 

Jang Won turns to shoot a look of distaste at Juyeon. 

“What?” He frowns, forehead creasing. “I’m literally telling you to split your workload.”

“I don’t need to split my workload. I’m doing fine on my own and frankly, I’d rather he sit back and let me do most of it so that at least I know what the Hell’s going on with my companies without worrying about any secrets.” 

Juyeon rubs the back of his neck and shoves his hands into his pockets. “In other words, you don’t trust your brother.” 

“Please,” She walks off first, heading for her office where she usually seeks refuge amongst her bottles of whiskey and bourbon and documents. “Just because I love him for being my brother doesn’t mean I should trust him with my finances.” 

“You’re literally born into a family of fortune. Even if he does mess up, you’d be able to recover from it. The consequences would mean absolutely nothing to you.” 

Jang Won pushes the heavy doors of her office open, admiring the late-morning sun that’s spilling all over her chair and her desk. 

“See, that’s where you’re wrong, pretty boy. I choose not to rely on whatever I have at birth because I always felt like whatever my dad had was just handed to him,” She reaches for the ice bucket and picks up a ball of ice, dropping it into the whiskey glass, then coats most of its surface with bourbon. “But God forsake my hard work, huh? I guess if hard work really did pay off then I wouldn’t be standing here, in a wedding-lunch dress, talking to my husband.” 

Juyeon raises both brows and throws himself into one of the sofa seats, the clinking of the whiskey decanter echoing ever so slightly throughout the office. “Ever heard of a holiday? You should go on one.”

She scoffs with exaggeration, the gentle swishing of the alcohol meeting the ice and the glass gleaming like liquid honey under the sunlight. “Yes, because I’m just like you, the one who would run away from the responsibilities he was born into whenever he doesn’t want them.”

“I’m sorry,” Juyeon grimaces, standing up and allowing the silvers of his suit glimmer as he walks into where the sunlight kisses the floor. “Which toe did I step on? I just pulled you out of a situation you would’ve otherwise not wanted to be in.” 

“Unfortunately for you, I didn’t need pulling out. I could’ve handled myself right there and then. It’s been like that for as long as I can remember - I don’t need myself a nanny to save me,” Cocking one of her brows, she gives a wry laugh before downing the shot of whiskey.

Juyeon is in disbelief in her ability to perceive gratitude - or rather, a lack thereof. 

“Maybe your father came back to save HERA & ARTEMIS from your terrible people’s skills, ever thought of that?”

“Wrong again, pretty boy!” She peels the glass off her lips and stares at the lipstick mark. “I’m perfect with the people I wanna be perfect with to get what I want, and when they are of no use to me, I’m well aware I treat them less than average.”

“There it is,” He sneers, stopping right before her as she finishes the last bit of her whiskey. “So, you’re a hypocrite.”

A smirk draws across her lips. Jang Won almost slams the glass back down in the tray of other glasses and the whiskey decanter. “And I’m proud of it. There’s nothing you can do about it, Lee Juyeon. You agreed to play this game my way and now that we’re wearing matching rings. I’m afraid you’ll have to deal with it.”

Jang Won squares up and jabs a finger into his shoulder. But Juyeon catches her wrist and holds it in place, causing her to grunt and attempt to writhe her way out, but to no avail. 

“Kim Jang Won, you listen to me and you listen well. Just because I agreed to play this game by your rules, doesn’t mean I’m your puppet. We both know who will be the more powerful one in May, so my advice?” By now, Juyeon’s nose is almost in her eye. He’s not even bothering to look at her. 

“Don’t offend me.”

Jang Won finally snatches her wrist out of his hold when she feels his grip loosen. Huffing, she stomps past him, shoulder bumping into his arm for good measure as she leaves the office.

Younghoon just about catches his sister rolling her eyes so hard, she was this close to hurling a string of vulgarities at the wooden of her office door. “Hey, what were you doing in your office? People are looking for you!”

Without a word, her eyes are locked with his in frustration. 

“What?” He frowns. 

She thinks for a moment. 

She can ruin him and destroy him by asking him to take Artemis for himself before the deal is due in June. Ask him why he was so useless and had his little sister do everything for him, never once really fighting to take ownership of a company legally his. 

“Nothing,” The brush-off is sharp and distinct as she waves him off, turning to walk into the main hall. “Go get yourself more sponsors before June, will you? I’m not sure the same people would want to keep in touch with HERA & ARTEMIS after the separation and collaboration is made official.”

Juyeon returns home later that evening, still wearing the fourth outfit of the day. It was a blue suit with a black collar and details and all he wants to do is soak himself in his bath. Maybe he could go to sleep safe and sound, and he’d wake up single and free to do whatever he actually wants to do. 

He walks down the entrance corridor, sick of all the staged portraits of him and his family hung on the walls. The main hall comes into sight, past the stairs on his right, where the television was still broadcasting bits and pieces of his wedding earlier. In the million-dollar couch sat his father, eyes and ears attentive to the screen. 

“Was it so entertaining that you have to watch it again? I know you were there this afternoon.”

His father turns his head subtly. Juyeon pulls off his blazer and removes his watch, laying the heavy clothing over his forearm as he scans the broadcast.

“The Lee-Kim wedding saw nothing short of nothing but a perfect list of investors, sponsors, fellow colleagues and leaders of several enterprises...”

He turns to look at his father, obviously still somewhat hurt that he hadn’t been officially invited by his son - Mr Ro had sent out mandatory invites to family members.

“It was a gorgeous wedding.”

“Yeah, well...” Juyeon shrugs lifelessly, already turning around to head for the stairs. “I had no say in it. It was her wedding and I don’t care, so.”

“The Board is expecting you to go on a Honeymoon, you have that in place, right?”

Juyeon gives a dry chuckle, already on the first step of the stairs. “Yeah, we’re going to Guatemala.”

“Guatemala?” His father shifts his attention from the television and looks at Juyeon, halfway up the stairs. “You’re just finding a chance to go diving in Belize, aren’t you?”

His son doesn’t falter, only continuing taking each step towards the second level, in hopes that he wouldn’t have to listen to his father criticise the only thing Jang Won let him do. At least it was some kind of freedom. 

“Juyeon-”

“Mom better not be in my room.”

The second floor corridor greets him with even more portraits of his family, most of the pictures of him when he was younger. He halts right outside his door when he notices light seeping out from beneath. 

Sighing with exasperation, he lays his hand on the door handle, readying himself to listen to his mother ramble. But his attention drifts from the cream-painted mahogany to the low cabinet next to him, the blue shade of the stingray shining under the hallway lights.

There was a ceramic statue of a standing coral frame with the stingray within the arc, and on it engraved ‘Hawaii 2018′. He smiles, remembering only fond memories of seeing a huge stingray while diving. Sunwoo had been dragged out by him - one of those times when he fought with his parents and couldn’t stand being in the same house as them. He covered travel cost and hospitality fees, ensuring Sunwoo’s parents (whose family was also on the smaller arm of The Board’s administration) that he’d take care of them. 

Juyeon got an earful from his parents when he came back. Young Jin Seol had been the one to tell his parents his whereabouts, solely because he had arranged for her to make sure it seemed like he was still doing his job at the office. So, of course, when his parents walked into office and she was doing his work for him, they had threatened to fire her. 

But Juyeon knew he was indebted, and told his parents, “No Jin Seol, then you can forget about me taking over Apple-Korea.”

Sucking a deep breath, Juyeon shakes himself out of his mental trance, and pushes the door open. 

The back of his mother seems so fragile on first sight, and he’s well aware she’s getting on in her years. For a split second, he feels emotional, possibly feeling some tinge of remorse at how horrible of a son he’s been.

Then he remembers that she’s had an abundance of spa treatments, country-club lunches with her fellow rich moms after a game of gold or tennis, and a bunch of other things she definitely didn’t need. He wish he could tell himself otherwise, that she had been born into this life and thus living anything else dissimilar to this would be tiring on her.

But he can’t.

“I’m surprised you bothered to come home,” She says without looking at him. Juyeon rests his blazer on the back of the single sofa seat that’s angled to face the one she’s sitting in. “I was wondering if I should send some pajamas over to Hera’s Manor.”

Juyeon sits in the crystal encrusted sofa seat, crossing his legs and eyeing his mother fiddle with the wedding band on her finger. It reminds him of his own. 

“You realise you’re the one who bound me to the Kim family, don’t you? You’re the one who said okay to marrying Kim Jang Won, not me.”

“It was for your own good.”

“For mine or for our family?” Juyeon leans back in his seat and interlocks his fingers, placing them in his lap. “What else do you really need from the Lee family that you simply cannot take your eyes off? Their money? HERA & ARTEMIS? What?”

Only now does Juyeon notice the cup of tea on the small coffee table infront of them. 

“A child,” She says, like it was the most casual thought one could have, before taking a sip of tea. Her son shuts his eyes then opens them with his eyebrows as far up his forehead as he can. 

Providing a dry, tortured chuckle, Juyeon blinks multiple times, wishing that it was a condition with his hearing and not just something his mother had just spat out.

“A what?” Juyeon pulls apart his hands and leans forward, fists now clenched and pressed into the cushion he was sitting in.

“You heard me,” She places the tea cup down and refuses to look at him. “A child would mean inheritance. The Lee family will inherit the wealth of the Kims and it could possibly start a new system. It could rewrite The Board. We could become The Board.”

“What the-” He finally stands, barely choking out some kind of laughter filled with confusion and utter disbelief. “You want a child just to bond our families together and take over The fucking Board? My God, why are you so obsessed with The Board?”

“Because The Board is everything! No board, no us, no wealth and comfort like the kind we raised you in-”

“Does it look like I wanted it?!” Juyeon runs his hands through his hair, pulling his hair back and stretching his hairline. 

“You ingrate-”

“So I am an ingrate. But I had no choice, I have no life of my own because guess who’s making my decisions for me? You! If I don’t even have the ability to make my own choices then how do I even qualify as an ingrate?!”

She’s silent, and very much staring at the words spewing out of her son’s mouth now. She huffs through her flared nostrils, picking up the saucer and the tea cup and standing. “I don’t know what kind of ideas Kim Jang Won has planted in your head but you are still part of the Lee family and-”

“For Gods’ sake, Jang Won has nothing to do with any of this! In fact, she can’t care less about what I’m doing, so long as it doesn’t change the course of this entire situation. If anything, she’s playing it safe; she’s playing it against her father, and not us,” The veins on Juyeon’s hands are about to rip through his skin when he cannot close his fist any more. “Her father literally climbed out the grave... and you took this chance to capitalise on that in order to make our family richer the moment you heard of The Board’s announcement regarding HERA & ARTEMIS’s ownership complications...”

Juyeon shakes his head subtly, realising that he was panting from the sheer force of anger and disgust rushing through him. 

“And she’s younger than me. Lost her mother, lost her father, who only comes back to take what she built? You know, for a woman under The Board, I’d think you’d understand what she’s gone through. I thought... I thought you would’ve known how hard it is to be the successful one in the family but cannot pass down the family name... but everytime I think the world of you, and I think you’d act a little more like the woman I thought you are... you prove me wrong.”

Juyeon glares down at her, hands holding the teacup in the saucer with some kind of disapproving, disappointed look of fury in her eyes. Then he sighs heavily, hands rushing to pick up his blazer and storms out the room before she can.

“Leave Kim Jang Won alone, or else I’ll refuse Apple-Korea. By then, you can forget about all your stupid green bills and diamond rings.”

And with that, he slams the door shut. 

Juyeon appears along the second floor hallway, visible from the first floor’s living hall, where his father was still watching the news of his wedding earlier on in the day. Of course, the door slamming would’ve caught his attention, so when his son rushes down the stairs while putting his blazer back on, the elder man removes himself off the couch.

“Juyeon! Where are you going?!”

“Don’t call me, and don’t even think of calling Hera’s Manor,” He opens the heavy front door with such determination, then slams it harder than he intends to. By the foot of the stairs leading down to the pick up point by the entrance, his two bodyguards are taken aback and flustered when Juyeon appears again.

“Uh, can I get Mr Bong around-”

The instruction through the guard’s earpiece is cut short and interrupted abruptly as Juyeon unplugs the earpiece from the transmitter. 

“Mr Lee-” 

Juyeon doesn’t hesitate to do the same with the other guard. By now, his father has gotten the front door open and yelling at him with disapproving scolds. 

Rushing around the hood of the Porsche, Juyeon steps into the drivers’ seat - an unlikely sight, since he’s been chauffeured around most of the time.

“What in the world are you two doing? Stop him from leaving!” 

The vehicle revs to life, and Juyeon fumbles under the passenger seat’s compartment box and every crook and cranny in the front of the car.

“Juyeon!”

He winds up the window on the driver’s side and locks the entire vehicle just as his father reaches the window. He tugs on the handle angrily, almost able to shake the entire car with his aggression. 

“Juyeon, don’t you dare!”

Then, he finds it. A tracking device attached to all the cars his family owns.

Ripping it off the surface it was stuck into, he rolls down the window on the passenger’s side and hurls it out, straight into the arms of one of the bodyguards.

“Juyeon!”

He starts up the car and pulls it into drive, forcing his father to back off as he moves off.

[eleanore-delphinium]

Reciprocate II (2021 version)

DISCLAIMER: Repost with additional details and edits from same title piece found in DAMIRAE ENTRIES.

But this particular one didn’t really change much as compared to the 2021 version of part 1.

Finale: Reciprocate III: The After

Reciprocate II: Damian

 In a sterile white room devoid of any color and of any indication of ownership or personalization, laid a single figure on top of a white medical bed, white sheets tucked over her sternum. The room felt bright because of the color, it was also rather lonely and rather very empty—except for the pale woman with long purple hair that laid on the bed. An empty chair on her right side and bedside tables with nothing on top, on either side of her bed. Her hands laid on her sides and her eyes closed. There was no indication of movement except for her quiet breathing.

The door opened to reveal Damian Wayne in a white button up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black slacks and black dress shoes. Despite his neat outfit, his hair was a mess and his eyes were bloodshot with eyebags underneath. He looked as though he had not slept well at all—which was likely the case.

Afterall, he had not slept well since the day Raven got stabbed. There were good days and bad, now—today was a better day. He walked to the empty chair beside Raven’s right hand, his back facing the door. He sat on the chair and gazed longingly at the figure on the bed.

And he recalled what had transpired that night—the night that caused Raven’s current medical condition.

Raven had fallen and her eyes slowly fluttered close. He could tell that she was trying not to lose consciousness. Raven lifted a hand towards Damian and Garfield’s general direction making Damian wonder if she was trying to reach out to him or Garfield.

‘It had to be Garfield.’, He thought because it would not make sense if Raven was trying to reach out to him. Damian couldn’t help but feel very bitter inside. She would never choose him. She would unlikely want to hold him with her dying breath. 

At this moment the creature was distracted by Tim who was on the other side, seeing this—Damian took the opportunity to run to Raven. He took note of the footsteps that followed behind him, Garfield was right behind him as they ran toward Raven.

Her raised hand was faltering and Damian felt as though his heart was about to jump out of his throat-- out of fear.

No. You cannot close your eyes. I will not allow it! 

Damian ran faster towards Raven and as her hand fell to the ground, he finally reached her side. But her eyes had also closed, and Damian held his breath as he-- so very gently, held her in his arms.

“Raven! Raven!” He called to her frantically. “No. No. No. Don’t close your eyes, please come back, stay conscious!” His breathing was ragged, his heart beating loudly in his ears. Damian bit his lip and held his breath in a conscious manner, as he tried to calm himself, and think. He had to think.

“Raven! Oh god no.” Garfield stood hovering above Raven, and the next second he was reaching out to Raven. But Damian pulled her closer to him and gave Garfield the darkest and cruelest glare Garfield had ever seen. And Garfield froze, he took a deep breath and gulped down his fear.

“Gar…” Terra came running towards Garfield, and her eyes laid on Raven. “No, if-if she didn’t try to protect me—” Damian gave Terra the same glare Garfield received, making her unable to finish her thought. She froze in fear too.

“We have to stop her bleeding.” Damian absent-mindedly said, his voice cold, and as he scanned Raven’s wound, his eye twitched. Raven had a gaping hole on her chest, Damian did not want to think about it—but the situation was truly grim.

“How are you going to—” Garfield received another glare from Damian.

Damian was not asking or seeking their help to stop Raven’s bleeding, he had said what he had said to inform them only. He will deal with Raven’s injury, no one else is suitable.

Damian reached for something in his utility belt, and he pulled out three silver balls. His facial expression seemingly frozen in a cold and uncaring manner as he placed the one-inch sized ball strategically on her gaping wound. He placed one on top and two at the bottom, forming a triangle. It beeped and glowed a faint blue and from it came out a purple like foam.

