#and i took way too much time to develop the other oc's

[hoseoksluna]

LIQUID STARS | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. bam)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.8k

summary: to seal the deal, you give jungkook what he wants—your kiss, your cunt and your virginity.

playlist: liquid stars / pinterest board: wine

warnings: size kink, heavy dd/lg themes, provocation, dry humping, dirty talk, mentions of porn, oral sex (f. + m. receiving), multiple orgasms & countdown, dom/sub dynamics, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), first time, jealousy, inner child healing, plushie used during intercourse, jungkook fucks her numb & dumb, praise kink, cum eating, pet names and the establishment of a title, bondage, raw sex, tummy bulge, desperation, pain felt during intercourse, squirting

note: as difficult as it was to write this, i'm immensely thankful. this changed my life; it healed me and i'll dream about it for a long, long time. i was as exhausted as oc once i finished this, because i truly did give my all. everyone, this is part four to my series 'wine' and therefore the very end. this is the very beginning of jungkook's and oc's relationship. can be read as a standalone as there aren't any quirks from the other parts (except for bunny), though if you wish to read them now, now is the perfect time. now you can see the beautiful gradual development of their relationship. please, enjoy as you read and let me know your favorite parts bc i need to talk about this. heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that can be uncomfortable for some. thank you! and thank you for all the love on this series. i'll never forget it. i love you, guys. ʚɞ

side note: give some round of applause for 3D daddy provider jungkook everyone!! he deserves it!!!

Silky lilac bows adorn the tops of your pigtails that cascade down in loose braids, sprawled on the cotton of his pillow and on the soft belly of a bunny plushie. There are still traces of sunlight left on the bedding, which dissolve, little by little, into nothingness as the large star goes down, saying goodbye. It’s lightweight, the atmosphere—homely almost. And much to your surprise, you feel relatively at ease, despite the fact a man lies on top of you—a man you have a certain liking for. 

It was natural for you to end up here and you, yourself, wished for it, even. Deemed it was only right after the man took you around for a walk while his silly Doberman guarded each and every step both of you had taken in sync, especially so when he persisted in buying you a small plastic ring of the same bunny you’re lying against. He didn’t even forget about his own canine friend waiting outside patiently like the obedient dog he is, and fed him the snackies he got for him as soon as he returned from the shop. You swore Bam was as giddy as you when he received his gift. 

Now the ring glints in the last rays of the sun. His, too. 

While yours is as white as the cloudy morning sky, Jungkook’s is as black as the drowsily dozing night sky. You think it’s the perfect contrast between the pair of you. Not that you should be noting these things, considering you’re just friends. But his skin is satiny soft, painted in impressionist tattoos, while his muscles, that his well-fitted T-shirt graciously allows you to see, are strong. You’re sure he could just lift you and throw you around without much of a strain. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s such a striking image of pure beauty. How could you not notice these intertwinings when they’re this lovely?

You like him—without a shadow of doubt. Can feel the call of an emotional attachment forming the more he studies your skin with the tip of his index finger, embellished with the Miffy ring, and it’s owed to the fact you’ve never been touched this way before. No one has ever come this close, no one has ever been interested in the moles scattered upon your shoulders, in the veins that make the pathway to the column of your neck. No one has ever gazed twice at them—but Jungkook?

He hasn’t stopped looking at them ever since he laid you down in the middle of his bed. 

How could you stop such a call? Such a lull, such a magnetic pull. You know you should, but for the meantime, you simply don’t want to. Can’t lose this moment, can’t lose this once in a lifetime opportunity—

Jungkook presses his lips against the prominent mole in the center of your left shoulder. Those pretty, puffy lips, closing against your skin, the smallest dart of tongue swiping past. It shocks you for a moment before the feeling dissolves beneath, adjusting within the freshness of your system. How could you refuse such dynamic poetry, expressed against your own forlorn body? When it’s so blatant that it’s natural, that your body willingly accepts it without a fight. 

You couldn’t. 

Stretching your fingers between the thick strands of his hair, you close your eyes to savor the feeling of being wanted. The movement of his mouth, going even as far as to the first vein rooted in your arm—following it with those half-closed pillows. Up, up until he finds the line of your collarbone. Jungkook pauses there, simply breathes against you before he interperses little pecks there, nibbles and gentle swipes of tongue. The lining of your top won’t let him go further down, so he changes direction—relies on the pathway of your veins to guide him to your neck. And there… at the first contact, you grip the roots of his hair. 

His kisses and nibbles are much harder here. And what’s worse, he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. You fail at containing the whimpers that break out of your mouth and Jungkook reacts to them. Hums ever so deeply, rocks his hips against the mattress. You wish you were a bit bigger so you could feel the collision, but you’re just so small compared to his large form. You imagine he’s writing down the poems collecting inside of him with each cursive roll of his tongue. Wonder if there’s enough paper on your skin for all his words. 

“You sweet little thing,” Jungkook coos onto the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up and down before he stops at your jaw. You feel the warmth of his breath and his body heat seeps into yours, creating unity, blackening the ink. It feels strange, it feels so new. Brisk and springlike, like fresh air in a stuffed room. You want to stay here for a long time, tasting the wholeness of spring captured in him. You want his words to flush you red with the tinge of the entire sunlight that opens the buds of flowers during all seasons in a loop. “Can I kiss you?”

You haven’t gone beyond the innocent touching of hands with him. You brim with a tight feeling of thankfulness that he asked you such a graceful question, although something else steals your attention entirely. 

“Little?” you say, the smile on your lips pulled so taut that it quivers ever so slightly. It makes you crazy that he calls you that, but you play the game. Revel in it. “What do you mean little? I’m bigger than you.”

Jungkook cocks his brow at you, mouth falling into a lopsided grin. He sits back and you feel a whiff of coldness pass by the perimeter of your body, as if someone opened the window and let the winter air in, when it’s just his brief distance that caused it. The forming attachment in you tenses and before you can think about your actions, your hand finds his knee, his thigh and traces slow patterns there. Jungkook suddenly squeezes your waist, surprising you, and the ecstatic fluttering of butterfly wings break havoc all over your body. The solidness of his hands, their weight, their firmness, giving life to your body, meaning. You note how his fingers touch when he has his hands enveloped around you like that. And the inkling that your body matters in his hands like that slips into your mind, spreading through its axis. 

You bite your lower lip. A small ache begins to grow in your intimate parts. It’s so nice to be wanted, to be considered good enough to be touched, to be kissed. 

“You? Bigger than me?” Jungkook squeezes your waist again. Sucks in a breath through his teeth. Smiles softly; in a way that you find unbearably endearing. “No, you’re just little. Just a tiny, little bug. So tiny in my hands.” 

