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daechwitatamic · 11 months ago

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The Price || MYG

banner by @/itaeewon

The Price

Rating: NSWF - minors do not have my consent to interact Genre: Snow White and the Huntsman!au, angst, smut, unhappy ending WC: 8k

Summary: The Queen is responsible for everything you call yours: your home, your job, your freedom. You live without laying claim to anything else, lest the Queen leverage more in exchange for her grace. But the Queen has just named her latest price: the life of the young blacksmith, Min Yoongi.

Warnings: language, drinking, there’s a plague and it’s a problem, reader’s parents died (see the previous warning lol) and there are scenes of her grieving process, reader is a hunter so there’s mentions of animal carcasses and hides, lots of mentions of reader’s big fancy knife, a murder attempt, kissing, nip stim, groping, fingering, clit stim, penetrative sex (protection not mentioned either way), reader on top, angst, unhappy/ambiguous ending

A/N: Part of the Make Me Your Villain collab! Please give the other authors a lot of love!!! Huge huge huge thank you to @/here2bbtstrash for beta-ing!

Mirror, mirror - look and see. Who might take this throne from me? Mirror, mirror - who's the threat? Show me which boy's blood to let.

There are pros and cons to living outside the village. The pros are that you’re mostly left alone - you live by your own laws, most of the time. It’s better this way; you come and go as you please, you don’t worry about latest fashions or gossip, you aren’t under the thumb of any societal niceties or norms. You concern yourself more with what the forest tells you. Bad weather, humans who don’t belong, sickness on the horizon - the forest knows it all, and you know how to listen.

You knew about the plague - in a vague, something isn’t right here kind of way - days before the first villager fell sick. You didn’t see anything bigger than a possum for three days - you knew something was in the air. It was the baker first, then his wife. Now it’s made its way into the castle, the guards and servants falling like flies.

Another pro - you won’t pick up illness from the baker if you make your own bread in your tiny cabin in the woods.

The main con - the only con, really - is that when you make your weekly trek to the castle to present the King and Queen with your scores (deer, mostly, but usually a few fowl too) it takes so damn long to get there.

It would be faster on foot, much faster, but you have to load your kills onto a cart and take the dirt road, which winds and twists and takes its time. Today your cart is loaded: venison, fowl, a few rabbits, even a fox. That had been a good score. The Queen likes furs - she’ll pay you well for it.

But the trip into town once a week is a fair price for your freedom, you think.

A few vendors through the heart of town wave hello as you pass. You lift your hand in response but don’t stop. You’ll shop after, when your cart is empty and your purse is full. For now, you stay on the main road until it changes over from tamped-down dirt to cobblestone to, eventually, flat stone that leads to the bridge over the castle’s moat.

The usual guard, the one who knows your face and always waves you through, isn’t there. You wonder if the plague reached him, if he’ll recover or if they’ll send his body to the sea like all the others.

You show identification, the card nearly illegible due to how many times it’s been folded and stuffed into your shoe for safekeeping, and this new guard waves you on.

As usual, you stop in the courtyard just inside the first set of walls. You hop down and start undoing the straps of the fabric you have over the top of the cart. Two guards join you, and they begin moving your scores down from the cart. Each is weighed and given a quick once-over as a scribe stands to the side recording it all.

“Make sure you mention how nice that hide is,” you tell him, pointing at the fox. “I got that one special, for her.”

The scribe rolls his eyes a little, but you see him peer at the fox and scribble something on his little parchment. When they’re done, your cart empty, the scribe rolls his paper up and leads you up the steps towards the main doors to the castle. You flip one of the guards a silver coin and follow the scribe. As you head up the steps, you hear the sound of your horse’s feet moving across the stone, the cart creaking and groaning behind him, as the guard you paid takes him to be cared for.

Inside, you follow the thick, red carpet into the throne room. You’re surprised to see only the Queen present, but you school your face and drop into a bow anyway, your forehead brushing the soft carpeting.

When you rise, you see the scribe has handed her the parchment, and she reads over the report of your goods. You wait, knowing better than to speak until she has.

“A good week,” she observes.

“Yes, your Grace,” you say, eyes on the carpet. “I was pleased as well.”

“Are you well?” she asks as she signals for her Chief of Coin, who scurries close to the throne and lowers his head to hear her whispers.

“Quite well,” you say automatically, though you’re not sure what exactly she’s asking. Does she mean your health? Your home?

The Chief of Coin makes his way to you and you pull your practically-empty purse from your back pocket.

“You have need of nothing?” she asks.

This would be your opportunity to ask after anything major - repairs on your home, medicine, anything you couldn’t get during your walk back through town.

“No, your Grace,” you say. “I had need of a new blade, but the local smith took my request.”

The local smith and your new blade are one of your stops on your way home.

“I��ve heard from the citadel,” she tells you, and you pull your eyes away from the Chief of Coin to look at her. “They say your brother is doing well. He’s applying himself to his studies.”

When you’d lost your parents, you’d begged to keep your brother yourself, desperate to keep him away from the citadel’s orphanage. You were of age, could handle yourself. You could handle him, too, you’d argued.

The King had considered this. Your family was well-known in the village, and your father had hunted for the crown for many years. Your brother was only about five years out from finishing his schooling.

You were investments, you and your brother.

In the end, the deal had been struck - the crown would see to the rest of his education under the condition that when he finished he’d work for the crown, pay back his debt, begin to build his own name.

And, in the meantime, you’d take over the hunting. You could keep your family’s little cabin out in the woods, away from town. Your brother wouldn’t be apprenticed off to a stranger.

It was an easy deal to agree to.

“We’re grateful for the opportunity,” you say to the Queen. “If the report said anything less, I’d travel there to knock sense into him, myself. He’s at that age. You know.”

You try to bite back a cringe. The Queen might not know. She’d never been able to bear a child for the King.

She smiles at this, thinly. “Very well,” she says, and you take back your now-heavy purse from the Chief of Coin. “Then I shall see you next week. I wish you continued health in the upcoming days.”

You nod your head. “I wish the crown health and longevity,” you say. Head bowed, you miss the way her eyes tighten.

–

You pick up the goods you need - eggs, flour, and the like - on your way through town. You eye the tavern, tempted to stop for a pint. Alas, you are embarrassingly excited to get your new blade, so instead you carry on down the road towards the smithy.

After tying up your horse - though he’s a lazy thing and probably wouldn’t wonder anyway, not with the cart hitched up - you head inside, following the sounds of a hammer striking metal.

You wait until there’s a break in the noise and then shout a hey back towards the open door to let the team know they have a customer.

There’s the sound of a heavy instrument being dropped to the ground, and you catch yourself smoothing your hair back. Stop it, you scold yourself, scowling.

That’s the face that greets the youngest of the smithing team, Min Yoongi, as he steps into the shop, blinking as his eyes adjust to the light.

“Ah,” he says, lips curling into a smirk. “Is it Thursday already?”

“Is my blade ready?” you ask, ignoring both his self-satisfied grin and his question. “Park Jihoon said I could get it today.”

At his boss’s name, Yoongi’s smirk fades until he’s all business again. He turns to the wall, where special orders are tacked. He searches until he finds yours.

“It’s ready,” he grunts, reading the slip of parchment. “Wait here.”

He disappears into the back again, returning with a hefty-looking blade, sheathed in a leather case.

He places it on the counter between you, pulls the blade from its case and turns it over so you can see each side.

You frown. “I didn’t order engraving on the case,” you say, jutting your chin towards the delicate design at the top. It curls in and around itself, all the way around. “I’d better not have to pay extra for that.”

“Ah, but he worked so hard on it!” Park Jihoon says cheerfully, appearing out of the back and clapping Yoongi on the shoulder. You keep your eyes on the knife; Yoongi looks steadfastly at the wall with the orders, a pink flush working up his neck.

“It’s not extra,” he mutters.

“I’m heading to Bridgeport,” the senior blacksmith tells Yoongi. “I’ll be back before sundown. You’ll be okay here?”

“Of course I will,” Yoongi says, disgruntled. Jihoon nods goodbye at you both and moves through the door, leaving you in silence.

“What’s the price?” you ask, placing your purse on the counter and digging for coins. He turns the paper over so you can see what his boss wrote, and you slide him the payment. You work on attaching the blade’s sheath to your belt, ignoring how Yoongi watches you through heavy-hooded eyes.

You know that look. You are ignoring that look.

“Lovely,” you say, once you’re situated and ready to go. You swipe up your purse and toss it once, catching it deftly. “Have fun pounding on metal, or whatever.”

His grin is razor-sharp. “I’d be happy to pound something else, if you want.”

The laugh rips out of you, unbidden and unwanted. “Disgusting,” you tell him, but the laughter takes the bite out of the words. “My God, you ought to throw yourself down the well for that.”

He lifts a brow, his smile turning less dangerous and more open.

You laugh again, shaking your head. “None of that today, thanks. I’ll be off.”

“Come on,” he cajoles, coming around the counter to follow you to the door. “You know you want some. It’ll be such a long ride back here when you change your mind later.”

“Keep dreaming, blacksmith,” you tell him, lips pursing in amusement.

He lays a hand over his heart like he’s wounded. “Blacksmith? You remembered my name just fine last week when you were -.”

“Well, I seem to have forgotten it again!” you blurt before he can finish the thought, pulling the door open. Over your shoulder you call, “Good day!”

His laughter rings out onto the street, following you home.

Regretfully, you have to admit that out of everyone who lives in this village, built out from the castle’s western gate, you know the most about Min Yoongi.

You knew him in passing, of course - before. When you’d ride through this same village on this same cart, your little brother squeezed between you and your father. When you’d stand silently, peeking around your father’s side, while he took payment from the King for his scores. When you’d greet the peddlers and the shop-keepers politely before climbing back on the cart and riding all the way back home.

Yoongi was just an apprentice then. You hadn’t paid him any mind. He was quiet, a bit scruffy, stayed close to Park Jihoon. He was no more interesting to you than the apprentice for the bakery, the tannery, the copywrite. Wasn’t even the best looking out of the bunch, honestly.

He was just there, unassuming. He was there when you’d pass through town on the cart full of your father’s scores, there whenever your family had business with the blacksmith, there when the holidays rolled through and your mother dragged you into town in a dress you hated and shoes that pinched.

There the day your parents’ bodies, along with six others, were loaded onto a barge headed for the sea. There the day your brother joined four more young people from the village as they climbed into a deep blue carriage headed for the citadel.

Yoongi’s dark eyes, cool and undemanding, had been on you as you stood fully alone for the first time in your life.

You hadn’t paid him any attention then, either. You couldn’t pay mind to anything then except dragging yourself through dark day after dark day until, finally, the clouds seemed to part and your new life seemed bearable. And bearable turned into decent. And decent turned into enjoyable.

The seasons turned. The hurts faded.

And you began to pay mind to Min Yoongi.

You began to learn things about him, then - after.

In your time around town, you learned first that he was good at his work - his blades were made well, easily as well as his master’s blades. You learned that he scowled and grunted but hardly ever meant it. You learned that he had a good reputation around the village - was known for helping his neighbors without being asked, known for being polite and keeping to himself. You learned that he had no family either, that the master blacksmith who’d taken him as an apprentice had more or less raised him, too.

Alone with him, you learned that his smile could be razor sharp, one side lifting and eyes glinting in a way that made your pulse sing. You learned that when he meant it, his eyes squeezed shut and his gums showed. His shoulders shook when he laughed. He made the funniest faces when someone said anything he didn’t agree with or didn’t understand. He’d grown strong, his craft shaping his arms and roughening his hands.

You learned that he took whiskey neat at the tavern when he was done working for the day. You learned that he had a smart mouth behind his quiet demeanor, and opinions about everything. You learned what he was willing and able to do with that mouth when he pressed you against the rough wood of the tavern’s side alley, and then later, back in his rooms behind the smithy.

You learned that he fucked rough but loved soft.

And that was where it had to stop.

Because it couldn’t be - but this you knew the whole time.

When he pressed his mouth to yours sweetly, stretching to reach you, brushed one lovely finger down your cheek and whispered, I want you, you knew this: it couldn’t be.

There was no life for you in the village. There was no life for you as someone’s wife. There was no future for you as someone’s homemaker.

Even if he could somehow give you partnership and love without taking away the wildness of your lifestyle - there was no love ready to bloom and grow behind your iron ribs. You had nothing you could give him back. You knew only survival. Only killing and coin. Only the forest and its secrets.

“You can’t have me,” you’d whispered back. “I am not to be had.”

You were surprised when he didn’t fight it. He hadn’t pushed back. He hadn’t held it against you, hadn’t been wounded. He’d accepted exactly what you were willing to give him and asked for nothing more.

You know this, above all else: he’s sweet, and conscientious, and good. Yoongi is good.

You - forest-dweller, hunter, orphan, unmannered, uneducated - don’t deserve him. You aren’t enough for how good he is.

The royal physician’s face says it all.

The Queen purses her lips, her eyes on her husband’s prone form. He meets her gaze weakly, too far gone to mask any of it.

“How long?” she asks, the words clipped.

The physician spreads his hands before him. “Impossible to say, your Majesty. Days, maybe. Weeks, if he can be strong.”

She scoffs. “Days it shall be, then.” She dismisses him with the wave of a hand.

No one is surprised, she thinks. The plague would breach their walls eventually. Only the strong survive - of course it would be her husband who would succumb first, and quickly. He’d never been strong, not like her.

After all, she was the one who tried all these years. She looked and acted the part of a partner. She was faithful. She focused on the crown, on the realm.

Not like him.

He coughs as he shifts on the bed, and she looks at him again. Weak, she thinks again. She can only feel disgust for him, for everything he never gave her.

“You’ll finally get what you always wanted,” he croaks.

She turns to look out the window. The day is grey, dreary.

“It seems I shall,” she agrees. Then she turns and walks closer to her husband’s sickbed - deathbed, perhaps. She drops delicately into the chair at his side and takes his clammy hand in hers.

It might look as if she doted on him. It might look as if she mourned.

“What became of him?” she asks, voice even and unbending. “The boy.”

Her husband’s eyes crinkle with amusement, and the chuckle that rumbles from his chest is accompanied by pained coughing.

“You truly are something, my Queen,” he says, shaking his head. “The boy doesn’t even know.”

He will say nothing else.

The Queen is delivered two things at once, not a week later.

The first, a gilded mirror, promised to possess magical ability.

The second, the expected news of her husband’s passing.

The realm begins its period of mourning, flags lowering, shutters closing. The Queen begins her incantations, alone in the southernmost tower of the keep.

The frame is made of ornately twisted gold, so heavy it takes two of her men to hang it for her. When they pull the dust cover off, she steps back to appraise it.

“Pretty,” she observes, watching her own reflection in the glass - unmagical, unextraordinary.

The swirling, green-hued mist doesn’t appear before her reflection until her men are dismissed, the door closing and leaving her alone.

Your Majesty, the mirror intones, the voice coming from the depth of the mist. Your wish is my command.

The Queen pauses, considering. The throne, the throne - hers, finally, only hers.

Unless.

The King’s last words to her ring through her head - the boy doesn’t even know.

She raises her chin and chants,

“Mirror, mirror, look and see…

Who could take this throne from me?

Mirror, mirror, who’s the threat?

Show me which boy’s blood to let.”

