#Model!AU

[femininenachos]

So i gotta ask, is the pic of lexa on the streets eating a pap shot or a staged photo shoot? 😂 what’s lexa’s favorite Parisian activity that doesn’t involve Clarke? (Model AU)

Oh, it’s definitely staged - not a single crumb of pastry passed her lips!

When Lexa is travelling solo to Paris she looks up her former roommates - in the early days she shared an apartment with other girls on the agency’s roster. A couple still live in the city, so they visit their old haunts and catch up on all the gossip. Lexa doesn’t have many friends and confidantes (she has a reputation for being standoffish and cultivating a certain chilly, aristocratic hauteur, but mostly others are too intimidated by all that attitude and constant serving to approach her) but these girls knew Lexa when she just starting out, an awkward fawn desperate to be seen as chic and sophisticated. So there’s a bond, a sisterhood almost, and when their schedules align Lexa’s there in a heartbeat.

If Anya’s in town too, a wild night will be had, and Clarke is the beneficiary of the snaps. Lexa’s smile gets a little wider and freer in each one, her eyes unfocused but still so very magnetic, and not a hair out of place as the champagne flows. Let’s just say that by the time Clarke leaves the studio late and arrives home to Frank nipping at her heels for his dinner, the pics Lexa sends tend to edge into raunchier territory, and whatever plans Clarke had for the evening are quickly derailed.

[choicesmc]

for model au | gabe looks up from his notebook and just sees pages of this—

if the outfits are /the colors are… not great, sorry _o-

[bluevelvetea]

Whiskey Trio Model! AU

If you have any headcanons about this feel free to leave them here I'll gladly read them

This will probably remain a sketch forever but enjoy anyways

I really gave in to my intrusive thoughts after seeing this on my Pinterest feed:

[snarkymonkeyprime]

@magic-ramen is a terrible person as she indulged my recent worsening of the model!au and has made it worse.

[notherpuppet]

Role reversal AU

[cromernet]

-> NEW RELEASE: LIGHTS, CAMERA, SMILE by @arafilez

Feedback: There's something about this Yeosang that has me weak in the knees, he's like a little cocky because he's a model but its one of those that doesn't feel undeserved. ooo it makes me feel tingly haha. I would love a scandal with this Yeosang

LIGHTS, CAMERA, SMILE ㅤ—ㅤ ﹙★﹚

one night of spontaneity is all yeosang wants before he is back to the same routine. and you are just the right, gorgeous distraction !

PAIRING ﹕ k.ys x fem!reader ㅤㅤ✸ㅤㅤ GENRE ﹕ model au ㅤstrangers to lovers ㅤ fluffㅤ pg13 ㅤ﹢ㅤ 1.5k wc ㅤ—ㅤ WARNING ﹕ kiss, alcohol

EVENT ﹕ @pirateeznet second anniversaryㅤ⋆ㅤGRAPHICS ﹕ banner @kessavyo ㅤ﹢ㅤ moodboard @daemour

Lights! Camera! Bitch smile! Even when you wanna die.

Yeosang’s life has always been one of the most boring TV shows. Clicks of cameras, lenses shuttering, a smile that might as well be stitched by now and his body clad in designer clothes, he stands on the runway of Milan, under the glimmering lights of Italy.

A sigh leaves his lips, his porcelain-like skin crinkling the slightest as he plops down on the couch in the hotel lounge after what feels like the longest event in his entire career. But then again he knows he thinks that after every event, he drinks up his rosé wine and stumbles back to his room for the next day.

You have to suck it up, you chose this life yourself.

He is so immersed in twirling his glass on the table, smiling tipsily at the drink inside threatening to spill but never doing so, he does not notice when a figure slides down on the chair opposite to him. A short breath and clink of heels later he looks up, eyes meeting yours.

He opens his mouth to say the same sentence he has chanted like a mantra, sounding like a maniac to himself when he repeats it over and over, the usual ‘sorry no pictures or signatures allowed during my relaxation time’, you beat him to it and say, “Hi sorry if you don’t mind can I sit here? The other places aren’t really empty.”

Nervous whisper, hesitant smile and a dazzling voice.

For a moment he feels alive all over again before it dies. Probably just an excuse.

Yeosang slowly turns around in his seat ready to call out your bluff when he realises you aren’t lying. The chairs are actually filled with people chattering all around and reality slowly drips back to the slight haze he had let himself be covered in. “Sure,” his deep voice resonates between you two and you sigh in relief, putting down your bag and returning to your tablet.

His eyes fix on your features, long and droopy eyelashes, loose strands of hair along your nape, pursed lips as your hands move in a flawless manner over your tab. Yeosang has been an introvert all his life, never having the courage to even tap someone and talk to them so when his voice comes out he doesn’t even recognise it himself.

“Hi!”

“Hey!” you smile, putting down the tablet and the pen you were using on the table as you look at the man in front of you. He is quite literally flawless and looking at him you could tell either God really had favourites or he himself was a God.

“I am Kang Yeosang, nice to meet you,” his voice becomes shakier with each word, cursing himself for taking the initiative and actually talking when he probably has never started any conversation in his entire life.

“Y/n, nice to meet you too,” your grin widens as you hold out your hand and he takes it lightly. You notice the hesitance and curiosity burning in his gaze as he leaves your hand and continues staring at it.

You look at him discreetly slowly letting it sink in that the man in front of you is drop-dead gorgeous. High nose-bridge, perfect, accentuated lips, deep beautiful voice and the mark beside his eyes that feels intriguing.

Maybe it is the lighting of the lounge or the fact that you had had more than one drink for the night before you had made your way towards this enticing stranger, courage brimming in your system.

Elegance, sophistication, money. Things you could only dream of being a part of.

“So, Kang Yeosang, here for a nice little Italian trip?” the question easily slides up your lips. Maybe you just want to be a part of it for one night, one single night and maybe you could just get a taste of whatever eludes with sophistication in front of you.

He looks at you, now twirling the empty glass in his hand, and mouths, “Work.”

“So much work it requires you to be alone?” a slightly enunciating tone and Yeosang raises an eyebrow chuckling at the unasked question. What could hurt if he is actually bold and daring one night?

“Yes, unless I want to get caught in a scandal,” he notices the light change in your demeanour as soon as the sentence leaves his lips, your fingers which were lightly drumming the tablet screen now hovering unsurely, eyes widening for a millisecond before you regain your composure and hum lightly.

“I am a famous model,” he adds, finding it a bit odd how someone who is designing a suit on her tablet has never seen modelling shows. He doesn’t say it out loud, enjoying his boldness a bit too much for his liking.

One night.

One night before he goes back to the usual.

Lights! Camera! Bitch smile! In stilettos for miles.

“Well, if I had known that this is what I missed, I sure would have paid more attention to the boring walking shows,” a hint of mischief burns in your eyes as the sentence leaves your lips. Yeosang’s eyebrows raise to your flirty tone as he meets your eyes in a glance far too heated for a stranger.

You seem to be so much trouble! Gorgeous, messy, spontaneous trouble! Yet the trouble is what he likes.