For the breath he inhaled, you exhale it. 

He leaves his hands there when he bends over you, hovering his lips over yours. His weight, his heat. You sigh against him in relief, in a newly blossoming excitement that he’s back again. You spread your legs wider, feet grazing his calves—

“Let me kiss you, please.” 

You’d give in, but the game is just so pleasurable. 

Your laugh is but a breath. “You wanna kiss me?” 

You exhaled, he inhaled. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Since when do friends kiss?” You cock your eyebrow at him just like he did, prodding your tongue on the inside of your cheek. 

He hovers a little bit higher above you, hanging his head in defeat, sighing. Places his hands in fists on either side of you, caging you in. 

“Premium friends do,” he mutters, lifting his head, face all serious. You dig your toe into the toned muscle of his thigh, twirling sweet little circles, gliding up and down. Watch as his eyes lid and he tries to control it. “Don’t do that or I’ll fuck you.” 

Your body panics, but you will it to relax. 

“Does that come with the premium subscription?” 

Jungkook purses his lips, supports his weight on one hand as the other, the tattooed one, grips your jaw. He squishes your cheeks, bites his lip once—seemingly ponders whether he should play your game or not before he lets go of your pout, but still keeps his hand there. He traces the shape of your lips with this thumb, feeding his desire to kiss you with scraps. 

“Yes,” he utters. “Kisses, orgasms, my dog. It’s all—”

Orgasms, not just sex. Orgasms. 

“I get to take Bam?” 

Jungkook tuts at you. “You get to take me,” he corrects you. “Though, can even such a little thing like you take me?” 

Probably not. Definitely not. 

“But what about Bam?” 

He looks at you as if he couldn’t believe the words you’re saying, turning his head slightly to hear you better. Then, he scoffs, running his tongue across his lips swiftly, letting them express the enjoyment of your provocation by stretching into a smirk. He places his hand back on the right side of you, thinking over his words. 

“Bam is mine, but you can pet him. You can kiss him.” You can hear the feigned venom in that word as he spits it and you grin, pleased with yourself. You enjoy doing this to him. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you take him out for his walkies.” 

You gasp slowly, fingers absentmindedly gripping his thigh. Butterflies buzz you with a mere hint of arousal and to convey it, you wet your top lip with the tip of your tongue. The dominance, the principle of proving to him whether you’re deserving of something. Your heartbeat quickens, reaching for him with each swell. 

Oh, you’ll be good. You’ll be good until he’s sick of it. 

It seems he’s as pleased with himself as you were with yourself, reading your body language as he beams down at you, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. You want to stick your fingers there, pinch the skin at the corners of his mouth. Feel them, kiss them—

“Deal.” 

Jungkook blinks at you. He most likely expected you to be difficult. You like the look of surprise on him. A sweet kind of glint perches itself upon his irises. You’re at awe of how he manages to be so adorable and alluring at the same time. You could never understand it. You deem he must be otherworldly. 

“A kiss to seal the deal?” he tries, raising his brows, lowering himself to his elbows. 

He skims his lips across your cheek, descending to your neck. Places one, singular kiss there. Lifts his head to hear your answer, a soft curtain of hair falling across his forehead. 

You make a face as if you’re thinking about it. 

Jungkook groans. 

It’s cold, the way he turns away from you and it startles you—but then he slides his hands under your back and lifts you with ease, sitting you down on his lap. He moves you from the muscles on his thighs to the hardness of his intimate parts and you groan at the feeling of it. You’re wearing an airy short skirt with tights and knee socks underneath, the barrier so thin that you feel the solid, thick shape of him right under your femininity. 

You rock against him once. Jungkook lets out a sound akin to yours, fingers flexing—hands almost reaching for your behind before he decides against it and keeps them planted against your back. 

He desires your consent. And that makes you feel light-headed. Tipsy on the wholeness of him, on the pleasure coursing through your body. 

You rock your hips again—and this time, Jungkook whimpers. 

You take your hands and, slowly, you make a pathway down his chiseled chest. He twitches against you when your fingers pass by his nipples, his body following and squirming along. And once you reach the definition of his abdomen, your hands rise and fall against its quickening movement as his lungs heave. You’re mesmerized by his reaction to your touch. It’s as if it was his first time as well and something about that makes you woozy, savage and absolutely feline. 

And something about the way you’re allowed to do as you please, whereas he’s not, strengthens that state of mind, enriches it, thoroughly worsens it. 

You want him. 

It began with a ring and ended right here. 

And the process of your decision starts at his hips, finalizes at the pebbles of his nipples and finishes completely at the sides of his neck. He gives you the same, if not better, reaction, his manhood moving against you, and it’s settled. 

The giving of virginity to seal the deal, not just a kiss. 

Hovering your lips against his, you slip your hand to the place where you’re connected to feel up the shape of him. You moan onto him, vigorous power seizing you, propelling you to wrap your fingers around him. The breaths Jungkook emits are desperate, tortured, wafting over you, intoxicating you. It fills you with confidence unlike any other that you’re able to coax such a thing of beauty out of him—that you, the artist, have the upper hand momentarily while he doesn’t. 

And he waits, depends on you. You want to cry due to how happy it makes you, due to the way it suffuses an empty part of you, left abandoned by someone who should’ve taken care of it a long, long time ago. 

Because of that—if it’s kisses that he wants, you’ll give him as many as his body desires as a thank you. 

“You’re so hard against me,” you whisper. 

Jungkook grips your waist hard. 

“If you want it, you have to seal the deal,” he mimics your intonation, voice deep, tingling your tummy. 

“I want it.” You clutch both of your hands on his jawline, thumbs finding the invisible dimples. 

“Kiss me, then.” 

You whimper at the longing to do so. Your tummy clenches, butterflies inside swarm around and—

When you close your lips against his top lip, they burst into smithereens. Jungkook sighs in relief, enveloping you in his warmth. 

The kiss is hungry. You expected his first taste of you to be careful, contemplative, but he goes all in. Takes charge of the lip lock, swallowing you whole, moving against you, uttering low sounds that make your head spin and you just comply. Accept that you’re the one who submits to his craving and you find yourself liking it; find yourself wanting to deepen your submission. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, your head tilted as you reciprocate all of those hard kisses. When he comes up for air, he just gazes down at you, out of breath. One hand still on your back, the other cradles your cheek. There’s something puzzling in his eyes, as if he was fighting something within. You’re radiated by that energy, heavied down by it, letting him pet you like a puppy while you wait for the next step. 