Damian’s right eye twitched, his lips pressed together so much that his lips became pale and his brows drawn so closely together, that he looked like he would punch the next person who would touch him.

He had no choice. This was the only way to ‘plug’ Raven’s gaping hole. She was losing too much blood because of it.

Damian clenched his teeth even more, if that was even possible. He leaned Raven on his right arm as his hands clenched tightly. If he had not had gloves on, then anyone would be able to see how white his fist had become. His brows still tightly knit together, it looked painful to watch his brows like that.

And to Garfield and Terra, he looked like the scariest man on earth. They seemed to fear Damian more than the unbeatable monster that had stabbed Raven into this state.

Damian hated what he had to do. He hated that he had to plug Raven like this. He hated that he knew he had to put her down now. Now.

There was a moment of hesitance, but Damian bit his lip till it bled to keep his focus.

“We need to put Raven in a safe spot,” He said in a clipped manner as he picked Raven up in his arms in a princess carry, “Distract that thing and keep him far away from her.” He continued absent-mindedly as his eyes quickly analyzed the best spot to hide her away.

And at the same time, he recalled her injury. There were no organs that were damaged, that at least is a good thing. And he hoped and prayed-- at that same moment-- that Raven can survive this.

With Damian standing on his full length, Garfield snapped out from his frozen state and had begun to reach out for Raven once again.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Damian snarled in such an unsightly manner that Garfield remembered the initial fear Damian gave him. Terra did not feel the fear again because she was looking at Garfield with worry and realization. Terra missed to see Damian’s expression and his words did not register in her mind because she knew at that moment while looking at Garfield—that Raven and Garfield will always have history.

Of course, she knew of Raven and Garfield’s relationship and didn’t mind it. Raven was simply his past. Garfield told her that he loves her, and that he would never go back to Raven—if that was something Terra worried about. And he must have kept his word. But the years Raven and him shared was something that could never be erased. And emotions built up throughout those years was something that couldn’t be replaced so easily. To realize such a thing now of all places—

Damian had accidentally hit Terra as he started moving, cutting Terra’s thoughts. For a second her eyes laid on the boy wonder—and to her, she did not see a hero protecting or saving someone. She saw a man holding someone in a way that showed he was too afraid to hold any tighter in fear of losing her. A man refusing to blink, too afraid that it would be his last sight of her and that she would turn into dust any moment now. He held her in such a cautious manner—that it hurt to see him so forlorn like that.

That was something she thought she would never see in Damian Wayne. His body—every cell seemed to radiate a want to not let go of the woman in his arms. A conflict of holding her so tightly so he can remember how it feels to hold her and yet—still, he was a man of responsibility. Despite his desire to just be with her—he knew where he stands—the monster was still there.

Terra quickly turned, refusing to see Garfield’s expression—it was something she did not want to see right now.

“I will cover for you, Damian.” She told him firmly not waiting for a response and simply initiated her suggestion.

Damian sighed loudly in the white room, his forehead resting on his hands that was propped up on the bed beside Raven’s right hand. When they finally got to neutralize the enemy, the first thing Damian did was run to where Raven was. He was so afraid that when he got there, she would be cold and blue.

But she held on.

She held on.

He sighed again, as he turned his head that was resting on his right hand towards Raven.

He begged his father to help him keep her alive, and the first few months—God those were awful. When they arrived to have her healed, nothing was working. Whatever that creature was and what he did, messed with her. He begged his father to do anything—anything. Somehow, they found a way to stabilize her and close the gaping hole in her chest—of course every step was a struggle.

Seeing her with so many tubes and monitors, some advanced tech and some actual alien tech, hurt Damian in a way that a bullet shot could not compare. And he felt so helpless. It was probably the helplessness that hit him even worse than a bullet wound. 

Damian Wayne—son of Batman, son of Bruce Wayne, a robin—a boy wonder—an assassin at some point, still a man seen as the heir of the Demon’s Head—felt so powerless despite all the titles and honor and glory those titles held. He still felt powerless.

He held the woman he had loved for years in his arms, and had to leave her in her injured state to defend the world of the very same creature that injured her in the first place. He left her all alone in a corner—not even knowing if she would be alive when he returned. He knew that having someone guard her would be a waste of manpower. He had to think of the bigger picture—because it is his responsibility, he couldn’t put her over that. And a small part of him hates himself for it.

He had seen her struggle to survive day after day, and night after night since then. The rejection her body faced—and his selfishness, thinking—hoping that she would survive it.

And she did.

She survived everything. And most of the tubes and monitors were finally taken away. Of course, she still had an IV drip and a monitor checking her vitals, just in case. Still, it was fifteen less tubes and monitors—and doctors and scientists.

Damian reached out for Raven’s right hand with his left, his palm resting on the back of her hand. He had gotten so used to all the tubes and monitors, that the first week without them was so unfamiliar to him.

Every time he visited her, he expected the tubes and monitors to multiply and revert back to when they couldn’t seem to cure her. Up until just a few weeks ago, he expected that they would return because she would become unstable again. But it never happened. He was so thankful it never happened. He slipped his right hand under hers, his worries just seemed like paranoia.

“Raven, won’t you wake up already?” He muttered as he had gotten used to talking to himself whenever he visited her.

“I still planned to confess to you,” He chuckled emptily “Won’t you at least let me do that?” He brought her hand to his forehead. “Let me be selfish…”

 ~.~.~.~.~

 The door to Raven’s personal room opened, revealing Damian in his robin uniform, his mask off. He walked to her in a slightly slump manner and he took her hands on his and sighed.

“I’m sorry Raven, it appears that I can’t visit you for the unforeseeable future. Something came up.” He looked at her sleeping face sadly.

“Don’t be angry, I try to visit you every day after all, even if it’s just for a couple of minutes, but I never missed a day since you got injured.” He paused a vacant look on his face. “If you ask me, I’m pretty sure they were lenient on my lack of participation in missions recently because I looked as if I had lost a lover.” He laughed in a broken manner.

“It’s funny-- how I am reacting as if I had lost a lover—when we never really got to be together. It would be nice if you wake up—at least let me confess to you clearly. And you can put a rest to my pining.” He didn’t know why, but he felt that he had to rearrange her hair before he left and so he did.

“I will come back, I promise you.” He said as he reluctantly let go of her hand. He refused to look back as he left the room, and took his mask from his utility belt and puts it on.

 ~.~.~.~.~

 The door opened gently again as Damian Wayne in an all-black outfit walked in. He was in his signature black turtleneck. He had on a thin black framed eyeglass on his nose and held a book on his left hand. He had gotten used to opening the door slowly and gently, out of the fear that when he opened the door she wouldn’t be there anymore.

At first, he thought that it was an unreasonable fear, but clearly it was not. He was afraid that the time he wasn’t with her, she would have long been gone. And when he comes to visit, he would be greeted with an empty bed. And he would not be able to even say his farewells.

He closed the door even more gently—because when the door is closed this time was theirs—well his. Because she was still unconscious—still very unaware of his presence.

“Hey Raven, I brought the book I last read to you—I have enough time today to read to you just a few chapters.” He said as he walked to his position beside her. He took a seat on the chair and held her right hand with his right hand. “It would be nice if you woke up soon.” He smiled grimly, the words have started becoming something he said out of habit.

Damian gave her a little recap of what he had read to her before as he held her hand. After that, he continued where he left off, holding her hand when he wasn’t flipping through pages. He read in a slow manner; his mind more aware of the fact that her hand felt so very right against his, instead of the words he was saying aloud.

 ~.~.~.~.~

 Raven was still lying unconscious in the white room, on her white bed. Everything was quiet inside.

“Damian it’s been almost eight months!” Came a voice from outside the room.

“So, what Grayson!” Yelled back the voice of Damian Wayne. He was in an argument right outside of Raven’s room with Dick Grayson, his adopted brother—also known as Nightwing.

“Are you serious Dami?” A pause. “At least let others see her!”

“By others you mean Garfield, right?” A loud bang was heard from inside the room.

“Well—shit, yes! Why won’t you let Gar see her? He has been asking about her or where she is.”

“Don’t you dare bring Garfield to see her—don’t you dare!” A furious reply from Damian as shuffling footsteps were heard.

“Look man, I get it. I really do. But Damian, you can’t just hide her away from her teammates.” Dick said in a tone of anxiousness.

“You see her too.” Was Damian’s quiet response. 

“You know that’s not what I mean.” A louder bang entered Raven’s room ending Dick’s words.

“She planned to leave anyway.” Damian said defensively. There was silence for a few seconds and a frustrated humph could be heard from outside the room.

“I—I didn’t think anyone would be able to deal with seeing her in that way—I” Damian paused. “I don’t think they’d want to see her in a coma—I thought it was for the best. I—I’m sorry Grayson, I will let them see her—but—just not Garfield, Grayson. That is all I am asking from you, just not him. He caused her enough pain.” And the door to Raven’s room opened. She still laid there asleep. Damian did not wait for Dick’s reply and he slowly closed the door behind him.

He was in a black button up polo shirt tucked into his black slacks, that was held into place by a black belt with a silver metal piece and he wore his black leather shoes. He looked tired but there was no hint of anger from what had transpired outside Raven’s bedroom.

“You must have heard our little argument, huh?” He said approaching the familiar chair he always sat on when visiting her. “I’m sorry to have disturbed your sleep.” He continued as he sat down on the chair and took her hand in his again. “Of course, I didn’t disturb your sleep, after all you're still unconscious.” A hollow chuckle soon followed.

Damian placed the back of Raven’s hand against his forehead. “You can wake up now. Scold me for being so selfish. For not allowing Garfield to visit you. In fact, for not letting anyone else visit you aside from a select few. But—mostly Garfield. I will not allow him in here too— in this space-- so why don’t you wake up and just tell me how selfish I am.” He tilted his head to look at Raven while her hand was still pressed on the temple of his head.

But as usual there was no response, he was so used to talking to himself by now. At this point, Damian was very convinced that Raven had tried to reach out for Garfield, one last time, before she fainted. And the thought was something that caused him bitterness.

Even in her near-death, Garfield was the last in her mind.

 ~.~.~.~.~

 Damian was sitting on the same chair holding Raven’s hand. Three months have passed since Damian and Dick’s heated argument outside of Raven’s bedroom. He wore a red hoodie with black pants and black shoes. This time around, for the first time, he looked less tired since this whole ordeal happened.

“It looks like you had a lot of visitors this month too.” He glanced at the flowers on both bedside tables, pictures in frames of Raven with the team and other things. Now the room seemed to have a little bit of a personality.

“I think it’s great that you have some visitors. Though I admit, I think that eventually they will come to visit less and less, so I think you should wake up soon. Everyone misses you a lot. I think the longer you stay asleep people would forget about you. Everyone you know is a hero Raven, and even though you stay asleep—we still have to defend the people. Everyone’s priorities will shift and they would have less time to see you. And because they have started settling with your absence, for sure the visits will lessen. But I promise, I will visit you every day until you wake up.” Damian placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand and he froze.

His lips hovering over her hand. He wiped the spot he kissed her at, with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, I should be asking permission. I didn’t—” He stared at the back of her hand. “I’m sorry I don’t know since when I started doing that, but I’m sorry. I overstepped.” He gently placed her hand back on the bed and stood up. “Let’s see what’s in the drawers, shall we?” He muttered to himself and surveyed every nook and cranny and objects in her room, keeping a mental inventory.

“We will be starting a new book soon. I no longer keep track of the books we’ve read.” He said after finishing his inspection of the room and went to sit back on the chair and crossed his arms across his chest.

“Well—I mean I keep track of the titles but no longer itemize them…” He added quietly, he used to count them but stopped at around the fifth book because it seemed like the list would continue to grow. And seeing the number rise would just be another reminder of the fact that the days waiting for Raven to wake was stretching to impossibility.

 ~.~.~.~.~

 It was a little over a year since Raven has been in her comatose state. The room felt heavy and she stirred because of it. Her breathing a little louder—a little labored. Her eyes fluttered open—her vision a blur. She saw two figures at the foot of her bed. The taller one looking at the shorter man. The shorter one was looking at her startled—he seemed to have an odd skin color. She could almost swear it was green. Raven’s eyes started to roll back to unconsciousness.

“Dick, she’s awake!” It was a familiar voice; Raven couldn’t help but think.

“What?” Dick turned to look at Raven, her eyelids slowly closing, her labored breathing slowly quieting down.

“I saw her eyes open; I swear it!” She recognized the voice as Garfield, but knowing who it was did not give her any extra motivation to fight her sleepiness.

“What the fuck is going on here!” Another familiar voice furiously entered Raven’s faltering consciousness. She wanted to wake up—to fight the tiredness she was feeling. But it was simply too late now.

The door had banged open when Damian entered. Damian was still wearing his black outer coat, his shoes dirty as he had just arrived from outside. He had no time to freshen up to visit Raven because he found out what Dick was up to.

When his eyes laid on Garfield who was looking at Raven, he wanted to rip Garfield’s head off. Damian Wayne looked like he was going to pop a vein on his neck. He glared at Dick with such open hostility that Dick was taken aback, and Garfield beside him recalled the fear Damian instilled in him that night Raven got injured.

“Her eyes opened; I saw it!” Garfield said frantically, hoping that would ease Damian’s anger. Damian stole a glance at Raven—but she was at the same state he had last seen her in.

Comatose.

“I asked you one thing, Grayson!” He growled as he slowly stomped his way to Dick whose hands were up in a ‘I surrender’ way. Damian grabbed Dick’s coat collar and pulled him close. “One thing Grayson!” He shoved Dick and pointed at Garfield.

“Look—you can’t continue denying someone who wants to visit a friend.” Dick tried to calm his brother down as he straightened his coat.

“Friend?” Damian snorted in response.

“Look, Damian I begged Dick to bring me to her.” Garfield said and he received Damian’s angry glare.

“Get. Out.” Damian simply said, he looked as though he would kill either of them any second now. For some weird reason Garfield got a little more courage at that moment, he began to open his mouth. Dick seeing Garfield’s lips open—quickly intercepted by pulling Garfield by the arm and pulling him towards the door.

“I’m sorry little D, we will talk about it outside.” Dick said as he draggedGarfield out, giving Garfield a stern look to ensure Garfield’s silence. Garfield wasn’t happy but he understood that Dick was looking out for him.

Damian stood where he was, glaring at Raven as he waited for the door to close behind Dick and Garfield. He was stiff in his spot and his fists clenched so tightly. He was still very much angry. He stood like that for five more minutes before he tried to calm himself down. His fist unclenched and his brows unfurrow.

“So—well, stop pretending then—he's gone now—so wake up.” He demanded in a low voice as he hovered beside Raven near the chair. She did not move. And Damian laughed brokenly as he fell on his knees. He reached out for her right hand absentmindedly and rested his nose on the back of her palm.

“So, it turns out you just needed him to visit you to wake up?” Damian whispered as tears fell on her hand. “So why aren’t you awake already?” He sobbed.

It was never him—she never chose him.

 ~.~.~.~.~

 It had been four months since Garfield had been regularly visiting Raven, and at times he would also bring Terra with him. Damian had conceded Garfield's wish to allow him visitation rights to see Raven. Damian could not stay angry at Dick for over two weeks, and the pair reconciled, despite Dick undermining Damian’s wishes. Damian understood that Dick was looking out for him.

Damian’s family was very much worried over him since Raven’s fall. He acted more detached and unapproachable. He wasn’t sleeping well and every second he could spare he was always hovering over Raven. In fact, he slept well hunched by Raven’s bedside with Raven’s hand against his hands and forehead. Damian was even unwilling to celebrate his twenty-second birthday with Raven still unconscious. And they could see the toll it was taking on Damian.

His family knew he needed a little push to try and let Raven’s state go and pushing Damian to allow Garfield entry was the way to do it. Damian needed to move on.

But here he was again, in the white room he specifically prepared for her. Her accommodations are all arranged by him, and his visits are always a constant. But the past four months were difficult, as he was also actively avoiding having to meet Garfield when Garfield was visiting Raven.

When Damian was able to take a step back from his anger at what Dick did—he knew that his family did it to distract Damian—to keep him away from lurking around Raven. He understood it was made of good intentions. Damian reached out for Raven’s hand, a habit he has come to develop long ago.

He wore a plain white shirt with jeans. His hair was not as neat as it usually was, and there were eyebags under his eyes yet again.

“But I guess I am a man who will only love one person in their lifetime.” He muttered, placing Raven’s hand against his right cheek. “I’ve come to wonder sometimes if I am unfortunate to be such a man—or to fall for you—” he studied her face; he has memorized every detail about her. How could he not when he was here, beside her so frequently.