The mist, green and growing, takes over the glass. The Queen’s fists clench tightly at her sides.

The mist clears. The Queen lets out a laugh, short and bitter.

The blacksmith’s boy smiles shyly in the glass, one hand coming up as if to hide his face.

The blacksmith’s boy. The king’s bastard. Her only threat, the only other claim to her throne.

Your next trip into town isn’t with a cart full of venison and fowl. Instead it rings more true to the holidays of old, with your mother in charge. You wear black and a scowl, just as you did then.

The funeral services for the King threaten to last the full day, maybe into the night. You wish you could abstain, but if ever there was an event you were obligated to attend - this would be it.

You’re not sure what the King’s death means for you - for your brother. Will the Queen uphold the bargain? Does she still want your brother’s counsel, someday, when he’s of age? Without the King’s affection for your father, will she continue to allow you to live freely as part of the arrangement?

You sit alone in the church pew; rather, you’re surrounded on either side by strangers. You know Yoongi’s in the crowd somewhere - you can feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your head. You don’t turn to look for him. What good would it do?

It’s well after dark when the town begins to file out into the night. Your stomach growls, and you ponder if you should stop for a hot meal at the tavern before making the trek back through the woods or if you can hold out until you’re safely back at home.

You’re stopped on your way out the door by a guard reaching across you, blocking your path.

“Her Majesty requests your audience,” he says gruffly, and you feel the hairs on your neck stand at attention. Your audience?

It can’t be good. You’re sure of it.

You don’t meet her in the throne room as you have in the past. Instead, the guard leads you to a small chamber off the chapel, a nondescript little room with no decor, only a table with a candelabra lit in the center.

She’s seated, and it’s so cramped in the room that it’s hard to properly bow, but you do your best.

“Is my brother well?” you blurt out as soon as the guard has closed the door behind you. It was the first, biggest concern you had - you couldn’t hold it in. Had something happened in the citadel?

She inclines her head, shrouded in darkness. “I asked you here because I need something done. You seem, somehow, to be my best option.”

You duck your head, flooded with relief. “I’m at your service, as always.”

And you are. You owe the crown everything - the home you were allowed to keep, your brother’s education, your income. Your freedom, as conditional as it is.

The Queen seems to think before she speaks, and when she does each word is short and deliberate.

“There’s someone I need gone,” she says, her voice giving away no emotion. No sign of grief from the widow, no sign of trepidation from the new ruler, no sign of regret from the human asking you to take a life. “A threat to my throne. I’ll pay five times our normal scale. And I’ll pay you for your discretion, as well, on an ongoing basis.”

You respond with silence. You can’t process quickly enough - you don’t know what to tell her.

The only thing you can tell her is yes. She holds your whole world in her hands.

But if you tell her yes, then you have to do it. Can you kill a person, can you pretend it’s no different from cutting a rabbit’s throat?

Could you tell her yes and then leave? Vanish into the forest? What would become of your brother, if you did? Would he be responsible for your sins?

Five times your normal price could do a lot for you. You could send finer clothes to your brother, help pay for his books, maybe even a little spending money. You could fix up the cabin - patch the roof where it leaks, reinforce the cellar the way you’ve thought about for years.

And payment for your silence - ongoing? For how long, forever?

None of it matters. You can’t say no to the Queen.

“Yes, your Majesty,” you hear yourself say. Your stomach is a block of ice, turning over and over with the tide. “I am yours to command.”

You know it. She knows it.

“The blacksmith’s boy,” she says coolly, and you aren’t even surprised. It’s like part of you knew, somehow. Part of you has been waiting for this ending all along. Isn’t this exactly why you’d never let him get too close? There was never a happy ending in the stars - not for you.

She accepts your silence as acquiescence and adds, “Tonight.”

“Tonight?” you repeat, voice coming out too wispy.

She meets your gaze, still cold. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” you say, the only correct answer. But your mind is scrambling far away, getting ahead - what weapons do you have on hand, how will you do this -

“You didn’t strike me as softhearted,” she says, full of disdain.

“I’m not,” you defend. It’s just that it’s Yoongi. Yoongi, who sees your sharp edges and smiles because he knows firsthand how much sharp edges are worth. How - how - how can you? How can you pretend it’s just a hunt, just a necessity, when you know how his mouth tastes, how he looks at you like you’re something?

Her even look turns darker, a shade closer to a frown. “I know you have the stomach and skill to kill. And I know you dally with him. He’ll follow you - take him to the woods and be done with it.”

You haven’t been as discrete as you thought you had. You wonder who else in town knows about whom you dally with.

Not that it will matter, after tonight. Not if you follow orders.

Not when you follow orders.

“Yes, your Majesty,” you say, head bowed.

There’s no other correct answer. Your freedom had always had a price.

–

There’s some poetic irony, you think, in killing Min Yoongi with the blade he made just for you.

Your mind is stuck on this, circling it, unable to let go, as you approach the smithy.

The lights are out - there’ll be no late-night projects, not during the official mourning for the King. You hope Park Jihoon, whose quarters are above the smithy, just across the yard from Yoongi’s tiny cabin, sleeps deeply.

You know Yoongi keeps a key in the eaves above his front window; you’ve seen him retrieve it no less than a half-dozen times - usually he’s reaching for it, his shirt rising and showing a slip of belly that you can’t help but run your hands across as he laughs and tells you to be patient.

You reach it on your own, tonight. You let yourself in as silently as possible, closing the door behind you, placing the key gently on his tiny, wooden table. His bed is in the far corner of the room, and although the fire in the hearth has gone out, you can see the lump of blankets through the darkness that show you his form.

You approach quietly, as you would approach a potential score, letting yourself slip into the mindset of surviving the forest.

You hesitate when you stand over him. He sleeps on his back, the light from the streetlamps outside casting flickering yellow over his delicate features. His eyelids flutter. Next to his head, his fingers twitch.

If you strike true, this could be over in an instant.

His eyes slide open, and a hazy smile drifts over his face. “Am I having a very good dream?” he murmurs. His eyes trail down your form and freeze on the knife in your hand. The smile fades, and his eyes meet yours again, a question in them. “Or perhaps a very bad one?”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. Then, you move at the same time - you lunging and plunging the blade into the spot where his heart lay, and him rolling sideways and hitting the floor with a thud.

You yank your blade free from where it pierced Yoongi’s empty mattress and wheel to follow him as he scrambles upright and towards the door.

You should’ve locked it. You shouldn’t have apologized, your voice and your regret giving him the split second to bolt.

You follow him at a sprint, panting hard, as the fool runs barefoot through the smithy’s yard, heading for the forest.

Your forest.

It’s overcast tonight, threatening rain. No moon or stars to guide you, you follow Yoongi as he zigs and zags blindly through the trees. You have the advantage. You know where you are, even in the dark.

It’s primal, as you forge deeper and deeper through the underbrush, just sinew and silence as you run. Wind whistles around you as you focus on breathing, focus on following the crunch of Yoongi’s wild path. The earth seems to rise up to meet each footfall with a jolting slap. The darkness seems to spur you on like it knows you need this, pressing you onward, telling you, hurry, hurry.

If you can herd him towards the east, you can cut him off at the ravine - he won’t be able to do it barefoot, not without stumbling, not without cutting those bare feet on the sharp rocks. You pick up the pace, emboldened by the plan, knees and elbows pumping as you close in.

Without warning, Yoongi stops short and wheels around on you, feet skidding a little on the loose needles that coat the forest floor. It’s so unexpected that the inertia carries you to him before you can tell your legs to quit. Before you can slow, before you can turn, he grabs you by the arms and slams you backwards into the thick trunk of an oak tree, hard enough to knock the wind out of you with an audible gasp.

You’re surprised enough that the knife drops from your fingers, and he wastes no time gripping you even tighter and throwing you to the ground, instantly dropping his body over yours and holding you down as best he can as you struggle. The blade lies just out of reach, taunting you, and you reach up and stretch as hard as you can to wiggle your fingers closer, but Yoongi roughly jerks your arm away.

You’re gasping for breath as you struggle beneath his weight, trying to keep your vision clear. This wasn’t part of the plan. You weren’t supposed to have to chase him, have to fight him. You aren’t used to this - the deer don’t fight back.

“Why?” he pants heavily, his whole body heaving with each inhale and exhale. Sweat runs down his neck from the curled, damp edges of his hair. His eyes are wild, confused above you.

“Do you know who your father is?” you respond in answer, and the question surprises him so much that he leans back, like he’s trying to get a better look at you.

It’s all you need. You use your feet and your core strength to stretch just past where you couldn’t reach with his full weight on you, and your fingers close around the blade’s handle. In a flash, you have the sharp side pressing to the pulse point on Yoongi’s neck, hard enough that you know he can feel the sting, your other hand curling in his shirt and holding him still. His eyes widen and he freezes, straining to hold himself up and away from you.

“If you move I’ll do it, and it won’t be quick,” you hiss, teeth gritted so hard you’re sure they’ll crack. Your heart slams in your chest, adrenaline sending tingles clear down to your toes. You’re dizzy with fear. You aren’t sure what’s scarier - actually doing what you’re meant to, or having to report that you didn’t.

You’re both stuck there - a tableau, an oil painting, frozen for eternity, never moving on from this moment. A million possibilities stretch on as Yoongi’s pulse beats visibly against the knife he’d sharpened for you just days ago.

You feel like you’re floating outside your body; you can’t feel any of it - not the knife’s handle against your palm, not Yoongi’s hips still pinning yours, not the sticks and stones beneath your spine, not the sticky humidity of a night on the precipice of storm. Not your own thrumming, frightened heartbeat.

You know you can’t do it - not this way. Not like this, not with his eyes on yours, steady, as if he’s not staring down his death. Not like this, looking into his face and remembering the first time you were under him this way, remembering every time after that. Your hand trembles as you will yourself not to pull the blade away.

But he knows. Yoongi’s always called your every bluff, has always been perfectly capable of shooting you a knowing half-smile and pushing right past your blustering, always able to find the person on the other side of the facade - the person who’s scared,confused, alone.

“No you won’t,” he murmurs, low, and there’s nothing accusing or mocking in it. He’s simply telling you what he knows.

Slowly, carefully, he lowers his face closer to yours, so deliberately that the knife slides harmlessly along his skin until he’s clear of it. He presses his lips to yours, uncertain at first, then with more insistence when you don’t push him away.

The fear and adrenaline crash through you in time with a not-so-distant crack of thunder, blinding you, rendering you thoughtless and animalistic. You drop the knife with a thud, barely aware that you’re doing it, your hand coming instead to tangle in his loose hair, clutching it tightly at the base of his neck and pressing his head closer to yours, kissing him deeper, needing to absolutely drown in his kiss.

He grunts at your enthusiasm, nipping at your bottom lip before diving into you again, licking deep into your mouth and pressing his hips down into yours in rhythm with the kiss. You move with him desperately, the quiet of the woods scattered by your combined gasping breaths, tiny sounds of pleasure slipping through the cracks in your armor, the wet sounds of your mouths coming apart and meeting again hungrily. Despite the earth solid beneath you, you feel like you’re spinning. You clutch him tightly, one hand in his hair and the other arm coming around his shoulders, tethering him to you.

He’s the only thing keeping you here, in the present, not skittering off to somewhere safe inside your head.

You let him hold you there, pressed between him and the unyielding ground below you, channel all the rushing adrenaline into how you meet his fiery kisses, pressing your mouth hard back against his like it’s a battle, into how you roll your hips against his, thrilling at feeling him hard and ready for you. But for all the intensity, for the dizziness sweeping over you, neither of you rushes - you kiss for so long that your lips tingle, your core throbs, the night grows blacker, the thunder tiptoes closer.

You swipe your tongue over his familiar lips, whining in your throat when he opens for you again, welcomes you in, rocks against you and closes his eyes against the sting as you unconsciously tighten your fingers in his hair.

Then he breaks the kiss, pulls himself free of your grasp, nudges his nose to the underside of your jaw until you lean your head back, breathing hard, giving him room to attach teeth and lips to the skin of your neck.

He gathers a bit of skin and worries it between his teeth, muttering, “You won’t kill me. No one else can make you come undone like I do.”

The sound that tears out of you is half laugh and half desperate groan. “Prove it, then,” you goad, fingers finding the hem of his shirt and pulling the edge towards you. He releases the spot on your neck long enough to let you pull the material over his head. Then he sits back on his knees between your legs and looks you over, one hand absently sliding down the front of his trousers, pressing relief into his waiting cock.

“Yours,” he says, tone steely. You find your own hem with shaking fingers. Distantly, there’s a flash of lightning, illuminating the canopy of tree branches above you before plunging you into darkness again. You pull your top over your head and drop it next to his, leaning back on your elbows.

All thoughts of what you’re supposed to do here have left you; there’s only hands-shaking adrenaline and instinct driving you to give in to your desires and pursue what you want - Yoongi, Yoongi, more of Yoongi.

“Trousers, too,” Yoongi tells you, voice quiet. His fingers are on the string of his own trousers, but his eyes are on your exposed chest. Hungry.

You do as he says, untying your bottoms and pushing them away with your feet and waiting for his next move. The night isn’t cold, but you shiver. The forest, your forest, feels like a sanctuary, like it’s wrapping around the two of you and keeping you safe from everything outside. Like if you stayed in here, together, you might be safe from her after all.

But you know that’s a lie.

You push the thought away by coming up on your knees and approaching Yoongi, who’s still kneeling, too. You press your chest to him with a shudder as you reach to kiss him again. He gives a quiet, happy noise low in his throat and you answer with a hum as you lick into him again.

You slip a hand between your bodies and find him heavy and leaking. He presses into your touch with a nearly-silent keen that you manage to catch, and you trace your fingertips up his length, playing in the wetness you find waiting for you at the tip, then pulling that wetness down to the base again. You repeat the motion, touch featherlight, and listen to Yoongi’s breathing hitch and catch and sigh as he closes his eyes and enjoys it. He’s silky against your fingertips, skin like satin even here.

Yoongi trails kisses down your jaw, making a clear path towards your neck, and he skims a hand up your side and past your ribs, cupping one breast and rubbing his thumb roughly over your hardening nipple. You gasp, fingers twitching against his length, which spurs him on. He runs his knuckles lightly over the bud, then takes it gently between his thumb and forefinger, giving it an experimental roll. Your gasped ah turns into a liquid moan and he does it again, harder. You keen, a note of complaint in it, as he repeats the movement that is somehow both too much and not enough.

You wrap your hand fully around him, done teasing him with barely-there strokes, and roll your wrist once, twice, three times, his low grumbling reply music to your ears. He’s still mouthing at your neck and he switches hands, igniting sparks as he gently pinches the other nipple instead. Then he reaches and bumps your wrist out of his way as he cups your sex and spears you on his middle finger.

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you whine, rocking into his hand, trying to take the digit just a little deeper.

He must hear the desperation in your tone or sense it in the way you clench around his single finger, because he takes mercy on you and presses a second finger in beside the first. You sigh, still rocking against his hand, as he fucks into the spot in your front wall that makes your eyes drift closed and your toes curl up. You abandon his cock, bringing your hands to his shoulders, hanging on to keep yourself upright. When he presses his thumb against your clit you groan, loud and long, no one to hear you, and let your head fall back.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, plunging his fingers in and out of your wet heat. You can hear it each time he pushes them back in, the sound ringing in the silent woods, the only competition the approaching rolls of gentle thunder.