“Bold for a designer to say that,” he leans across the table deliberately pulling your glass towards him and pushing it up to his lips for one sip.

One single sip and a rage of unwanted heat travels down your body.

Your eyes lock with his and travel down his defined cheekbones, down to his lips glistening in the aftertaste of the wine, your wine and down to the glass he is holding rather carelessly.

“Wanted a taste,” you hear his deep voice forming a silver lining over the deafening buzz in your ears.

“Only the drink?” you challenge, albeit bolder than you have been your whole life. The man in front of you is straight out of Greek mythology and it would be utterly stupid to let this opportunity go. Especially since he actually made a move.

“Mine’s finished,” he reasons, mischief sparkling in his eyes making you chuckle as you reply, “You can always refill.” “Where’s the fun in that?” his deep laugh travels down your spine and a range of emotions spark inside your body.

You don’t know how you end up in the fountain side from the couch. All you can remember his warm hands engulfing yours and a few whispered nothings later you are giggling by the water. The moon makes a clear reflection on the monuments and quite frankly it accentuates his features even more.

“Has anyone ever told you you are beautiful?” Yeosang’s voice reaches your ears much to his own surprise. Sober Yeosang would have never even thought about this and even though he had just had one glass, blaming it on alcohol felt so much easier. Freer.

He must have lost his mind, being so high on the night and blatantly complimenting a stranger he has met a few hours prior. One night, his mind resonates and he lets the worries easily slide to the back of his mind.

“Has anyone ever told you that the birthmark can be kissed all day long? And possibly every day!” The last part comes out as a whisper and you have no idea what you are doing. Any other time your mind would be blaring with the ‘Stranger Danger’ alert but tonight you just want one taste.

One taste of the man who eludes an amount of elegance you have never dreamed of reaching.

You let out a satisfied hum when you feel his mouth on yours, hands carelessly pressed against his chest. His fingers trail down your jaw enunciating kiss after kiss forming a cloud of haze over any rational decisions in your mind. When your fingers tangle in his hair he lets out a light groan, pressing your bodies to each other wanting to take anything the night is willing to give you two.

No camera, no reporters, nobody is watching you two but Yeosang is scared. More than he has ever been in the spotlight and he is not even in the spotlight right now.

Yeosang doesn’t know what is happening from here. He has never plunged into a risk so bad. But he knows- trouble is what he likes. So one night. One night before it dissolves into the harsh reality of tomorrow! One night before he has to hear the same “Lights! Camera! Smile.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ—ㅤ—

The smooth lining of the cloth wraps around Yeosang’s skin as he stands in the flashes of the camera on the Milan runway. He feels alive, free and happy to stand there and flaunt a cloth of his personal favourite designing line.

When he turns back and meets your eyes from the far behind of the curtain backstage, his laugh lines reappear and the camera flashes increase in intensity, shutters rapidly opening and closing.

"Lights! Camera! Smile!" The stage director calls out.

But this time the smile is real!

ARA'S NOTES ﹕ omg trying a different piece to write is so hard ngl. inspired by lyrics from "i can do it with a broken heart" by taylor swift. happy second anniversary to @pirateeznet yayyyyy and tysm to @daemour for beta-ing.

NAVI ﹕ @pirateeznet postㅤ⋆ㅤlibrary ㅤ atz shelfㅤ navi

TAGLIST ﹕ @haneagerr @weird-bookworm @aaa-sia @yeosayang @gong-fourz ㅤ⏤ㅤ fill this or comment or ask to be added.

ㅤㅤ(ㅤㅤ© arafilez on tumblrㅤㅤ)

[jayohdotp]

🙋‍♂️🙋‍♂️🙋‍♂️

[baeshijima]

— stardust

the world is a vast place. in the grand scheme of things, humans are but a speck of dust; much like how you are sure you are nothing but a meagre speck of dust in the world he lives in, forever to be remained unseen. (if only you knew how you are the brightest star he'd ever laid his eyes upon.)

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 1.5k wc, royalty!au, contract marriage/marriage of convenience, fluff, smitten reca bc what would he be other than smitten, a little hint of bittersweet at the end if read between the lines aha...

A/N : ....i have a paper due monday. i havent started it. why do i do this to myself. (reca i love u can u not hear my cries and wails as fic after fic appears in my brain for u...)

Duke Reca of the northern territory; to many he is a well-accomplished noble, a young genius set for greater things, and the owner-slash-founder of the top theatre company. He is an idol — a role model to those who aspire to be more involved in the artistic side of the world.

To you, however, he is an absolute lunatic, the bane of your existence, and your contractual husband.

It's not like you had much choice. It was either: a) remain as a hollow puppet whose strings danced at your family's fingertips, or b) find some way to escape with outside power.

You, of course, chose the second option. Unfortunately, that somehow led to you meeting the young duke when out in the shopping district, trying to escape the suffocating presence of your family's knights accompanying you by running into a secluded alleyway, even if it was for but a momentary breather.

It was a whirlwind of a meeting... quite literally. Bodies flew; clothing tousled; breaths stolen. Well, at least for you it was like this. He, on the other hand, looked right as rain. (Lucky bastard.) You hadn't realised it was him at first, too absorbed in hasty apologies and the numbing bloom spreading across your backside like a wildfire (really, they ought to incorporate more padding in these flimsy clothes!), but when he uttered an apology of his own for not paying attention to his surroundings with an arm outstretched to help you stand, your mind all but blanked. What was someone of his status doing in a dingy alley? Didn't the newspapers report word of his self-confinement, having not stepped foot outside his manor in fervent preparation of his upcoming performance?

No, never mind all that; wasn't this a blatant opportunity being presented to you? An outside power that could help you escape the clutches of your family...

With gritted teeth, all sense of self-dignity was cast aside as you grasped his outstretched hand with both of your own, gazing into his widened eyes with your own narrowed ones.

"Your Grace, I know this is hardly the appropriate time nor place, but please... marry me!" Your words echoed within the enclosed space. Duke Reca blinked slowly down at you, and it was then you realised you never elaborated. "In... in a contractual marriage of convenience, of course."

"Oh?" he grinned, amusement and intrigue twinkling in his eyes. "And what is it you can offer me?"

"I..." Truthfully, there was nothing you could offer which would be beneficial to someone like him who had everything at the tips of his fingers. You were but a speck of dust in his world, merely floating and remaining unseen within his view. But even so, here you kneeled before him, his gaze wholly fixated on a speck of dust such as yourself. If nothing else, you at least had your desperation — a desperation to be your own person. "My lineage may be from that of a baron's, but I am confident I can be of use to you if you would permit it. So long as you accept my offer, I will do anything to aid you, whether that be through practical means or a performance you wish to see."

A beat of silence.

"Ha... haha... ahahaha!!"

And, as if things couldn't get any worse than a sore rear and disgruntled self, you were pulled out of your daze by a pair of gleaming carmine eyes, a maniacal grin, and his body, now kneeled just like you were, so very close to your own.

"That determination... how brilliantly you burn with such an expression!" The sheer glee which bled through his tone sent shivers down your spine, having never realised someone so esteemed had such a side to him. The duke breathed a breathy laugh and slightly backed up, his hands still holding your arms. "Alright, I look forward to seeing how brightly you will shine in your performance, my dear leading actor."