“I’ve come to learn that loving you is not something to be regretful about. In fact, I am rather thankful for it. But you really got me pining over you, Raven.” He sighed, his eyes not capturing even the smallest of movement from Raven. “I love you.” He whispered and brushed his lips against the skin on the back of her hand.

A week and a half after, Damian paced at the foot of Raven’s bed, very much frustrated. He paused and glared at Raven, running his hands through his head, a sign of his developing anger. He stomped towards his spot as he glared at Raven again.

His hair was a mess, his eyebags had gotten darker. His clothes that was a plain black shirt with jeans had creases, very uncharacteristic of him.

“I don’t get it!” He said, containing most of his anger. “You obviously woke up the first time Garfield visited you! Tsk, as it turns out, all you need was for him to visit you-- for you to wake up. So why did you go back to sleep!” His tone louder now and he sighed to try and dispel a little of his anger. His hand at his side clenched into balls.

Damian was seething in anger, and he exhaled and inhaled in air as if he was palpitating. Finally, the anger he had dissipated. But it was replaced by raw hopelessness, anyone who would see him in such a state, would feel their hearts knot.

“You really—really got me pining over you.” Damian said as he knelt on the floor with a hunched back as he took her right hand in between his palms. “It’s funny how you pined over someone else as I pined over you—it seems that you're making me pine over you just as long as you pined over him.”

The chair he usually sat on was across the room, toppled down. A droplet of water falls in front of Damian’s right knee.

 ~.~.~.~.~

 Two months passed just like that. Raven’s friends had long since stopped visiting her as frequently as they did the first three months. Asking them to take so much time off of their busy hero life was too much to ask for. But Damian always made time for her, and at almost a year and a half the toll of doing so had fully manifested.

He looked so tired, his eye bags are in the darkest shade it had been since the accident. He looked thinner, not scarily thin, but it was obvious he had lost some weight. His clothes were as neat as it could be. His white button up shirt crisp and so is his black slacks. His black leather shoes are very shiny. He placed a lot of effort in his appearance because even he could tell that his health has waned, and he was compensating with his clothes.

When Raven was in ICU for the first three months, he was in such a bad state. When she finally got relatively cured but was in comatose, he looked better-- more relaxed. Then a little after, he had to continue with his responsibilities, particularly as a hero and somehow, he managed. The weight he had initially lost, he had regained and now he had shed perhaps even more than he did at that time.

But now at almost a year and a half of juggling hero life, personal and family life. Being with Raven almost every day since the night she got hurt. To actively avoid Garfield while Garfield was visiting and arranging his own visits to go around Garfield’s visitation, but also keeping to his schedule and preference of seeing Raven on a very regular basis. And Raven still not waking up—Damian was quite spent.

He was sitting on his chair facing Raven’s right hand. His head propped onto his hands which were propped up on his knees. He was looking at Raven’s face blankly, dark circles under his eyes. He didn’t know how much longer he could do this.

Raven’s state was always at the forefront of his mind. And when he was on a mission, he tried to put it as a lesser priority. But when he is near to death his first thought is: If I die who will look after Raven? And so, he fights with every screaming fiber he had, even when he was in such excruciating pain. After all, he still had to see her wake up.

One would think a year and a half wasn’t really a long time—but it did not feel like it has been just over a year for Damian—it felt like he has been waiting for her to wake up for five years.

He had just realized quite recently, just exactly how much stress he had gotten due to all this. And it was taking a major toll on him. He now completely understood why his family was worried about it—about him. Hindsight after all is 20/20 and he now clearly saw exactly how concerning his state was.

There was only one solution. His eyes flickered to Raven—he had not noticed that his gaze had drifted off of her and was surprised when his eyes laid on her again. He sighed and suddenly stood up, and picked up a lock of her hair.

“Raven, your hair has grown quite a bit—it's already at waist length. I thought of having it cut—but I think that should be your decision.” He placed it back down. “If you don’t wake up any time soon—I’m afraid I would have to let you go.” He mumbled to himself as he turned around to lean on the bed and gaze at the ceiling blankly.

Two weeks after, Damian was back in her room, looking even worse. This time he was just standing beside Raven with a very empty gaze. He had been standing there in his black slacks, black dress shoes and a green button up polo shirt for fifteen minutes already.

“I give up Rae.” He looked down on the ground. His words were so soft because he was very much afraid of the implications himself. He knew he had to let her go.

“I—I don’t think I can visit you like this.” He fought the tears as he said his words a little louder. And there was nothing left to say, he just softly touched her hand for a second and pulled away and then looked at her blankly.

A month after Damian’s decision to let Raven go, he realized getting to the conclusion and acknowledging what had to be done and executing his decisions were two completely different things. He was still visiting her in the same consistency that he always had. And he knew he had to fight to break the habit that he had already formed. Seeing her was second nature to him, and he simply had to break it.

 ~.~.~.~.~

 Two months after, Damian was finally able to decrease his visits. And had even met Garfield a few times and actually didn’t mind it. His visit reduction was not really significant but the fact he was able to decrease it at all, was a win for him.

He was in jeans and a red shirt, looking very casual and he looked more unbothered and not so tired. His hands in his pockets as he just stood. For the first time, he looked genuinely relaxed. His gaze at her was soft and the eyebags he had been sporting in different shades, for almost two years, were significantly less dark this time.

“I know I don’t visit often anymore—and you probably can’t tell—aside from the obvious,” A small twinkle in his eyes at the little joke. The fact that he could make a joke like that, spoke volumes of how far he had come. “You really made me pine over you for the duration you pined over Garfield. Nine years—you really made this whole thing come into full circle. You pined for him for nine years and decided to move on completely—but this happens.” He gestured at her generally.

“Now I have pined for you for the same duration, and I have decided to move on too.” He said grimly and the hint of playfulness he had prior was gone. “It really came full circle.”

He just stood to her right with a small smile. He tried his best not to stay so long to visit her nowadays. Damian found that standing was the best option in order for him not to stay longer than he intended.

Damian puts his hand atop Raven’s, he has also avoided holding her hand properly or else he’d find himself sitting on his spot and just holding her hand. He would then talk to her and the intended short visit would become like his regular visits from before.

“I have decided. I am moving on—I am letting you go.” And he pulled his hand away a little too quickly, afraid of the temptation that was the familiarity of her hand against his—or maybe it was his hand against hers. After all, it was always him holding onto her.

His head had looked away to look at the flowers on her bedside tables. He has been talking to her about visiting her less, and letting her go for a few months now. At first it was just a passing thought. But the last two months, it seemed Damian had to tell her every time he visited. He was unaware of how frequent he was telling her that. But in retrospect, he could tell now that he had been dropping hints.

It started from hints, to telling her absentmindedly, to repeatedly telling her every time he visits—until finally he was able to visit less. And because Damian turned his head, he missed the small twitch of Raven’s hand when he pulled his hand away, to look at her bedside tables.

There was silence, as he looked down and closed his eyes. He squeezed his eyes for a moment then sighed as he looked at Raven, a faint smile on his lips. He took a step back, feeling as though he was leaving his heart on this spot. He then turned feeling lonely yet strong and regretful at the same time.

When he was gone, Raven’s eyebrow twitched.

The next day when Damian decided to check on Raven’s condition, he was frozen in fear to see the scientist and doctors hovering over Raven who was attached to so many monitors and tubes.

It was like he had stepped into the time she was brought in to close up her wound. He was unfrozen when she saw her spasming. He ran towards her, as her chest lifted and she was choking, black almost slime like blood came out from her mouth and spilled from her oxygen mask.

“Sir—we need you out of the way.” A doctor pulled Damian away. “Who let this one in!” The doctor added and a nurse took Damian away, trying to console him.

“This is odd—there seems to be no traces of the compound we found last time. But her body is rejecting something.” Damian heard the doctor say, at that moment Raven’s eyes opened and her line of sight fell on Damian’s instantly. Her hand lifted slowly to his direction; her eyes wet as her face slowly turned red from the lack of oxygen. A doctor had already punctured her lungs to assist her in breathing, but black blood was oozing out from it.

“Let me, the fuck go!” Damian yelled as he strongly shoved the nurse off of him. He was normally someone who didn’t do this, but seeing Raven’s face slowly contort to fear and resignation, he actually went against the nurse. He remembered when she was in ICU for the first few months he observed quietly from the distance, but he couldn’t now.

“Raven!” He called out as he knelt on the floor and held her right hand that she had stretched out. “I promise, I will not leave you. So, you have to fight this!”

She squeezed his hand in hers as best as she could as her eyes closed and a tear slipped from her eye.

“Sir—I’m sorry but you are being a distraction.” A bulky man approached Damian, giving him no choice but to let go of Raven’s hand and put his hands up as he slowly left the room.

“She’s—I heard the subject has powers—” A person in a lab gown said, perhaps a scientist.

“Patient.” A doctor cuts off the scientist.

Before Damian was shoved out of the room, he stole a glance of Raven, her hand was glowing a faint purple black hue. And it seemed that she could breathe.

“Sir—there seems to be something appearing—” And that was the last thing Damian heard before the door was shut close in front of him.

Two weeks later Raven was finally stable but still in a coma. They were fighting with her condition for those two weeks—cross referencing and analyzing data, finding and testing out new information. And everything has now calmed down. He was only allowed entry today after the stunt that he pulled.

Damian was sitting on his chair, holding her hand. He wore a white t-shirt with many creases. His hair is a slightly better case compared to his shirt. And the outfit was complete with a plain pair of jeans and casual shoes. And to top it all off, his eyebags had become darker again.

”You really scared me. God, I forgot how afraid I was of losing you recently—you really know how to make someone remember, huh?” He muttered as he put her hand against his forehead, he was shaking a bit, as he fought his tears. And he felt her hand twitch against his—and he choked as he looked at her face.

Her eyes were still close but for the first time, he actually felt her react. In two years, she finally moved. He smiled tightly and nodded his head. He brought her hand against his lips and softly kissed her hand.

“You reached out to me that night, didn’t you?” He put her hand against his cheek as he turned his head towards her again. “You have to wake up and clarify that to me.” And he heard her loudly inhale.

For the first time in months, he finally had hope that she would wake up. “I promise you; I will wait for you to wake up. This time, I will not break this promise.”

 ~.~.~.~.~

 The door suddenly opened with a panic stricken Damian. He was unable to take off his outer coat and change into cleaner shoes because he heard a crash from generally where Raven’s room was located, on the second floor, when he had just entered the building. 

“Raven!” He called out his fear practically at the base of his throat.

When he heard the loud crash, he feared for the worst. His eyes at first saw an empty bed, and his heart almost jumped out of his chest. The vase on her right bedside table with flowers had shattered on the floor. He quickly searched for Raven, and exhaled deeply when he spotted her at the foot of her bed. She was holding onto her bed with great difficulty. Her eyes observed Damian wearily.

He approached her, thinking that maybe this was a dream.

“Raven.” He whispered when he was two feet away, her violet eyes did not show any recognition at seeing Damian. He picked her up and carried her in his arms, and despite not recognizing him at first, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Damian.” She whispered and he squeezed him back. She rested her forehead on his shoulder, as he carried her back to her bed. He set her down gently as he pulled away, she grabbed his right hand.

“It feels so perfect.” She gently told him, and Damian was startled by her words. A smile slowly formed and he found himself chuckling.

“I’ve been here almost every day, holding your hand. Maybe your hand molded into mine—” He shook his head. "Or maybe the other way around.”

“I—my memory is kind of fuzzy,” Raven said as she laid back in bed. “But I know you, I remember you. I heard you so often. It became scary when you weren’t there.” Her eyes started to flutter, she seemed a little bit too tired. But she continued to hold his hand until she fully fell into slumber, to which her grip loosened.

Damian took the opportunity to call the doctors and scientist to inform them of her condition.

When she awoke again the doctors, scientists and Damian were talking.

  ~.~.~.~.~

 A month after, Raven was already walking by herself inside her room. She started walking around the villa quite recently. But she has not been able to walk outside yet. She found that once the door to go outside the villa was opened, her knees would buckle. So, for the past month she was mostly roaming indoors.

She had found out that this was one of Bruce Wayne’s properties, and Damian had asked for the property. Damian was someone who would never ask anything of anyone if he could do it himself, so it was surprising to everyone that Damian had asked for this villa. And because of that Bruce granted Damian the property, if not for that, in the very least to give Damian some peace of mind. At least then Damian would know Raven had a place to stay and would not be kicked out if he so much as vanished.

She also found out that Damian did not spare any expense in her recuperation and that her situation was quite odd. The creature’s origin could not be quite narrowed down, thus its effects on her were up on the air. But that was where the doctors and scientists and all the tech was for, alien tech included. With the collective resources provided, they were able to make something to assist Raven’s condition.

“Raven, I think you should really try to get out.” Damian said as he walked in. He looked so happy seeing her, just standing by the window gazing out. She turned her head to smile at him.

He looked better—in fact the happiest and relaxed he had ever been in two years. His clothes were pressed well, it was a casual attire, and he had no hint of any kind of weariness. No more eyebags, and his eyes no longer looked so dead.

“If you go with me, I can try.” She responded, she had not seen him in two weeks due to his busy schedule, with the team and talking to her doctors and scientists. Him learning and relearning everything about her condition since she got attacked, and he also had family matters, he didn’t really have time to be with Raven recently and she understood.

She kept herself busy by building her physical strength through walking within the walls of Damian’s villa. She also used the time to comb through her thoughts.

“Okay.” He agreed as he offered her his right hand and she accepted it with both her hands. Until now he couldn’t believe that she was awake.

“I really thought I was dreaming when you woke up a month ago.” He confessed again as he sighed and led her to the door.

“I’m here. Everything is still a bit fuzzy. But I know you—I trust you. Your Damian.” Raven responded unhurriedly as she placed a hand on his arm.

Fifteen minutes later, Damian came in with Raven in his arms weeping.

“I—I can’t… it—it…” And she wept.

“I’m sorry, we will take it step by step. I will be here if you ever want to try and go outside.” He comforted her as he placed her on her bed. She nodded as he wiped away her tears.

“I thought I was going to die—” She sobbed. “There was something I wanted to do… I don’t—” Another sob, “I don’t recall what.”

He held her hands and then she suddenly froze on the spot. She looked at him in the eyes, and she blinked as the tears fell. “I didn’t want to leave you.”

And this time it was his time to freeze on the spot. Raven pulled her hands away from his, and she placed her fingertips on either side of his face.

“I was afraid that I didn’t have enough time with you. I wanted to know you more.” Her vision seemed to go back to that night. “I wanted to be with you.” She absent-mindedly brushed her lips against his. And when the pressure registered in her brain, she pulled away, an apology at the tip of her tongue.

Raven was surprised to feel an even heavier pressure against her lips. And she returned the kiss as well as deepened it. She noted how she was reacting very naturally over the situation, and how inexperienced Damian was. And she pulled away.

“Is this your first kiss?” She asked him. And he looked away with a small blush on his face.

“It’s—I’m very inexperienced with dating…” He admitted, and she observed him as she wiped her tears.

“I’m assuming, I have dated before.” She replied impartially. 

“Yes, Garfield.” He responded blankly, and when the name came off Damian’s mouth, he saw her expression soften. His eye twitched as he looked away. He suddenly felt her hands against his, making him turn to look at her again.

“Gar… field…” She muttered, his hand clenching at the way she called his name. “Was he the only one I dated?” Damian nodded in response.

“I see…” She said with furrowed brows. “My head is aching a bit. I think I should rest…” Raven lets go of Damian’s hands.

“Can we try going outside again tomorrow?” Damian was pulled out from his reverie with the inquiry, surprise in his eyes.

“Of course, I would love that.” She smiled at his response.

“Can you—” She looked at him hesitatingly. “Can you hold my hand when we do?”

He was even more shocked to hear those words, and he smiled as he placed a hand on her cheek. “Of course, Raven.”

“I would like to date you, Damian.” Raven stared at Damian, who just pulled his hand away from her cheek and straightened his posture as he looked away.

“Your memory isn’t like what it was Raven, I think it’s too early to say that.” His response wasn’t something she enjoyed but Raven pressed her lips together and did not push him.

She didn’t recall her love for Garfield at the moment and assuming she would choose Damian when she does recall, would  be too much of wishful thinking on Damian's part.

~.~.~.~.~

 The sun was setting and the white room was filled with an orange hue from the setting sun outside. Raven and Damian had just arrived from walking outside. This time around she was able to stay outside longer without having flashbacks of the night she got stabbed. It was great progress. But she always held Damian as if he was the only remaining lifeboat in an open, turbulent ocean.

Damian and Raven were continuing a pleasant conversation they had outside in her bedroom, when suddenly the door opened.