He works you up until you’re panting, your forehead dropping to rest against his collarbone, your hips in constant motion as you seek more. Your arms are looped around his neck, though you don’t remember starting to hold him, and your fingers find the ends of his long hair, tugging lightly in time with his motions. Occasionally his thumb circles your clit, causing your hips to jerk, but the angle stops him from keeping it constant. He pulls his hand away, and you take a bracing breath, coming back to your senses as the sensations fade.

He drops back from his knees, one arm behind his head as he lays back. He locks his eyes on yours as he strokes himself, his teeth toying with his bottom lip.

“Come on, then,” he prompts, his hand languid and lazy on his cock. Your body buzzes as you climb over him and sink down, letting him fill you, stretch you, break you into pieces. You ride him hard, one hand splayed on his flushed chest for balance, as around you the wind picks up, the leaves on the trees fluttering.

Yoongi’s eyes screw closed and his head tips back, even as his hands continue to guide your hips through each rise and fall.

You slow, savoring the drag against your walls, savoring his pretty skin beneath your fingers, savoring the grunts and hitched breaths he’s trying to hold back.

You could have loved Yoongi. In another life, where you had chips to bargain with. In a life where you fit into place within the village, where wild wasn’t as necessary to you as air. Even if the Queen had never called for Yoongi’s head - this life never meant for you to love him.

This is what you think about as you lightly rake your nails down his chest, watching him squirm beneath you. You think about all the times he’d been on the edge of saying it.

You think about all the times the feeling had risen up in you, as warm as a patch of sunlit floor, and you’d had to blow it away like an errant dandelion seed.

Maybe you do love him. You just can’t forget - not for a second - how little it matters.

The knife sits where you’d dropped it before undressing, just past Yoongi’s head.

You could probably reach it now.

Yoongi seems to sense the change in your motions and cracks an eye open, his fingers on your hips loosening.

His gaze follows yours. A flash of lightning makes the metal shine for a split second, and then you’re surrounded by the sudden patter of falling rain.

“Guess we better hurry,” Yoongi mutters, reaching up to grip the back of your neck and pulling you down so your chest is flush with his.

All thoughts leave your mind as he hammers into you from below - the knife is forgotten. Your feelings are forgotten. The rain, starting to muddy up the ground around you, forgotten.

You cum around him in silence, jaw clenched, fingers digging into his biceps. The groan he lets out as you squeeze around him in waves is drowned out by a growl of thunder that feels like it’s right above you, all around you.

Yoongi pumps into you with abandon, suddenly losing the rhythm he’d created. He gives two more shuddery thrusts and then lets his arms flop to the ground with a contented sigh.

For a second, you both lay there, sweat-slick and panting. Another lightning splits the sky, and the rain comes harder. He slides out of you and you wiggle until you’re laying just next to him instead of on top of him.

You can’t stop looking at him. He seems determined not to look at you.

The rain washes everything away - the smell of sex, your sweat, your affection, your sadness, your pride.

“My father,” he murmurs beneath you, and you go deathly still. “Yes, I knew.”

You swallow, brush rainwater from your brow. “So does the Queen,” you say back. An explanation, and an answer to the why he’d leveled at you an hour ago.

He nods slowly, expression clearing with understanding.

You feel no absolution for it.

Finally, he leans his head back again, his bangs flopping heavily now that they’re saturated with rainwater, and eyes the knife.

You sit up. He brings his eyes to you and watches silently - as if he accepts whatever move you make. As if, should you reach for the metal, he wouldn’t fight you this time.

“Go.” The word tumbles roughly onto the inch of mud between you. You don’t remember making the decision to say it.

He sits up, elbows and shoulders caked with mud. But all he does is watch you, wait for you to change your mind.

“Go,” you repeat, meaning it. Now that you’ve said it once, now that the decision was made, you know it’s the right one. “I’ll tell her it’s done.”

You could never kill him. You both knew it all along.

He dresses wordlessly, and you do the same, pulling your top back over your head and tying up your trouser string. When you look up, he’s standing in the rain, watching you.

You stoop and grab the knife he’d made you. You grip it tightly in your hand, refuse to meet his eyes.

He’s not challenging you, not questioning you - and that, in itself, feels like a slap.

“You can’t come back,” you say, as evenly as you can muster. When he just looks at you, infuriatingly silent, you add, “You can’t. Okay? If she - she can never know.”

“I know,” he says, and then he gives you a long, searching look. He’s drenched now, and your hands itch to push his set hair away from his face, to use your thumbs to chase raindrops - you think - away from his lashline.

Then, choked, he offers, “You could -”

“Don’t,” you bite out, stopping him before he can make you any kind of offer. You can’t. You can’t go with him. You can’t disappear into the night. Your brother is counting on you. You won’t let him pay for your sins.

Yoongi shakes his head. He takes another step closer. Your fingers tighten on the knife’s handle.

“Y/N, I -”

You raise the knife above your head in a flash, eyes going wide in fury.

“Fucking go!” you bark.

He holds up his hands, takes a few steps backwards, giving up his quest to make this harder than it needs to be. Lightning illuminates him and above your head, the blade shines for a split second before everything is cast into inky darkness again.

When your eyes adjust to the darkness, trees around you forming a shape again, he’s gone.

You don’t follow him, and you don’t return to your cabin. You sink to your knees in the mud, dropping the knife onto the ground, and sob into your hands, the noise swallowed by the flurry of rain and the intermittent cracks of thunder.

—

You sleep. You hunt. When the time comes, you bring your scores to the Queen atop your wagon.

She doesn’t ask you about Yoongi. You don’t offer her anything, just thank her for her grace routinely when she orders your purse to be filled.

You don’t stop at the tavern on the way back home. You don’t stop at any of the shops - not this time. You don’t trust yourself to act right if Yoongi’s disappearance gets brought up. You don’t trust that no one will do the math that he vanished four nights ago, and now you’re a hollowed shell who can’t form words.

The townspeople have seen you grieve before. They’d know what they were seeing.

The next trip is easier, and the one after that even more. The Queen never thanks you, not that you expected it, but you start finding an extra purse of coins in your wagon each time you return to it after bringing in your kills.

The price for your silence. The price for what she thinks you’ve done.

It hurts the most when your wagon passes the smithy, but you keep your eyes on the cobblestones and your hands on the reins and eventually the hurt fades along with the village as you get farther and farther away.

The seasons turn. The hurts fade. You send extra money to your brother. You sleep. You hunt.

Eventually, you stop waking up from nightmares that feature the glint of metal. You stop waking up trying desperately to cling to your dreams as fruitlessly as clinging to smoke, left with only damp places on your pillow and the memory of a low, throaty chuckle ringing in your ears.

Eventually, you can ride past the smithy without the pang in your chest. You can stop for a pint without watching the shadows for the appearance of a gummy smile. You can laugh when the bartender cracks a joke, can sound like yourself when you ask the baker’s daughter how she’s been faring.

It is after one of these trips, deep into color-saturated autumn, that you return to your cabin with wagon empty and purses full.

Something isn’t right. You freeze, casting your eyes around the forest, but it holds its secrets tight.

On the ground in front of your door, illuminated by the late afternoon sunlight, is a brand new, shining blade.

thank you so much for reading!!! i really really like this one and i hope you do too!! <3

#bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #min yoongi fic #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi smut #min yoongi angst #fairy tale au #fic: the price

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junkdrawerfics · 1 year ago

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First Meeting

Jasper Hale X Reader

Series of Firsts

Summary: The first time you meet Jasper Hale is when you get lost in the woods. Is he your rescuer or the danger you should be looking out for, though?

Words: 1712

Note: New series wooh! Hope you guys enjoy!

---

Moving to Forks in the middle of summer had its pros and cons.

Pro: You have plenty of time to explore and get to know the area.

Pro: You can adjust to the new home before school starts.

Con: You haven’t been able to meet many people your age and therefore have no friends yet.

Con: You thought it would be nice to take a walk by the woods, but you swear you saw a hurt cat and you tried to help it but it ran away and you followed it and now you’re lost.

The last point may not have anything to do with it being summer, but still.

On the bright side, you did catch the little guy! Not without a few scratches, but you got him.

You perch yourself on a tree stump, a small tabby kitten nestled in your arms, completely tuckered out from running. Careful to not jostle him, you give him a good once over. It looks like he was maybe clipped by a car, or maybe a bike, dried blood running down one of his legs which looks significantly out of place.

Poor thing.

Sighing softly, you tuck him back into your lap and glance around. The trees all look the same, and you have no clue what direction you came from. There’s no way to tell what time it is either, since you left your phone at home and the sun is completely blocked out by the clouds. Not the best situation.

At least it’s still light out, you think to yourself. It could be a lot worse. For now, it’s light, you’re warm, and you told your mom you were going out before you did, so she should notice when you don’t come back in a few hours.

If you don’t make it back yourself, that is!

“I don’t suppose you know the way out?” You hum, scratching the small kitten’s head as he raises his head at the sound of your voice. He looks at you with dark amber eyes, barely open.

“Mew.”

“Hm, I thought so.” You shake your head with a fond smile. “That’s okay. Maybe if I just start walking, I’ll find someone.”

The kitten grumbles a little when you pop to your feet. Might as well go with your gut, right? That’s what people usually do in situations like this. So, you go to set off in the directions you think you came from. Hopefully.

Until you hear a loud snap come from behind you.

Every muscle in your body goes still. The ball of fur in your arms bristles, suddenly far more alert, letting out a quiet, squeaking hiss. It makes your chest tighten, a spark of fear and realization traveling through your bones.

Are there predators in these woods?

“You’ll hit the coast before you find a soul if you go that way.”

The sound of a low, rumbling voice immediately puts you at ease, the tension dripping from your shoulders. Thank the heavens you don’t have to wander even deeper into the woods. There’s no telling how much more lost you could get. You turn to thank your savior, eyes going wide when they land on him.

Pretty. That’s your first thought.

He’s very pretty. For a moment, you could even convince yourself you are just looking at a sculpture abandoned in the woods. He’s tall, very tall, gold hair falling to his sharp jaw, skin shockingly pale in the dim light. His eyes, dark and narrowed, glint with curiosity and maybe a hint of concern as he looks you over.

Heat flares across your cheeks. This feels straight out of some teen romance novel. A handsome stranger comes to the rescue of the damsel in distress. Except, while he is a handsome stranger, you are dressed in an oversized, pastel hoodie with cat scratches all over your face and hands. Not to mention the mangy kitten in your arms who looks like he wants to kill the man.

What a sight this must be for him.

You offer your rescuer a wide, somewhat awkward smile, “Thanks for telling me. I definitely have no clue where I am, if you can’t tell.”

The man tilts his head, brows furrowing, “How’d you end up all the way out here?”

“Well-” You shrug, shifting back and forth on your feet. “-it was just supposed to be a walk, but then I saw this little guy and he looked like he needed help.”

His eyes dart down to the small kitten in your arms, lips twitching in amusement. The fluff ball glares back at him without hesitation. You shuffle him in your arms a little, trying to get him to calm down, but he stubbornly clings to your sleeve so he can see the blond.

“I chased him out here,” you continue, settling for just clutching him against your chest, just in case he tries to be rude. “His leg looks pretty bad and I just couldn’t leave him, you know? I’m pretty sure he needs a vet, but I don’t know how to get back to town. Could you maybe um…”

You trail off. You shouldn’t hesitate to ask for help, you know it’s silly, but you don’t want to bother this guy. What if he was on his way somewhere? Maybe he could just point you in the right direction. But what if it gets dark before you get home? The thought of walking through the woods at night is not one you’d like to live through.

After a hard second of him looking at you, as if trying to figure out whether you’re a threat or not - which feels kind of backwards if you’re being honest - the man seems to soften. His posture loosens and a small, charming smile slants his lips.

Your heart stutters.

In a very old-school, gentlemanly way, he offers you his hand, “It’d be a privilege to escort you back, miss-?”

You stare at his extended hand, completely oblivious to his question until you glance up and see him watching you expectantly, lips pursed, dark eyes dancing with amusement.

Oh!

“(Y/n),” you blurt quickly, face going impossibly redder. “My name’s (Y/n) (L/n)! I just moved here.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, (Y/n).” The smile comes back, wider, brighter, and you want to melt. “Name’s Jasper Hale, I’ve lived here quite some time.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, too, Jasper Hale,” you chime, finally taking his hand (much to the kitten’s displeasure). “Especially now. I would've been wandering out here for a long time if you hadn’t showed up. Who knows what’s out here.”

Something flashes through Jasper’s eyes, but he merely smiles and agrees, “You can never be too careful.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time,” you sigh, following him as he starts in the opposite direction you were going to go, “It’s my fault for thinking I didn’t need my phone. It’s just my luck to not have it the one time I need it.”

“Bad luck finds you at the worst times,” he hums wistfully.

“This is your fault,” you whisper down at the kitten, who has settled down a little bit, “You’re not even black, how are you so unlucky?”

He blinks up at you, looking unimpressed. You laugh, scratching his chest softly.

“I think he’s mocking me,” you murmur, “He probably doesn’t even need my help based on the fight he put up.”

“He just doesn’t know what’s good for him,” Jasper chuckles, something fond starting to grow in his chest.

He had been hunting when the scent of fresh blood had drawn him further into the woods. He didn’t even remember moving, hunting it down, nothing until he came to a dead stop there at the edge of the small clearing. That’s where he found you, watched as you slowly, patiently coaxed the angry kitten into your arms.

He doesn’t know what made him stop. What overcame the burning thirst in his throat. But when he laid eyes on you, listened to you talk to the kitten as if it would talk back, felt the gentle positivity coming off of you like pure warmth, it just disappeared.

Replaced with a burning curiosity and something fiercely protective.

Who was this girl he’d never seen before? Why was she all the way out in the woods, at least thirty minutes from the town? Alone? What if something happened to her?

The moment you started walking in the wrong direction, he couldn’t stop himself. Against his better judgment, of course. He couldn’t just let you wander off alone, though. The others will probably be angry with him once he gets back, but at least he can make sure you get home safely.

Which he does.

You stop at the edge of your yard, turning to him with the softest, most genuine smile, brimming with gratitude.

“Thank you, Jasper. Really. I hope this isn’t the last time we meet?” Your eyes glow with so much hope, and he can’t bring himself to deny it.

He should. He should stay far away from you, because something tells him that as much as this new feeling in his chest could be something good, it could also be something horribly dangerous. For you. He should stop it here and now, cut all ties.

But he saw how well that worked for Edward.

So he nods, dares to lift your hand to his lips and press a ghost of a kiss to your knuckles. Jasper can feel your life under his fingers, hear your pulse race, and he expects the thirst to come roaring back, to feel some kind of temptation, but the only thing he feels is your overflowing, bashful joy. And he loves it.

“Until next time, miss (L/n),” he murmurs, and you giggle, “Try not to run after any more injured animals, alright?”

“I’ll try,” you promise, feeling high as a kite.

“Good.” Jasper grins.

He watches you go inside, just to be safe, making eye contact one last time with the furry, little creature still in your arms, right before the door falls shut. It glares at him, tiny tail thrashing.

Unlucky, you said.

Maybe.