“You’re so good that I’m considering letting you take Bam out,” he breathes, curling a wisp of your hair behind your ear. “Sweet little thing.” 

He pecks you once. You grind against his manhood and as he shortly groans onto your mouth, you splutter into giggles. Behind you, as if he heard him, the dog peeks his head out of the door, giving his Daddy a questioning look. Jungkook chuckles. 

“Bam, house.” 

The dog leaves and Jungkook sinks his fingers into your hair, sighing. Kisses you, again without tongue—only does what you’ve allowed him, but you overflow with the desire for more. He’s so considerate, so respectful and while you’re grateful for it, you want to break it. Your trust in him, made whole by all that he’s done for you, settled within you, made a bed in the sensitive parts of you that now shine. He doesn’t need to remain there—you want to go beyond that. 

“Touch me, please.” You look up into his eyes as you say it, willing them to see with all your energy how much you want him. 

He rubs soothing circles on your back. “If I touch you, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.” 

You lift your butt ever so slightly and bounce down on him, your skirt furling. Jungkook moans, pleasing you to the core. It’s bratty of you, but it serves him right for being so stubborn, so firm in his control. You want to break him. 

“Can’t you see how much I want that?” you purr, bunching the cotton of his T-shirt in your fists. 

He merely shakes his head, licking his lower lip, fucking with you. He tugs on one of your braided pigtail, the other hand gliding to your hipbone. “This little girl is horny? I couldn’t tell.” 

A yellow light, sleepy in nature, spills through the blinds, latching onto the side of your neck. His eyes flick to it and his teeth sink into the wetness of his lip. He looks back at you when he says, “what was it that made you horny? The neck kisses?” 

He straps both of his hands to your hipbones now, adjusting you so your sweetest spot rests against his cock, rocking your hips like he wants them to. He swallows down his noises, makes room for yours. You figure he wants to hear them. 

You think about what made you horny. His respectful behavior. An electric spark spasms in your core at the memory and you roll your body against his at the impact—nipples pebbled, grazing below the hardness of his pecks. You moan loudly. He breathes heavily, can’t for the life of him contain that, gripping you with strength that will surely leave bruises. You add it to the list. 

His control—the momentary, delicious lack of it, too. The dominance that follows it. His noises and how unrestrained he is when it comes to them. The allure and the attractive charm of his looks, blended with that insufferable cutesiness. His hard cock. The neck kisses, too, of course. 

You summarize your answer and you tell him, “you.” 

A hitch in his throat. “Fuck.” 

Fuck, indeed. Fuck the steady rhythm—Jungkook speeds up your movement, the pace so fast your pigtails and your ribbons bounce, tits following suit. Your breath falls in step, moans echo within the walls of his room. He kisses you harshly, but that doesn’t silence you. He swallows your noises down, grunting. 

“You wanna know what made me hard for you?” 

You nod your head, lips forming a natural pout at the loss of contact. 

“Those fucking pigtails of yours. The knee socks. How tiny you are in my hands. Seeing you lose your fucking mind when I kissed your neck. Those marks I left behind, hm, fuck yes. Those marks made me crazy,” he mutters, staring you down. “And you know what else?” 

You wait for his answer as white flashes blind you, your roaring orgasm beckoning you close. He doesn’t stop rocking you against him, not once. Fills your brain with emptiness with his words coated wet by his dominant energy. You feel your own wetness soaking the fabric of your panties. 

“Your brattiness,” he says. “I want to fuck it out of you and make a good girl out of you that won’t misbehave again with her smart words.” 

A faint part of you, half affected by the pleasure he gives you, arises to stand up for you. “But I was good and you said so.” 

He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. Slows down the pace so you’re able to hear him loud and clear, your orgasm backing away. “You see the thing is with little bratty girls like you, even when they act good for me, there’s still that dark little side of them that hides. Unless I fuck it out of them, they play with me. And trust me, I like the game until I don’t.” 

You frown at him, but a moan betrays you. A fight throngs inside of you, his dominance yet again permeating you, causing you to flourish, but on the other hand, you don’t like being added to the mix. You want to be the only one—and it makes you angry that he had someone like you before you, that he even said it altogether. Though unfortunately, that’s something you can only keep to yourself. 

The forming attachment breaks, splitting into two, with the knowledge that your wish is futile. You understand he said it for the sake of the role-play that you both naturally, wordlessly established through sexual attraction, but you still have a lot of getting used to within the dynamic. He’s experienced, you’re not. Though, when you think about it, he doesn’t know a thing about your purity. You never told him. 

You blame yourself for your own pain. It’s your fault—you should’ve had a conversation with him about it before you let him do anything to you, instead of playing flirty games with him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if he knew you were a virgin. The thought of what you’ve done stains you, makes you feel filthy, but you will it to kneel inside of you like a wounded animal. You need to be strong if you don’t want to storm out of his room in tears. 

No attachment, no liking. 

Just sex. 

There’s still a frown to your face, despite the fact you set yourself free with your decision. Jungkook chuckles at it, oblivious to your internal storm. 

“You didn’t like that, did you?” You didn’t like being compared to other girls he’d been with; there’s nothing to be said of the like about the role-play aspect. Being called bratty did rouse a moan out of you. “You prove my words right.” 

You roll your eyes. Jungkook grips your ass hard and spanks you. As the sting reverberates, along with it comes the realization you got what you wanted. 

You broke him. 

And now you have to face the repercussions. 

Good thing you’ve sobered up from the stupefaction of your arousal. 

You cradle his face and kiss him deeply in effort to change the narrative. No feeling of affection from earlier hangs upon your heart and you find that it’s easier like this. No strings, no pain. It relieves you—so much that you sense a layer of lightness to your body and tiny, manageable tears well in your eyes. You get to enjoy this after all. 

There’s radiance to your eyes, rooted in hope, and true softness to your words when you say, “I want you to fuck it out of me. I want you to be my first.” 

You want to be different—your pride is uninfluenced by your decision. If he fucks it out of you, the new narrative you’re longing for will fully take place and make living through this bearable. You know you can’t have him the way you’d like, but if fate wrote that you’re to have him this way—you don’t mind altering it to the little desires you’re allowing yourself to have. 

Once in a lifetime opportunity. You can’t lose it. 

Jungkook is left astounded by your words, eyes widening, shock evident on his features. Like your words, he softens, unclenching his fingers from your suppleness, the darkness in his irises making a way for gentleness to come through. He rubs the small of your back, hands ascending to your spine, feeling the clip of your bra, until he finds the nape of your neck. He holds you there, tenderly, as if you were a porcelain doll he now was careful not to break. 