“Raven!” Garfield came in with such a relieved look on his face, his eyes expectant as he searched for her. Damian and Raven’s happy conversation grew stale as they turned their head to the door.

“Raven!” He called out again when his eyes landed on her but Raven remained in place. “Of course, you wouldn’t tell me she is awake!” Garfield added with a glare to Damian, whose head was casted down.

“Tsk, Greyson.” He muttered, Greyson right behind Garfield but was hidden from Damian’s line of sight. Despite Damian’s head casted down, he took note of Raven’s reaction.

She was still, she stood in place, but Damian could tell, she was so close to running to Garfield and hugging him. And all Damian could do was squeeze his eyes shut, as he inhaled softly while clenching his fists.

Seeing Garfield, Raven felt like her soul from inside her was vibrating with excitement. And yet, at the same time it felt as though a thin layer of frost blanketed her entire body, and it was enough to render her frozen. Despite her deep desire to hug Garfield, her feet were so heavily planted on the floor, that she didn’t even move an inch. Her breathing was shallow and unhurriedly soft, and she just focused on that.

The days had passed so pleasantly after Raven woke up that Damian had thought that he had a place in her heart. But seeing her like this, he knew—Garfield still outweighs him.

“Get out.” Raven said, to which Damian snapped his head to Raven’s direction, who had simply turned her back and walked to the window. “All of you.”

Damian wanted to say something, his fists curling and uncurling by his sides, but he saw her stiff figure with crossed arms as she stubbornly looked outside. He was the last to leave.

He came back a few hours later, to see Raven sitting by the windowsill looking outside.

“He hasn’t left has he?” She whispered hoarsely not looking at who entered. Damian shook his head as he replied, even though she would not see it.

“His downstairs, hoping you’d at least see him.” He got no response, but she tilted her head.

“I didn’t see him leave.” She muttered vacantly.

“I’m here to convince you to eat dinner.” And Raven turned to look at him, a frown on her face.

“Okay,” She sighed. “But you are eating with me.”

Damian was startled at hearing this, a second passed before the words sunk in.

“Alright.” He blinked at her.

“Here.” She added and he told her that he would be back, as he left for a moment to get them their dinner.

When he arrived with food, they sat on a pub table that was added a little after Raven woke up. It could only sit two people, and it was made of some nice honey brown wood. The cushions of the chair are red and its frame is made of the same wood as the table. It was rather small for two people, but they made do.

Raven was vacantly playing with her food while Damian observed her with a frown. He had not yet scolded her for not eating, as he was giving her just a little more time.

With a sigh she said, “It’s odd, when I saw him, it felt like I just realized the world was a puzzle with missing pieces, and his presence just made all the missing pieces appear on it’s designated places. He was familiar, he was someone I knew—love, maybe even… but something didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t want to approach him. And I didn’t want him to approach me.” Damian just listened as she said her piece. 

The two were enveloped in a tranquility that evidently belonged to them, and them alone. They felt secured in each other’s presence and there was no response needed.

 ~.~.~.~.~

 It took Raven three days to be able to even meet Garfield. The sun was setting, and from Raven’s window, one could see Raven talking with Garfield. They were sitting on a bench facing the sunset, their backs facing the window in Raven’s room.

So, it was a given that the two did not see Damian observing them from the window. He did not look upset nor joyful with the scene he was seeing. But once Garfield placed a hand on Raven’s hand, and she tilted her head a bit towards Garfield, you could see Damian’s face slowly turn into unpleasantness.

When the minutes passed, and Garfield nor Raven had not pulled away from one another, his face contorted to wanting to storm out from Raven’s room to standing still and just holding his breath—just hoping and wishing—that she had not chosen Garfield.

But the minutes continued to pass, and Garfield’s hand continued to rest on Raven’s hand. And Raven glanced at him with a smile forming on her lips. And Damian couldn’t help but think that despite Raven having difficulties in leaving the building with him, if it was Garfield with her—of course it would be easier for her to be outside with him-- with Garfield.

And Raven started closing in on the space between her and Garfield, and Damian did not want to see that. So, he turned around quickly, and he stood with his back against them, as he flexed his fists, and sighed. He had hurried to see her; he had gone through the garage so he was unable to see them in the yard. Once he got into her room, and she wasn’t there, Damian absentmindedly walked to the window. That was when he saw her and Garfield together on a bench, looking like lovers.

He wondered how long he stood by the window looking at them. He closed his eyes and sighed again, by the end of the day it was never him. He walked to the door without looking back.

A few days later, Raven is pacing her room anxiously. She had not seen Damian in days, she worried he saw her and Garfield the other day and that was why he was nowhere to be seen. But she wanted to explain to him what he had seen wasn’t what he thought. She had to tell him.

And she could feel the panic go up onto her throat. She sat on her bed, facing the door. She had refused to step out of her room after she talked to Garfield—not without Damian. She could not find the strength to go out of her room after her chat with Garfield.

Raven buried her hands on her face as the tears started to stream from her eyes. All she could see under her closed eyes, was the time—that night, when she reached out for Damian. The pain when that black spike hit her sternum.

She recalled her desire to be with Damian, but right now she felt it so very intensely that she was afraid. She was so afraid that she had lost that chance. And the door opened, and in an instant she was up on her feet with wide eyes. Seeing that it was Damian, she sobbed as she ran towards Damian and tackled him with a hug.

He was startled and it took a moment for him to realize that she was hugging him so tightly. He gently returned her hug.

“I thought you wouldn’t come back. I was so scared.” She wept on the nook of his shoulder, her feet not even touching the floor.

“I’m sorry for worrying you.” He replied softly, and tightened his hold on her as he set her down a bit so that she could touch the floor. They stood like that for a moment.

Raven eventually pulled away and tried to collect her bearings. She wiped her tears and looked at Damian in the eyes. On the other hand, he was wishing she hadn’t pulled away-- maybe that was the only time he could hold her like that. And she reached for his hands and it felt so right.

“When Gar came, and guided me outside, I couldn’t find the strength to step through the door. All I could think about was that I need you. I need you to hold my hand as I step outside. While that night kept flashing through my mind. But he held my hand—and it felt so familiar. And all my fears just vanished.” She looked down on their feet. “And I found myself outside—with him.” There was guilt in her face and on the tone of her voice. And Damian honestly did not want to hear what she had to say next. But she held his hands tighter, making him decide to just keep quiet. A small smile formed on her lips as tears fell and splatter on the floor.

“I forgot the time I was injured, till the time before he held my hands. It felt like I could breathe again.” Damian’s right eye twitched, he wondered what was her point. She suddenly flicked her head to look at him, and he was startled.

“He will always be someone that matters to me, we will always have history. I have loved him for nine years, we shared so many memories—so many firsts. But I do not want to be with him. I want to be with you. And I know I am asking a lot, but if all these don't bother you—I would love it, if you would date me.” But she was greeted with silence. “I want you. I want to be with you.” She softly added, her confidence fading.

“I don’t mind.” He said so softly, but Raven didn’t hear it.

“If that is an issue for you, then I completely understand.” She continued on.

“I don’t mind.” He repeated.

“I know it’s been two years, and that there must have been someone you became interested in. Or maybe you’ve even dated a bit. I know we don’t talk about it, but I get that—” She squeezed her eyes, her tone ready to break in a sob.

“Raven, I want to be with you.” He cupped her cheek and tilted her head towards him. She looked at him with the slightest hint of distrust. “I’ve always wanted to be with you—I waited for you.” He said, being able to say those words felt like such a relief to Damian. And the tears started falling from Raven’s eyes as the distrust was washed away.

“I almost gave up, I admit that.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at her anymore. She cupped both of his cheeks.

“If I were in your place, even I would waver.” She told him, trying to catch his dodging eyes. When she finally was able to lock her eyes with his, she added. “Garfield will always have some meaning to me—his all I have known for nine years, even before sleeping for two years—my history with him is half of my life. I was afraid. I thought he was the only one who could possibly love someone like me—I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. I want my next memories and moments-- with you. And slowly those memories I had, and my history with him, will just be a fraction of my life. I want you. I want every possible milestone with you, Damian.”

He slowly nodded, and when Raven’s eyes registered the nod, he couldn’t help but smile and chuckle. But she looked like she was going to cry out of happiness and disbelieve. This time she has chosen him.

“I never thought this day would happen.” He leaned in to rest his forehead against hers, and a soft smile formed on her lips. And they shared the moment in silence. After a while, Damian talks.

“I was afraid to ask, or open up about this, especially since you were still recuperating—and your memories are fuzzy. But who would have thought you would catch me by surprise and open up the topic yourself?” Raven took the opportunity to plant a kiss on his lips, and he conservatively kissed back to which she deepened the kiss. And she pulled away recalling Damian’s inexperience last time.

“We will take it step by step. I might still remember more about Garfield, and I might get a little confused. But remind me that I chose you since that night.” She leaned her forehead against his, eyes locked with one another. Damian’s eyes flickered with surprise and the confirmation that she chose him that night, made his eyes soften with the acknowledgement. He caressed her face with his thumb.

“I finally caught up to you.” He whispered, a giggle bubbling up on the base of Raven’s throat.

 ~.~.~.~.~

 A few months later, the white sterile room was no longer white nor empty. Raven had flipped the room with Damian’s help and approval. Its walls were now a soft lilac color. The room’s furniture was either accented with white, glass or silver metals. And the ceiling was littered with little crystals, that once the lights were off, would illuminate like stars in different colors. The medical bed swapped for a king sized bed. Her sheets were navy blue and white.

“Raven, are you ready?” Damian’s voice came from outside her open door. She turned in her white fitted dress with the thinnest spaghetti straps. Her long hair that passed her waist was tied into a fishtail braid.

“Of course!” She replied happily, as she ran towards the door, and tackled Damian with a hug and giggled.

“Excited for our brunch?” He teased.

“Absolutely!” She replied without missing a second.

Later that night they were in her bedroom. Damian sat on her bed and she was kneeling over his lap. Raven’s hair slowly unravelling from its braid. Their lips have been intertwined with one another for minutes now. He had one hand on her waist and the other on her thigh, a bit too afraid to rest it on her bum. While her hands were on his neck and on his chest.

Raven broke off the kiss, and started kissing his neck.

“If we’re going too fast, you can tell me.” She muttered in between kisses. But when she did not hear any response, she pulled away to look at him.

“I know Garfield and I had a lot of firsts together, if that bothers you…” Damian broke away from his dazed state and looked at her questioningly.

“I admit, at first it did,” His eyes followed his hand as it traveled from her thigh to her waist which he caressed. “Thinking of how he knows how to please you…” He looked back at her conflicted eyes. “But that just means I have to learn how to please you my way. You two were together for so long—it would be a given that I’m not your first. That is alright. But you are mine.” He admitted a small blush on his face. And she smiled as she kissed his eye and trailed kisses to his jawline. He was being brought back to his dazed state.

“I feel honored.” She whispered in between her kisses. And she playfully bit his ear after. Damian was startled and grabbed her butt and she gasped.

“Then I will take the lead then.” She whispered alluringly by his ear, as her hands travelled under his shirt. Her braid was completely undone at this point, soft black wavy waist length hair cascading  down her head.

 FIN.

 Bonus Scene:

Garfield and Raven were outside on the yard and they had been talking for hours that the sun had finally begun to set.

“You know, when I woke up, I couldn’t find myself to walk out of my room. Eventually, I was able to overcome it. But I found that it was so difficult to step outside the villa. All I could see was that night and being stabbed, and the last person I saw.” Raven confessed and Garfield placed a hand on hers to comfort her.

“But Damian was there, he guided me and stayed with me as we walked outside.” A small smile on her lips. “I always held him like I was in open water and he was the lifeboat. I was afraid of losing him. I mean, I still am. I still hold him so tightly, because I’m afraid that it would be my last chance with him. I thought I was going to die that night, Gar.”

“But when you offered your hand and held me, after you said you knew of my condition—my fear outside.” She glanced at the open area. “I forgot how afraid I was of going outside. It was like my fears these few months were nothing but a phantom. You were always associated with love and happy memories for me. But you and I both know, Gar, we were imperfect. We were destructive. We had become unhappy together for a very long time.” And she glanced at him fully.

“I want to say goodbye.” She finally said, and Garfield looked at her gently as Raven extended her arms to hug him. “I want to start a new romance—with Damian.” She whispered as they embraced one another.

“I wish you two happiness.” Garfield said as he pulled away.

“Yes, thank you.” She looked back at Damian’s villa. “I was so afraid I would lose him, I still do now, it's why I always hold him tightly whenever we go outside.” She looked back at the sunset that was facing them.

“I held on because of him—I’m sure it was him, I could feel his hand and hear him every now and then, until all I knew was his presence.” She mumbled mostly to herself.

 Alternate (timeline) Ending:

 Damian was asleep on the table, and had woken up with a jolt, all teary eyed.

“Damian, what’s wrong?” Raven said as she approached the table.

“I had a dream, you got injured and you were in a coma.” He replied. And he tells her what happened in his dream.

 Alternate’s Alternate Ending: (Reciprocate timeline)

 “I had a dream, you got injured and you were in a coma.” He replied as Raven sat down beside him. She gently places a hand on his, as she smiles softly.

“Damian, that did happen.” She replied unhurriedly.

[74demonking]

Chapter 2

-Kellen-

The sun had not yet risen when Kelln woke the following morning. He had stayed awake late into the night trying to narrow down what it was that was troubling him, yet he was no closer to identifying what it was that had him so vexed. Regardless, he did not wish to put off his visit to Imperium, to this powerful Queen. To have another Hell realm as an ally would be a benefit. If he could at least keep her from coming to war with them, that would be the least he could hope for. Kellen rarely aimed for the least of anything, and that was true in this instance as well.

Grae had been tasked with ensuring that they would be welcomed and procuring the necessary gifts that were customary when dignitaries came on such diplomatic visits. Kellen had no worries that these had both been seen to. At least those items were not ones that he would have to attend to; his focus could be solely on the new Queen and ensuring that the first impression was perfect. For her to have assumed the throne and subjugated both of the powerful males she had, she had to be quite the female. That made her a female Kellen was very interested in.

Kellen selected his black suit carefully, along with the fur trimmed cape that would go over it. Refined in its cut and fit, but exuded power in the intricate embroidery that decorated the front. Once clothing was set aside, Kellen started his grooming, his almost black eyes carefully studying every small detail about himself in the mirror as he did. Nothing was too small to escape his notice this morning, this meeting was too important of a meeting. He would not let anything go wrong with it. Not. One. Thing.

-Grae-

The velvet box sat on his desk. The gift had been carefully chosen by one of the courtesans whom he implicitly trusted. As always, he had been entrusted with procuring the gift to be presented, and for some reason he had gotten the impression that Kellen wanted to particularly impress the Queen that they were going to visit. Maybe the King had decided to give up his lecherous ways? There was always hope. It would certainly make life easier. However, from what he had heard of Queen Gabrielle, she was not an easy nor meek woman. Grae already liked her.

He had heard from a fae that Kellen was dressing in his customary black, so Grae dressed to match in a black morning coat, vest, and trousers. A black ascot was tied formally at the neck of his shirt and secured with a diamond pin. Formal, but not so much so as to outshine the King. Grae liked his head on his shoulders and wanted to keep it there.

Before going to meet Kellen, Grae raised the lid of the velvet box. The courtesan had done wonderfully, the piece was perfect. Before sending her on the task, Grae had been able to make some discreet inquiries of those who had met the Queen and discovered that she was more of a warrior Queen than a prissy one, something he was still looking forward to seeing Kellen handle. Rarely was she seen in gowns when not receiving formal guests or hosting formal functions; more often than not, she was in fighting leathers and could almost be mistaken for one of her legion, if it were not for her height, which was diminutive. It was based on that he had given instructions to the courtesan to find something unique, not overly flashy, and something that would represent their realm more than impress with the value.

Within the box lay a necklace, the center of which was crescent moon shaped, the points facing upwards. A large oval cabochon of Uffernium Opal was in the center, two smaller circular cabochons on either side more towards the points of the crescent. There were no other stones, and the metal was silver rather than golden colored. If the Queen was anything like her reputation, then this would be much more to the female’s liking than the normal diamond encrusted gaudy pieces that they had bequeathed in the past.

-Kellen-

Kellen had just finished dressing and having his groomsman gnome adjust all the details of his outfit when there was a knock at his chamber door. He was sure it was Grae so he called for him to enter. It was getting close to the time they were to go to Imperium, and while he would have liked to go earlier, he also knew that showing up too early would not give the correct impression either.

“Let me see it,” Kellen ordered when he saw the deep burgundy velvet box that Grae bore. He was anxious to not only know what had been chosen, but also to know how the Queen would receive it.