You’ll both have to wait and see.

---

I'm pretty excited about this new little series! It'll be super simple, just a series about different "firsts" you have with Jasper, ie first kiss, first date, etc. If you want anything specific, let me know!

Also, I know it might be a little unrealistic, but I don't care! That's not what this is about lol

#reader insert #x reader #reader #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #twilight saga #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #twilight #jasper x reader #series of firsts #cute meet #kinda

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tigergirltail · 2 months ago

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TIGER HRT CHAPTER 6 - MONTH 6 - THE CAGED BIRD

CONTENT WARNING - This chapter contains mentions of medical injections, bigotry, child abuse, self-harm, and attempted suicide. Reader beware.

FIRST - PREV - NEXT

I had my six-month check-up with Dr. Erian, an online appointment just like last time. No particular medical issues this time around, bloodwork checks out, genetic reconfiguration is stable. We can't do a thorough physical exam over the internet, but according to him, I am "the very picture of health, by the standards of your species". I'm a bit curious what standards those are, given that I have yet to hear about any other tiger therians. Hopefully there ARE standards, and he's not just giving me empty reassurance.

We also spent some time going over dietary concerns - am I getting enough meat, am I reducing my fruit and grain intake appropriately, that sort of thing. I assured him that I'm eating real meat with every meal, just like the booklet said to, I've been limiting fruits and vegetables, and I don't even have an appetite for anything grain-based. I'll probably miss what fresh bread used to be like, but I just can't bring myself to want it anymore. Apparently not every therian is following the diet they're supposed to, but the doctor didn't have any concerns about me, "assuming your answers are honest, Miss Alexis". What, does he think I'm about to lie to the one person who knows how species transition works?

At one point during the discussion I thought I heard him mutter something about a "foolish undine", but I must have misheard. Undines are water spirits or elementals or something - a fictional creature. Then again, so are dragons and lamias, but the first well-known humanity remover was a dragon-girl, and I've been hanging out and playing online games with a lamia. At this point you could tell me there's someone out there transitioning to Sonic the Hedgehog, and I might actually believe you.

I've hit the point of full fur coverage, so no more awkward bald patches! Unfortunately, this does mean I need to start taking my estrogen in a form other than skin patches, because there's nowhere left to stick them. After a lot of agonizing over the pros and cons of potential liver damage from pills versus facing down my needle phobia, I opted to ask my endocrinologist to train me on injectable estrogen. She made a somewhat tone-deaf joke about not being trained in veterinary medicine, but she was otherwise very patient and reassuring, so I let it slide.

I do want to state for the record that I am a big scary tiger who's not afraid of anything and I only cried a little bit the first time I injected myself.

My ears are definitely becoming much more sensitive - I keep hearing really annoying high-pitch noises when I'm around heavy machinery, and that happens a lot more often than you might think. My office at work is right next to an elevator, and whenever someone uses it, the motor lets out this gods-awful whine and I have to plug my ears until it stops moving again. My local grocery also has a few freezer units that give off a similar sound, constantly, and I've had to start wearing earplugs to go on food runs.

As for visual changes, I can see in the dark reasonably well, but I've also started getting headaches and discomfort when I squint or try too hard to focus on something. I guess I should probably just… try to not do that. I have spent a significant portion of my life staring at a screen, so my eyes probably aren't in the best shape overall.

Now that my physical changes are pretty much done, most people just assume I'm wearing a very intricate costume - at least, until they get close. No costume has mouth movements or facial expressions this realistic, and believe me, our top furry scientists and engineers have tried.

At one point there's a conversation on the humanity removal chat server about the political climates in our respective areas towards therians. Obviously, a lot of the right-wing talking-head shows have been shitting themselves inside-out about the idea of people giving up their humanity, especially the ones with a more religious bent. "How dare these freaks forsake God's holy image", "Humanity is a divine blessing and must be cherished", "We call on the one true God to smite these worshippers of the Beast", and so on like that. Excuse you, but I've never worshipped your discriminatory god and I'm not beholden to their 'holy image'. My goddess is one of beauty, love, and artistic expression, and the entire reason I'm changing myself in the first place is as an expression of self-love.

Most of us agree, though, that the absolute worst of the 24-hour news cycle doesn't have anything to do with how regular everyday people see us. In fact, we're rare enough still that a decent proportion of people don't believe we exist - they think that tabloids made us up to sell more copies. I don't know if that's better in terms of acceptance, but I'll take it over a torch-and-pitchfork mob running me out of town.

The conversation shifts to us sharing our locations, those of us who are comfortable doing so at least. We generally keep it vague, but most of us are at least alright with saying which country we live in. I narrow it down to a province for myself, mainly because my province alone is larger than some countries, but also because once we start to get noticed by the media and the world, there'll probably be no stopping our locations becoming known.

It's also going to get interesting if anyone starts asking how most of us are going to the same medical provider when he requires that consultations be done in person, or why the location he operates out of - Hyper City - doesn't appear on any map. Truthfully, I'm still trying to wrap my head around it myself.

The next day, I get a private message from the girl with the corvid avatar:

"Hey I saw your post when everybody was talking about where they are! I live there too!! We should totally meet up sometime ^v^"

…This is a dilemma. Obviously, I'm worried about the optics of a teenager meeting up with a 39-year-old she met on the internet, there's all kinds of ways that could be taken the wrong way, but dammit, I still don't know anyone like me in this part of the world, who knows if I'll ever find anyone else who's local? …I really want to try, but I should at least give her a warning, and a judgement-free out.

"Uhh I get wanting to meet up, but I'm more than 20 years older than you, would your parents be anywhere near cool with that??"

There's a long pause. I see her start and stop typing multiple times. I'm worried I've upset her. Eventually, she sends another message:

"I don't give a fuck what they think"

I'm taken aback by the harshness of the reply, and don't manage to type anything before another series of messages pops up:

"and they don't care what I do anyway so it's whatever" "if anyone asks I'll just say you're my weird aunt" "you have no idea how bad I want to meet someone who GETS IT" "humanity is a curse and I want to be free"

'I want to be free'. Something about that phrase hits somewhere deep, in a source of pain that never fully healed. Freedom from pain, freedom from self-hatred, freedom at any cost, even if it meant my life. I remember how that desire for freedom feels.

The only thing I can think to do next is ask if she's okay. Her response is to ask if I can go on a voice call. I'm not sure if she wants some confirmation that I'm a real person or if she just doesn't want the next part of the conversation preserved in the text log.

"Hey…", I begin cautiously as the voice call starts. "Can you hear me okay?"

There's a suppressed sniffle on the other end. "Yeah… I hear you."

For a moment I entertain the thought of going all 'when I was your age' and explaining that I was always cautioned against talking to strangers on the internet, but it's probably not the time for that. Read the room, Alexis.

She's not saying anything. I'm going to have to start this off, I think. Something harmless, something value-neutral…

"So from your icon, I'm guessing you want crow HRT? Raven HRT, maybe?"

"Crow HRT.", she states simply. "Crows are everywhere here, and I've always loved them, always been jealous of them. They get to go anywhere they want, do anything they want…" She lets out a groaning sigh. "Augh, this is stupid. You probably think I'm stupid for wanting this."

I can't hold back from giving a little bit of a laugh. "Hah! Young lady, one year ago I went to a doctor and told him to his face that I wanted him to turn me into a recessive-gene variant of an endangered species that doesn't even live on this continent, and then I threatened to bite him if he wouldn't do it. Fantasizing about being a crow is just about the normalest thing I can imagine compared to that."

"…You said you'd BITE him?"

I grin, though without a camera set up she can't see it. "Every one of us who seeks out humanity removal therapy is already a little bit inhuman, even if we don't fully know it yet. After all, why would we remove something if we felt emotionally attached to it?"

Another audible sniffle. "Holy fuck, you DO get it…"

"I sure hope I get it, it's not like I can un-grow the fur and the tail."

She gives a laugh, then there's a long pause. "…Does it hurt? Is it scary?"

"Sometimes. My fingers were REALLY sore while my claws were developing, and having your entire facial structure rearrange is no joke. As for scary, well, I sure get stared at a lot more, but I think I scare people a lot more than they scare me."

"Heh, maybe I want to be scary."

I frown a little. "I don't. I just want to be true to myself."

There's an awkward silence. After a while, I decide to bring up something I was curious about:

"So I remember you asking if there was a way to get species HRT without your parents noticing. I'm guessing they're not exactly supportive?"

She lets out an uncomfortable groan. "Mmmngh… They watch a lot of those news shows, you know, the ones that only run angry sensationalist bullcrap? Dad gets furious at the idea of anyone changing themselves, something about the 'holy sanctity of the human body' or whatever. He even thinks tattoos are blasphemy. Mom says it's the most horrific thing she can imagine, she nearly fainted when she caught me watching a stream of this one dragon girl talking about her changes."

"And here you are, wanting to be a bird… I'm sorry, that sounds really rough."

"It… It is." I can hear her voice faltering. "Hearing nothing but how terrible a waste it is, and how awful and horrific they are, and the whole time knowing that I'd give ANYTHING for it to happen to me, I just… I'm sorry, I just…"

"Hey, you don't need to apologize… I'm not going anywhere."

"I just… don't know how much longer I can take it!"

"…Take what?" I'm afraid to ask my next question, but… I just have to. "…What are they doing to you??"

Somewhere deep inside her, the dam just… breaks. She starts sobbing as she tells me about how her parents yell at her over every single mistake, how she gets shoved or hit just for being in the way, how she hurts herself just so the pain gives her something to feel and to focus on, and how she… How she once climbed up to the roof of her building and took a flying leap off. She had every intention to end her own life, but in the moment her feet left the ground and she felt the air under her arms, she experienced a rush of euphoria, for the first time she can remember.

…And a moment later, she broke a leg and several ribs when she hit the ground.

She explains that she spent over a month in hospital, a captive audience for her parents to yell at more, when they even bothered to show up at all. I'm too stunned to even react.

She's spent the years since then chasing that high, climbing trees and jumping off, finding rooftops and hilltops to go stand in the wind, looking up online videos of parachuting and wingsuiting and hang gliding, and when she first heard rumours about medical treatments that can alter one's very species, she started frantically researching. That's how she started finding other therians to reach out to, how she got involved in the group chat.

"Have you… had an appointment with Dr. Erian yet?" I have a feeling I already know the answer - something something, 'letter from a physician, two psychologists, live as your preferred species for at least a year'. The same horseshit I had to listen to.

"No… I tried to get one, but he won't see anyone under 18 without parental consent, and fat chance of ever getting that."

Huh. I hadn't expected that, it feels surprisingly principled for him. Though at the end of the day, it's probably just another liability thing - ol' Teddy Erian covering his own ass as usual.

"I just…" She's started crying again. "I just want to turn into a beautiful black bird and fly away from all this, forever… I just want to live my life on the wind, going wherever I want, never having to see a single human again…"

I can feel my own tears welling up, and that's the moment I make my decision. I'm going to meet up with this girl, and I'm going to find a way to help her. Maybe she doesn't need humanity removal, maybe she just needs to know someone who understands.

We decide on a place and time to meet up. There's a little cafe I like nearby, run by a trio of neurodivergent queer women. It's a public place, and about as safe for weirdos like us as you can get. Corvid-girl tells me she'll be the one with a feathered headband and a crow-skull necklace. I tell her I'll be the one with white fur and a tail. That manages to get a laugh out of her. I choose to take that as a victory.

There's something about the way she laughs that sounds a bit like a crow's call. I wonder whether that's intentional on her part…

A few days later, I'm sitting in the cafe enjoying a hot chocolate and a roast beef sandwich - extra meat, naturally. Dr. Erian said I have to start cutting chocolate out of my diet because cocoa is going to become toxic to me, but… chocolate! I did ask for a lighter mix though, so what I'm drinking is actually mostly just hot milk. Maybe there's a cocoa-free substitute out there I can look into…

I'm snapped out of my thoughts by a squeal of delight emanating from the front door. There's a teenage girl standing there, staring directly at me with a look of amazement on her face. Dark clothes, pale skin, black hair, headband with feathers in it, and hanging from her neck, an amulet in the shape of a bird skull. I smile and wave a paw at her. She practically bounces as she walks up to my table and takes a seat.

"Holy SHIT, you're… And you even have the… Your face looks just like… Can I touch your paw??"

I laugh and hold out my paw. "Haha, sure, just watch out for the claws, they don't stay all the way inside just yet."

"Oh, it's okay, I'm used to sharp things!"

I wince as I think back to our voice chat from the other day. I REALLY hope she doesn't mean what I think she means, but I can't help noticing she's wearing long sleeves, even though the weather has been getting warmer.

She turns my paw over and squeals. "OHMYGOD you even have the BEEEEANS!" I can't resist smiling as she starts poking and prodding at my pawpads. "You look SO!! AMAZING!!"

Corvid-girl starts frantically complimenting all my animalistic features - "Your stripes are so pretty!" "I love your tail!" "Ohh, your fangs, they're so COOL!!" - and I start uncontrollably blushing. I never would have thought species affirmation would feel this euphoric… Naturally, being a teenager, she takes this as an excuse to push even harder, and I start covering my face with my paws, thoroughly embarrassed.

"You look just like the tigers they have on stage for those shows in Vegas!"

"H-hey, that's actually not okay…"

"You know, I bet you'd look good up on a stage too! Everyone would love to see you!!"

Instinctually, I let out a growl, louder than I actually want to. It has the intended effect, in that she stops dead and stares at me, but so do a few other cafe patrons. Oh gods, here comes the embarrassment again… "H-hey, look, it's just…"

"Sorry." She's gone completely deadpan, and stiff as a board.

I close my eyes tightly. Gods, why did I DO that?? First the waitress at that seafood place, and now an actual CHILD. I REALLY need to start getting a handle on these predator instincts. When I open my eyes again, she's still standing there, and she looks like she's on the verge of a panic attack.

I need to calm her down, need to bring her back. "No… I'M sorry. I shouldn't have done that, I just… The animals they use for those stage shows get abused all the time, and it's kind of a sore spot for me."

"…Really?"

Okay, she's talking, she's distracted, maybe I can still salvage this. "Yeah… Every species has baggage, it's one of the shitty parts of being therian, and tigers, white tigers especially, they're treated like show pieces, or worse."

"…Well shit, I knew they're endangered, but… fuck."

"Yeah, it's a whole thing, I try not to -"

Our conversation is interrupted by one of the staff tapping corvid-girl on the shoulder and asking to talk privately. She reluctantly agrees to go to the back of the store and talk. At first I think maybe she's being chastised for being a disturbance, but the barista who pulled her away is giving me some very pointed looks. Worried looks, I might even say.

If I angle my ears just right, I can almost hear them through the noise of the rest of the cafe.

"…other patrons were concerned… …young lady so close to a dangerous creature…"

I wonder if the barista notices the indignant look that crosses my face when they describe me as a 'creature'.

Corvid-girl lets out that bird-like laugh of hers. Her voice is a lot more distinct and easier to pick out:

"It's just my aunt! She's not a 'creature', she just takes meds to look like that!"

The barista doesn't protest as corvid-girl returns to our table, but they're still giving me a very 'You'd better not try anything' kind of look.

Corvid-girl sits down, seemingly a little more grounded, a little more sobered. "…I guess I never thought to ask, why a white tiger?"