...Was it too late to back out and find an alternative solution?

Admittedly so, for the next thing you knew vows were declared and you were moved into the duke's residence. You could still remember your family's aghast expressions the moment you declared you were marrying Duke Reca and thus cutting ties with them. It was oddly freeing to see their contorted faces reveal their true nature.

Life as the duke's spouse was... something, to say the least. His servants and attendants almost seemed to have shed tears of joy at the revelation of their ever so lonely duke (their words, not yours) finally settling down and getting married, asking you questions such as how you both met, what drew you to their duke, who popped the question first, why you chose him of all people, so on so forth. It was... cosy. Something you admittedly weren't very accustomed to, but found yourself welcoming nonetheless.

One thing you never expected was for the duke to have a little pet of his own; a little toad dressed in a miniature beret and matching suit, at that. Assistant Director is what Reca had called her, and you think for someone so obsessed with the arts he ought to up his naming sense. She was also quite susceptible to compliments, something you discovered when commenting on the little toad's cute attire, with the duke's baffling translation of her bashfulness and her own compliment on your own looks. Apparently. You're not really sure, but you're inclined to believe it ever since she claimed a spot on your shoulder.

As the days-turned-weeks-turned-months bled into each other, you found yourself oddly lost at how well-adapted you have become of your new life and the duke's personality. From impromptu displays of affection both in and outside the manor to sporadic radio silence on his end when wholly consumed by his fervent passion for a project, you sometimes wonder just how you're still alive with the amount of heart attacks the man has given you.

But despite his... eccentricities, to put it lightly, there are times where you can't quite put a finger on certain expressions he would make when he thinks you're not looking. They're unlike his (once again, to put it very lightly) passionate eyes when rambling to you during mealtimes about an upcoming performance the troupe has; unlike the sheer mania he can exude when something truly sparks his inspiration; unlike the playfully smug grin he would give you when swooping down in dramatic flair to press a long kiss to the back of your palm; unlike the rare darkening of his expression that you cannot help but stiffen at when something or someone in the troupe doesn't quite match his expectations.

No. These ones are... soft. A kind of tenderness and unprecedented longing able to be identified if scrutinised close enough. It was evident in the ghost-like touches he would trail along your skin, as though afraid just a little more force would do irreparable damage. It was evident in the attention to even the most minute details, having everything from clothing to food to the decor suited to preferences you yourself never realised you had. It was evident in the way unadulterated fondness leaked through his tone when his unique terms of affection for you slipped through his lips when all was silent and you were supposed to be asleep.

"My dearest star..."

...Much like now, it would seem.

The bed dips by where your knees slightly bend, hidden under the beige covers. A familiar musky scent surrounds you not long after, and you find yourself involuntarily relaxing at the comfort it brings as your head further burrows into the pillow.

You want to stay awake, even if it's just for a second longer, to hear what he has to say to your less than conscious state. But, oh, his fingers threading through your hair and softly massaging your scalp and the gentle touch of his forehead against yours and the subtle comforting warmth that rolls off his body in waves does little to help you fight the sleep which easily takes over.

Oh, whatever! You'll just try and catch what he has to say next time.

Eventually your breathing evens out, only soft snores now heard within the large shared bedroom. Upon noticing this, Reca cannot stop the fond smile which lifts the corners of his lips, nor can he prevent the softening of his eyes as he continues to gaze at your sleeping form.

"My dearest [Name]," he whispers into the dead of night. Even now, several months later, he still cannot believe his luck to have run into you in that alleyway. It must have been fate which made him heed its call, urging him he would discover something sure to escape that terrible slump plaguing him for weeks on end.

Sure enough, it brought him to something irreplaceable; something he has been searching desperately for.

You.

And, with the tenderest of kisses pressed to your forehead that would put even the most sickening romantics to shame, he murmurs words of promise against your skin, an oath he swears to uphold no matter the obstacles which stand before him.

"In this life, I will ensure you have only the best of endings."

if you enjoyed this, reblogs and/or comments are greatly appreciated <33

[femininenachos]

Hi! I’ve loved DWBYG for a long time because it was my intro to the Clexa AU world. It’s only today that I stumbled upon the #model!au snippet written around the same time you were finishing up DWBYG! Is it a wip or a one-off snippet?

Oof, Model AU has lived rent free in my head for about… 6(7?) years, but it never did come to fruition as a fully-fledged fic. From my perspective, the snippets and headcanons are sort of perfectly preserved in amber and I don’t want to mess with them. Plus, at this point I just don’t think I can write it—even though Miss Fashionista, Dior-ambassador ADC is generously providing so much model!au fodder on the regular these days. The time has passed, you know? I still think about it, but more because of nostalgia for the Model Lexa crack and shenanigans that went on here.

Sorry to disappoint! But thank you for the DWBYG love 💜

[craxy-person]

I'm not that much a dom, but this story makes me feel things 🔥

lovely puppy

🌙 staring. Model!Jeno x afab!Photographer!Reader

🔮 preview. You’re reminded of the Greek Narcissus, who had fallen in love with himself in a still pond reflection- But Jeno does tear his gaze away from the photo - unlike the Grecian beauty who’d turned into a flower for want of looking at himself - and Jeno turns to you with eyes full of that same puppylike innocence that had bewitched you during the shoot.

cw/ tw.  simp!jeno, praise, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), sexy polaroids, size kink, fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, pussy/breast worship, etc...I pet names. puppy (7)

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 5.8k

🍭 aus. model/photographer, non idol, strangers to lovers, etc...

☀️ mlist + an. this is a work of fiction intended to spark joy, if Jeno's recent controversies have affected you, please protect yourself and refrain from interacting with this post, and allow others to make the same decision for themselves. 

As a photographer, you’ve worked with your fair share of models. You’re familiar with their general ways of being, the highs and lows, the primadonas- the narcissism that lays the foundation for your profession-

And yet- you still find yourself being surprised by the new talent that fights tooth and nail to be on the receiving end of your attention. There are models who have studied your work, and enter your studio with wide eyes and breathy comments of grandeur. Then there are the models who see you as a cheque, a faceless, nameless camera that is there only to capture their beauty… they have little respect for the great task that befalls you as photographer.

Today, one of the models you’re working with fits neither category, and it’s hard for you to ignore.

Lee Jeno is an up-and-coming male model from Korea; he’s young, and there’s a glint of innocence in his eye that you notice the first time you snap a shot- but there’s also something else- something dangerous. Something that says, try me-

You’re not sure what to make of him, or the way he so easily flips between a man with a confident, smouldering stare, and an off-camera puppy who’s eager to please. But you do know that you enjoy the way he takes direction.

“Lift your chin up slightly,” you instruct, eyes fixed on your camera screen, watching the way a simple shift of his head can allow the perfect amount of light to caress his skin, “Just like that-” the shutter clicks; “Beautiful.”

The corner of his mouth twitches, a small movement, one that most people wouldn’t notice- but it’s your job to notice the smallest of details, and you don’t miss any of the subtle cues Jeno subconsciously throws your way.