When Grae lifted the lid, Kellen’s brows knit together in confusion. Surely this was not what his top advisor had decided was what should be given to the Queen. It would not fit her station! It would be an insult and embarrass him. What could Grae have been thinking?

“Is this a joke? Something to break the mood because you know I am unusually tense regarding this visit?” Kellen asked, trying not to swat away the dark fae that was putting the last touches on his jacket. His expression was one of clear displeasure and his voice was the exclamation mark on that.

-Grae-

So, it was clear the King had not done his homework. It was a good thing he had, but why Kellen hadn’t confused him. For some reason this visit seemed to mean more to the King than others that they went on purely for diplomatic or curiosity reasons. Grae found it hard to understand why then Kellen wouldn’t have asked about the Queen and known that the normal gifts would not be her style.

“No, it is not a joke.” Grae watched Kellen’s features darken, as well as the room slightly, at his response. He continued undaunted, “however, in my inquiries regarding Queen Gabrielle, the normal jewel and diamond encrusted pieces would not be to her liking. She rarely is seen in a gown or with her tiara on. More often she is in leathers, or human clothes and with her guard or the other Horsemen. In truth, I was more inclined to give her a blade than jewelry, but was not sure I’d survive your reaction to seeing that. The gift is for this woman to appreciate that you have looked into who she is, or at least for me to have since you did not know what I did.” The last dig was possibly a bit much since Kellen’s features were still clouded with confusion, but since the darkness had lifted from the room, Grae was pretty sure he was no longer about to kill him.

-Kellen-

“I thought that to be all rumor, or that when she ascended to the throne that had changed. I did not consider that it would not have.” Kellen’s eyes remained on the piece; a piece that was perfect for the woman it was intended for, Grae had done well. He, however, had not and it bothered him that his advisor had interpreted the intel they had received better than he had.

“I was wrong, this is the perfect gift.” His eyes rose from the necklace to look at Grae, “and skipping the blade was a smart move. Giving her a blade at first meeting might be a bit presumptive. We might save that for the second meeting.” His expression softened and he gave a slightly weary smile. Now he was more troubled than before. It was not like him to mess up. He could not ruin this.

“Grae, what is wrong with me?” He demanded finally. When his advisor looked at him warily and confused he continued, “I was up late into the night. Something is nagging at me about this visit. And now, you have better judged someone that we are going to meet than I have. So, I ask again, what is wrong with me?”

-Grae-

“Leave us.” Grae’s chin rose definitely and an air of authority came to his voice. The two fae flitting about putting the finishing touches on both of them exited the room quickly. A wave of Kellen’s hands and the doors closed and were locked so that no one could come in.

“You are afraid you might finally meet your equal.” For the first time in their long friendship and working relationship, Grae saw surprise on Kellen’s face. “Come now, you must have realized it, Kellen.”

Grae closed the velvet box and set it on a nearby table then turned back to his friend to talk. “There are few beings in creation that have the same type of power as you, most of them male. I’m not sure we’ve run into a female that has even been close, outside of the Greeks and you’ve pissed all of them off. But, Gabrielle, she could be and I think you don’t know how to handle that.” He was frank with his friend. He’d wondered how Kellen would handle it. Not well would be the answer.

-Kellen-

Kellen scoffed and turned away. “Don’t be absurd.” But Grae wasn’t, and that is what bothered Kellen more than anything. It was quite possible he was right. Then what would happen? What if she was as powerful as he? Or, if she was more powerful? Was that what had been nagging at him?

He began to pace, his fists clenching and unclenching as he did. Grae smartly stayed off to the side and observed. “If she is as powerful then we must secure her as an ally. We have a war already Grae and I cannot support one if she can bring to bear the kind of power I can. If she would stand at our side, well that would give us a tactical advantage. Yes, it would help us greatly and increase our standing in the realms.” Kellen nodded, starting to resolve things in his head.

-Grae-

“And if she is as beautiful as they say?” Grae brought Kellen to a full stop with one sentence. Had his friend really not considered that, or worse not gotten that intel from whoever was providing it to him?

“Powerful and beautiful. You are going to tell me that you haven’t even considered that, my KING?” Now he was prodding Kellen to see how the other male would react. If Gabrielle was powerful and Kellen was going to be playing a romantic game with her, it could lead them to complete ruin.

-Kellen-

His back was to Grae, but Kellen didn’t need to be facing him to know the look on his face and why he’d asked the question. “Then she will be as beautiful as they say.” He was lying to both of them and he knew it.

Turning, he faced Grae. “We are not going there in order to romance her, if that is what you are thinking.” It was true, it was not the reason for the visit. What he didn’t say was that if she lived up to everything that he’d heard about her that romancing her would be a pleasure, and one he would take very seriously. However, whether the petite woman he’d heard so much about was worth all of the praise that had been heaped upon her was still yet to be seen, and Kellen was skeptical.

“We are going there to find out exactly who and what she is. I’m also hoping to see Lucifer and Abbadon on leashes.” A smirk came to Kellen’s lips as he considered even the thought of that, not that he could get lucky enough to see either male in that position. “And we’re also going to make sure that she knows the power that resides within Uffern as well.” Kellen’s face sombered. “If she is not as powerful as they say, then we don’t want her thinking that her badass reputation gives her the right to try to come in here and boss us around. I believe it is now time, let us go and see exactly who this Queen Gabrielle is.”

@74hybridangel

@kellencythraul

[softyoongiionly]

(Sugar Plum) Fairy Lights🎡

It’s New Year’s Eve but, Yoongi doesn’t feel like waiting til midnight to kiss you. 

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Smut, a wee bit of fluff at the end.

Word Count: 9.8k

Warnings: okay I know I say explicit smut alot but, this one is EXTRA explicit (18+ only plz), language, BDSM  (proceed with caution)

***Bold sections of text indicate a flashback, all bold phrases indicate when Yoongi is speaking Korean***

Based on: this ask x and, also a big thank you to @me-trash-tbh​ for showing me these pictures.

A/N: Happy New Year >:)

Back to the masterlist! (click here)

Yoongi is feeling good.

He’s ringing in the new year in the best way he can possibly think of:

Good food, good company, good alcohol and-

Holy shit.

Is that, is that really his girlfriend?

Like, HIS girlfriend? Walking through the door, dressed to the nines?

Your presence is noticed by the other guests in his home, some of their gazes lingering a little too long for his liking.  

He knows the whiskey Hoseok bought was good shit but, he’s still sober enough to discern whether or not he’s dreaming.

However, as soon as you walk through the door, he isn’t quite sure anymore.

It’s New Year’s Eve so, naturally you had opted for a sparkly outfit but, you’d be lying if you didn’t purposely opt for a number that would mess with Yoongi’s heartbeat a little bit.

Or, at least, you hoped it would.

The dress is simple: black glittery material, deep v-neck, long sleeves; it isn’t anything spectacular but, you did take an extra hour to properly do your hair and, apply a full face of makeup.  

The detail that has Yoongi all kinds of flustered however, is the necklace hanging between your breasts.

It’s a silver necklace with diamond studded letters that read ‘Agust D’ hanging in the center of the chain.

You smile, waving at a few mutual friends convening over by the beer pong table before Namjoon quickly ushers you towards the living room.

Yoongi hasn’t feel this way in a long time.  

After dating you for nearly six months, he’s found that he doesn’t get nervous around you as much as he used to. You still fluster him sure but, he isn’t constantly worried about saying or doing the wrong thing anymore. He isn’t stumbling over his words as much either but, right now, he is practically frozen in place.  

Whilst talking to Namjoon, you finally look up to spot him, standing by the kitchen counter.

He looks hot with a glass of whiskey in his hand and, although his outfit is simple, a white t-shirt tucked into some black jeans, it’s adding to your desire to get your hands on him.  

“Ah there he is, Hyung!” Namjoon smiles, his dimples poking out, blissfully unaware of the sexual tension brewing between you and your boyfriend. “Look who’s here.”

Yoongi jerks his head in acknowledgement, playing it cool as he sets his glass down on the countertop.

“Did you bring more whiskey?” He jests but, you know the look in his eyes and, you know he’s checking you out.

“No, I figured you’d be drunk enough already,” You smirk, “since you’re such a lightweight these days.”  

Yoongi smiles then, gums and all; he loves how much you play along with his teasing.

“I could drink anybody in this house under the table; you’re the one you got hammered off two jack and cokes last month.”

With a roll of your eyes and a smile threatening your lips, you ignore his last comment, mainly because he isn’t wrong and, you don’t have a comeback prepared, “I thought you said he was in a good mood…”

Your comment is directed towards Namjoon, who is currently smirking fondly beside you; he enjoys seeing the two of you together; especially because, after a number of late night talks with Yoongi, he’s come to discover how much Yoongi loves you.

“This is him being in a good mood. You should know this by now.” He chuckles before his face turns up as someone calls his name, “I gotta get back to hosting” Namjoon glances between the two of you, “You two play nice. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Namjoon squeezes your arm gently as he walks back into the crowd of party goers, leaving you alone with your feisty boyfriend.

You step towards him, itching to smooth your hands over the planes of his chest, itching to kiss his clever mouth…

But you don’t, you know what he’s playing at.

He tries to resist you from time to time, pulling back to see if you’ll chase him.

It’s all for fun though and, you know that.

Because, it’s secretly a way to get what he wants.

“Do you like my dress?” You venture, trying to wiggle your way through his demeanor, tilting your head to the side.

Yoongi’s eyes flicker over your body momentarily before, he shrugs, “It’s sparkly...”

Your eyes narrow at him and, although you know he’s messing around with you, you feel a little discouraged by his reaction. Several hours were spent in an effort to look your best for the evening and, all he has to say is ‘its sparkly’ ????

Yoongi takes another sip of whisky, his tongue poking out soon after to collect the amber liquid lingering on his lips.

They’re wet and inviting, his cheeks are flushed from the liquor and, given that you haven’t seen him in a week, you’re aching to feel his lips against yours.

“I thought of getting this silver one that had a bunch of rhinestones on it but, it was too itchy. I like black better anyway…”

Yoongi nods, a smirk lingering on his lips, “So do I.”

Your boyfriend is a stubborn man and, while he may be capable of restraining himself, you know for a fact that he won’t resist affection.

He plays this game from time to time but, he should know by know that you’re much better at it.

So, you make the first move by closing the space between you, sliding your hands over his waist, allowing your nails to brush lightly against his back.

“You look good in white…” You murmur, allowing your fingertips to caress his skin through the thin material.

He clears his throat, glancing away from you momentarily, raising the glass to his lips again for another drink.

Before he can articulate a response, you interject, “Can I have some?”

With your question, you usher his lips down to yours, capturing the taste of whiskey on your tongue.

Yoongi tries and fails to control the shudder that moves through his body and, his plans to play hard to get are slowly but surely going down the drain.

His lips are so soft, moving timidly against your own, his eyes fluttering shut as the sensation of kissing messes with his sobriety more than whiskey ever could.

“Thanks.” You say, pulling back from his mouth, “I see you’re in a mood tonight and, we can keep playing this game if you want to but, I just want to warn you,” Smoothing your thumb over his lips, you tilt his face down towards yours, “I’m much better at it than you are…”

He finally smirks again, his teeth quickly securing your thumb between them, his feline-like eyes  locking with yours, “You think I don’t know that?”

You return his smirk, keeping your thumb in his mouth as you respond, “You’re acting like you don’t. But that’s fine. I did think maybe you’d appreciate my outfit a little more though, considering the fact that I wore your name around my neck.”

You take your thumb out of his mouth, keeping eye contact with him as you bring it to your lips, suckling on the end of it.

Yoongi follows the motions of your lips, sighing out shakily as you suck on your thumb. He feels his dick stir between his legs but, he controls himself, he doesn’t want the game to end so quickly. Although, he feels a little bad at the thought of not appreciating you, he doesn’t want to give up.

Not yet at least.

“I like the necklace a lot. Did you have it made?” He sips his whiskey, doing his best not to address the rest of your comment.

You nod, fingertips brushing over the silver chain, “Mhm. What are you drinking?”

“Hibiki.” His accent peaks out as he pronounces the word, “it’s a Japanese whiskey. It’s one of my favorites.” He nods towards the bottles of liquor arranged neatly on the counter, “Do you want a drink? There’s a drink called a Black Ship I think you’d like.”

“Sure.” You smile, shoving down the small amount of offense you’re beginning to feel at Yoongi’s indifference.

To be fair, you always have the upper hand when it comes to seduction. With a brush of your hand, Yoongi will fall to his knees for you. You know nothing has changed, you know he still wants you.

But tonight, he wants you in a different way.

Tonight, he wants you in the worst way.

This desire has been brewing for quite some time whilst you and Yoongi have continued to explore your sexual interests. You’ve been having sex for a while but, given your equally busy schedules, you don’t actually have sex often, maybe once or twice a week.

Before Yoongi met you, that would be enough. He didn’t find himself extremely interested in sex the way his friends were. Sure, he liked it and, he’s slept with a hand full of people but, he didn’t consider himself a sexual person.

That is, until he met you.

You awakened something in him and, through your sex life, Yoongi has discovered a lot about himself that he didn’t know.

He was never submissive with any of his previous partners. For the most part, he was always expected to take the lead and, yeah he liked being on top sometimes but, he always longed to be taken care of.

Lucky for him, he found the girl of his dreams who does just that.

However, Yoongi’s come to realize that he possesses darker desires too…

He knew that after the first time the two of you had sex in his studio; it was the first time he ever fully submitted to you.

That was months ago and, the two of you haven’t fully breached that territory since then.

Yoongi’s a collected and careful man. He doesn’t act on his impulses so, when he started to feel that kind of desire tugging at his loins, he consulted someone who he could trust with this kind of information.

Someone who’s knowledge is infinite.

Someone who’s well versed in the language of perversion.

“Nothing you’re going to tell me will shock me hyung. I promise…”

On a drunken Saturday night, a little over a week ago, Yoongi had finally spilled his desires to Namjoon.

Yoongi knew of Namjoon’s sexual appetite as it started blooming when the two of them were in high school.

“I’m not sure about that.” Yoongi had mumbled, feeling self-conscious at confiding in his dongsaeng

Namjoon smirked, leaning back in the lawn chair, taking another sip of beer, “Do you ever wonder why I usually stay at Dani’s place? Instead of bringing her back here?”

“Not really no-“

He cut Yoongi off, “Because I only get to see her once a week and, when I see her, I make sure I give her something to think about until I can see her again.” His smirk didn’t falter, “and if I did that here, you guys wouldn’t get any sleep.”

Yoongi grimaced and shrunk into his chair at the vulgar tone of Namjoon’s  voice, “That’s disgusting.”

Namjoon laughed as he shook his head, “Sex isn’t disgusting hyung. It’s an amazing thing and, if you’re honest with yourself,” He shoots a pointed look Yoongi’s way, “it can heal your soul.”

At this, Yoongi had rolled his eyes.

Namjoon could be ridiculous at times.

He had finally found time to date and, according to him, he had met an amazing girl named Danielle whilst he was studying at a café.

They had only been dating for a few months but, Namjoon swore he was already in love.

“I don’t think sex is disgusting…”

“Then what is it? I’ve never heard any complaints from you about the way you and Y/N_” He paused, searching for the right word before Yoongi interjected.

“Fuck?”

Namjoon’s smirked quickly returned as he nodded, impressed with Yoongi’s choice of words.

“That’s because there isn’t anything to complain about. It’s the best I’ve ever had, it’s probably the best anyone has ever had.”

Namjoon resisted the urge to argue with him, “Then what’s wrong?”

“I want more.”

“More sex? Or more out of sex?”

Yoongi sighed, frustrated by his inability to express himself, “Neither. I-“ He chewed on his lip, his gaze shifting around the back patio, “A few months ago, she came to my studio and, we ended up having sex but, it was like…rough and, it made me feel-“ He trails off, gnawing on the inside of his cheek, searching for the right words to say, “it was just really amazing. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“So you want to be rougher with her? That isn’t weird at all hyung, Dani and I do that all the time. We just have open discussions about it to-“

“No no,” Yoongi interjected, “I want her to be rougher with me Namjoon.”

Realization had flurried over his face as Namjoon’s smirk threatened his mouth once again.

“You want to be submissive.” He clarified, chuckling when his normally confident hyung shifted in his seat.

“I was that night and, I guess I am a lot of the time but, not to the extent I’d like to be.”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t know.” He groaned. “She choked me and, scratched me and, the way she spoke to me, I was…I was in heaven Namjoon. I’m just being honest, I’m sorry if this is perverted but, you asked me what I wanted and-“

“Hyung,” Namjoon chuckles, a dark glint in his eyes, “The other night, I tied Dani to her kitchen chair and teased her for so long that when I finally let her out of the chair, she got on her hands and knees and kissed my feet, begging me to fuck her.”