I lean forward, head in one paw, and give a bit of a shrug. "I relate a lot to them."

"To… being treated like a show piece, or whatever you said?"

"…Yeah. When I was little, they called me 'gifted' and put me in a separate school. I remember being excited about it, but it turns out it just meant getting more homework."

"…Ew."

I smile a little bit. "That's what I thought too! They wanted me to be some brilliant prodigy, a genius in the making, but the reality is I was just more observant and better at math than most people, that's all. I actually had to take an extra year of school because I was so bad at it."

"EWW!!"

"I KNOW, RIGHT?? But, then I went to college and graduated at the top of my class, so the joke's on them in the end."

"I wasn't even planning on staying around long enough for college…" She still has a bit of a depressed air about her, but she's not going into a panic. Maybe I'm better with kids than I thought.

"Yeah, I remember, you were going to turn into a beautiful crow and fly away forever." I try to give her a reassuring look. "But hey, the human world isn't ALL bad."

"Says the woman who's turning herself into a wild animal."

I snort quietly as I hold back a laugh. "Okay, fair, but wild animals don't get the internet, or nice little cafes where weirdos like us can just sit and talk."

"Hah, yeah… Weirdos like us." She gives a smile. An actual, genuine smile. Suddenly all the awkwardness is worth it, to see someone so deeply unhappy smile. "That reminds me, I saw on the server you're into witchcraft, can you… teach me?"

Somehow I feel like I should have expected this. The goth-looking crow girl is into witchcraft, big surprise. "I… guess? Maybe? I'm not like an expert or anything, I've just read a few books and cast a few spells is all."

"Ooh, what kind of spells??" And now she's back to her enthusiastic self.

"Just some protective charms on people who needed them, a few card readings with a tarot deck, nothing much really…"

"Does it really work??"

"I mean, the people I cast those charms on ended up safe in the end, but who knows if what I did made a difference? Some of the card readings were scary-accurate though, I think I might have a talent for divination."

She laughs. "Gonna have to get you to read my future sometime."

We end up spending the next hour or so making small talk, getting to know each other, talking about the ins and outs of humanity removal, complaining about Dr. Erian, until…

"Hey, I gotta go catch the bus back home, but… this was nice." She gives a bit of a smirk. "Cool to meet another weirdo."

Before she leaves, I ask her name - I still don't know it, I've been internally calling her 'corvid-girl' this entire time.

She gives me a disgusted grimace. "Ugh, it's 'Margaret'. I'm named for my great-grandmother, it's SUCH an old-lady name."

"Margaret, like Maggie, as in magpie?" I smile a little. "Those are corvids too, you know."

Her expression softens a little. "…Never thought of that. Still don't like it, though…"

"Well, is there a name you'd like better? I can start calling you that if you like."

She freezes. Somewhere in her eyes I can see her mind working to process what I've just said. "…Nobody ever asked me that before. I'll… think about it." She turns to leave.

"Wait, hold on a sec."

"WHAT!?" She outright glares at me, then seems to soften. "Sorry, it's… never mind."

That… was an EXTREMELY sudden mood shift. Trauma response, maybe? "I… was just going to ask if you wanted a sandwich or something to take home."

"…Didn't bring any money…"

I shake my head a little. "That doesn't answer my question. Would you like me to BUY you a sandwich or something?"

"…Egg salad if they got it I guess…"

I go up to the counter and buy her an egg salad sandwich to go. She looks like she's going to cry when I hand it to her. I… probably shouldn't make a big deal about that, but somewhere deep inside, my heart breaks a little. Does she never have anyone just… offer her food?

I'm beginning to understand why she wants to leave behind the curse of humanity. I chose this path, I wanted to be a tiger, I'm running towards something. Corvid-girl, though? She's running away from something.

I walk her outside, and she starts to walk away, but suddenly stops, and turns back to me. She walks resolutely up to me, then grabs me in a hug.

"Soft…" Her voice is muffled against both my shirt and the fur underneath. "You're very soft…"

Once I get over my surprise at the sudden gesture, I hesitantly put one arm around her shoulders and pat her on the back. She pulls away after a few short moments, and walks away down the sidewalk without another word.

I touch my shirt where her head was leaning, and notice a small wet spot.

---

Time to play "Spot the References!" Intentional references below:

"something about a 'foolish undine'" - welldrawnfish (Fish HRT)

"the first well-known humanity remover was a dragon-girl" - ayviedoesthings (Dragon HRT)

"I've been hanging out and playing online games with a lamia" - ariathelamia (Lamia HRT)

"someone out there transitioning to Sonic the Hedgehog" - sonic-spirit (Sonic HRT)

"watching a stream of this one dragon girl talking about her changes" - Rain, by Jocelyn Samara D. (Dragon HRT)

#tiger hrt #therian hrt #animal hrt #species hrt #furry hrt #otherkin hrt #transgender #transwoman #trans #trans artist #lgbtq artist #my art

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dangopango00 · 6 months ago

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Demonic Features HCS (2)

Om demons HCs + Om demons x gn reader

Pt. 1 (123) | Pt. 2 (Satan, Asmo, Beel, Belphie) | Pt. 3 (Royal trio) Coming soon (again)

CW: Teeny but suggestive I think. Mostly asmo’s part if anything

A/N: THIS IMAGE IS SO FUCKING KEWYWTTTTT 😭😭😭😭😭 i cant w them ue i am unhealthily attached to this family goodbye world also sryy these are so long, honestly after recharging for a couple days I js started going crazy on the hcs 😭😭

Hcs UTC

Satan: The Unicorn

- I think he should look more beastly overall like hes some wild creature that just emerged from the forest

- His pants should look like hooves like those bellbottom esque fuzzy ish pants like

Shout out to someone in 1545 ig. Unicornis

Also spots should look more like. Horselike like speckled or splotchy

- Has two black stars and one green in the middle on his forehead

1. As a reference to Lucifer who created him and

2. A reference to how biblically unicorns were out of control beasts that could only be tamed by a virgin maiden (honestly im a lil tempted to write a fic of satan x sweet innocent reader but gn. Goodbye even)

- HES A UNICORN HE SHOULD HAVE A UNI HORN PLEAADEEE 😭😭😭 they should be a similar shape to Lucifer’s but one short one and should be able to summon a longer one below where the star diamond is on his forehead is when he gets pissed enough and both should be black with green tips + it would actually make him look more vicious too

- I appreciate them making the little bow look like ribs but I think it would be much cooler if his ribs just were sticking out and wrapping around his body and they were black and green

- Ribs should also have patches of fur resembling flames where they start (near his back or at his sides)

- I also think his tail should have short rugged fur lining the outside and it should get longer at the tip; I’m going heavy on the beast agenda I fear. He may clean up pretty well in his human form but he can’t hide his sin in his demon form cmon now y’all

- Since we don’t see his markings I’m making shit up and I think his markings should be fur lining his back and arms

- Just wanna say I resemble the fur wrap thing because it kinda resembles a horse tail/mane and the gray shirt bc it resembles a rhino (What unicorns in the bible were based on I think)

- A bit insecure about you seeing his demon form tbh. Thinks he will scare you and a little afraid he might do sth he’ll regret if he loses himself; he sees himself as beastly in that form, anger is a hideous emotion and he doesn’t want to scare his loved ones away like he used to when he was first born and always lashed out with full force, scaring his brothers (Don’t get me wrong if he’s angry he’ll show it but he wont let all of his anger out at least not at once and if he has to do sth drastic he’ll first isolate himself)

- Very nearsighted but refuses to get glasses and only wears them when reading (glasses are weakness)

- Bulks up a bit and gains more strength in his demon form frs

- Snarls when hes angry and sometimes sneezes in the middle of his anger often (it would be funny)

- Pact mark is only visible on your temple but internally spans throughout your veins and is not very big but grows the angrier you get post activation; that shit is freaky it can even cover your whole face and put your body in autopilot (like how anger issues people black out) if you get angry enough

- It’s pretty wicked its first shaped like a small spade but bulges like flesh; is similar to tanjiro’s mark somewhat

- Pact mark allows him to enhance your rage by giving you some of his own (can be a pro or con depending on the situation but i mean u can just tell him to stop iykyk policy)

Asmodeus: The Scorpion

- I THINK HE SHOULD BE VAMPIRIC Feeds on sexual energy and life force yk incubus/succubus thingz but he should have the fangies too imo

- Tired of them having collars and looking prim and proper so I’ve arbitrarily decided that his shirt should conjoin with his skin and become kind of like calcharos ult for VERY loose reference; hes the avatar of lust he can be shirtless ish

- IK I SAID NTM ON THE CLOTHES BUT UGHHH Imagine if he was wearing like a robe similar to aphrodite bc its like a nod to his past as a high angel but also how he’s steeped in desire and lust. Like its being held up by the roses, sheer will and the fact that it is conjoined with his skin

- Hc that he is like cupid and can see connections between people SO I think his spine should be lined with like. Arrow-like spines

- Despite being like cupid, he finds it really hard to genuinely connect people and find someone who enjoys his presence beyond his looks and will typically avoid people on his recharge days (he likes partying and being around people but its also pretty draining keeping people entertained which is why he usually brings someone with him. I also imagine this is how he and Levi connect “I guess we aren’t so different after all” type shi)

- He should have a tail. I thought about it for a while and like. ???? Scorpions tails are like their whole thing I think he should either have a tail or towards the bottom of his spines one of them is long enough to resemble a tail (his wings are cool but like he should have a. Tail)

- Tail/spines should have venom

- I think his markings should be connected, like the hearts are good but they should be connected in like a segmented line and wrap around his arm; preferably 7 to represent the scorpions seven chamber heart

- He needs glasses too and he only wears them when they go with his outfit otherwise its contacts (which he also introduced satan to)

- He should have more eyes on his face smaller eyes below his main two that only appear when open (otherwise his face looks normal just with slight slits you’d only notice if u were REALLY staring)

- Very tolerant to weather changes. He still acts like he’s dying but he def doesn’t have it as bad as Levi who is literally dying over there

- Pact mark is a tramp stamp and he won’t stop asking to see it gn. Its shaped like a hollowed heart with a design inside and becomes a spade with a similar design when activated as well as spreads a bit (as all the others do) its very classy and pretty tbh

- Activation is almost like. Erotic? It feels good but its almost like it steals the air from your lungs and makes your chest tighten; its a mix of pleasure and panic (not quite pain because it gives you urgency but not so much that it makes you want to stop) Unfortunately this isn’t something that really wears off but rather wears down and just becomes leas intense as you get used to it/stronger

- Pact mark allows him to shapeshift into you and anyone who you have had a sexual or romantic encounter with

Beelzebub: The Fly

- MOUTHS ALL OVER: A mouth on his forhead where his horn comes out of and the markings spread across his body can open, revealing mouths (def gotta have some on his hands I fear. Can also change the locations of his markings and can consume things such as magical energy through his mouths

- Should be able to create a third horn in the middle of his forehead to make his horns appear like a crown (Lord of the flies had a teeny lil crown its a bit funny)

- Should have more fur aspects like his wings should have fur at the base and around the outline maybe

- His markings should be furry and the fur makes it look like they’re black flames 🔥

- Should have four wings that appear like two until he gets ready for takeoff, to which they spread out real wide

- Ik he’s a really simple guy so his design is simple too but I think he’s just missing some of that demonic flair. He should have insect arms that he can control (they might look like sticks but they’re actually very strong and useful)

- Always wants to be around you. Always. Even though he moves insanely fast he always loops back around to match your pace

- A bit colorblind and nearsighted but is fast enough to make up for it

- Almost never gets sick but he’s usually the one who brings sickness in the house so his brothers have to make sure he cleans off before coming in 😭 (I imagine demons don’t get sick in the traditional way but its typically some behavioral or magical illness like a common cold for suc/incubi causing like them to be less efficient in seducing humans; like how asmo has his power with his eyes maybe his vision gets blurry for a few months/years or it makes HIM fall for the person he was trying to seduce)

- Lucifer has had to ban him from the kitchen because he kept eating food that already went bad especially if he was sleepwalking

- Can make a protein shake/smoothie out of anything !!!! No matter how erm. Odd the combination

- Always rubs his hands together and licks his lips before eating a meal

- I would like to propose….. him being in charge of the Devildom air force like how Levi is in the navy…. Ik ik came outta nowhere but Flies having those big ass eyes gave me the idea to out goggles on him that look like Fly eyes and then I was like ok well what if that was for when he’s flying and here we are

- OK STAY WITH ME NOW. He used to do the equivalent of illegal drag racing but flying and Belphie would always bet on him and thats how they made food money for Beel sometimes until Lucifer shut the whole thing down after finding out bc its a bad look for Diavolo he also doesn’t want his baby brother getting hurt but he wont say that (Belphie thought he was a killjoy)

- To him. It feels like wherever he goes death and despair follow and has gotten stronger and stronger so that no one close to him will ever die again (“I should’ve been strong enough so that the safest place for her would be by my side” -Marius von Hagen [he makes me so emotional]) (If you’re wondering how this is related its because flies symbolize triumph over adversity as well as death and decay)

- Pact mark is right on top of your stomach (above the bellybutton) and it looks like two triskelions (three wheeled spiral) stacked over each other to create six wheels as a reference to his prior angelhood but as well as a nod to his transformation

- Activation costs you a lot of energy and it feels like you’re starving like you haven’t eaten all day even if you just ate a hearty meal (you go back to normal a bit after activation but its a little maddening while its taking place)

- He can possess your body for a limited amount of time (typically only accidentally triggers this power) during this time any damage that his body takes transfers to you and vice versa (tbh this is much more risky for him than you bc his body is extremely strong so he’ll only take minimal damage but it’s a gamble with you)

- He can also steal some of the nutrients from your body so um. I’d be careful of that (he won’t ever actually do it but now that your bodies are connected he can)

Belphegor: The Cattle

- STOP SHOWING HIS FUXKINH EYE BEHIND HIS EMO HAIR/ sorry had to get that off my chest. It coulddd be something that could make him more eerie and off putting like a demon but his whole thing is that he looks cute and sweet but is actually intelligent and dangerous so maybe just. It shows in his demon form only if anything

- He should have a bell on his tail. It would be kewt. Not something he inherently has but he wags his tail in his sleep often so the brothers put it on him so they don’t trip over him (he hates it but he’s too tired to gaf)

- He should be more fuzzy too like having his right arm have an arm warmer rather than that sleeve that doesn’t even look connected like. Also theres a mix of fuzz and thorns on his person. It’s a gamble. Proceed with caution.

- His boots should be more like hooves kinda like what I said for satan but boots and more comfy looking

- They were way too shy with his cow spots imo. I think it should almost look like he has vitiligo (but with more melanin rather than less yk)

- HE SHOULD HAVE A LITTLE EARRING THAT LOOKS LIKE THE CATTLE TAG

- Got a nose piercing (septum I think?) after learning about piercings in the human world but doesn’t use it much anymore

- Nitpicky but I think his horns should end while sticking forward rather than curling out all the way to resemble a bull thats ready to charge

- Appreciating the fact that he has four belts likely to represent the four chambers of cows’ stomachs

- Separation anxiety victim NUMBER ONE. Especially after Lilith died he’s gotten so anxious being without his loved ones and never really wants to leave their sides bc he never knows when they’ll be gone

- He is Beel’s eyes and probably has the best vision in the family tbh 25/20 vision fr

- A lil colorblind though; affects his drawings and when levi asks him to doodle with him he always uses a unique set of colors (hes grabbing at them randomly)

- Likes to just watch his brothers socialize and be with them. An observer in his own home. The only reason he gets out of bed everyday is to see the people he cares about most

- Likes silly little puzzles, games and toys like rubix cubes and bouncy balls n shi but gets annoyed if you just give it to him and expect him to play by himself like !!!!! Keep him company !!!!!!!!!