The change in his demeanor is stark. It surprises you as well—and like everything that has happened within the hour, it isn’t something you expected from him. The emotion that emerges from the roundness of his eyes touches the hardness of your decision, tries to get through, pokes a gap inside, letting the light in. 

He tucks his darkness back inside. Strokes the back of your head, the silky ends of your ribbons sifting through his slender fingers. You relax against him and your body does it for you. It welcomes his tenderness, glad for the truth to be out. You fight against it—against yourself, willing your decision not to break but remain firm. 

No strings, no pain.

But to no avail. The light spreads. His light. Celestial twinkles of stars, small parts of him that make him who he is. 

“You’ve never had anyone before me?” he husks, regret glossing over his eyes, holding your head firmly as he awaits your answer. More stars spill like liquid. 

You shake your head ‘no’, your chest tightening. 

He kisses you and there’s something different about the way he does it. Now you can sense the carefulness you searched for earlier and you taste the primal core of loving care in the movement of his lips. The kisses are long, deep. As if you’re a different person now, a girl unlike any of the ones he mentioned. Someone who matters, someone who’s solid. You’re back at the beginning. 

A lump forms in your throat. 

“You sure about this?” he asks. 

One part of you, greater and illuminated by his stars, wants it gently like this, with flowers of innocence and purity besprinkled across his features, never leaving you out of his sight, taking care of you. But you fear that if you allow him to be tender, your heart will choose him again and cling to his side. The other, more faint part of you, affected by your decision, thinks it’s better to stick to the role-play, for there’s the aspect of illusoriness that will not bruise anyone’s hearts, especially not yours. It will make you horny, Jungkook will get you off and, glowing, you’ll go home.

You can’t decide. It’s too much of a heavy weight to bear on your shoulders. You can’t do it.

You need him to say the word. You need him to decide what will be the face of the trajectory of your premium friendship. 

Flowery or deceitful? 

A small candlelight in you hopes for gentleness and purity before your fear unfairly puffs it out. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.” 

Jungkook lays you down and, at last, you feel his manhood against you. He bends to pepper apologetic kisses along the column of your neck and you feel the authenticity of his regret, thrumming against you warmly. Your breath hitches in your throat, the principle of the candlelight in you not being a high hope after all—

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about this better.” A kiss to your cheek; you stifle your sobs. “I should’ve checked in with you, but I jumped straight in. This was a mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”

He blames himself, not you. 

You want to remain stoic, but his authenticity beckons yours to come out and envelop him whole, gives access to your emotions and you can’t stop the miniature teardrop from flowing down the side of your nose. Neither can you stop the words that follow its footsteps. 

“I should’ve told you first,” you whisper, sniffling. Jungkook furrows his brows at the expression of your pain in tender emotion, wiping it away. “But I was bad—reckless.” 

He chuckles softly, caressing your hair. “You’re an angel. Sent to my side for me. You weren’t bad. I didn’t mean what I'd said.” 

His words, his touch, the kiss he adds to your cheek to punctuate his sentence—Jungkook erases everything that has just happened. 

Newness rushes in your chest, the pouring of spring into summer permeates your whole being. You hear the birds sing, the rustle of flimsy flower petals on tree branches as the warm wind grazes it with its touch. Jungkook seals this feeling by pressing a kiss to your sternum. 

He said it, so it must be so. You trust him. 

The firmness of the cage around your decision unlatches. Doesn’t fly away like the birds. Is a little bit afraid of peeking out. The candlelight returns to light up the room around that cage, blossoming into the sun. 

“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” he says, looking up at you from the place where he dragged your top down to kiss your skin. 

The sun rays in you absorb all of the darkness. The firmness extends one wing. 

You run your fingers through his hair. Figure the only thing the summer in you is missing is the heat. You want him, you want sex and you don’t want to think about feelings or consequences. You don’t want to choose between anything anymore. You just want to enjoy yourself. 

“I meant it when I said that I want you to be my first,” you say, fingers curling around his ear. Jungkook leans into your touch and it’s as if he’s massaging the wing to alleviate it from a cramp due to being tucked in for so long. 

“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands and pinning them on the pillow and bunny above your head. He sits up, examines you and you wonder if he can see how truly fragile you feel. “Do you trust me?” 

He’s had half a year of going out with you, mingling his life with yours, spending money on you and treating you like an absolute treasure to build your overall trust. And what he did just now? How he erased your pain? Your nod is immediate; you don’t need to think twice. 

“Of course I trust you.” 

“Good.” A soft smile. “I’ll make sure your first time will be beautiful for you.” 

Your heart thuds. His words steal all the breath in your lungs, smoothing out the surface of your body for his stars to fill. Tears prick at your waterline. 

“Are you scared?” 

You’re an empty canvas. 

“Not anymore.” 

Jungkook nods, gladness pulsating off of him. “I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave you, not even once, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He finds the zipper on the side of your skirt and yanks it down. “How many times do you wanna come?” 

The ridiculousness of the question makes you laugh and you hide your face beneath your palms. “To be honest, I don’t expect to come at all. It is my first time after all.” 

You marvel at the honesty seeping out of you. His work, no doubt. 

Jungkook frowns, ridding you of the skirt, fingers hooking under the hem of your top. At the reveal of your pink, flowery, see-through bra, he stops altogether, stunned. He fondles the material, grazing over your soft nipples, at last reaching the embroidery of the small petals. He gasps in wonder, eyes flicking to your intimate parts to see if you’re wearing a matching set. 

The same flowers adorn the suppleness of your tummy. 

Jungkook smiles at his discovery. Is hasty as he drags the nylon of your tights down your legs, along with your knee socks. 

“I’ll decide how many times you come for me, then.” 

Heat pools in your femininity. There it is, the dominance that you love. Yet this time, it’s laced with his gentleness. Heaven on earth—a meadow full of flowers in the middle of summer. Like the ones on your lingerie. 

Joy grasps your heart. “Do I get to know before you start?” 

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss on your tummy. “What, you wanna count them down for me?” 

You asked just because, but the idea excites you. You nod. 

Your response prolongs the rumble of his laughter and you feel its vibration as he kisses his way up to your clothed breasts. You’d think he’d focus his attention on them, but he straightens—reaches for something behind him and retrieves your white knee socks. He bunches them in his hands and puts them on you as if he were dressing a child. 

Paradoxically, goosebumps spread all over your thighs. 

Smoothing the material over your thighs, he lies back down against you, lips latching on the spillage of your breasts that your bra gives him. While it feels dizzying, you still want to know the number. You poke him in the bulging muscle of his arm and in the process, you flush his cheeks red. 