Even when you direct him with two of the other female models visiting your studio, Jeno’s body language so often mirrors your own that it almost feels uncanny- things like the simple shift of his feet pointing toward you- something you keep adjusting him on- it’s becoming harder and harder to talk yourself out of the fact that Lee Jeno is interested in you as more than his photographer.

“Look her in the eyes,” you tell him, standing a mere foot or two away for a close-up between Jeno and another model. This is the first thing he’s having trouble with, as his gaze keeps shifting to you, anxiously looking for more and more direction as the shoot goes on- “take a breath, and when you’re ready, look into her eyes-”

He’s beautiful. Breathtaking really, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he tries for the shot again, looking at the girl in his arms with a certain kind of shyness that’s becoming rare in your profession-

“Chin up a little more again-” you urge- gnawing on your tongue, poised to take the photo-

Jeno follows through with the movement, and the angle is just so- allowing sunshine to cascade across his skin again, illuminating the deep, chocolatey brown of his irises-

The shutter snaps; a perfect moment captured in time.

You release the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

As you look over the photo, stepping to the side and allowing some other members of the crew to rush around and deal with the models, you realize that there’s a very real chance of you falling in love with the beautiful model who’s captured so much of your attention today.

You��ll have to be careful.

It’s late evening and you’re two glasses of wine deep into looking over the photos of the day when someone buzzes your front door. Despite everything in your head telling you that the person who’s arrived unannounced isn’t Jeno- something in your heart knows it is.

You take your time, laughing slightly to yourself, swirling your drink as you head down the small flight of stairs to your entryway. Just to be safe, you check through the peephole, and your heart nearly stops from the brief glimpse of the model who’d had your full attention not twelve hours ago.

Swallowing thickly, you open your front door, leaning in the archway with a cocked brow.

You give him a once over, examining the leather jacket, white shirt, black jeans outfit that should be more basic than sexy, except- he pulls it off so well-

You don’t bother with a hello, you jump straight to the point; “Did you forget something, mister Lee?”

“Jeno,” he corrects, and you watch his adam’s apple bob in amusement, “and uh- no, I didn’t forget anything.”

“Yet, here you are,” you tilt your head to the side, flashing a smile that captures his gaze. The man couldn’t be more obvious about his attraction to you if he tried- “Would you like to come in?”

He nods, as eager a motion as ever, licking his lips and following you past the threshold when you push the door wider for him.

“I had a good time during the shoot today,” he tells you, keeping up the same cordial manners he’d shown while on the job. He even flashes you a genuine smile, his eyes dazzling in their sincerity while he takes off his loafers in your awning.

As a photographer based in New York, you’re more than used to people leaving their shoes on when they enter your space- there’s something sweet about the careful, respectful way Jeno interacts with your home-

“I had a good time during the shoot today too,” you echo when you realize you’ve taken a moment too long looking at the model without saying anything, and you clear your throat before continuing; “You’re lovely to work with.”

“I’m lovely.” Now it’s his turn to repeat your words, smiling to himself- and you think he must enjoy the way the English tastes- you enjoy the way it sounds coming from him, the little accented tones- “Thank you.”

He’s so polite- you could really, really get used to this.

“Can I get you a drink?” you ask, as you head up the stairs to the main level of your home, the model following closely on your tail.

“I’ll have what you’re having,” he answers while you enter the kitchen.

Wine it is.

You don’t mind the quiet, don’t mind the way he watches you while you grab the bottle- it feels kind of nice to be the watched instead of the watcher, and within minutes you’re handing Jeno a wine glass and making your way towards the main studio area of your apartment, where you can relax in the safety of a familiar set.

“Take a seat,” you tell him, the instruction coming as naturally as the wave of your hand towards your sage green, sectional sofa.

Despite other sitting options, you choose to also get comfortable on the modular vintage piece you’d purchased last month, it’s one of your favorites, and it allows you to tuck your knees up, leaning an arm on the backrest while you angle towards the model.

Even with his loafers off, Jeno is dressed in a way that makes him stand out- at least, in comparison to you, who are in a mauve, silk sleeping set.

Your night plans hadn’t involved leaving your place of residence- Jeno’s obviously had.

“What time is it?” you ask, taking a sip of your wine while you watch Jeno get as comfortable as possible while in jeans on your sofa-

He pulls his phone out of his front pocket, which makes adjusting substantially easier, and tells you “almost midnight.”

“It’s still early for models, no?”

He lets out a small chuckle, pocketing his phone before taking off his leather jacket to throw over the back of the couch.

“Still early,” he confirms.

“So why aren’t you out at the clubs?” you cock your head to the side, sizing Jeno up again now that his jacket is off. “What brought you here?”

He swallows, shifting to face you, denim stretching across thick thighs when he lifts a knee to rest it on the couch. “I wanted to see you.”

“You saw me this afternoon,” you play coy, trying not to grin too hard at the way the model is inflating your ego.

Jeno licks his lips, hand smoothing against the fabric of your couch. “Wanted to see you alone.”

The word ‘alone’ almost feels like it echoes in the quiet night of your large studio room.

It’s just you and Jeno, nestled on your couch, amongst the various plants and items that make up the space.

There’s no one to witness this, no one except the moon, who shines brightly through your wall of windows, illuminating the model in the same loving manner that the sun had during the shoot.

“Do you do this often?” you ask, taking a sip of your wine and assessing the man over the rim of your glass.

“Do what?”

At first, you think Jeno might honestly not know what you’re implying, but then you see the shadow of a smirk work its way onto his lips, a glint of mischief sparking in his eye-

He’d seen the way you’d played coy just moments ago, when you’d told him he’d seen you in the afternoon, and he’d just shown you two can play that game.

After clearing your throat, you rephrase the question. “Do you often show up at a photographer’s house looking for a little… one on one attention?”

He smiles, meeting your gaze, and gives a small shake to his head - no -  taking a sip of his wine.

You wait on his next words.

“I liked the way you directed me during the shoot today.”

It’s a statement that surprises you- as is his next; “Can you show me some of the photos? I interrupted you while you were editing?”

He motions to the laptop that’s closed on the coffee table a few feet away - you’d abandoned it when your front bell had been rung - along with your tea, and phone, which is already on silent, as you should have been in bed a while ago-

You knew there’d been something urging you to stay awake and edit-

You’d thought it had been the images of Jeno’s back, exposed by wonderful styling-

But it had been the model himself, delivered to your door-

“I can show you the photos,” you tell him, reaching to set your glass of wine down next to the tea. Neither liquid is needed right now, your thirst is being quenched in a much more wonderful way-

“Did you-” Jeno’s words are quiet at first, but he clears his throat and repeats with more confidence, “Did you enjoy telling me what to do?”

You cast him a sideways glance while typing in your passcode, laptop opening to a closeup of Jeno’s face that you’d been inspecting.