- When he was trapped in the attic Lucifer would sometimes bring him enrichment toys and fill him in on current news or just sit there in silence to keep him company while turned away from him (If he looks at him too long he might fold and let him out; he loves his brother but. He thinks this is what needs to be done)

- Pact mark is on your thigh probably snug on the inside and whenever he’s laying on your lap he looks at it and maybe traces it before drifting off

- It probably looks like a symbol of a moon or spiral inside of a sun representing the midnight sun and the neutrality of the sloth sin (a sun that never rises or sets)

- Can sap your energy and make you see hallucinations or make you want to sleep; can probably put you in hibernation as long as it doesn’t hurt you and can eat your nightmares # dreamcatcher

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pets001 · 2 months ago

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Occasional Splash Zone: If your pet thinks it’s a swimming pool instead of a drinking fountain, be prepared for a little water ballet on your kitchen floor! 🩰

In summary, the Veken Pet Fountain is a game changer—your pets will thank you (in their own weird ways), and you’ll finally have a fountain that’s not just for show. So, grab one before your pet starts a protest about their hydration needs! 🐾💧

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (5/5 - would recommend to my friends, my pets, and maybe even my plants!) ________ Check Here !

#funny #lol #haha #humor #meme #memes #animal #animals #cat #cats #kitty #kittens #pet #pets #caturday #cats of tumblr #baby animals #cute animals #catblr

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alextydaisuda123 · 2 months ago

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And I said that @cutechan555 post inspired me so much that I wanted to draw a similar idea. But so far I've only come up with an idea with Pepperman, who has really big wings. Why? Because I wanted to 😂. And damn, I want those same wings 🥺.

They have their pros and cons.

Pros: he can warm himself up with them (he could even imitate something like a fluffy fur coat with their help); he flies great with them; if he needs to draw with a feather, he doesn't mind wasting his own feathers; he can hug anyone completely with them.

Cons: because of their size, he can knock over things or not fit through some passage; also because of their size, his folded wings slide along the ground, which makes them dirty and you can easily step on his feathers; it's uncomfortable to sleep with them (unless you straighten them out completely).

And yet, despite the fact that it was an absurd idea, drawing him with wings and fantasizing about their functionality was a good idea ÙwÚ✨️

#pizza tower #pepperman #pepperman pizza tower

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purplehanfu · 1 year ago

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Rating the Husbandos: The Story of Kunning Palace

notes: Spoilers! You really have your pick of men in this drama- but are any of them husband material?

Thoughtfully considered ratings behind the cut:

Xie Wei

A mysterious, tragic past is not a personality.

pros: Sexy as he looms over you in his fur collared capes. Exhibits very progressive thinking on women's issues. Which is strange considering all of his cons (see below).

cons: Explosive temper; violent; acts like he owns you; keeps trying to choke you (and not in a sexy consensual way); expects you to be grateful when he doesn't kill you in service to his grand revenge plan. Tough guy demeanor which he can only back up with the judicious application of his lackeys. Backstory so complicated you kind of lose interest. Looks like he has conjunctivitis a lot of the time.

hobbies: Making qins and tracking the wood shavings all over the house. Being afraid of snow except when the plot requires him not to be.

sexxin: Endless stamina and exquisite anatomy. Too bad he has no idea what he's doing. Cries after sex and gets mad when you laugh about it (why would you do that you monster).

Grade: C-

Zhang Zhe

Sometimes being hot is enough.

pros: HANDSOME

cons: His devotion to truth and justice will probably get him killed in the course of some courtly intrigues but the real tragedy is that he will never lie to spare your feelings. He will, however, compare your cooking unfavorably to his mother's.

hobbies: Restoring antiques; doing his own laundry

sexxin: Pathetic but you have to pretend it's great or he will become obsessed with improvement. At least the view is nice.

Grade: C

Yan Lin

A cheerful sweet ray of murderous sunshine.

pros: Smart, handsome, thoughtful, loyal, excellent martial arts, terrifying military skillset. You're his one and only, his ride-or-die, his day one.

cons: Related to Xie Wei

hobbies: Swordplay (see below)

sexxin: Complete freak in the sheets. Hope you have a strong bed and a soundproof bedroom, you're going to need both.

Grade: A+

Yan Lin's Dad

Reporting for duty.

pros: Has his own army but doesn't make a big thing about it (the Emperor and Xue family do, however).

cons: Frequently has the intensity dialed up to 11 when the situation clearly calls for a 6.

hobbies: Carving figurines for his 3-D map sandbox thing

sexxin: As expected of a military man he is good at taking orders and completing missions. His courage tongue should be awarded for its service to the nation you

grade: B+

Emperor

Heaven must have a sense of humor because it mandated this guy.

pros: Easily seduced by you.

cons: Easily seduced by people other than you. Married. Paranoid. Sickly but that might just be poison (if so add "unable to poison him" to the con list).

hobbies: Marveling at how good he is at seducing people.

sexxin: His game is as weak as his constitution.

grade: a solid F unless you want to murder your way to Empress, then he's a D

Fake Xie Wei

Ain't nothing like the real thing.

pros: social butterfly at parties, everyone knows him, can give you a wild night out on the town even if it's Tuesday and you're in some backwater village.

cons: is an actual con artist

hobbies: Collecting STDs

sexxin: so good you might be tempted to forgive him for his wandering eye. Don't. Just enjoy him if you must and move on.

Grade: D-

Gu Chun Fang

Hear me out.

You've been married more than 40 years. When your parents first arranged your marriage he snuck into your rooms that night to make sure you were ok with it. You fell in love at first sight. You never had children despite years of trying but he has never so much as looked at another woman. You come from a huge family and he has many young subordinates so your mansion is always very lively. Your New Year's parties are the stuff of legend.

pros: In all his years as an official he has never once made you get up early to help him get ready for court sessions.

cons: Would have no clothes if you did not buy them for him, would never eat if you did not arrange his meals, would fall asleep at his desk if you did not force him to come to bed.

hobbies: Collecting weird ugly giant rocks which he deposits in the various courtyard gardens of your mansion. Pretending to fish but really just taking a nap.

sexxin: After all these years you can still make him blush with a whispered invitation. Adorable.

Grade: A+ but he's not available and never will be

Dao Qin

It's always the quiet ones.

pros: Loyal; physique that was created as though by the gods themselves; surprisingly high EQ

cons: Kinda sad life made this guy an NPC when he has such strong main character energy.

hobbies: designing and crafting hidden weapons and/or cat toys

sexxin: You have seen the top of the mountain, and it is good.

Grade: B+

Master list of all show recaps etc.

#the story of kunning palace #zhang ling he #zhou jun wei #wang xingyue #this may become a regular feature #rating the husbandos

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united-as-one · 3 months ago

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Mingyu called this: 'Scouting the Competition', as the incubus steps foot into the club with fur coat, sunglasses and an allure that was all too enticing. There were some who seemingly recognised him but he waves them off with a blown kiss before arriving at the bar to order his drink of choice. A bloody mary, a fitting drink for someone of his stature and abilities. But it was within this club that he captures the scent of someone very similar to himself. Intriguing to say the least, it seemed the competition had their own demon...

Finishing his drink and removing his sunglasses, Mingyu's eyes glaze over the surroundings taking into account the pros and the cons, the good views and the bad. Curiously though, there was one that did capture his gaze, a man that he knew possessed the strong scent that was filling his lungs. The incubus approaches, teeth clasped gently around the arm of his glasses, pushing past others and patrons who were wishing to talk to the man in question only for the host to push through, a wad of cash already in hand.

"I'll pay you double your rate for some private time right now." He says with a small smirk, outbidding the others almost immediately. The joys of being a rich host. "I know what you are, handsome. Finding ones like me are very hard to find, I thought I'd survey this establishment and have made my choice on who I want to spend the night with. You, sir. Now what do you say we take this somewhere better?~" - @hcttogo

#Supernatural AU; Mingyu (IC)#hcttogo (wolfgang)#hcttogo #/NUMBER 2!!!!

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nomsfaultau · 1 month ago

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Dumbest question ever but what are the pros and cons of being in a relationship with any of the sbi crew because I. Genuinely don't know how to choose without practicality and whatnot wkdjkwalwk

I'm incredibly aroace so take all this with a grain of salt. Also this is so very specifically my scp au and is just for the bit. But from what I can tell:

Tubbo

Pro: Free honey. Can fly to get up to the top shelf. Plus they're a buy 1 get 3. Of the Hive members, Rhodes was straight up in a successful marriage for like 40 years, so they know how to do long term commitment and love. He can talk you out of jail. Rosalind has been deemed psychically and personality ‘hot’ by the discord and there are not a lot of women options if you like those.

Con: Well Jasmine is a precious baby, so sometimes that isn't your spouse depending on who is fronting. Also. I imagine having a partner who is a husk filled with honey is not always ideal. Such as during a bear attack.

Philza

Pro: Literally this post if you want malewife scp Philza propaganda. His whole thing is undying dedication to someone. Can preform bridal carries no matter what. Best option on s’more night. Very warm hugs. Muscles if you like those. Conveniently gender/sex fluid for personal preferences (might take a few years tho). Remembers you for all eternity.

Cons: will murder anyone who inconveniences you. Unless that is a pro for you. Also has no life except waiting for you to get home, loser.

The Blade

Pro: Big. Strong. Fluffy. Very fluffy. If you’re a furry, there you go. Like imagine just sinking into his fur and disappearing. Can instantly embarrass anyone you don’t like in any type of challenge.

Cons: no board game night. Will win any argument with you. Is the least romantically inclined of the group by a lot (not that anyone is cause again aroace writer). Cannot fit inside most houses.

Wilbur

Pro: 100% Tumblr sexyman archetype. You could fix him. Okay ignore the fact you could say that about all of them. Height difference no matter what, sharp teeth, tentacles.

Cons: Afraid of commitment. Might eat you, unless that is a pro for you. Refuses to sleep near anyone. Human racist. Will eat out of the dumpster.

Tommy

Pro: Extremely loyal. He would die for you. Also the easiest of the lot to get into human society. Can get your enemies to pick a fight with a bear.

Cons: Just can't hold hands with that man. Or touch him at all. Leaves residue everywhere and ruins blankets.

Plus like, personalities or something maybe idk

#i ran out of motiation rip i tried tho #sbi #sbi au #dsmp #sbi scp au #mcyt #tommyinnit #technoblade #philza #tubbo #fault au #scp philza #scp tommy #scp technoblade #scp tubbo #scp wilbur #something to nom on

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cityan1mal · 6 months ago

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Pros of being outwardly "human"

I get to wear cute clothes

I can buy my own toys

Human dens keep cool in summer easily

I get to draw

Cons of Being outwardly "human"

I HAVE to wear the clothes

No fur to keep me warm furthering need for clothes

I have to do this "work" thing to have "money" to buy said tous

Human dens are made for humans and fit me weird

Hands I draw with cannot easily translate to all fours.

#therianthropy #therian #otherkin #alterhuman #therianthrope #alterhumanity #wolf therian #physical therian

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kanene-yaaay · 5 months ago

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Bunny Fields

Kanene's notes: Hi hi hiiiiii!!! Good afternoooooon!!!! The fic is finally here, let's goooo!! This is a gift for @squeaky-n-blushy for being absoluetly incredible and almost making me scream out loud w her comments and hcs and fics. Tu é um arraso, mana!

Warnings: There's a bit of animals tickling someone, not sure if it counts as warning but besides that, nothing more! Just a light cheer up tickles <3. Ticklish!Jin Ling and Ler!Shizui. Around 7.000 words.

[~*~]

Lan Shizui smiled. His eyes closed as the cold wind caressed his hair and filled his lungs, muscles immediately relaxing, making his usual straight posture falter just a bit. There was the rustling sound of the leaves and birds singing nearby to help the calm, relaxed atmosphere that fell over him and confirmed his growing suspicion that it was going to rain later after the sun set. There was still plenty of time to enjoy and spend on his favorite place, however.

It took a few moments and no time at all for the feeling of something soft and fluffy graze his fingertips.

Shizui bit back a joyful giggle. Restrain was difficult when he felt so at home like this, but he was no longer a tiny child squealing and gasping in wonder at each new joy, letting instead delight and contentment be shown in his small smiles and the happy dance of his heart and soul.

As he opened his eyes, he was graced with the image of a small bunny hopping even closer, past his hand and right to his robes, smelling them before lovingly chining it.

An indignant sound ressounded behind him and the young boy quickly put the bunny on his lap before it was scared away, again, petting it with care and offering a slice of cucumber in an appeasingly manner. From a nearby bush, another bunny moved and looked at him, nose twitching with the promise of food.

“Why do they keep coming only for you?!” Jin Ling complained indignantly, his new round of protests only coming to a halt when a pair of fluffy ears perked just about his right.

His eyes zoned to them like an arrow to its target, robes twirling around him as he fastly turned to the animal’s direction and hastily offered the vegetable, one hand supporting him on the ground, keeping his expensive clothes away from the grass as the other stretched the farthest away as it was humanly possible in his attempt to attract the bunny. Initially it hopped a few inches away in a wary distance, making him have to stretch even more.

Even as impatience began nicking at his mind, Jin Ling kept his stance, until the bunny was back and staring at the food with interest, nose twitching and ears turned in his direction, its tiny mind clearly calculating the pros and cons of getting close to The Loud Human and having some free delicious snack or go back to its quiet safety but with no fresh snack. It was black with a big white spot on the base of his left ear and every time it moved the spot fluttered around as well.

After a few moments passed, the bunny hopped close.

A surprised, sharp gasp came out from the leader of the Jin Sect and both boys held their breaths, watching as it stopped momentarily with his noise before coming closer and closer. The slice almost trembled on his fingertips with his barely contained excitement when the animal stopped in front of it.

An experimental nibble was taken. Pride and warmth began filling Jin Ling’s chest and he prepared to crawl in its direction, already imagining how soft and fluffy that fur would feel when he finally got to hold and pet-

A white blur passed like lightning under him, not even faltering or stopping its dash even with the loud surprised shout from the young boy as he fell on the ground with the scare. It simply continued its path and barreled on the black spotted bunny, hopping like crazy around it and then running away in all its glory and speed, quickly being followed by the first one with energy.

Jin Ling watched as they went away, his eyes narrowing when he saw something suspiciously green and round in one of the bunnies’ mouth, only then turning to look at his hand and realize that his fingers were holding onto nothing, the fresh treat being successfully stolen away.

He felt his entire face burning with the knowledge that he just had been outsmarted by a tiny and fast bunny.

He turned around and laid on the grass with his arms crossed, pout evident on his face and growing stronger as he heard Shizui’s quietly concealed giggles of amusement.

“Stupids rabbits!”