Jungkook pushes your tits together and licks over the line in the middle. The sight of the shine of his wet tongue against it drenches your pussy, ruining your pretty underwear, and you want him there, on your sweetest spot. Your nipples stand to attention and Jungkook listens to their call, thumbs brushing across them. 

You mewl, grinding your hips against his stomach. 

“Two times when I eat you out; two times around my cock,” he answers finally, awakening your butterflies. “How many times is that, then?” 

Amidst the pleasure, you do the math. “Four.” 

“That’s right. You think you can do that for me?” 

You’re not sure. In fact, you’re not sure of anything—lost in his touch, in his energy. 

“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully, skimming his face for a sliver of disappointment in his features. 

You find none. Only tenderness—round, soft eyes, brown in the light he radiates, nose and mouth buried in your tits, sucking on the skin, making you feel good. 

“That’s okay. We’ll try together. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t come as many times. Or at all. I promise.” 

Your chest clenches. You grab his face and kiss him, licking over his bottom lip before you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook grunts, rolls his own muscle over yours, tasting you, feeling you. He inhales sharply against you, once again taking charge of the kiss, taking each and every thought and negative feeling you had and crushing it to smithereens. 

He lifts you and switches places with you, sitting you down on his lap with your back supported by his chest. He roams his hands all over you—tits, tummy, hips, sides and thighs while he busies his mouth on your shoulder. As your eyes follow each movement, you notice the marks he embellished your breasts with and your arousal grows—so much that you take his wandering hands and hook them under the waistband of your underwear, guiding them down your thighs. 

There’s a change to his breath when his index and middle finger feels up the fleshiness of your cunt for the first time. Hard, raggedy and absolutely tormented. He glides those digits up and down your dewiness, listening for the squelching sound that makes his cock twitch beneath you. 

He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear.  “How do you touch yourself?” 

A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat. 

Jungkook sees you. 

“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer. 

“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.

“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” 

Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re not really sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind. 

When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—

“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax. 

“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side. 

He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise. 

And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.

He stills the buck of your hips. 

You widen your eyes at the new feeling of fullness and, panicking and constricting around him, you look at Jungkook, who merely strengthens his hold around you. 

“Trust me,” he says, breathing heavily. He doesn’t move his fingers past his first knuckles; he lets you adjust to the size. Gives you a kiss full of tongue to distract you. “Does it burn?”

You begin to pant against his mouth, the high of your orgasm long gone. You’re uncertain to count it as one when it was so short lived, ruined by the sudden plunge of his digits. But much to your surprise, you don’t detect any burn in your walls that he speaks of, which you realize was his intention.

“No, it just feels a bit uncomfortable.” 

He kisses you again. You feel your lips go numb, eyes lidding at the pressure you feel as he sinks his fingers a little bit deeper and begins to move them sluggishly, your slick creating another ring for him around his fingers. You try to meet his thrusts as the visceral sensation of being filled by longer, thicker fingers settles within you and takes roots. You discover that movement is the key to parting the uncomfortable feeling and it steps to the side to let the pleasure walk forward.  

Jungkook presses his palm flat against your clit, guides the pleasure to envelop your body when he plunges his fingers deeper, past the second knuckles and fucks you in swift jerks. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan and he fills in the sound, expressing his fiery delight for you at the clench of your walls against him, accommodating for him, for his desire to stretch you out, so when he finally enters you, no pain comes to greet you. 

Deeper and harder—yes, that’s what feels good. You roll your body, becoming waves of the sea as wetness and the build up of pleasure—seafoam—is all your senses wrap around. 

“Feels good, baby?” 

His need to check in with you speeds up the nearing expansion of your orgasm. Pointer and pinky finger digging into the skin of your backside, you watch the in and out motion, the digits coming out wetter and wetter each time.

“Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.” 

It’s quicker. Way quicker than your first tiny orgasm. He slips in and out of you so smoothly—you’re obsessed with the sight, ravaged by it entirely. You grind your hips and fuck yourself back, picking up the pace but slowing down instantly when you feel yourself at the peak of your climax.

You want to prolong it. You love the feeling too much to end it too soon.

Jungkook stops your movements fully.

“I want to be the one who makes you come,” he murmurs. “I want to be the one who fucks your brain out. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Fuck, I want it so bad.” 

His hand drifts to your neck just to hold you there, the other, the busy one, fingers you harder, your fast approaching orgasm blinding your senses. Your drenched cunt squelches around him, the sound so lewd it causes you to seek comfort—your hand flies to his on your throat, fingers wrapping around his wrist, the tip of your pointer reaching the fat bulb of bunny’s head on his ring. 

Harder and faster. A scalding fire burns you and you just take it. Loll your head back against his shoulder, giving him the space to grip your jawline. Flames grow closer and closer, leaving a layer of sheen on your body in its wake. You feel the sudden need to pee.

“Oh my god, Gguk—” Your muscles tense. Close, so close. “Gguk, Gguk—”

“What, baby? What’s the matter?” he husks, squeezing your neck once. “You’re gonna come for me? Gonna come on my fingers?” 

You nod quickly, too quickly. Flames of the sun, licking you. Flames of the summer heat. Just what you wanted. 

Jungkook opens your jaw, swirling his tongue around yours. “Let go. Come for me. You can do it, I got you—I got you. Come for me, baby, please.”

Obeying his desperate order, you do.

A small stream of your pleasure, a faint fountain, trickles out of you and into his hand. He gasps, in unison with your whimpers, and you’re transmitted elsewhere. The wildly colorful, blooming meadow on a hill, overlooking the languorous sea and he’s there. Reaches behind himself. Offers you his hand. The wind ruffles his black hair, sweeps it back and you’re giddy—as giddy as Bam, as giddy as you were in the moment the slid the white bunny ring on your finger—to take the last two of his slender fingers, the pinky and the ring, and sit with him by the edge of the cliff. 

“Did so well for me.” 

The whisper takes you back and you awake. 

You’re different. Incandescent. Of life, of stars and its light, of growing fondness for the man you sit perched on the lap of, whose fingers still remain sheathed inside of you. He changed you. Perpetually, absolutely. He changed you and made you into something new. Something that is softer, more elegant—smaller but assertive. Alluring and kind. Indisputably good. 

He fucked everything negative out of you with his fingers. Left the vast canvas of stars inside of you.

You’re no longer a plain spread of cotton, but a living, breathing artwork. His artwork.

Once he fucks you with his cock, you wonder what further internal changes are going to occur within you.

You feel a great deal of gratitude for him—and you want to reciprocate all that he’s done for you. You want to work hard at it. Spoil him. Make him whimper. You believe he deserves it.   

“You finger yourself often? How come you took my fingers so well, hm?” 