“You’re very good at what you do,” you say delicately, still toeing the line-

If you tell him, point blank, that he’s a good boy- that he’s wonderful at taking direction - that you’ve been thinking about what he’d be like in bed- taking more directions-

Well, if you were to do any of those things- then this harmless flirtation would escalate to the next level- and as much as you enjoy Jeno, as much as he draws you in- you’re not really sure you’re willing to risk it- to risk your career, your reputation-

Jeno shifts closer to you, shoulder brushing up against your own while he bends down to look at the open laptop on the coffee table.

“The lighting-” he breathes, lips parting-

You watch Jeno inspect himself- inspect the version of himself that you’d captured hours ago; a beautiful, young stallion of a man- who could have the whole world in the palm of his hand if he wanted to.

You’re reminded of the Greek Narcissus, who had fallen in love with himself in a still pond reflection-

But Jeno does tear his gaze away from the photo - unlike the Grecian beauty who’d turned into a flower for want of looking at himself - and Jeno turns to you with eyes full of that same puppylike innocence that had bewitched you during the shoot.

“No one’s ever taken pictures of me like this before,” Jeno tells you, a line that makes you scoff.

“You’ve worked with photographers way better than me,” you insist, a self-depreciation that you follow through with a list of a few of your peers who’ve also had Jeno in their set-

“But the way you take photos,” the model cuts you off with a statement of his own, his hand coming down on your thigh-

You look down at his hand for a moment, and then back up. Your eyes meet and Jeno’s words die in his throat, his tongue darting out to wet his lips-

“Jeno,” when you say his name, you notice the way his gaze flickers between your eyes and mouth- “from now on, when I ask you things, I want you to answer honestly- can you do that for me?”

He nods, a hurried “yes” tumbling from him a moment later to pair with the motion.

“You’ve come to my studio, at midnight, to get me alone- you want to see the pictures-” he gives a small nod with each statement, “so why don’t you tell me, in detail, what you really want.”

“Hm?” he blinks.

“I said,” you rest your hand on top of his, the one that’s still on your thigh, “why don’t you tell me, in detail, what you want. I can’t direct you and have you be my good boy if you don’t make it clear what you need.”

“I need-” you watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly, breaking your gaze to look at your laptop again- then his eyes meet yours and he states, as clearly as possible, “I need you.”

“I assumed that much-” you say with a laugh, “I said I wanted details.”

He’s tensed now, broad shoulders all stiff, pupils blown- eyes darting everywhere. His lips part to say something, but in the end, he just sighs, musing, “I want what my director wants.”

“You like making me happy, is that it?”

You cock your head to the side, reaching out to gently drag your nails across Jeno’s cheek and down to his jaw- he leans into your hand, eyes closing, a soft sound of pleasure escaping him-

“You’re so eager to please, huh?”

“Yes,” he breathes, lids fluttering open again when you retract your hand- “Want to make you feel good.”

“Then you’re going to do a few things for me, okay?”

“Anything.”

You reach for your wine, closing the laptop before relaxing back into the corner of your sectional, eyes turning to Jeno. “How about you start by moving my coffee table off the carpet.”

His face shows his confusion, but Jeno stands all the same- reaching down for the furniture-

“Ah ah ah,” you tut, making the model freeze. “Don’t want you lifting it and having everything on top fall off- be good and go slow, take off all the items, move the table, then put them back.”

You watch him swallow, and he follows through, movements looking less frenzied and rushed.

He starts by taking your laptop and the two decorative photography books and setting them to the side.

He’s clearly aware of your gaze, watching him while he completes the task, and you can see the flush of his neck, betraying Jeno’s inner anxieties before he voices them, asking gently, “Can you tell me why I’m doing this?”

You stand up, and Jeno stops, turning his body to look at you- eyes widening-

Whatever he expects, it’s not for you to turn your back on him, crossing the studio toward the shelf of photography tools and memorabilia.

“You’re moving the coffee table,” you say, plucking up a polaroid camera, “so that when you get on your knees to eat me out, you don’t knock anything over.”

He gapes at you for a moment or two before hurrying back to his task.

You leave your wine glass on the shelf after one last sip, and then return to the sofa.

After you take your seat, you simply watch Jeno. He’s down to the final details, his hands mad scrambling for your laptop and design books.

When he’s done with your coffee table, it looks the same as it had before - decorative pieces and all - just a meter to the side, off the carpet.

And then Jeno is a foot away from you, dropping his knees to the braided jute rug-

“Eager puppy,” you coo, enjoying the way the model still holds that air of innocence, even while on his knees for you.

His hands are gentle when they reach for your form, warm palms cupping against the back of your knees- and then he’s tugging you forward, dragging your silk-set-covered core closer-

“Want you,” he states, with as much confidence as you’ve seen from him.

His eyes stare into your own, and you can’t help but set your camera down and lean forward, cupping his face so you can press your lips to his for the first time.

It’s a chaste kiss- but when you pull away, Jeno follows, hands finding leverage on your knees while he captures your bottom lip between his own, tongue gliding against its surface-

You stifle a groan, adjusting one hand on Jeno’s cheek while the other anchors onto his shoulder, fingers digging into the hard muscle you find there.

He gives a small tug to your pants, and it has you breaking the kiss in favor of lifting your hips-

Jeno may have told you he wanted direction, but he knows exactly what to do with you, no prompting needed: he tears your silk bottoms off.

His eyes immediately go to your core- and he lets out an animalistic sound when he finds you still in panties. His fingers hook past your waistband next, and in an instant, Jeno has you naked from the naval down.

His own shirt is quick to follow your clothing to the floor, exposing his broad shoulders, and muscular torso-

This time, when he adjusts your legs over his shoulders, he gets a full glimpse of your pussy, and you can see Jeno’s pupils blown with lust, even in the limited light of your studio.

The same way the model needed little direction with tearing your clothes off, he needs no direction when it comes to what to do next; he simply tugs you forward, burying his face between your thighs.

It’s the most you can do not to let out a desperate whine at the way he just goes for it- his tongue pressing into your hole, his nose brushing by your clit-

And his hands- they reach behind you, grabbing at your ass, forcing you harder onto his mouth-

Your fingers lace through his hair, anchoring you while your back arches, you’re propped up by the backrest while Jeno has you on the edge of your seat, his shoulders taking more of your weight as he burrows deeper and deeper into your pussy.

“Just like that-” you tell him, voice breathy in the silence of your studio-

Jeno growls against you, vibrations jittering through your body like magic-

His lips suction around your clit and your legs twitch around his head- you can feel a rush of wet between your thighs, can feel your orgasm building faster and faster in the pit of your stomach-

Then Jeno is pushing a digit into you, one long finger thrusting into your sopping heat while he flicks at your clit with a tongue intent on making you cum.

You can’t help but grind down against him now, tightening your grip in his hair so you can wiggle your hips-

A second finger enters you, both of them crooking up to brush by your sweet spot, earning a whimper of ecstasy that fills the room.