Bunnies, actually, but the Lan didn’t think his friend would appreciate his correction at the moment.

Jin Ling stomped his feet once in frustration and for a moment the image of a small, round bunny wearing the yellow robes of the Jin sect and with a tiny red spot on his forehead, angrily stomping his feet on the grass flashed in Shizui’s mind, which didn’t really help him with the whole ‘not-laughing-at-your-friend’s-predicament’ thing. Jin Ling seemed to get even more energetic at this.

“That is why dogs are clearly superior! Even before being trained, Fairy already knew how to recognize a strong and trustful cultivator from a threat. Those rabbits are just scared of everything.”

Shizui did not point out who had just been scared by one of them not even a niàn ago, nor rolled his eyes at the other, knowing that even the half amused and half annoyed huff he let out in answer to his complains already tip toed the line of self control his sect was known and respected for.

“Do not bully the weak.”

“Weak?! Wasn’t you watching how it jumped on the other bunny and stole my treat? The only one bullying the weak here was it itself. Maybe you didn’t explain your rules to them well enough.”

Shizui felt his cheeks prickle with a small bound of heat. Since Jingyi told Jin Ling about his old habit of reciting the sect’s rules to the bunnies as a kid in order to better memorize them, the Jin haven’t left him alone until he showered said special place and bunnies to him (with Hanguang-Jun’s permission, of course).

Usually, and especially since becoming the First Disciple, Shizui shouldn’t engage in senseless banter. For a moment, he truly intended to ignore his friend’s clear provocation… but the need to defend his younger self was stronger. “They are good listeners.”

“And clearly bad learners.” Jin Ling grumbled, watching with envious eyes the bunny on his lap and the couple more surrounding him before turning around sharply, only to find the pair of black and white still jumping around the grass, the slice of cucumber now nibbled to half and in the other’s rabbit mouth.

He bit back a curse and turned to look at the sky. “Isn't it your obligation as the First Disciple to handle punishments? Go teach them something.”

A snort rang in the air and Jin Ling turned around just in time to see Shizui’s surprised smile for a flash before a long white sleeve ran to politely hide it.

“Maybe this one should ask shifu for some little brushes and paper? Before herding all of them to the Library Pavillion to copy the rules in handstands?”

Only then Jin Ling realized the absurdity of his words, the mental image of a bunch of bunnies following Shizui in line with tiny brushes and books as students with bad behavior eased his frown and thawed his moping into amusement.

He didn’t smile, but also didn’t snark back and instead turned back to the clouds, enjoying the scenery.

Soon enough his eyes began prickling with tiredness and he yawned, blinks getting slower and slower as the gray clouds continued to accumulate in the sky. Since becoming a Sect Leader, there was always something to do, some problems to resolve, a meeting to attend, emergencies that were of the utmost importance and needed his attention right now. Therefore, it was no surprise that his sleep became seriously affected by it, with little time to truly rest and even less time when his nightmares would leave him alone. It was rare to have… this. Time to just close his eyes and joy, to oblige his muscles to relax and let his mind drift away…

Something heavy lays on his robes and he jumps on the same spot with a shout, stopping himself from scrambling away when he sees that it was just Shizui by his side, now holding a bunny protectively against his chest as he petted it into calmness again.

“WHAT-” The bunny squirmed in the Lan’s hold and Shizui stared at him with a serious sharp gaze. Jin Ling frowned back, although his voice lowered, begrudgingly. He grabbed one more cucumber slice from the porch attached to his hip and offered to his friend to calm down the animal. Eventually, the bunny settled again on Shizui’s hold. “What do you think you were doing!”

Shizui watched him with such a neutral and unimpressed face that Jin Ling instectevely shivered with how similar to Hanguang-Jun he looked in that moment. In answer to this thought Jin Ling only scowled harder. If they are showing off their heritages he might as well prove his.

“Stay still.” With the corner of his eyes, he saw Jin Ling opening his mouth. “And be quiet.”

That only made his friend bristle even more, taking a deep breath in preparation for what could only be the start of a mix of threats, complaints and protests, so Shizui ran to lay the bunny again on his stomach, successfully shutting him up.

Interrupting was against the rules, but technically he was just finishing his previous comment and Jin Ling hadn't started to talk yet, so, with a lighter tune, he quickly continued before the other found his words again.

“They get easily scared with sudden noises and movements. We need to be careful.”

Jin Ling didn’t bat an eye at him and his words, currently too focused on the bundle of fluff that hopped to his chest and sniffed his fingers when he offered his hand, letting him pet it without a fuzz.

He let out a soft gasp when the bunny lifted itself to its hinder legs and began cleaning its face. Shizui was pretty sure that no emergency or obligation in the entire cultivation world could convince Jin Ling to move a single muscle now, his entire form melting back on the grass, completely attentive simply only to the cute animal on him.

Shizui could relate.

He watched the small smile blossoming on his friend’s expression and how clearer that made the heavy shadows under his eyes and his previous sour mood stood out.

Since he and lan Jingyi met Jin Ling, he had been energetic, grumpy and not afraid at all to speak his every thought in a way that Shizui could only wish to understand, going into dangers and ideas head first, defending what he believed with his entire being and bickering or even fighting with anyone who disagreed with him and tried to cross his path.

In those last months, however, it had been clear that the stress had been taking a toll on him. It was not as bad as the first seasons when his entire world came crashing down around him in a single night and he suddenly went from heir to leader of his sect.

Yet, lately he was still clearly jumpier and easy to startle than normal. His presence had became even more scarce than previously during their usual night hunts, his remarks more painful and his regretting silence after those louder.

Each and every one of those details accumulated and flashed in front of Shizui’s eyes like flaring signals, asking without words for immediate support.

To see him now, taking it easy, being full of excitement and softness, it only made Shizui’s determination to keep cheering him up like this even stronger. Quickly, he turned around, gray eyes fastly jumping around the field in search of more bunnies to bury the other under.

There was nothing better for lighting someone’s mood than being under a pile of cuteness and fluffiness, of that he was sure.

He had just successfully coaxed two more bunnies on Jin Ling and had just turned around to attract a fourth one when a barely concealed giggle froze him on the spot.

Jin Ling tried to scrunch his neck, but stopped mid movement when the rabbit just shoved its nose even more on the spot. It had spotted his brilliant red ribbon and got closer, wanting to give it a few experimental nibbles before the human quickly maneuvered the fabric away, hiding it under his head and hair from the curious bunny. Now, very much likely in a petty show of revenge, the small ball of fluff began sniffing his neck non stop.

As soon as the uncharacteristic sound was stolen away by the wind, Jin Ling turned around with wide eyes to stare at Shizui’s back, hoping that he hadn’t listened to the most embarrassing giggle he just let out.

(Look! He had been caught by surprise, ok? You try to contain your reactions when a stupid rabbit discovers your weakness and decides to start exploiting it as revenge for you trying to save its life!)

The Lan, however, seemed much concentrated to continue his mission of determinedly gathering more and more rabbits to absolutely submerge Jin Ling with them, for some reason. He would’ve sighed in relief if the moving ball of fur hadn’t just decided to start nuzzling right under his chin, resulting in a brand new round of giggles to bounce back and forth on his throat, being held back only by his lips being desperately pressed in a thin line.

“You dumb animal,” the heir of the grandious Jin sect refused to acknowledge the slight tremble in his voice, whispering his words so Shiziu wouldn’t realize the predicament he is in. If he, or even worse, Jingyi discovered about him being ticklish he would have to kill them himself in order to not die from embarrassment.

Besides, he was a sect leader, now. Sect Leaders simply were not ticklish.

As if actively contradicting him, the little tickly sensations continued to assault his nerves.

“Cut this off or I’ll break your legs!”

The rabbit continued being a rascal and ignored his warnings, pretty much like he himself when his uncle used that same threat with him, knowing he was all talk.

He bristled indignantly at being ignored and quickly lifted his arms, scaring one of the bunnies left on his torso to the ground

The other flinched and looked at his arms with suspicion, not far from following the other’s lead.

Swallowing a loud squeak - because the stupid little demon on his shoulder decided that his ear looked very interesting and began nuzzling it too - he changed his path to pet the second little fluffy ball on his belly because he wasn’t actually so petty - different of some animals as it seems - to scare the rabbits Lan Shizui left under his care just because of a few accidental tickles.

The animal quickly calmed down again and went dutifully back to search his robes for more snacks since the four slices of cucumber Jin Ling gave to it had already been devoured.

(What a greedy thing!)

It had just started to sniff his porch with curiosity when a tiny lick hit his neck and the one in yellow robes had to use all his self control to stop an honest squeal to leave from his mouth, transforming it into a yelp as his hands flew to grab the sneaky little rascal out of his shoulder. His cheeks burned from interrupting the silence with his uncontrolled reactions once again.

“I am going to roast you.” He brought the big, round thing next to his face, right in front of his eyes so he could glare at it better.

Once again, he must not have put too much heat on his mumbled threat because the rabbit only squirmed on his hold, obliging the grumpy, frowing leader move his hands to better secure it, supporting the torso and bun, before it went right back to to excitedly licking his face.

With a protesting and dramatic disgusted sound, Jin Ling pulled it away from him and made a face, showing off his tongue in what he knew was a childish move, but after so much blatant disrespect, he didn’t care anymore.

“Stupid rabbit, I will start licking you back, see how you like it!”

“Do not bully the weak.”

“Shizui!” The surprised expression made clear that the Lan had been successful in his attempt to not be discovered watching such a cute scene with the corner of his eyes, smiling fondly with drops of exasperation. Jin Ling’s face was slightly red and contorted in a scoff. “Shut up!I am not bullying anyone, this… thing here is the one that started everything. He hates me!”

Both boys turned to look at the bunny, still sitting comfortably in the other’s careful hold and totally taking advantage of his distraction to chin his cheeks energetically. Shizui very carefully did not lift one dubious eyebrow when he turned to stare at his friend again, but for the way that Jin Ling jolted on the same place and made a face, eyes staring back in defiance, he must have realized his true feelings anyway.

The one in golden robes opened his mouth to say something - probably a snapping remark - but immediately choked, his mouth quickly clamping shut as his entire posture became stiff as a board.

“Jin Ling?”

Said one looked at him with wide eyes, hands coming down to hurriedly drop the bunny in his hold back on his shoulders, which seemed to be trembling a little. His moves were forced and unnatural.

Immediately looking around to find the reason for his friend’s sudden silence, Shiziu found his gaze being promptly captured by his torso, squirming around and almost dislodging the other bunny on his stomach, who kept its unrelenting digging on the porch tied on his belt, missing the target most of the time and giving the sides and stomach under it the treatment of the soft, stubborn paws, uncaring for how the torso under it kept trembling and shaking under it.

His eyes changed their focus now to Jin Ling’s arms that jerked to his midriff. That was the moment the bunny he had just decided to put down began delivering licks and nuzzles back again on his neck, now free from any restraints and enjoying the opportunity present with the best of its ability.

Jin Ling's hands went up to his shoulder and then right back down, clearly not sure of each animal to take care of first, face getting even more red as the moments went by and the attack simply continued, lips pressed so firmly that they formed just a straight line on his expression, his cheeks starting to poof.

So it was true, Jin Ling definitely was…

Shizui tried to not smirk with mischievousness, doing his best to keep in mind and reflect in his body the sect’s rules.

(Do not bully the weak.)

However, Jin Ling was a very strong companion, a capable cultivator and admirable leader. No other word could be more unfitting to describe him than ‘weak’.

(Cherish your companions and friends. Value your family. Stay honest to your beliefs. Do not treat outsiders of the sect differently.)

He was here to help Jin Ling to relax and cheer up. If a new opportunity to do so presented itself so perfectly in front of him, it would be foolish to not acknowledge the benefits that resulted from it.

“Let me help you, then.”

Jin Ling could almost breathe in relief when he felt the rabbit on his stomach being lifted away, taking care of half of his attack. With mind and arms now free from the uncertainty, he moved to move the other one as well.

The moment of peace was soon over, however, when nimbly fingers took over its place and began digging and scratching on his sides with much more skill and precision than the animal.

He jolted with a squeal and the giggles that were already trapped on his throat spilled freely, seemingly to only encourage Shizui’s attack even more. The Lan focused in exploring every spot of sensitive skin, pinching and skittering everywhere those skillfully fingers could reach, finding the weakest spots and attacking them without mercy all while he kept evading without even a blink the clumsy dance of his own hands as they tried to stop him from his tickling and pulling the most embarrassing sounds from him.

A squeeze hit his hips and the initial giggly fit quickly grew to a loud laughter, his reactions seeing much harder to control when as soon as his barrier broke. With interest, Shizui’s hand latched on the spot, kneading the flesh and scribbling on the bone, very much satisfied with the answering guffaws that it resulted.

Such sensations spreaded like fire across his skin, a buzzing feeling that went from his hips to his entire torso in ticklish sparkles and funny tingles, mixing with the soft feeling of soft and fluffy nuzzles on his neck like a unbearable dance that made his smile grow wider and his laughter stronger.

“No!” He tried to growl in protest, but it came out more like a whine as he held the other’s wrist in reflex, briefly pulling it away from his torso when another high pitched squeak scurried away from his lips. In a flash, his friend’s other free hand (where was the rabbit?) had been quick to jump to the rescue, diving under the captured one and latching on his torso with energy. Fingers hopping from rib to rib, playing on each bone like they were the strings of a guqin until he was more focused in scurrying to hug himself than to keep the hand secure in his hold, squirming at every prodding and vibrating that attacked the spaces in between them as if the was dutifully tuning an instrument. “D-do not! Shizui!! Whahahat are you doing?”

“Helping you.”

“You are not! C-cut it out!”

Shizui’s next words were drowned by a shriek as another cold thing touched his neck. With a foreboding sensation Jin Ling realized that the other rabbit had joined the first one next to his shoulder, also sniffing and chinning him in a horrible, revengeful attack.

(What had he even done to this one?!)

“Get out, leav-eek! Leave my ribbon alone!” His voice wobbled and his words were completely taken over by plenty of snickers and chuckles, eyes closed from how much he was smiling, the sensations exploding behind his eyelids like flares. “Why do you keep licking me!”

He tried to scrunch his neck again in a poor attempt of protection, not really being successful since the bunnies simply deviated their attention and buried their stupid fluffy bodies and their stupid tiny, pink noisy noses behind his ears with energy and obliging him to move his face away, by instinct, which, of course, only opened even more places for them to explore, more tittering snickers and protesting squeals filling the air.

“Maybe it’s because of your… sweet personality?” Shizui cringed internally, then deflated, somehow glad that his friend was very much occupied laughing his heart out to point his thoughts out. Jingyi was much better at puns.

The fact that Jin Ling’s face still pulled into a frown, a quite weird one since there was a gigantic smile on his face, was still equally amusing, though.

“That was horrible! Bunnies do not eat sweets.”

“Fruits are sweet.”

“I am not a fruit!”

A twinkle appeared on Shizui’s gray eyes and for a moment he looked so much like Wei Wuxian that dangerous warnings began blasting on his mind. “Maybe they confused you with a red bayberry?”

Jin Ling felt his already blushing face be set ablaze with stronger flames. A series of offended and incoherent noises fell like a snowstorm from his mouth, legs starting to kick with giddy energy and his torso to more energetically twist away. The offending hands simply kept following him, although, no matter how much he turned this or that way, drumming quicker and stronger on his higher ribs for the trouble.