Yoongi’s mouth went dry at Namjoon’s confession but, he shouldered on, nodding in consideration, “Yeah see, I want to be Dani in that situation.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that hyung, we all have our preferences. I didn’t peg Y/N for the dominant type though...she seems so laid back.” Namjoon caught the irony immediately, “Not that that matters but, I’m guessing she’s difficult to rile up.”

Yoongi nodded, “I don’t want to rile her up for the wrong reasons and, I don’t want her to feel like she needs to serve me or, do anything just because I want her to.”

“What happened that night at your studio? What made it escalate?”

He thought for a moment, “I had locked myself in the studio during my composition project. I asked her to come by because, I was feeling really overwhelmed and, then we started kissing and…then I asked her to take care of me, to make me forget.”

“Ah,” Namjoon nods in understanding, “I see. People are dominant for their own reasons, some people like it for the power and control but, some people like, Y/N, like it because it gives them a chance to nurture their partner. What do you like about it?”

“Namjoon” Yoongi groaned but, Namjoon just looked at him expectantly, not letting him off the hook, “I like letting someone take control of me. I feel tense a lot of time but, I’ve never felt more at peace than after her and I did that. I kind of felt high? If that even makes sense.”

“Oh it definitely makes sense. You probably went into subspace if it got intense enough.”

“Subspace?” Yoongi’s brows furrowed

“Yeah, its like this intense feeling you get before or during sex that involves some level of bdsm. It’s the sympathetic nervous system’s response to the mix of pain and pleasure. According to Dani, it can be pretty overwhelming, she gets really soft and, sweet…” Namjoon’s pupils went out of focus for a second as he thought of his girlfriend before he quickly shakes his head, “I’m not gonna go into detail, cause...that’s for my eyes only but, uh it sounds like you experienced something similar.”

“Thanks yeah, I don’t want to know anymore...” Yoongi grumbled

Namjoon just chuckled again, finishing the rest of his beer before continuing, “Look hyung, I’m gonna be honest with you, if you want to bring out that side of Y/N maybe you need to give her a reason to rough you up a little bit. As someone’s Dom, I know how important it is to have a balance of sweet and sour, or pain and pleasure for instance. It’s what she likes, it’s what I like, it makes it all the more intense and enjoyable for the both of us. It sounds to me like you want to be roughed up a little bit and, in order to get that, you might have to give Y/N a reason to...”

Yoongi pondered this for a second and, although he wants to come up with a smart ass response, he can’t help but concede, “I don’t want to make her mad on purpose though, that seems manipulative.”

Namjoon shook his head, “It’s not like that, it’s all for fun obviously. I’m not suggesting you do something to make her mad. It’s like cat and mouse but, I guess in your case its like cat and...cat.” Namjoon’s brows furrowed as the alcohol begins to hit his system and, Yoongi chuckled fondly in response.

“Cat and cat...got it.” He smirks, “Thanks. I’ll keep it mind and, uh I guess, don’t be surprised if I disappear during the New Years Party.”

That was the end of the conversation and the main inspiration behind Yoongi’s behavior tonight.

You’re sitting on the barstool as he makes your drink, admiring the way his nimble fingers screw and unscrew the caps on the various bottles of liquor and juice.

“What’s in this drink that you’re making me?” You inquire, resting your chin against the palm of your hand.

“Hibiki,” He nods to the bottle of whiskey sitting on the counter, “pomegranate juice, port,” Yoongi holds up a large bottle of red wine, “which is like a sweet red wine and, a little bit of lemon juice.”

You nod in consideration, your eyes still lingering on the movements of his hands as they push the cap of the martini shaker on.

Yoongi licks his lips, glancing down at you before beginning to shaking the drink mix around a few times. As he concludes, he grabs a martini glass from the counter behind him and pours the amber liquid into its confines.

He’s quick to grab half of the lemon he juiced, using a pairing knife to slice off a bit of the peel and, plopping that into your drink.

“Garnish with a lemon twist.” He finishes, sliding the drink towards you, “I don’t have the patience to make lemon twists right now but, let me know if you like it.”

You giggle at his comment, taking the glass in your hands and, quickly bringing it to your lips.

The drink isn’t something you’d normally go for but, its fantastic: Smooth and fruity, with a hint of woodsy notes from the whiskey.

It reminds you of Yoongi.

“It’s really good actually, this isn’t something I’d normally order but, the flavor is amazing.”

Yoongi smiles, letting a bit of his normal demeanor show through.

He can’t resist your approval no matter how hard he tries.

“Let me know if you want another one in a bit.” Yoongi puts some of the liquor away and, grabs his glass to splash a bit more whiskey in it.

You sip your drink for a moment as your eyes narrow at your boyfriend, “Is everything ok?”

Yoongi’s face turns up in curiosity, “Yeah of course, why wouldn’t it be?”

“I mean, I don’t know, we haven’t seen each other in a week...I guess I just thought you’d be like, excited to see me or something.” You throw a smirk his way, trying to appear playful despite your actual concern.

Yoongi does play this game from time to time but, usually a kiss from you will break him down a little bit but, he doesn’t seem phased at all.

“Who says I’m not excited to see you?” He retorts, making his way around the counter, eyeing you in the process.

“No one said that but, I don’t know,” Your teeth nibble on your bottom lip as you set your drink down, “I spent a long time getting ready for you...you didn’t even say anything.”

Fuck.

This isn’t going Yoongi’s way at all.

Because now, he feels like the world’s shittiest boyfriend.

Of course he noticed your outfit, your hair, your makeup, the fucking necklace.

Of course he thought you looked absolutely incredible but, he was trying to be cool...he was trying to rile you up...

Did he do it wrong?

Was Namjoon wrong?

Fuck he was wasn’t he?

Damnit Namjoon.

“Shit...” He abandons his drink on the granite, moving closer to you to tilt your chin up towards him, “I’m so sorry. You look unbelievable.” He places a few gentle kisses against your lips, feeling like a proper idiot, “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I was just trying to be like...I talked to Namjoon and, he said if I wanted you to be dominant, I should misbehave or something. Fuck, this sounds so immature I’m sorry.”

Poor Yoongi, he really should be more careful shouldn’t he?

“What was that?” You pull back from his lips, mock innocence on your face, “Namjoon said what now?”

Yoongi’s words get caught in his throat at your tone.

It’s not your normal tone; it’s that tone.

“I...uh” He doesn’t move away from you, “he said that- um...” Yoongi’s voice trails off as he feels your hand slowly sliding up his t-shirt, “He said if I wanted you to be dominant again, I should be a brat or something, I can’t remember. It was a dumb idea.”

“Oh? So is that what you’ve been after then?” You coo, tilting your head as your fingers inch towards his neck. Thankfully, the kitchen is all but abandoned for now but, you’re wary of the fact that someone could walk in at any time, “You want to me to take control of you?”

Yoongi is trying his best to reign in his reaction to you but, he can’t help the way his body arches towards your touch.

“Ye-yeah...” He whispers, wetting his lips with his tongue, his nipples growing stiff beneath his t-shirt.

“Ask me nicely.” You order, letting your fingertips ghost over the base of his neck.

“I don’t even know what I’m asking for anymore, I just want you.” He confesses, wishing to feel your grip around his neck.

“But I didn’t bring any whiskey with me?” You tease, squeezing gently around his adams apple.

Yoongi shakes his head, his eyes widening in an attempt to plead with you, “I don’t care, I was just being stupid.”

“If you wanted this, all you had to do was ask Yoongi, I always reward you when you’re honest don’t I?” You move from your seat, grabbing the neck of the Hibiki bottle, “But you weren’t honest tonight were you?”

“No.” He answers immediately, his adams apple bobbing in his throat, “I wasn’t.”

“What do you think should happen to you now?” You inquire, brows rising as you pull his gaze towards you.

And he surprises you when his lips turn up in a half smirk, eagerness flooding his eyes, “I should be punished, for being dishonest to you.”

“Take me to your room.” You order, returning his smirk and, Yoongi’s response is immediate as he interlaces his fingers with your own, tugging you towards his bedroom.

As soon as Yoongi shuts the door, you push his back against it, your hand quickly taking its place around his neck. His gasp is swallowed by your mouth, the two of you kissing feverishly against the wood. Apart from the rainbow colored Christmas lights adorning Yoongi’s bed frame, his room is almost completely dark.

Under that subtle glow, you kiss your pliant boyfriend with everything you have. For the moment, you indulge him, suckling at his lips, slowly moving your tongue against his.

You kiss him like he’s about to get laid, despite the fact that his orgasm has yet to be earned.

“What’s your safe word?” You whisper against his lips, using your free hand to tease over the waistband of his jeans.

“Dragon.” He whispers, leaning into your mouth, desperate to continue your kiss.

With a smirk, you connect with his lips once again but, this time you allow your fingers to untuck his t-shirt from the waistband of his jeans. As the material unfurls, you sneak your hands beneath it and, run your nails over the tender skin of his lower stomach.

Yoongi has a thing for your nails; whether they dig in to leave aggravated red marks on his body or they tickle against him like they are now, he’s addicted to the way they feel.

Yoongi curses into your mouth, bracing himself against his door, “I love when you touch me like this.”

You say nothing but, the smirk returns to your lips as you take the time to deepen the kiss. You pull out all the stops, suckling and nibbling on his bottom lip, nudging his nose, playing with his tongue. Yoongi feels his dick grow in the tight confines of his jeans and, he suddenly wonders what exactly he’s got himself into. This kiss is turning him on so much, he can’t imagine the agony he’s about to endure whilst waiting to be inside of you.

The two of you kiss at his door for quite some time, longer than Yoongi expects. He doesn’t mind, he could kiss you forever but, the vibe that had been blooming between you, lead him to think you were going to pull him to his bedroom and punish him.

Maybe you’ve changed your mind?

“I’m glad you love it…” You finally murmur against his lips, pecking at the bottom one, “Cause it’s all you’re going to feel for awhile.”

He knows it’s a threat but, he can’t help the excitement swimming through his veins.

“Arms up.”

He obliges immediately, raising his arms above his head, his shirt lifting up as he does, exposing his lower stomach.

You take advantage of that, sinking to your knees, taking Yoongi’s breath away when you do.

Pushing his shirt up, you start placing wet sloppy kisses against the softness of his belly, nibbling at his hip bones, trailing your lips all over the small patch of skin.

Yoongi’s eyes widen, his mouth parting in awe as he watches you.

“Take your shirt off.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, his fingertips grasp at the white material, pulling it off his body in a matter of seconds. As his arms start to come back down, he hesitates, “D-Do you still want my arms up?”

“Hm,” You muse, eyeing each of them as they stay stagnant beside him, “let me see your hand first.”

Yoongi offers it to you and, its then you notice that he’s trembling, the observation stirs something wick inside of you.

He’s going to be doing a lot of that tonight.

You take his hand between both of yours and, starting at his thumb you take each of his long fingers in your mouth, sucking them from the base all the way to his bitten nail bed.

Unstable breaths rush out of his nose as he regards you with an awestruck stare.

Without any mercy, you take his other hand, repeating the same motions, slowing down your pace slightly.

Yoongi’s gnawing on his bottom lip now, breaking the delicate skin with his teeth. His freshly dyed black hair is falling in his eyes, deepening the darkness looming in them.

“You’re wishing this was something else aren’t you?”

He nods, his lip still in his mouth as he watches you.

“What?” You urge him, dropping his hand and, leaning in towards the button his jeans.

Yoongi’s voice is unstable now as he’s so turned on; he’s having trouble thinking clearly.

“My dick.”

His voice is so hot right now, raspy and uncontrolled, his accent peeking through.

Once he answers, you pop open the button and, slowly unzip his pants, tugging them all the way down to his ankles.

“Step out of them…”

Yoongi’s black boxers are warped around his erection, which is standing painfully away from his hips, his jeans pushed to the side.

Starting at his ankles, you begin running your nails up his skin. As you get to his inner thighs, your fingers begin tickling over the sensitive flesh, ghosting up to tease underneath the legs of his boxers.

His pretty lips part whilst an aching breath leaves his throat.

You smooth your fingertips over the black cotton and, at first you’re careful to avoid his length until you decide to use your mouth to kiss at him through his underwear.

It causes his eyes to squeeze shut and his head to tilt back against the door.

You take the time to admire the way his throat strains due to his clenching jaw before you finally pull his boxers off. Your lips quickly find his length, brushing against it, allowing your tongue to curl around his dripping tip.

“Wh-“ The sound rustles past your boyfriends lips, as if he’s in shock.

He doesn’t expect you to have your mouth on him so soon and, he’s a little confused if he’s being honest but, as soon he feels you suck on his tip, his confusion quickly becomes irrelevant.

Keeping your eyes on him, your cheek hollow out as you work your mouth over his dick, using your right hand to stroke what doesn’t fit between your lips.

Yoongi’s eyes open immediately, rushing to meet your own, his hips twitching at the pleasure you’re providing.

“I-“ He breathes, his eyes lulling as you increase your pace on him, “is this my p-punishment?”

You smirk as best as you can around his length, your free hand coming up to brush against his tight balls. Your tongue caresses against the sweet spot on his tip, causing an almost inaudible whimper to bubbles past his lips.

You’re doing everything he likes.

Everything you’d normally do to make him cum really hard.

He doesn’t understand, he thought he was in trouble.

But, he doesn’t feel like he’s in trouble.

Your silence unnerves him however and, the motions of your mouth are becoming more and more devastating.

Still pumping his length, you focus your attention on his balls now, licking over them, suckling at the tightening skin whilst your fist curves around his tip, squeezing gently as you increase your pace on it.

“Y/N…” Yoongi’s shaky voice warns, his upper body bending towards your mouth, the pleasure punching a hole through his stomach, “you’re gonna make me cum.”

And that right there is exactly what you were waiting for.

Your motions cease then and, you pull back to look up at your boyfriend to finally reveal your true intentions.

“I am going to make you cum,” You agree, kitten licking at his weeping slit, delighting at the shiver it causes, “when I feel like it.”

Yoongi is in the loop now.

This most certainly is a punishment and, it’s only just begun.

All he can do is try to control his breathing as his impending orgasm quickly fades from view.

He can feel the sweat gathering at the back of his neck as he tries to anticipate your next move.

Before he has time to get his bearings, your lips are back on him, setting the same devastating pace all over again, caressing his balls just the way he likes.

“Shit,” He chokes, his body lurching forward, his hips jerking at their own accord. “,that feels so good.”

He’s saying it because he’s only capable of being candid at the moment, all sense of sense is completely out the window.

“Mhm,” You moan around his length, sucking off until your lips are brushing at the tip again, “it would feel so good to cum wouldn’t it?”

All he can do is nod, his teeth taking their place back against his bottom lip, which is already raw from his previous motions.

“But you don’t get to cum do you?”

He shakes his head, agony flashing through his dark eyes.

“And why is that?”

Your question is paired with a slow lick up his dick and, a gentle squeeze of his balls.

Yoongi’s expression shifts to one of sincerity, “Because I wasn’t honest with you and, I didn’t express myself.”

You pull away completely now, your eyes flickering towards his bed, “Go stand next to your bed and, face away from me.”

He looks confused but, he obeys you without question, rushing over to stand where you’ve indicated, facing away from you.

Standing behind him, your nails come into play again, brushing against his hips, trailing up his ribcage to circle around his painfully hard nipples.

As soon as he feels you, he melts back against your body, eyes shut mouth parted; completely surrendered to you.

“You hurt my feelings Yoongi.” You whisper against the crook of his neck, brushing your lips there. “I thought I was losing my touch or something.”

You can almost taste his cologne and, for a split second you want to end the torture but, you know it will be worth it for the both of you in the end.

Your boyfriend opens his eyes, regret painting his features as he tilts his head towards you, “No no, don’t think that, you could never lose your touch.”

His lips brush against yours during his response but, he doesn’t try to kiss you, he knows he hasn’t earned that privilege back.

Your nails are making their way up to his chest, trailing along the curves of his collarbones, a dark smile inching onto your lips.

“I wore a necklace with your name on it…” You whisper into his ear, which elicits another shiver from him.

“I love your necklace, I was so honored when I saw it, it was all an act, and you know that. It’s always an act.” He pleads with you, eyes squeezing shut again at the pleasure.

“Do you want a necklace too Yoongi?” You coo in his ear, preparing your nails at the base of his neck

“Wh-?” He begins to question but, quickly he is brought up to speed as you begin using your nails to carve the letters of your name into his skin.