“You’re gonna make me cum-” you whine, closing your eyes and throwing your head back so you can focus on the feeling of him worshiping your pussy-

Your admission makes him go down on you even harder, lips suctioning around your clit again, making lewd wet noises while his fingers pump in and out of your hole, continuously brushing by the spot that makes you tingle-

“Jeno-” you gasp his name, a warning of what’s to come-

But you can’t say much else, your thighs locking around his head while he tips you over the edge, core fluttering around digits that pump you through your orgasm, tongue flicking at your clit-

A flurry of praises tumble out of you while you grind against the model’s face, using him for your own release- prolonging it-

Jeno works you through your orgasm, works out every last drop- his tongue as eager as ever to collect everything you have to offer him.

When you finally let go of his hair, body going slack, he knows you’re done, and he pulls his mouth from your core.

His fingers continue inside of you, slow, rhythmic pumps that quickly make you whine-

Opening your eyes, you find Jeno watching you.

His lips are a little swollen, they’re parted, allowing him to take steady breaths-

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Jeno had just cum- he’s giving major bedroom eyes, the dreamy kind of dazed expression a prince would bestow upon a princess-

You reach for your camera, lifting it and taking a quick polaroid-

The flash makes Jeno flinch, and you find yourself reaching out to cup his jaw, sweet assured nothings tumbling out of you in an effort to apologize for the camera flash-

The model leans into your touch, but he also plucks the polaroid as soon as it’s done, assessing it with eyes that flicker over the photo- before handing it to you.

“You got my best angle,” he remarks, as you take in the image for the first time.

He’s right- there’s something so… (for lack of a better word) endearing about Jeno-

This je ne sais quoi-

Especially when he’s between your legs, eyes lusty, lips puffy-

You’d taken a perfect photo, including only a little of your thighs on either side, capturing the main subject - Jeno - in a type of voyeuristic, sin skin framed vignette-

You lean back against your sofa to get a better look at the image, and Jeno moves slightly to follow, which prompts you to adjust your foot, pressing the ball against his shoulder to stop him-

“Did I say you could move?” you challenge.

Jeno’s lips part, and then he swallows thickly, shaking his head and sinking back to his knees patiently.

You allow your foot to slip over his shoulder again, leg once more relaxing on the large expanse of Jeno’s back.

“You’re good with your tongue,” you conclude finally, gaze shifting between him and the polaroid.

“Thank you.”

“And your hands too.”

“Thank you.”

He turns his head to the side kissing at the part of your leg that’s reachable-

He’s being so good for you- allowing you to control the tempo, the pace-

“How are you feeling, puppy?”

The pet name feels natural- you’ve said it once before, and Jeno had practically mewled in response.

The use of the name now makes Jeno shuffle on his knees, breaking your gaze-

“Want more,” he says quietly, bowing his head-

“Do you want more here? In my studio? Or would puppy prefer a bed?” You enjoy teasing him, enjoy the way ‘puppy’ feels on your tongue.

“Like, your room?” There’s interest in his eyes now, and it has your own core tingling at the prospect of allowing the model into your most sacred space-

“Yes, Jeno, my bedroom.”

You figure, he’s already made you cum once, the least you can do is give him a proper bed to fuck you in-

Besides, in the studio, it still feels like there’s a barrier between you. You still feel like photographer, and he still feels like the model- it will be nice to go to your bedroom with Jeno- with the man who’s made you question all your preconceived notions and prejudices around models.

None of the men in his profession whom you’ve entertained for a date have ever reached your bedroom.

You’re excited for Jeno to be the first.

He’s also excited, so excited that he jumps the gun a little, standing and grabbing you, tugging you to his chest in a bridal-style hold that has you giggling, juggling the photos and camera in your hands-

“Which way is your room?” he asks, already taking long strides towards the entrance you’d entered the studio through.

“Straight through the door, down the hall, last room on the right,” you tell him, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace.

It feels good to be carried- feels good to be made to feel small and light-

Jeno is five foot eleven inches of solid muscle, and you have no doubt his regular workouts involve a good amount of weight training; he definitely makes it seem like he’s used to lifting someone of your size.

While he carries you, you take the opportunity to admire his bare torso, the muscled pectorals- his bread basket abdomen-

Before you know it, he’s entering your room, and the two of you are collapsing onto your bed.

He gets you under him, slotting between your thighs while you abandon your camera to the side in favor of reaching for him, grasping at his strong, bare shoulders while his lips press to your own-

It’s an eager tangle of limbs, but as soon as Jeno gets solidified, you find yourself pinned; completely at the mercy of the large, all-muscled model, who ruts his hips against your own, dragging his denim-clad cock by your core-

“Jeno-” you whimper his name between a flurry of kisses, reaching one hand between your bodies to cup the front of his jeans-

He lets out a groan of pleasure, hips rutting, pressing himself into your hand-

“Take these off, and fuck me,” you tell him, remembering that - even though you’re in your bedroom now - you can still give commands.

He’s quick to follow through- and his follow-through involves rolling off of you and onto his own back, so he can fumble with his belt, lifting his hips to push the denim down-

You find yourself all but jumping on him the moment his cock springs free, your knees pressing into the bed on either side of his waist, your hand reaching between your bodies-

Jeno releases a moan when your fingers wrap around him, your thumb brushing past the head, swiping beads of precum across his skin-

His hands grasp your hips, adjusting you on top of him, and he looks up at you with lusty desperation-

You can’t help it- you reach for the camera discarded by his head, and you lift it to snap another polaroid while Jeno stiffens below you, muscles jumping to tensed glory-

“Such a pretty puppy,” you tell him, releasing a breath of pleasure from the mear sight of Jeno, while your free hand tightens more around his cock-

“Fuck-” he grunts, hips pressing up- length pushing through the grip of your hand- “Tell me what to do.”

“I already told you, take off your pants, which you’ve done- so, good boy-” you let out a laugh at the way Jeno reacts to the term of endearment, “and now,” you fan the polaroid, helping it develop faster- “fuck me.”

“Protection?” he asks, swallowing thickly- releasing your waist in favor of rubbing his thumb against your clit, prompting you to shift your hips just so-

“I’m clean and on the pill, you?”

“Clean-” he responds, left hand applying pressure for you to lift yourself up- “not on the pill.”

You release a laugh- and it’s stifled when Jeno adjusts his cock and helps you sink down onto it, his girth stretching you out deliciously.

You’re wetter than belief - from one orgasm and just from Jeno in general - so sliding down, inch by electrifying inch, is almost too easy.

Your camera is forgotten, as is the polaroid, and you discard them to the side in favor of your palms falling flat onto Jeno’s shoulders. His own hands are tight on your waist, aiding you in your first movements- lifting up and sinking back down-

Moans of pleasure fill your bedroom, the feeling of Jeno’s cock dragging against your walls is too much to bear silently- and your nails dig down against his skin, helping you grip him as tightly as your pussy is gripping his length.

Then he’s tugging at your shirt, the word “off?” prompting you to get yourself fully naked in seconds, nipples peaking to the coldness of the room-

But they’re not cold for long, as Jeno is quick to sit up, capturing one in his hot mouth while the other is pinched between two shockingly gentle fingers-

“Jeno-” you whimper his name, pussy clenching around him at the feeling of his attention being focused on your chest-

With him sitting up, it’s easier than ever to use his shoulders as leverage for your movements, and his free hand finds your hip, urging you to bounce faster on his lap.