He prepared to string a completely cohesive and strong argument that may or not contain a few threats of breaking legs or imminent death when said worming fingers decided to climb and shove themselves in his armpits.

A shot cut across the air as Jin Ling arched his back. It took a few moments for him to realize that such inhuman sound had been his, especially as more and more shrieks continued to be fished from his lungs.

Shizui faltered for a couple of moments, surprised with his sudden stronger reaction, fingers stilling and trembling as he stopped himself from chuckling out loud in amusement at the reaction. Guffaws and snorts continued to fill the air and he gave the - as it seems - absurdly, awfully ticklish skin under his nails a quick, light series of scribbles.

Another screech left Jin Ling’s lips and he jumped on the same place, giddy, anticipatory giggling escaping from him even when the other stilled his fingers again. The first disciple of Gusu Lan felt his own mouth twitching into a grin.

“Shizui!”

Humming in lieu of an answer, Shizui started once more his skittering, now trying to add some stronger pressure as he scratched every available patch of skin. He watched as Jin Ling’s legs began kicking again with a new kind of fervor, moves growing quicker and more frenetic the longer he went.

His eyes squinted a little bit in thought. Freeing one of his hands, he pulled one of Jin Ling’s arms upwards, ignoring the yelp (and more tittering) that this resulted.

Making his touch light and soft again - not unlike the quick tracing of brush on paper or the quick plucking of a guqin’ cords -, the Lan ran the tip of his fingers on his inner elbow, watching as the other descended back to a hysterical snickering, kicks going from trashing to a steady pace of stomps.

(Lan Shizui tried to wash away all his smug thoughts of how hard it would be to hit such a sensitive place when wearing all the layers required by the mountains' weather. Such a pity the Jin’s golden robes weren’t as thick and numerous as Lan’s, truly.)

Then, with no warning he dived back to his pits, clawing them until another round of shrieking started anew together with, to his immense delight, energetic and quick kicks that continued to follow the speed of his tickling.

It was almost impossible to distinguish the red Vermillion’s mark in Jin Ling’s forehead with how red his entire face was. “Stop playihihihing!”

Jin Ling clasped his arms tight on his torso, trying to protect himself way too late and succeeding in only trapping his hands closer and looking one step closer of completely losing his mind.

“Get out of there!” But the rabbits also kept him let out the most embarrassing yelps and squeaks and Jin Ling no longer knew to whom his order was directed to.

“Lift your hands up and I will.”

The sect leader scoffed. It came out sounding like a snort. “I’m not falling for that!”

With a sort of amusement, Shizui watched as his friend’s reactions began fluctuate once more, according to the kind of tickles he delivered, going from a hysterical, loud giggly fit when he wormed his hands a little down low and decided to poke and prod his higher ribs, - quickly jumping from one spot to other to hear those funny, lovely squeals that appeared each time Jin Ling was caught by surprise, - to an uncontrollable round of crackles and screeches when he decided to vibrate non stop on his pits, making him kick and squirm and arch his back with no real way to escape the ticklish feeling that flooded his nerves in a fun kind of electricity that would put Zidian to shame.

(May his uncle never hear this.)

It took several tánzhǐs before Jin Ling’s mind stopped screaming and the next words of the Head Disciple of Gusu Lan finally sank.

The fact that the rabbits finally got tired from (all the movement and decided to look for food somewhere else) messing and attacking him might have helped.

“Lying is forbidden in Cloud Recessess.” Shizui reminded, watching him with an unusual playful gleam that didn’t inspire a lot of confidence in his words.

But Jin Ling wasn’t a little, easily tricked kid anymore. He had grown up with plenty of… experience to know a trap when he saw one.

“You’re just going to-” His voice disappeared in a loud squeal and he tried to give the boy in white robes an annoyed glare before it faded in the smile on his face, especially as Shizui continued to focus on that spot between his armpits and ribs, pulling more and more squealing laughter.

However, he was the nephew of Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian, and no one could shut him up when he had something to say!

He took a breath and spilled everything before the other could stop him again.

“You’re only going to tickle me more!”

Instead of the surprised face of someone who was caught breaking his sect’s main rules by being a dirty liar, Shizui only smiled calmly at him.

“I assure you. If you put your hands up, I will not tickle your armpits anymore.”

Then, he kneaded on the flesh and digged his fingers, as if reminding him how absolutely unbearable and insufferable the tickling truly was, taking all the breath he had just gotten away in a wheezing crackle. “Which I can not promise if you keep me trapped here.”

For a while Jin Ling was too lost in laughter to concentrate, arms trying to go up only to go crashing right back down as the Lan just didn’t stop tickling him.

The sadic Lan he called a friend continued to soften his touches to a light, maddening scribbling just after each attempt, only to go back to full on drumming on his poor pits the moment he managed to lift his arms the tiniest bit, cutting off all his progress.

“Why are you doing this!”

“Doing what?”

“Tickling m-” He cuts himself just as his mind caught his words, again, he turns a (non effective) frown and a glare (without heat) to his friend, who now loses the battle against himself and begins to softly snicker.

Jin Ling frowns harder at how warm that makes him feel. It is still a funny image with all the smiling and laughing. “I already said I am not falling for that!”

“You only need to put your arms back up, Sect Leader Jin, and I will not tickle your armpits anymore.” His tune had… something. If it wasn’t Shizui, it would almost sound as if taunting.

Still, it made Jin Ling bristle and, with all the strength he could gather, shot both of his arms up at once. They shook and trembled with plenty of laughter frolicking across the grass, yet they were kept high up.

Shizui stopped immediately and Jin Ling waited, anticipation prickling on his skin, for the moment those tormenting fingers would go back to assaulting his pits.

With wide eyes, he watches, instead, as the other simply pulls his hands away with a tranquil, almost knowing look in his face.

“Lying is forbidden in Cloud Recessess.” Shizui, once more, reminds him.

There is still… a kind of light in his eyes that keeps titters falling from the leader’s lips and a tingling to run across his nerves.

A breeze of air passed through them, making the hair on his neck stand up and him to prepare for another attack. He quickly pulls his arms right back down and Shizui adjusts himself so he is sitting on his legs, watching Jin Ling as if he is as silly as the big smile that is still plastered on his face.

Jin Ling begins to relax.

That is when, in a beautiful, blurring and fast flash of white, two hands latch on his stomach and started clawing with energy, scratching any and everywhere, kneading up and down, spidering all around, scribbling and pitching from side to side.

“No, no, no! Not the tummy, not the tummy! Shiz-” Another high screech was out of his lungs, a surprised, belly laughter (ha-) following right after. His voice got completely taken over by the force of the sound, totally unrestrained and unstoppable.

Lan Yuan really couldn’t help it.

He kept on tickling, kept looking for the spots that brought the most high pitched reactions, the cutest sounds, the sensitive places that made him bang his fists on the ground and try to roll away from the ticklish touches only to feel sneaking fingers swiping across his spine and dancing on his back over and over again until he was back to pressing his back on the ground, kindly putting his stomach right back at his tickly attention again and again.

It took him three tries, but soon Jin Ling was able to pass coherent words in between his slow, giggly and continuous descent into madness.

“I already commanded you to stop!”

And, just like magic, the tickling actually stopped.

Jin Ling kept feeling the ghost of the scribbles and tickles jumping excitedly across his muscles and nerves. He hugged his belly and tried to squirm away, but a firm touch on his torso prevented him from doing so, pulling his attention back to his friend as he kept trying to reign all the snickers flowing from him.

His smile dimmed a little when he realized that the other was frozen, as if stuck in a daze.

What was that about? Did he just get hit by a curse? Was someone approaching? Maybe Hanguang-Jun? Was that why he stopped all of a sudden? Jin Ling supported himself on his elbow and looked behind Sizhui, trying to see any hint of white robes, a guqin or Wei Wuxian.

When nothing besides a bunch of bunnies and trees catches his eyes, he goes back to stare at his friend, brows furrowed in confusion.

“You didn’t.” Lan Sizhui replies, as if this explains something.

“What?”

He jolts on the place when his strong, watching gaze falls on him, looking determined. “You didn’t.”

He starts to smile, something bright and happy. Jin Ling squints his eyes.

“You didn’t ask me to stop.”

With a shock, this time the leader of the Jin Sect was the one who froze, eyes widening with realization, mind running across the moments since the attack began. He surely would… I mean, it wasn’t as if Jin Ling actually still liked… Shizui simply must have been confused!

The blush on his face grows darker and darker.

“That doesn't mean anything! Besides, I shouldn't even have to! I- I-” His tune is as squeaky as his laughter, words jumping out of his throat before he can think too much about it.

Instead of giving up of whatever he was planning to do, however, Shizuis's face only continues to get fonder and fonder, transforming into something so utterly joyful and glad that it has Jin Ling stumbling to erase it before the other can start getting ideas. More sentences tumbles out of his mouth as his arms try to push him clumsily away. “You Lans shouldn’t even… We aren’t kids anymore!”

Shizui’s grin continues unchanging, shining in fondness and playfulness and Jin Ling continues to feel his neck getting progressively more and more hot.

“Animals still play as adults, especially bunnies.”

“What does that have to do with anything, we are not bunnies!”

“There is no age to have fun, A-Ling.”

Then his gray eyes got wide and panicked and the sudden change left Jin Ling so confused that, when the other hurriedly jumped in his direction, he only managed to defend himself in their wrestle battle for some moments before the mischievous hands were burrowing themselves once again on his armpits. Just the slight graze of the ticklish feeling was enough to turn his body into well cooked noodles until the other was able to bring him right back to the ground, kicking and laughing non stop as the drumming was right back.

“You said you wouldn’t tickle them anymore!”

His entire body shook with the peals of laughter, head being thrown back with the force of it. There was nothing else his senses could feel except that it tickled. It really, really tickled, even more now that Shiziu seemed to catch on just how much he didn’t truly mind the playful attack at all.

There was still mercy in the world, as it seems, though.

“That is true.” The digging stopped and Jin Ling barely had time to breath before his sides began to be attacked with some light and energetic spidering, rare pinches appearing here and there and making him buckle from one side to another with surprise.

The sudden change caught him out of guard and his belly laughter to fall back to a series of his embarrassing snickery giggles. His shoulders hunched up and he pressed his face on them, trying to at least muffle a little bit of such undignified sounds.

Lan Shizui must have some kind of mind reader amulet with him because in the very next niàn the soft tickling went back to an unmerciful kneading that made him squeal and squirm uncontrollably until his face inevitably came out of its hiding place. He began kicking his legs with all his might, making the other one turn around to look at them with a critical eye.

“Very well.”

And, as if they just had an entire conversation and arrived to some sort of agreement, Lan Sizhui freed one of his hands to squeeze on his right knee, summoning a loud snort, more and more of them being successfully mixed with his now wheezing fit to Shizui's happy delight.

The leader of the Jin Sect got stuck in a playful, tickly cycle of extending his legs in a poor and unsuccessful attempt to escape from the tickles, shaking them from a side to another since Shiziu discovered that scratching on the underside of his knees will get him wiggling and letting out an unending ‘eee’ sound and then getting his sides teased and scribbled on until he was a mess of giggles, pulling his legs up to another round of kicks only for his knee to receive even more squeezes.

Every step of the cycle kept being repeated over and over again, as thoroughly and carefully as possible, making him wheeze, yelp, squeal, snort (there was so, so much snorts, Jin Ling is never surviving this if Lan Jingyi ever finds out), snickers, guffaws and temporary barks of laughter that makes his shoulders bounce, his head to shake and his mind to go completely crazy with such a funny, unbearable sensation.

His core spinned and twirled with each moment, sending warmth and adrenaline across his every meridian, making every light touch, every poke and spidering much more ticklish than before. His smile is so big and there are so many memories of his childhood passing through his mind and he wants to pull and push the sensation away and…

And he giggles and giggles and giggles.

Finally, the tickling stops and Jin Ling just… melts on the grass. His mouth is still twisted in a smile longer after all his tittering and hammering heart calms down. Feeling so dizzy with adrenaline, giggly in joy and relaxed only highlights how much tense he was before.

He closes his eyes and just stays there, catching his breath, enjoying the breeze and wondering if he should get his revenge right now or wait to first bribe Jingyi into spilling all of Shizui’s best tickle spots and then get him, perhaps even with his help.

When his eyes open, his friend is there, petting a bunny that got close with one hand and holding a porch with the other. Jin Ling moves to sit and glare when Shizui turns with a calm, happy face to offer him water.

He opens his mouth to say something - a promise, a threat, a complaint - but no words come out so he simply gets the poach and drinks the water greedily.

Stupid noisy bunnies.

Stupid attentive Lans.

“Are you feeling better?”

Shizui at least has the sense of sounding a tad apologetic. As he should! Attacking someone (and a Sect Leader no less!) with such a… childish, unbecoming tactic. His uncle, Sect Leader Lan and not even Sect Leader Nie would be found fooling around like this in his place. Jin Ling almost bristles at him in answer.

The warmth and fact that he is the most relaxed he had been in days stops him. But still!

“What are you talking about?”

Shizui looks around and then at him, eyes catching his without fear or mockery and holding his gaze. They spend a moment like this until the other looks away with a soft sigh.

“You seemed stressed, lately, so I-”

(-thought to bring you to my safest space, where no worries can find you or matter.)

(-decided to tickle you until you looked and sounded so carefree that no problem would try to keep haunting your mind.)

(-remembered how easy and effortless it is to be playful around you.)

How silly would he sound should he say any of this. Words weren’t usually a problem for him and yet Shizui found himself not knowing exactly how to explain his motives.

“I wanted to show you the bunny fields. They’re always very effective to be calming and joyful.”

He decided to go with that.

“And since when do I need your help?” Jin Ling sniffed, “I am fine!”

Shizui blinked, stared at him, face showing no strong emotion. His eyes narrowed just the slightest bit.

He lifted one of his hands in a clawing motion.

“Wait! D-don’t! I just said that I am fine.” he made a noise between a scoff and a snickery sound. “Lying is prohibited here, isn’t it? As a sect leader, it would be unbecoming to disrespect your sect by not following them.”

He crossed his arms and their eyes found themselves again. Without even meaning to, Jin Ling’s voice softened. “I am fine.”

(Thank you.)

Shizui huffed, sounding both amused and relieved, smiling a little back. “Then I am glad.”

#Decided to put the fun facts on the next day's rb! It's just a few interesting points about reactions and a few choice of words #This isn't a very teasy one because I can't really see Shizui being like super teasy but! I tried mixing a little bit of wwx tricking-#-and teases together with Lan Zhan's more direct and attentive approach because I thought it would be fun if our lil a-yuan #mirroned his fathers' techiniques (at least how I hc them jugfgh) when tickling someone #mdzs tickles #mdzs tickling #sometimes I blinked and saw Lxc and Jc in the place of their nephews. ops.#Ticklish!Jin Ling #Lee!Jin Ling #Ler!Lan Shizui #Ler!Lan Yuan #Kanene's fics #Kanene's fanfics #If you found any big mistake or incoherency have mercy i am. so sleepy. lkijugtghjklmnbvvbnm #you all hype me so much to post my fics kjhgfghj i am really excited with this one. thank you so much <3

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