And he knows it too, he’s memorized every letter, he’s said it a thousand times…

“Oh my god.” He keens, his knees feeling weak enough to collapse

A dark giggle leaves your lips as you nibble on his earlobe, “God isn’t here right now Yoongi.”

“Yes she is.” His shaky voice holds a bit of venom in it, as if he’s offended by your statement.

His response causes an ache in your panties but to thwart your own desires, you quickly wrap a hand around his neck, placing it right over the base of his throat.

“Say please.” You coo into his ear, nudging your nose against the hot flesh of his cheek

“Please choke me…”

And you do, squeezing his neck just enough to ignite that light headed feeling he loves so much.

“Touch yourself.”

Yoongi’s quick to follow orders, his eyes fluttering open as he squeezes at the base of his swollen length, pulling up and over the tip of his dick.

“Y/N…Y/N, you know what this does to me.” Yoongi mutters through the haze of his pleasure, his hand faltering slightly when you squeeze harder. His cat-eyes widen as the fingers on your free hand come up to pinch his nipple; they feel so sensitive, every sensation is intensified with your grip on his neck.

“Faster, I wanna see you drip for me.”

Yoongi’s never had you like this before, your mercy would have shown through during previous encounters but, with you holding onto your dominance, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to hold off his orgasm much longer.

But fuck if he won’t try his very best.

“I’m already dripping for you…look at me.” Yoongi’s unstable voice is deep enough to rumble in his chest and, while he has a point, it doesn’t stop him from increasing the pace on his dick. “Please look at me.”

His plea is nonsense; he knows you’re looking at him and, you know that’s not really what he’s asking.

He’s asking you to see how sorry he is.

“I see you baby,” You coo, licking up the shell of his ear, “you’re so pretty when you wanna cum for me.”

He smiles then, his eyes locking onto yours but, you can see how fucked up he is.

You can see him ascending to where he wants to be…

“I must be pretty all the time then.”

Fuck, he sounds so hot.

He’s so desperate for you but, he sounds like such a man and, you can’t help but kiss him again, using your lips to drive him mad.

“Y/N, please I’m gonna cum if I don’t slow down.” Yoongi sighs hopelessly into the kiss, turning his body towards you

With your brows raised, you pull back, “Do you want to know what will happen to you if you cum without my permission.”

His smile darkens, pleasure distorting a bratty expression, “Kind of.”

As your grip tightens around his neck again, his face turns up in desperation.

“If you cum without my permission, I won’t fuck you for a month.”

Your threat is clear and understood and with the widening of Yoongi’s eyes he nods obediently.

“I’ll be good, I promise.” He vows, increasing the speed on his dick, his hips jerking up against his hand.

Your hand leaves his neck to focus on his nipples, rubbing and pinching at them as he touches himself.

“I know you will,” You whisper in his ear, nodding your head towards the bed, “Go lay down.”

As Yoongi’s back hits the bed, you’re quick to descend over him, allowing your dress to ride up over your hips.

You wore something special underneath your dress too; black lacy underwear and a bra to match.

It’s simple but, it suits the both of you very well and, just as you hoped, it was fucking with his heartbeat.

“Fuck, I really like those…” Yoongi whispers, his hands itching at his sides; he wants to touch you so bad but, he knows he shouldn’t, he knows he hasn’t earned that yet. His eyes flicker up to yours, trying to convey he’s sincerity, “You look so good jagiya.”

His accent is getting thicker as he uses a native term of endearment

“You think so?” You tilt your head, allowing your hips to sink fully down against his, your panties pressing directly on his dick.

“So good.” Is all he says but, it comes in the form of a whimper whilst his tongue wet hits lips again.

Leaning down, you place a searing kiss to his mouth, letting him indulge you once again. He’s sloppier this time, his desire intoxicating him but, he still doesn’t touch you, regardless of how much he wants to.

“You have two choices,” You begin, slightly breathless yourself because, despite Yoongi being submissive, his kisses still fuck with you, “,you can either see me or you can touch me.”

He doesn’t even bother asking what you mean before his answer is tumbling past his lips, “I wanna see you, please. I wanna watch…”

Now all you gotta do is decide what to tie him up with. Pulling away from his lips, you look around the room before spotting a rather unorthodox method of bondage: the Christmas lights.

You slide up the length of Yoongi’s torso, making sure to rub your wet panties against his skin and, he takes notice.

“Y/N are you wet? Is that for me?” He breathes and, throughout all of the teasing he’s endured, it’s at this moment that he looks the most uncomfortable. He frantically eyes the material of your underwear, looking helpless as you wrap the Christmas lights around his wrists. “Please, let me taste you.”

And to increase the torture, this is a punishment after all, you position yourself so that you’re hovering right over his wanton mouth, with your pussy just out of reach.

Yoongi’s brow furrows in agony as he sticks his tongue out, desperately trying to reach you.

“I have something else for you to taste.” You murmur and, lean over to his nightstand grabbing the bottle of Hibiki.

His dainty features turn up in curiosity as watches you unscrew the cap, his tongue licking over his lips yet again.

Scooting back down his body, you force him to remember how wet you are before tilting the top of the bottle towards your lips.

“Open your mouth…”

Once Yoongi realizes what you’re doing, he has to stop himself from blowing his load all over his hips so, he quickly obliges, parting his lips for you, staring up at you with pure unfiltered lust.

With a smirk on your lips, you take a swig of the liquor, before hovering over Yoongi’s awaiting mouth and, letting it trickle onto his tongue.

He drinks every last drop, a whimper lingering at the back of his throat, “You are so fucking hot.”

Jesus, this is really starting to escalate.

You lick your lips, collecting the remaining bit of liquid as your free hand tickles over his chest, “Am I? Hot enough to spit whiskey into your mouth?”

Yoongi leans up towards your lips, smirking darkly, whiskey on his breath, “Hot enough to spit in my mouth.”

His correction  fuels the feral side of you which prompts you to use your thumb to part his lips, “Can I really spit in your mouth?”

Yoongi chuckles but, it’s in a very new, very animalistic kind of way, “How many times do I have to tell you?” He whispers against your lips, “You can do whatever the fuck you want to me…”

Adding insult to injury, Yoongi  sticks his tongue out and, the glint in his eyes is different than you’ve ever seen before. You can tell his slipping but, you aren’t sure where...

Maybe he’s going deeper than he’s gone before.

As soon as you spit, you feel an aching in your core when he uses his tongue to trace the perimeter of his lips, spreading your saliva (and his) all over his mouth.

“How does it taste?” The question is softer as you thumb over his lips, allowing him a few kisses against it.

“Good,” He breathes, “just like the rest of you.”

With a kiss against his lips, you pull back glancing towards his nightstand.

“I want to try something new with you tonight.”

He’s all ears, watching you intently whilst you trade the bottle of whiskey for a bottle of lube.  

Yoongi’s a perceptive man, he knows where your mind is headed and, he’d be lying if he said he isn’t intrigued.

“Have you ever had anything inside of you before?”  

He shakes his head, “No.”

Setting the lube down on the bed,  you lean down to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Would you let me inside of you?”

His heart jumps beneath his sternum but, he doesn’t hesitate to nod.

“Yes.”

You kiss him again but, this time you let it linger for a moment before pulling back.

“What’s your safeword?”

A small is one his lips then, “Dragon.”

His smile is returned when you kiss the tip of his nose, “Good boy.”

You take your place between Yoongi’s legs, slowly coaxing them apart so, you’re able to see the entirety of him.  

Given the fact that he’s been with Hoseok, it does surprise you a little bit that they never did anything like this.

But then again, maybe Yoongi wasn’t the one getting fucked...

You tell yourself to save those questions for another time to focus on the task at hand.  

You’re careful to warm up the lube between your fingertips before barely brushing them over Yoongi’s entrance. His stomach muscles quiver as you do so, the sensation unfamiliar but, not unpleasant.

“I’m just going to touch you for a minute, I’ll walk you through everything ok?”  

He nods, allowing his fingertips to curl into the palms of his currently restricted hands. He’s trusts you but, he’s nervous and, he’s worried his heart is about to beat right out of his chest.

Using two fingertips, you gently rub up his entrance and over the muscles beneath his balls. Pleasure begins swirling around Yoongi’s body, his legs spreading wider for you.

“Does that feel good?”

“Yeah...” He whispers, his hips jerking slightly as your fingers trail back down towards his ass. Another deep breath is pulled from his chest and, he tries to prepares himself for what’s to come.

He just wishes he knew what to expect.

Your finger circles his entrance, “I’m going to put one finger in, are you ready?”

He’s as ready as he can be...

Yoongi nods, pulling in a deep breath, trying his best not to tense up.

Taking your time, you begin pushing your index finger inside of him, working your way past the tightness of his muscles. You can hear his breath catch but, you don’t look at him just yet, you just focus on sliding your finger all the way inside of him.

The sensation isn’t unpleasant but, it’s definitely different than. anything Yoongi's ever felt before. It feels a little odd but if he’s being honest, he doesn’t really understand the hype behind it.

“Is that ok?” He hears you whisper

Craning his neck, he looks down at you, trying not to display how underwhelmed he is.  

He’s still hard but, that’s because he was the most beautiful girl in the world between his legs. He’s hard for you under most circumstances.

“I’m ok.” He whispers back

You move your finger in and out of him for a moment, just to get his muscles to relax a little more before glancing up at him as you curl your finger upwards.

Yoongi’s eyes widen, his upper body lurching forward, “Wait...wait, what was that?”

A smirk is on your lips as you meet your boyfriend’s frantic gaze, “What was what?” You curl your finger again, tilting your head.

“That...” He chokes out, his wrists jolting in the Christmas lights, “Jagiya-” Yoongi’s panting now, his face still colored with disbelief, “What is that? What the fuck is that?”

You let your teeth find your bottom lip as you increase the pressure inside of him, the movement causing his dick to jump, “I’m not the only one with a g-spot baby. This,” You rub against the hardened flesh, “is yours.”

“Oh fuck-” Yoongi’s brow draws in as, he opens his mouth, his eyes frantically searching around the room as if he could find an explanation for how good it feels. “What the fuck? What the fuck? B-Baby...”

You brush your free hand over his hips, trailing your fingertips down the length of his dick, “Do you like it?”

Immediately, Yoongi nods as his legs spread wider for you, “It feels so good,” His eyes widened again as you increase your pace a little bit, “Y/N...what is that? What are you doing to me?”

He knows you’ve answered this question but, the pleasure is growing to an intensity he’s never known and, he has no idea what to do.  

You don’t answer him, you know how he’s feeling. Sometimes pleasure is too much and, your brain goes a little haywire. Luckily for both of you, you love driving him crazy.

The pace inside of him remains steady whilst your lips begin kissing up the length of him causing Yoongi to whimper above you. It’s a hopeless and desperate sound, he knows he won’t last like this.

Not even if you asked him to.  

And you know it too but, it doesn’t stop you from sucking him into your mouth anyway.  

You aren’t concerned with punishment right now; you just want to make him cum so hard he cries.

With the coupled sensation of your mouth and your finger in his ass, Yoongi feels like he’s going insane.  

He’s never felt this kind of pleasure before, its rotting him from the inside out and a type of devastation comes over him as he feels his orgasm approaching.

“Y/N...baby.” Yoongi’s beautiful eyes are welling up with tears, his cheeks flushed hot, his lips dry from how hard he’s breathing, “I can’t hold it like this, not with you inside of me.”

To fuck with him further, you just stare up at him and hollow your cheeks out around his length. Your tongue gets to work on his sweet spots and, your finger increases it’s speed.  

“O-Oh...oh god, please, please can I cum? Can I cum please?”  

He doesn’t even sound like himself, his voice is higher but raspier and, the look on his face is priceless.  

He knows he’s fucked...

“Y/N please, I can’t hold it.” His face wrinkles with a mix of pleasure and pain and, his eyes are blown out once again when your pace only increases. “...I don’t want to disappoint you, please...”

But, you don’t stop.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum, I can’t hold it anymore. It feels so good please, please can I- oh fuck...”  

Yoongi’s hips jolt and, you take great pleasure in watching his eyes roll back into his head whilst his mouth parts with a silent cry.

He makes no sound when the first rope of cum hits the back of your throat but, his trembling body speaks for him.  

You don’t cease your motions the entire time and, Yoongi literally feels his brain melt as he cums in a way he’s never experienced before.

“Oh my god.” He whimpers finally, breaking the silence as his hips fuck feverishly into your mouth.

He knows he’s fucked up but, goddamn if he isn’t going to enjoy it.

“Y/N-” Yoongi chokes, his eyes coming back into focus as he stares longingly at you, “I love you, I’m so- ugh...” He moans as another wave of pleasure assaults his senses, “I’m so sorry...I couldn’t help it, it felt so fucking good.”  

The darkness in your eyes remains and, you plan on milking his punishment for all it’s worth.

“Yeah? It just felt so good you couldn’t control yourself?” You coo, pressing one last kiss to his pulsating dick before moving to sit back on your knees.  

He nods rapidly, on the verge of whimpering.

Slowly, you finally begin to remove your dress, feeling grateful that the material is finally free from your body.  

Yoongi’s eyes are still blackened with arousal despite the fact he came moments earlier.

“Oh fuck...you’re so fucking pretty...”

He sees now that your bra matches your panties and, he swears he can feel himself getting hard again.

“You’re not the only one who’s had to wait you know.” You begin, teasing your fingers over your skin, moving your hands behind your back to unclasp your bra, “I’ve been waiting just as long as you have...longer actually-” You note, letting your bra fall from your body eliciting a groan from Yoongi, “and you know how wet I get when I tease you baby.”

He nods, licking his lips his wrists tugging in their ties, “I know, I know I’m so sorry...but you wouldn’t stop. I-” Yoongi stops himself as you brows raise and, he realizes that blaming you is not a good option.

“Oh so it’s my fault then? I made you cum without permission?”

You did.

You know you did but, it’s fun to make him grovel anyway.

“I should have held it but, I couldn’t...” He tugs at his ties again, wishing desperately that he could touch you, “It felt so good, I didn’t know it would feel that good.”

“Hmm...” You muse before crawling up his body, allowing him once again to feel how wet you are, “Do you feel how wet I am?” You coo against his lips, “My pussy hurts Yoongi.”

Yoongi’s eyes are pleading with you, his lips sloppily kissing at yours, “Let me make it better, if you let me out I’ll make you cum all night. Let me show you how sorry I am.”

Your mouth is open against his but, you let his lips kiss all over you, “But I told you I wouldn’t fuck you for a month if you disobeyed me didn’t I?”

Yoongi feels tears prick at the corner of his eyes, nearly losing it at the thought of being without this for a month, “No no no, baby please...please don’t do that to me.” He croaks but, for whatever reason his dick is twitching to life between his legs; why is this turning him on so much? “Don’t break my heart like that...I couldn’t handle it.”

“No?” You smirk, nudging his nose, “Would you beg for me if I did?”

He nods, “Yes...any chance you gave me.”

“Why? Is it cause you can’t live without it?” You’re cooing against his lips but, slowly making your way back.

“I can’t, I really can’t.”

“No? You can’t live without my pussy?”

“I can’t live without you, I’m so addicted...”

He watches you with a needy gaze as you straddle his hips, your wet panties causing his dick to twitch once again.

“Addicted huh?” You tsk, keeping eye contact with him while you slip off your panties, “That doesn’t sound good...”

“Oh but it is...” All of the teasing and pleasure is starting to send Yoongi back to that euphoric state and, he’s quite sure if he feels you on him right now, he’ll loose his mind, “it’s so good.”

“I’m aching Yoongi,” You remind him, rolling your wet folds against up his dick, his eyes widening as you do, “can you fix it?”

“Yes, fuck...”Yoongi’s fingers feel like they are going numb beneath the lights but, he doesn’t care, all he cares about is your pleasure, “please, use me. Use my dick, I won’t even cum baby, I just want to see you feel good.”

You’re positioning his dick against your entrance but, his answer surprises you, “Is that right? You’d let me fuck you just for me?”

“Yes, whatever you want, I’m yours to use...I want you to cum so bad.”

“And why is that?”

Yoongi’s eyes lock with yours, “Because I love you.”

Fuck this.

You sink down on him immediately, wasting no time at setting the pace you know the two of you like: deep and fast.

Bending over, your hips continue their movements whilst you find Yoongi’s lips again, pulling him into a wet kiss, “You love me huh?”

“Mhm...” With his face drawn in with ecstasy, he whimpers against your lips, “I love you so fucking much...you’re so beautiful. You’re so beautiful like this, taking me...you’re taking what's yours.”

“Are you mine?” Your voice is growing higher too because, with how wet and aroused you are, you know this won’t last long and, you need to hear the words that will send you over the edge.