You’re panting, unable to speak. Absorbing the sharpness of the stars, acclimatizing to the change. 

“I guess you do, huh?” he deduces. “Good little girl, preparing herself for me.” 

For the life of you, you can’t catch your breath.

Jungkook kisses your cheek deeply. Pecks you on the same spot a hundred times, slowly taking out his fingers. Lets you see your slick coating his fingers and, softly, you gasp at the little ripples of wrinkles upon the tips of his fingers, mouth parting.

And then he sinks them into your mouth. 

His hardness twitches behind you and you moan, your daintily bittersweet taste making your head spin. And when you look at him, you’re met with the utmost pink-dusted adoration painted on his face. You kiss it, inhaling it, letting it flow into your system so it suffuses your bloodstream, letting him taste you. You may not feel your lips, but the sentient poetry of the stars begins to sing in you. His stars. You feel like a flushed floweret visited by a bee. Spent, but happy. 

Happy to be wanted.

Good, because he said you were.

As if internally intertwined with him, you feel the identical heat tinge your cheeks. 

He says nothing as he lays you down and spreads your legs back to the way they were. Though when he’s graced with the sight of your bare cunt in all her glory, his face says everything that his mouth isn’t capable of. Hunger and torture—lips agape, corners of the mouth shiny with the rush of drool and Jungkook wipes it away, then lowers his fingers to your clit, to your lips, becoming more acquainted with this intimate part of you that no one had seen before him. He traces your small hole, even going as far as to your other, tinier hole and you yelp, stopping his exploration. 

Jungkook merely chuckles, eyes darting to yours. “You’re so pretty.” You grow so hot that you think you must be on fire. “Especially there.” 

You mewl, shrinking, hands looking for anything to hold and finding his bunny plushie. You take her into your arms, inhaling a scent that could never be hers. You recognize immediately whose it is. 

Musk, vanilla, wood. 

The thought of Jungkook cradling her while he sleeps moves you and you pout. 

“How we feeling?” he asks, still caressing your fleshy cunt, dripping with dew. 

Overjoyed. Overstimulated.

Heavenly.

“Good.” 

A foxy smile. “How many orgasms was that, hm?” 

You don’t know where your shyness comes from and why it chokes all of the words you want to say. You bury your face in bunny for a moment, taking a breath to fight against it, so you can please him because that’s all you yearn to do. 

You open your mouth, but no words come out. 

Jungkook stifles a laugh and it makes you feel terrible. And it’s worse when he leans over to kiss you, turns his head at the last moment and faces bunny.

“Bunny, how many times did she come?” he asks her, offering her his ear to hear her answer. Looks at you. Widens his eyes. Gasps. “Two,” he mouths. Listens some more. Nods. “I know she thought she wouldn’t come at all. Crazy, right?” Then he lets out an endearing sound. “She said she’d believed you could do it the moment you said it. She’s so happy for you. How cute,” he coos. 

You giggle, the bridge in your throat loosening, light flooding you, over and over, until you think you can’t take any more of it. You feel so full, so happy and the sensation threatens to pour out of your tear ducts. 

It heals something within you—that he treats you like this at your most vulnerable state. Your inner child flares, the stars the strength that fixes her stoop, helping her arise, stand straight, stand powerfully. 

He smiles down fondly at you. “So what number are we at?” 

You hide your face behind your hands. “Two.” 

“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.” 

You drop your hands and with as much energy as you can muster, you repeat the number. 

He purrs, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” As a reward, as if the praise wasn’t enough, he kisses you deeply. “Will you let me taste you?” 

You swallow his desire, but speak up your own, “I want to taste you first, please.” 

Jungkook hums, curses under his breath. He straightens and kneels before your form, fingers pinching the back of his T-shirt and pulling it over his body. You catch the sight of his broad shoulders, of each dip and muscle, and your irises grown in width. Him ridding himself of his clothes dishevels his hair and as he untangles his arms from the material, he smiles down at you, noticing your stare. 

He caresses the back of your thigh before his hand flies to his hard length. He palms himself once, then continues to undress—tugs his sweatpants down to his knees, though he doesn’t bother himself to fully take them off. The shape of him is more prominent through the fabric of his white Calvins, the bulge of his mushroom wet and pellucid, and you sit up, hand itching to touch him, to join his in making him feel good, but he cups your chin—forcing you to look up at him. 

He swipes his thumb over your lips. “You want it?” 

You nod. “So bad.” 

Jungkook curses again, the sound low and rough. 

“Touch it,” he orders and both of your hands listen, wrapping around his girth, squeezing beneath the head of his cock. The thickness of him makes you see the light of the stars that you sense fluttering feverishly inside of you. Your mind is too empty, too washed out by your orgasm, by the change that you don’t even think about how you’re going to take him. Jungkook hisses, tilting his head back before he looks down at you intently. “You did this before?” 

You’ve never seen one in real life before, let alone touched one.

“I’ve never let anyone get this close.” 

Jungkook strokes your pigtails. “How come you know what to do then?” 

Instinct or memory from porn you watched—you don’t know, it all blends together within the fuzziness of your mind. And you tell him.

“I watch a lot of porn.” 

Jungkook smiles coyly and it strikes you. You’ve never seen him smile this way before or, even, feel this way before. All you know from him is dominance, dominance and dominance. 

You release him from the confines of his boxers and repress your gasp. His ever glistening tip reaches just below his navel and the thickness of his girth obscures most of his pubic hair. Along with the sound of your surprise, you also have a hard time swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth. 

“I want you so bad,” you whisper, needy eyes looking up at him. Shy, too shy to let your gaze linger at the most intimate part of him. 

He sucks in a breath at your words, hissing. And you need him inside of you all over again. 

Fuck fuzzines in your mind. You’re fuzzy all over. Wrecked with nerves, suddenly. Your hands tremble, hovering in front of his manhood. Jungkook covers them with his, soothing you, and guides you to his shaft. Wraps your fingers around him. Doesn’t let go. 

The feel of him under his supervision is slow. He allows you to take in every ridge of him, every vein—the softness of his skin, the warmth and the weight. Round after round, up and down, until you get familiarized with him. A trickle of his male essence drips down the side of him and your tongue instinctively darts out. Like your hands, Jungkook’s breath shakes and he anticipates your next move, despite the fact he’s in charge. 

He’s been patient all this time, giving you the time you needed. But that hardly applies when you have him in your hands, when you own his neediness. His whimpers while he waits coax your slick out of you, soaking the bedding beneath you and you can’t take it anymore. 

Neither, evidently, can he. 