“You feel so good-” you tell him, throwing your head back while you ride closer and closer to an orgasm-

The man beneath you releases your nipple, hungry mouth moving up your neck- he grabs your jaw, forcing your lips to his own.

His other hand goes flat to the bed, allowing him some leverage to thrust up and meet your motions-

He eats up your noises and returns them with pleasured sounds of his own, his cock burying deep inside your pussy with each bounce on his lap-

You break your kiss, latching onto his shoulders while you gasp in his ear- “I’m cumming baby, don’t stop-”

And suddenly you’re rolling.

Suddenly you’re on your back, and Jeno is above you, adjusting your legs around his hips-

“Touch your clit?” he asks - his first real request - and your hand flies between your thighs.

Being on top had made Jeno feel as deep as ever- but with him hovering over you, his own powerful hips rutting against yours to dictate everything- you realize Jeno is simply big.

Both positions feel equally wonderful- your pussy filled deliciously with every thrust-

And your fingers glide easily over your clit, making your whole body tingle with ecstasy that gets closer and closer to fruition until you’re over the edge again.

You throw your head back against the pillows, eyes closing so you can focus on the waves of pleasure that threaten to overtake you while Jeno continues to fuck you as if his life depends on it-

He’s making the prettiest sounds- and you grab at him, smoothing your fingers through his hair while you bring his lips to your own.

You’re intent on breathing him in- on hearing every noise- and he’s more than eager to kiss you, with the same ferocity as his hips-

“Gonna cum for me?” you ask, still tingling with wonderful pleasure that’s definitely bordering on overwhelming now-

You want him to cum so badly, want your young stallion model boy to fall over the edge with you-

He releases a grunt of affirmation, but it’s not good enough for you.

You continue to thread your fingers through his hair, forcing your eyes open to look at him-

“Jeno-” you coo, stealing a chaste kiss- “please cum, you’ve done so well- cum for me-”

He lets out his loudest moan yet, burying his face in your neck, mouth playing feverish kisses against your throat while he continues to fuck you wildly-

“Come on-” you breathe, trailing one hand down his gorgeous back- reveling in the muscles you can trace there-

You still have one hand playing with your clit, and the bucking of Jeno’s hips is quickly building you to yet another orgasm, that you definitely hadn’t been expecting-

“Fuck, Jeno-”

He kisses you desperately, thrusts faltering when your pussy squeezes his length. You can feel him cumming too- coating your walls while he continues to pump into you, pinning you to the mattress with his large body-

You grasp for his shoulders, dragging your hands across muscle while you eat up his moans, your lips and tongues colliding.

His pace gradually starts to slow down and soon he’s still on top of you.

You’re kissing lazily now- and you’re the one to break it, pulling back just enough to prompt Jeno to give you space.

He looks at you with hazy, bedroom eyes, while he catches his breath, and his lips are downright enticing-

“That was really good,” you tell him, brushing your fingers up and down his back.

Jeno buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing hot kisses there to show his enjoyment of your praise- and then his lips find your ear.

“Was I your good puppy?” he asks, gently nipping at your lobe-

His hips rut forward- he’d never truly slipped out of you after cumming, and now… you can feel him starting to stiffen again-

“Of course,” you coo, threading your fingers through his hair, gently running your nails across his scalp, “you’re my best puppy-”

“Yeah?” He kisses your pulse point.

“Uh huh-” you relax against your pillows, letting out the most contented breath of your life. “And what pretty photos I took too-”

He groans, gently rocking his hips against yours again-

“You’ll be good and spend the night, won’t you puppy?” you ask, tone turning mischievous when you add; “It feels like you still have some energy I could enjoy.”

Jeno lets out a sound of affirmation, kissing at your jaw-

He’s your good model, always taking directions.

And now, he’s your good puppy too- wrapped around your finger and eager to agree to whatever you ask.

You know there’s no hope of a conventional relationship- afterall, he’s an international model and you’re New York based-

You don’t have any romantic notions about traveling together, or pinning the angel down- no, you’re realistic about it. Realistic about the way your bodies respond to each other, and the purpose you both serve in inflating the other’s ego-

He’ll be your secret-  your lovely puppy.

He’ll be whatever he ends up being.

But for now, you simply enjoy the feeling of having his complete and undivided attention while he thanks the gods that he has yours.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! i don't often do dom leaning y/n's, so this was new for me, but i really enjoyed the way it turned out :)

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. As much as you call Jeno puppy- as much as he gets on his knees for you- the man knows exactly what he’s doing in regard to making you cum. He could have all the power if he wanted, and the thought of that has been scaring you a little as of late-

cw/ tw. oral (f receiving), fingering, pussy whipped Jeno, unprotected sex, praise, mentions of male masturbation, multiple orgasms, etc...

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 1.5k I teaser wc. 380

🌙 staring. jeno x afab!Reader  

bonus teaser

You’re sitting in your kitchen, sipping your drink and looking over the photos you’d taken last night.

Your collection of polaroids gets bigger and bigger every time your model and part-time loverboy comes to town, and you’ve begun to enjoy the process of adding them to a special photobook complete with a lock and key.

To have Jeno trust you with the pictures- it fills your heart with something unexplainable, a warmth that licks at you every time you open the book to wistfully recount your past experiences with the angelic man who’d been delivered to your doorstep months ago after a shoot.

The first few photos hold special weight for you, the innocence you’d captured in his eyes has remained, but it’s less so now, replaced - in part - by a confidence that one gains when they spend a great deal of time with another.

There’s a similar confidence in the warm hands that smooth across your shoulders, announcing the arrival of the man in question, who molds his bare torso against your back, leaning over your chair so he can see what you’re up to.

“Hi,” he says, his lips brushing past your cheek.

“Morning sleepy,” you smile, turning your head to the side so you can capture his lips in a chaste kiss. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” Jeno straightens, heading around the island counter to grab himself some coffee. “I always get the best sleep here.”

His statement makes you happier than you can say, so you don’t say anything, opting to simply watch the lovely, very shirtless, man, as he slowly starts his morning.

“What time are you heading to the fashion show today?” you question after a few beats of silence.

Jeno looks up at you from where he’s stirring his coffee, and then he lets out a small knowing chuckle. “Not for a few hours.”

“Don’t give me that look, puppy,” you release a laugh of your own. “You know I try to let you retain your energy for days when you work… but after…”

“Don’t want after,” Jeno insists, abandoning his coffee in favor of approaching you again, forcing you to turn in your chair so he can slot between your knees while he captures your hands, lacing your fingers- “Want now.”

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© smileysuh — all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any fic, reaction, or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed

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[verflares]

(draconifies your zelink) oh whoops lol

+ an extra pic of em hanging out together :]

btw, you can find these guys on inprnt! both as a pair, or apart :] You Choose.

[zoe-oneesama]

“Weird” the only people akumatized were people who’ve already been akumatized, have a Gigantitan cameo.