“I’m yours.”

Your hips are bouncing up and down at an increasing speed and, what your movements lack in finesse they make up for with enthusiasm.

“Yoongi...” You’re whimpering now, his dick is curving up just right.

“Are you close beautiful? Are you gonna cum on me?”

“Cum...cum with me...” You urge him and, he feels relief watch over him that you’re going to let him finish too.

He’s nodding, kissing at your lips, fucking up into as best as he can, “I will but, let me see you babygirl, wet my dick, c’mon you’re so close yeah? I can feel how t-tight you are, come get what you deserve...”

You’re choking on a moan, moving away from your previous role because, with Yoongi talking to you like this, it isn’t about power exchanges anymore, it’s about love.

“I love you...”

It’s the last phrase you mutter before you reach your high, Yoongi following soon after you.

It’s intense enough to bring the two of you to tears and as you begin to come down, you notice the dreamy look in your boyfriends eyes.

“Hey...” You coo, thumbing his cheek, tilting his head up, “are you still with me?”

He sniffles, tears staining his cheeks as he presses against your hand, “Mhm.” Yoongi looks uneasy suddenly as he eyes his restraints, “Can I come out now? I need you.”

Your heart melts at his request and, you're quick to get his hands out of the Christmas lights, smoothing over the redness on his wrists before laying beside him.

Immediately, he cuddles up to you, burying his face into your chest, breathing you in as if there is something soothing in your scent.

“You did so good for me angel...” You speak softly into his hair, pressing kisses against his head, “Do you feel good?”

All he does his nod, his mouth latching onto any bit of skin he can reach, his body growing small in your arms.

“You are my goddess, my everything...”

Yoongi does this from time to time and, you’ve come to respect that it’s his way of expressing himself during intense moments.

He always promises that one day he will tell you what he says but, you don’t push him, you just let him have his moment and, feel the love within his tone.

Because love transcends language doesn’t it?

“I want to spend my life with you, forever and ever...and ever. You are so beautiful, you make me feel so beautiful...”

You smile, kissing his forehead as your freehand pulls a blanket over the two of you.

“Would you marry me if I asked? If I got down on knee and, humbly requested that you be my bride? Have I earned such a privilege? I know it isn’t time yet but, one day it could be no? It could be time...Min Y/N...” He smiles brilliantly beneath your neck, kissing the skin there before continuing.

“I like the sound of that.”

Outside the door, you hear the party goers beginning to countdown to midnight.

You missed the party but, you didn’t care.

As you tilt Yoongi’s face up to yours, you smile at the only man you’ve ever loved, “3....2...1...”

“Happy new year...” He whispers, returning your smiling before leaning up and, capturing your lips in a kiss.

Happy New Year indeed.  

[honeytea8]

Virtue & Vice • Dio Brando/Reader

A/N: Discord prompt for the week was Masquerade AU, so I decided to write for Dio Brando, using @sammystep’s beautiful bedroom and mask renders as inspiration 😏 (seriously, they are amazing, so check them out at the end of the fic!!); Also written to be gender neutral, so please let me know if I messed up anywhere!

Word Count: 2.9K

Summary: With your estranged cousin in a town full of rumors and ghost stories, it’s rather obvious you’re in for an interesting weekend. Somehow, you catch the eye of an insatiable beast, and whether you manage to survive him is left completely up to you.

Warnings/Disclaimers: Subtle references to Stone Ocean, heavily implied sexual content, Dio monologuing lol

In every city you’ve visited, there was always talk, and by talk, you meant gossip. Grapevines grew from thin air, spreading until the town was entangled in a sickness you liked to call Hearsay. You had witnessed this far too many times in the past, the novelty having worn off a long time ago. But on occasion, you liked to lend an ear to the particularly interesting ones—stories that left you searching for that innocuous sliver of truth amidst fairy tale.

Most times, however, it was merely a drunk spewing his usual nonsense to any person willing to listen. You were rarely ever an audience to such. Still, nothing quite chilled your bones like the tale recounted by one of the strangest men you’ve ever met.

It had been late in the evening, but not too late that the barmaid was not still serving homemade pies and cold drinks to her patrons.

A man only a few years older than yourself was perched on a rickety wooden chair nearby; it gave a high-pitched squeak every time he shifted. He had been there upon your arrival and would likely be there after you were gone. His clothes were drenched in sweat, boots caked in mud. You noticed him observing you from under the brim of his ten-gallon hat, though the rest of his face remained hidden. The nearest available seat just so happened to be right by his own, you hesitated, but ultimately took it.

Your fingers were frozen like cubes of ice and you breathed on them in a fruitless attempt to help them thaw. The barmaid made her rounds and eventually came to you. Only then were you able to order something to warm you up, a simple cup of coffee would suffice. You sat silent and unassuming, content with minding your own business until a gruff voice reached out to you, almost as if his words grew an arm and gripped your shoulder.

“Yer face,” he muttered in your direction. “S’like someone I can trust.”

You blinked at him. The implications behind his words were not lost on you. In fact, it was something you heard quite often. For your own mother had delivered you into a cruel world, and was quick to brand you with a trademark that has followed you for as long as you could recall: an angel.

In return, people seemed to gravitate towards you—were always intrigued by you, listening and speaking to you, soothed by your very nature and presence. It was a gift, you supposed. And like any gift, you preferred to use it for good. Whether it be to share in another’s burdens, or to relieve them of it entirely.

“Is there something you would like to share?” you replied back.

He hummed, then took a long swig of his whiskey in preparation. “Yeah, somethin's kept me up fer days actually.”

“What has?”

“I used ‘ta butle for a lord here in this town—hmm, well ta be frank it was only for a lil’ while... was dismissed soon after.”

The man continued without giving any clear answer to your question, but you assumed a bit of patience would grant you the full story.

“I'm sorry about your job.” you said out of courtesy, but he waved you off.

“Don’t be. S’better this way.” he took another sip, draining the glass in one go and waved for another round. “You believe in heaven?”

“Heaven? Like… the place where good people go when they pass on...? I—I’m not too sure.”

“S’alright.” he smiled for the first time, wide lips stretching across his face handsomely. He looked rather boyish with his half dimple and cleft chin. His expression was almost endearing. You figured he might’ve been quite the charmer when sober. “Name’s Hol Horse, by the way.”

“Hol Horse, it's a pleasure to meet you.”

You introduced yourself as well, to which he tipped his hat in greeting. The whole exchange was rather odd, but you went along with it for the sake of your own budding curiosity.

Hol Horse cast a wary glance around the room. You too chanced a brief look, but not as thoroughly as your companion. Obviously, no one was listening. You smiled and silently encouraged him to surrender the burden laying heavy on his conscience.

Hol Horse gave you his story. Some parts he gave in detail—others he offered in threadbare comments, giving only the minimum for you to catch the gist. From what you could piece together, he had worked as a servant under a young lord in the countryside. It was a large estate left behind by a ‘Sir Joestar’ who had passed away many years ago due to illness. His only adopted son was left to inherit the fortune, along with several of the businesses in town. That was as far as Hol Horse knew, more surprisingly, he had never even laid eyes on his employer during his tenure. Any and every form of correspondence was made through the lord's right hand.

At one point, you were beginning to wonder what picture Hol Horse was trying to paint here. Why did any of this matter? Regardless, it was the earnest pull of his voice that kept you rooted to your seat. That, and the fact that he had seemed to grow even more...disturbed the longer he spoke. His brows were pinched while he thought, showing his great displeasure. You truly hoped, for his sake, that confessing whatever was killing him inside would finally put his heart at ease.

In a lowered tone, he revealed the true cause of his troubles. He had spotted a number of bloodied sheets being carted away from his lord’s sleeping quarters, men and women’s clothing torn to shreds and disposed of in an incinerator. Certain staff members with superhuman strengths and abilities. Phantoms, ghosts, demonic spirits. All culminated by the devastating amount of missing persons. These were some serious, and if you were honest, strange allegations.

“My apologies,” you interrupted, “but I’m not sure I follow.”

“I’m sayin’ that some crazy shit’s goin’ on in this town, and I wouldn’t feel too inclined ta stay if I were you.”

You pursed your lips, far too stunned for words.

“Heaven.” he uttered like a curse. There was a sudden quiver in his lips, that sent a chill racing down your spine. It wasn’t just about ‘heaven’. More specifically, Hol Horse was convinced there existed a way to call it forth.

The sheer ridiculousness of this statement seized your attention. The man was so obviously intoxicated, but spoke like these were irrefutable facts that he too struggled to come to terms with.

A heaven within the reach of mere mortals? Powers no man had any business wielding? It was absolutely ludicrous! But your gut, which had saved you countless times in the past, urged you to not cast this tale aside.

You wondered if this made you a fool.

.

.

.

You had only come to this town per invitation from a distant, older cousin. And while distant by blood, she was also distant to you in nearly every other aspect as well. You and your cousin, Gwess, scarcely saw one another due to a series of familial barriers. By all accounts, you should be wary of her, but she was also newly married now, and you supposed her only desire was to rekindle your long-neglected relationship.

Marriage, children, a home—it had a way of changing people. You were unsure if you could genuinely relate to her feelings, but you would not stop her from trying to rebuild something, even if that something had never truly existed in the first place.

For whatever reasons, your cousin had you set up in a hotel instead of her guest house. You didn’t take it personally, after all, it was her home to do with as she pleased. The hotel suite was lavish; far be it from you to complain.

Clean, white walls, with an intricate gold motif wallpaper, Persian carpeting, high thread-count sheets made from the whitest Egyptian cotton. At your bedside were red roses that added a bit of color and warmth to the room, and near the window was a mini-bar stocked with various alcoholic beverages should you choose to indulge.

Courtesy of Gwess, your outfit for the night’s festivities hung on the bathroom door, zipped up in a garment bag to keep it from either soiling or wrinkling. She had gifted it to you along with a mask for the masquerade ball, though, you felt a sudden trepidation bubbling in your stomach at what awaited you; like a premonition of something to come, it weighed on your chest, and you tried desperately to swallow it down.

Hol Horse’s words from the previous night continued to haunt you in broken fragments. He had warned you not to stick around but it wasn’t like you were staying much longer. Just one more night.

Still, you worried. With the sound of your heart thumping in your ears, you drew out the lace and chiffon clothing from the bag that had kept it hidden from you until now.

A feeling you could not explain washed over you at the sight of what Gwess brought for you to wear. It was white with wing-like patterns sewn down into the material just below the blades of your shoulders. You considered the meaning of this as you donned the outfit and fixed the mask over your face. Mockery perhaps? Who could say?

Gwess greeted you in the hotel lobby with open arms and a warm smile.

“Cousin!”

“Gwess.” You murmured with a nod and a small tilt of your lips. “You look well.”

She grinned, eyes crinkling, “Don’t I?” Gwess gave a twirl, showing off one of her newest purchases. A thinly strapped designer gown with silver embroideries and little birds stitched at the hem and sleeve. In her hands was an extravagant mask covered in jewels and... real life bird feathers. You assumed so, given the traces of blood still on them. Ever the beauty, your cousin was. Her husband, being a lawyer working under a prominent firm in town, made sure that his dearest Gwess wanted for nothing; inherently enabling her rather eccentric hobbies, like mutilating tiny animals and using their remains as accessories.

.

.

.

The venue was a large ballroom not too far from the hotel. It was beautifully decorated with crimson and gold ornaments and glittering chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The festivities were already in full swing. Peals of laughters, thundering music, flashing lights. It was increasingly overwhelming. The event was more of a bacchanal for the rich and wealthy, a hedonistic gathering for the town’s upper echelon. It was almost ceremonial.

To make matters worse, you lost sight of Gwess, or rather, she had ditched you for a group of familiar faces. So, you wandered about on your own. There were a startling amount of guests, it felt almost like eyes were on you at every moment. Bodies pushed on all sides of you as you struggled to make your way through to a less crowded area. The sick feeling in the pit of your stomach bred more fear and anxiety, until you felt the urge to vomit right then and there.

Escaping into the open balcony was your only form of solace, and perhaps you’d remain there for the rest of the evening. Though, how could you have known that in doing so, you would inevitably find yourself within the crosshairs of an apex predator.

By his third victim, Dio was beginning to think that none of his ‘esteemed’ guests had brought a worthy sacrifice. A sneer curled at his lips as he watched them from his seat above. They were like monkeys, dancing for his entertainment, but unfortunately, he was far from entertained. He lounged back in his seat with a deep sigh.

Dio Brando did not believe in chance or coincidence. He did not believe in a being beyond the proverbial curtain, pulling on strings and orchestrating the whims of humanity. But lately, he’d been feeling a bit of a premonition. Nothing alarming, just an inkling of something he couldn’t quite place. And even after speaking to Enrico at length—

Dio paused in his musing, having caught sight of something in his peripheral.

With purposed steps, he followed the instincts deep within him, a visceral tugging in his gut, until he was greeted with the sight of your back. Poised like a sharpened blade, clothed in white; you stood underneath the lantern’s glow, like an angel hand-delivered to his doorstep. Utterly enticing.

You turned, gazing over at him with a peculiar look in your eyes, like that of a cautious doe in the presence of a hunter. The mask you wore shielded the majority of your face, but you were not someone he recognized. The clothing you were wearing made him all the more interested in finding what lay beneath.

Even from this distance, he could see the light sheen of sweat on the back on your neck. The subtle quake in your shoulders was not hidden from him either, even the bob of your throat as you swallowed.

“Do you mind if I join you?” he finally asked.

You were not expecting the man to speak since he looked so dead set on staring at you. “I don’t mind at all.”

You shifted over a little, an unnecessary action, seeing as there was plenty of room for the both of you. The fresh air did well in calming you down. But the sudden appearance of this man and his wolfish gaze was putting you back on edge. In any other instance, his very aura would have sent you running for the hills, but for some reason, you couldn't even bring yourself to move.

“You aren't enjoying yourself,” he noted with a teasing smile. “Does that make me a terrible host?”

You fumbled for a minute, stuttering over your words while trying to find an appropriate answer that wouldn’t offend him too much.

“C-Certainly not. It’s, um, no fault of your own. These kinds of things never interested me in the first place.”

You tried to avoid looking him in the eye when you responded but that proved to be impossible. His eyes were such a beautiful shade of scarlet. You half-wondered if they even came in that color naturally. He licked his lips, and for a second you caught sight of a sharpened canine.

“One could say that I am looking for something. Why else would I throw such an affair?”

Curious, you angled yourself a bit closer to him.

“Do you believe in gravity, dear?” he brushed his knuckles against your cheek. “That might be the reason why I’ve found you. You feel it too, that innate pull that can’t be explained.” he drew you closer until you were chest to chest. “It’s why you can’t walk away even though you’re frightened. I think we were fated to meet each other here.”

A wind blew as he said those words, tussling his gold spun hair, as if nature itself were confirming his words.

“Don’t you believe in destiny? That our lives are fate’s ultimate composition; a song that plays from the moment we take our first breath until we breathe our last.”

He was standing so close, close enough that you could smell the hint of cinnamon in his cologne and... blood...on his breath. It was making you dizzy, but you were also surprised to find that you wanted him to kiss you. And once that thought was acknowledged, it blossomed into a heady desire that was slowly taking over your entire body. You wanted him, the monster behind the mask.

“What say you, dear? Are you still frightened by me?” he laughed. “Don’t be. You and I are the same.”

“I’m...not afraid.” you said and placed a hand on his chest. It pleased him to hear you say it, even if your body betrayed your words. He leaned forward with one arm wrapped around your waist and gave a long, languid lick to a stripe of your skin, your perspiration was no deterrent at all, in fact he rather enjoyed it. Being this close to you gave him a vision of depthless oceans behind his eyelids with the taste of saltwater on his tongue and algae under his feet.

It was cathartic.

Indeed there were cleaner ways to do this, but he liked the pulse of your jugular beneath his tongue. He let his fangs sink into the flesh of your neck, puncturing your skin all the way through. Your fingers gripped his clothes, but not out of pain. The immense pleasure washing over you felt unlike anything you could ever imagine. Puffs of your warm breath coasted against the shell of his ear. You were far past the point of return.

.

.

.

In the final act, you laid naked in your hotel bed underneath blood speckled sheets. Your neck was throbbing, but it was nothing compared to the pleasant soreness between your thighs.

Dio, the name of your new god, hovered over you bare as the day he was born with an arrogant smile on his lips. Your wrists were bound with the strips of cloth torn from your body. You couldn’t reach him but your gaze still roamed the hills and valleys of his muscled chest in an act of worship and devotion.

An angel, they had called you. But what was angel without a fall from grace? It seemed in order to know virtue, one must first acquaint themselves with vice.