“Baby, please,” Jungkook croaks out. Tortured, so terribly tortured. Grip tight and clammy around your hands. 

So vulnerable. 

You ache. 

You lick up a stripe of his essence on the side of his cock and Jungkook shudders. Shifting onto your knees, you show him the milkie on the tip of your tongue and Jungkook pulls your hair, tilting your head back. Kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Moans, lowly. Then, he holds his girth at the base and pushes your head. 

When you take him, a mewl ripples around the thickness of him. His eyes roll back and his grasp of your hair tightens, burning your scalp, adding to the fire. He lets you feel it out; lets you figure out what to do, testing your knowledge from the porn you’ve watched. And the tensing of his stomach divulges his strained effort not to fuck your mouth. 

You go slow about it. Swirling your tongue around that rosy head of his, along that delicious ridge, licking a flat stripe across that line of his slit. Getting to know him in all those intimate places, relying on your senses—on them to tell you what he likes. Your hand begins to move on its own, gliding back and forth in tandem with your tongue stimulating his sensitivity. You try not to think about how you can barely fit him in your mouth, because if you do—you’ll ruin his bedsheets. 

But then Jungkook hums in approval, sending a gush of wetness out of you and you whimper—you whimper at the worsening ache you feel, at the helplessness that pools in your system by being just so filthily wet and horny. 

He moves your hand faster. Breath jagged, bedroom eyes zeroing down on you. And then—

Jungkook moans your name. Over and over, clenching and unclenching his hand on the back of your head. 

“Don’t have to teach you shit,” he spits. “You just watch porn all day, don’t you? Naughty girl.” 

Losing control for a split second, he rams his cock into your throat—and you don’t panic, you don’t yelp. Instead, you groan. 

He pulls you away from him with a sharp tug. Kisses you harshly. Shoves you down into the pillows with one push on your sternum.

Bending you in half, he drinks your cunt. Lips immediately suck on your needy bundle of nerves and it’s so fast you don’t even know which part of you he’s focusing on because he’s everywhere. Clit, hole, clit, hole—sucking, licking. Alternating, alternating so swiftly and deliciously that you completely lose your mind. 

And then he lifts your hips and holds them in the air, wanting you to see what he’s doing to you. Like you, he darts out his tongue and teases you, hovering the muscle above your clit. Shiny, nimble, capable of doing unspeakable things to you. He watches as your pussy drools for him and he chuckles darkly. Tongue lowering to collect it, but unlike you he never does it. He lets the dew trickle down your skin. 

“Cute little pussy. So wet. Wetter than when I fucked it. You liked playing with me on your knees, didn’t you?” 

With your fucked out brain, you don’t think it’s taunting what he’s doing. You deem it’s just him reveling in what he’s able to do to your body—in the fact that he owns it, that he teaches it new things. The glint in his dusky, lustful eyes proves it. 

Jungkook drags a long stripe on your clit, making your eyes flutter closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip to cage in your moans. 

“Talk to me.” 

You can’t. You don’t know how to talk. 

He stares you down. 

No answer from you. Just hard pants. Pussy drooling. 

“I won’t play with you, then.” 

Panic. “No.” 

He cocks a brow at you. “No?” 

Silence. 

He begins to lower you down but you grip his forearm. 

“Jungkook.” 

Bent over above you, head low, he merely flicks his eyes to yours. Duskiness, such blackening duskiness in those orbs. 

“Beg.” 

All your muscles tense. Wetness gushes out of you. 

Lucky for you, that word he wants is the one you haven’t forgotten. 

“Please.” 

“Please what?” 

You groan in frustration. 

“Be nice or—”

“Please, lick me.” 

That dark chuckle. You feel yourself becoming obsessed with it. 

“Where?” 

A challenge. Your throat dries up. 

“There.” 

He shakes his head disapprovingly, making a sound that expresses just how much he didn’t like that. 

“Try again. Last chance, little girl.” 

The loving smile on his face says everything about how that threat is feigned. You hear it tell you—you have as many chances as you need. He’s merely encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone. 

And something about that mellow, hidden kindness gently ushers you to do just that. 

“Lick my clit, please.” 

A hum. A long stripe on that sensitive, thumping spot. A roll of his tongue forward and backward.  

“Like this?” 

You choke out a moan. 

“Yes, please.” 

“Or—” He blows on you, causing you to tremble. “Like this?”

He shakes his head against you briskly, not yet at a full tilt. Just like his, your body shudders in his hands and he tightens his grip on your supple hips. You can’t take it, the pleasure is overwhelming and—

“Look at me,” he orders and you open your eyes, immediately. “Like this?” 

Jungkook adds more pressure and rapidness to the movement, leaving you glazed sweetly in the sheen of his saliva. He moves your hips up and down on the firmness of his tongue and you scream, taking a strong hold of his hair.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck, Daddy—”

Shocked, Jungkook groans against your pussy, slowing down to ingest what your mouth has just uttered. It’s more than natural to call him by a title like this, instinctual, innate. It fits him so well and it drenches your pussy, your slick amalgamating with his liquid love. You’re certain he feels the rush.

Your Daddy. 

You roll your hips against his tongue. Dark and more dark, those eyes of his. Bottomless pit.

“Fuck yes, call me Daddy again.” 

The whimpers you let out are pathetic and Jungkook shudders at them, groaning. You whine the title over and over again, a verdant, dreamlike litany of your feminine sexuality pampered, cared for, supervised. Jungkook accepts the gravity of it all, each declaration propelling him to suck your clit harder, bruises forming on your hips from his deathly grip, black eyes never leaving yours, hypnotizing you. 

And when you come like this, it’s unification what happens. 

You’re bound to him and he’s bound to you. 

Daddy and little girl. 

Throughout your sexual experience today, you had a hard time accepting things but this—this is something that slept inside of you all your life and just now has been awoken to a flickering canvas of bright stars. You feel it blink, adjust to the piercing light, before it smiles dolefully—happy to be conscious, happy to be caressed.

Jungkook kisses you and takes his time. The taste of your femininity, the fresh coldness of your change, the strong wine of his desire. You’re drunk. You’re slurring your mewls. 

And one thing about unification, it’s a mirror. 

You swallow down the same mewls, uttered by his throat. 

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you,” he whispers, adjusting between your legs. “Will be gentle. You’re safe with me.” 

He rakes the tip of his length along the entirety of your little sea-kissed seashell. 

“You want it? You want Daddy’s cock inside of you?” 

Jungkook looks into your eyes deeply as he asks you that question, the tip ready at your significantly smaller hole. He peppers kisses along your jawline and chin. 

“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” you murmur, brows furrowed. 

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth. 