Episode 52 Part 16 First < Previous > Next Season 1, Season 2, Season 3, Season 4, Season 5 Ep 41, Ep 42, Ep 43, Ep 44 Ep 45, Ep 46, Ep 47, Ep 48, Intermission, Ep 49, Ep 50, Ep 51

Ko-fi | Patreon

[proxycrit]

Yall really like these guys with wings so here’s some more doodles! Im busy with commission work and won’t be active for a good while, but I’ll try to post more doodles ever so often. (Ahh the joy of drawing my favorite guys… it fills me with joy.)

[shepscapades]

[dbhc flavored] Hermit a Day May: Day 13 — Cub!

I’ve been waiting to design cub for AGES so this was so so fun :D had to go out of my way to make him as much of a Freak (/aff) as possible <3

[starry-bi-sky]

Out of Context Stuff for a Danyal Al Ghul au i haven't posted - Pit Beast Danyal

Damian, 13: Look, Danyal, -- I am so sorry for everything that happened between us in the League, I hope you can forgive me.

Danny, 10 (allegedly): (has been secretly plotting to murder Damian this whole time, is still gonna do it obvs, but is going to make it significantly less painful now)

Danny: I-- of course, older brother. :]

--------

Bruce: what do you have there, Damian?

Damian:

Danny: (a hulking 10ft pit beast standing beside him, growling idly with ram horns gouging out his eyes and a second set of horns jutting into the air, spines down his back, and a long, spiked tail with an animalistic, skull-like face)

Damian, who smuggled him in (they've made amends): a smoothie, father

----------

Damian: this is my little brother Danyal, i murdered him when he was five. He festered in rage for the last half-a decade, took over a League mountain base in Switzerland, murdered everyone inside and then tried to murder me when I went to investigate with Drake.

Danny: hello!

Damian: we're cool now

----------

Damian: thoughts on resurrection

Danny, (a full ghost): i will succeed in murdering you if you try it

Damian: we'll put a pin in it then

----------

Danny (still instilled with League values): why don't we just murder him??

Damian, on patrol (Danny followed him): we don't murder people, Danyal

Danyal:,,,,are you sick, Dami?? Have you been possessed? Why not!?

(There is raucous laughing through the comms)

----------

Danny, five, pre-death: Dami! :D

Danny, dead, vengeful: Older brother (:

Danny, post-forgiveness: Dami! :]

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For some actual context: Danny is fully dead in this au, its a result of the classic DPxDC Demon Twins "death duel" trope but instead of Danny getting revived, he stays fully dead. Danny was five, Damian was seven. His ghost lingered though, and due to the proximity of the pits his ghost steadily absorbed the ambient energy it was letting off. The pits are not corrupted ectoplasm in this au, it's just liquid ecto.

Which means Danny's corruption from an angry and hurt little ghost boy to an unrecognizable monster is from his own doing. It's a result of him stewing in his hurt and anger for years, it physically warped him. He's very powerful. Danny can travel between League Bases but chose a small, out-of-the-way base in the Swiss mountains to fester in and then just. Never Left.

His influence steeped into the very foundations of the building, allowing him to transform and warp the rooms and hallways for his own bidding, Meaning he could turn it into a seemingly unending labyrinth if he so wished to, and block the entrance.

Eventually, blinded (both metaphorically and physically) by his own rage, Danny grew powerful enough to appear physically in the living realm and attacked everyone in the base, slaughtering them all and leaving the base abandoned. He attacks anyone who dares enter -- whether that be other league members, or the unfortunate hiker who stumbled across the base. His conscious is steeped into every nook and cranny of the building, there is nowhere you can hide where he can't find. Nobody leaves without his explicit say so. Nobody ever does.

Him appearing as ten years old before Damian in the skits above is his own physical doing. First it was to prevent Damian from being suspicious of him. Damian initially thought Danny was revived with the pits, he was too busy with his own training afterwards to notice that Danny never showed up again, and when he did notice, he assumed it was because Danny was too ashamed of his loss to face him. He'd always forget to ask about him.

Then it becomes a personal choice to appear as ten. It's how old he would've been had he been alive.

danny forgiving Damian is kinda for an offshoot branch of the main au. Whereas the main au takes the form of a ps4 first person horror game where Damian and Tim are investigating the Base for Plot Reasons. There's no sign of the rumored "monster" living inside until the end, where Danny, who was found inside the Base and has been happily "helping" them look around, manages to persuade Damian into splitting off from Tim in order to "show him something."

This something turns out to be Danny revealing that he never really forgave Damian for that fight, and he reveals through a horrifying transformation, that he was the monster the whole time. Which the game subtly hints at throughout as Danny's strange behavior becomes harder to ignore.

First from his insistence to only refer to Damian as "older brother" (when before the duel he always called him Damian or Dami), to him right off the bat denying the existence of a monster when questioned. ("There's no monster here, older brother. It's just me.") To other various things, like his knowledge of the outside world not matching up to modern times or things going on with the league outside of the base, or what happened to the other league members.

This whole idea was inspired by the song "Scylla" from Epic the Musical, with Danyal being the voice of Scylla as well as Odysseus, while Damian stands as Eurylochus. The instrumentals after Scylla says "hello" is him turning into the pit beast, and Scylla's "drown in your sorrow and fears" part is danny, as the pit beast, snarling at Damian while he attacks him.

There's a Good Ending, a Bad Ending, and a True Ending. The Bad Ending results in Damian being killed by Danny, it happens when Damian decides not to question or suspect Danny and treats him kindly. The Bad Ending is a cutscene, where Danny kills Damian quick and painlessly.

Meanwhile the Good Ending is Damian killing Danny. This is a boss fight, and it happens when Damian treats Danny coldly and suspiciously the whole time. Danny as a result, decides to make Damian's death painful as he had planned to, which is why it's a boss fight because it only causes him to double down on his anger.

The True Ending is Damian escapes with Tim. It happens when you treat Danny warmly up until the last minute, where when Danny proposes to Damian that he wants to show him something, Damian goes to talk to Tim and finally, reluctantly agrees that something is off with Danny, and that he'll be careful going in. It starts off with the boss fight until a third through, where it then changes to a cutscene where Tim manages to get the door open and Damian escapes out. It's then a chase scene down a never-ending hallway as the building actively works to keep you trapped inside. But you eventually make it to the exit so long as you avoid all the projectiles and doors.

Remember when I mentioned that Danny only lets people leave when he wants them to? That's where the treating Danny kindly throughout the game comes into play. It causes him to second guess himself and, eventually, reawaken and strengthen the love and admiration he had for Damian prior to his murder. It's why in the Bad Ending he kills Damian quickly -- because by then, he loves him enough that he doesn't want him to suffer, but is still so consumed by his rage and need for vengeance that he kills him anyways. That quiet part is what allows Damian (and Tim) to find the exit, because some part of Danny still loves Damian enough that he wants him to live.

The True Ending ends with a cutscene of Damian and Tim tumbling out into the snow/grass outside of the base. Damian looks up back to the entrance to see Danny standing there. But rather than a ten year old boy, there's a little five year old Danyal Al Ghul instead. He stares at Damian emotionlessly, blood seeping from his chest, staining his clothes, and little, bloody sword in his hands and tearstains on his cheeks, before he turns away and disappears back into the building.