“We’ll chase the pain away,” he promises.

Your frown deepens. 

“But what if it doesn’t fit?” 

You expect him to chuckle, but he does no such thing. He absorbs your worry by kissing you tenderly. Then he glances at your body. Remembers he never took off your bra and fixes his mistake. 

“You may be small, but you were made to take me,” he says and your heart skips a beat; you wonder if he understands the gravity of his words as they take roots within you, rising to bloom into splendid flowers. “Besides, my dick is tiny. You won’t even feel it.” 

It is so far from the truth that you burst into giggles. He laughs along with you—a mirror reflected. 

Stars and flowers. Sea and freshness. You were made to take him. You trust him. 

He kisses your breasts, licking over your nipple—but briefly. Holding his shaft, he asks if you’re ready. You nod, your fingers desperately searching for his and Jungkook notices. Sinking slowly inside of you, he grabs his bunny plushie and tucks her into the crook of your elbow. 

There’s a pinch of pain, blended with the feeling of discomfort as your walls stretch around his head. 

Seeing it painted on your face, Jungkook draws close, enveloping you and bunny in his heat. Pushes a little more in. You wail softly, the pain intensifying. Fear intermingles with your features and Jungkook—the worry in his countenance makes you almost weep.

“Hold onto me,” he says, brows scrunched, so—so serious. “Relax, baby. I got you.”

You hook your arms around his neck, bunny sandwiched between your chest and his. Jungkook saves this time to let you adjust around him. 

“I know it hurts,” he whispers onto your mouth, index finger, the ringed one, stretching to graze your cheek. “Just relax your muscles for me. It’ll feel good soon.” 

You nod, trusting him. 

He pecks you. Smiles. 

“How many orgasms are we at?” 

You roll your eyes, your own smile threatening your lips. “Three.”

Jungkook hums. Pecks you again. You feel your walls loosening, little by little.

A smug smirk. “You didn’t expect that, did you?” 

“You obliterated my expectations.” 

“Just wait until I fuck you properly.” 

You blush, eyes twinkling. 

“Pretty girl.” He kisses you and you feel your attachment forming again, though this time—newly. As light, as free as an entanglement of seaweed upon seashore, you and him. Connected. Bound. No fear, not even a hint of it. “I heard you watch porn.” 

Your flush deepens. Jungkook sinks a little deeper. A faint pain—nothing bad. 

“Who told you?” You laugh, the sound ridding you of your shyness. 

But Jungkook grows solemn.

“Tell me what kind you watch,” he whispers, angling his head to give you a tiny kiss. 

Your cheeks hurt from the smiling, from the onrush of emotions within you, sloshing to and fro. You feel hot all over.

“The one where all the focus is on the girl,” you whisper back. “The guy uses all kinds of toys on her and she just takes it. Comes so many times and there’s a countdown for it.”

Humming, he begins to nibble on the skin beneath your jaw, making your breath shallow. He pushes in another inch—and the pain is worse. You tighten your grip around him.

“And how many times do you come when you watch it?” Deep, deep is his voice, the calmness to your nerves due to the pricking you feel. 

“I don’t stop coming.” 

Jungkook swears under his breath and clenches his digits into a fist beside your head.

“And you finger yourself?” 

You nod, confidently. Another inch. He smiles at your confirmation of his deduction.

“How many fingers?” 

You scoff. “Just one.” 

“Well done,” he praises, kissing you once, keeping his mouth on you even as he asks, “ready?” 

You nod, again, even though there’s fright to your eyes. He sees it and he brushes his eyelashes against your eyelids while he kisses you, taking it all away. And he doesn’t stop, even as he pulls out and thrusts back into your heat. Gently, so awfully gently. 

He didn’t break his promise. 

Jungkook rocks his hips in slow, sensual, prolonged staccatos, moaning into your parted mouth. You’re so focused on him—on the bulging of his muscles on the either side of your head, the broadness of his shoulders, the slick sweat dripping down his neck, right from the top of his tattoo; on the sheerness of his pleasure as he moves in and out, carefully so as to not frighten you, that the pain quickly subsides. 

And there you feel it. 

The sensation unlike any other. 

He rams into you, seeing the wrinkle between your brows smoothing, the lust clouding your eyes as the delight spreads all over your body, bringing along little dots of goosebumps. The night sea, windless, still hot from the afternoon’s goodbye kiss. You feel it—and you feel it deeply, sinking inside of you with every inch of his manhood. So much that you meet his thrusts. 

“That’s it, baby. Fuck yes,” Jungkook murmurs, enraging the waves within. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being fucked?” 

Stars and its light. He picks up the pace, hooking your leg over his shoulder, entering you deeper and deeper, giving you more than half. The thrill of feeling so full—you curse, you moan, you can’t hold it in, even if you tried. And Jungkook coos at your conveyance of the pleasure he’s giving you, never lifting his eyes off of yours, off of your features, your emotions. Surveying you, controlling you, making sure you’re okay—more than okay.

You sense the pressure coil deep within your core, the sense of your climax approaching and you’re astonished at how quick it is. You halt your own movements, needing—wanting him to be the one to get you there, the one who owns your orgasms. 

“Gguk, Gguk, fuck—”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.” 

He fucks you harder, making you cry out. Deep, deep staccatos, so different from the slow, languid ones. You can’t catch your breath, the sea within you sloshes violently and then—

Softly, you sprinkle him with your fountain of pleasure. Not enough to drive him out, but sweetly enough to force him to groan against you and pound you harder into the mattress. Continuing as if you hadn’t come. 

You don’t have the time or the space to think about what just happened—he fucks each and every thought of you. 

“My little squirter,” Jungkook mutters, kissing you. “One more, baby. One more for me and I’ll paint you with my cummie. Hm, you want that?” You’re gone, flung out of this world into a tranquil island. The palm trees, the sea and his cock. Your emotions are numb, body limp. All you feel is his cock, ramming and ramming into you. “Or you wanna swallow it for me like a good girl?” 

“Swallow, please,” you croak out and Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Rewards you by giving you the full thing, filling you balls-deep. 

“You feel me?” He kisses you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. 

Glorious, glorious delight. You can’t breathe. Too much. 

“I feel you—” You lift your head to look down where you’re connected. “I—I feel you in my stomach.” 

Sitting back, he lifts your hips and palms the bulge just a little bit above your mound. Feels it move under him once he resumes fucking you. He replaces his hand with yours, keeping you distracted as he undoes the ribbon in your hair and ties your wrists with it. Right there above the bulge, where he fucks you. Then he latches onto your hips and jackhammers his cock into you, watching as your tits along with bunny bounce with each slam. 

“You look so pretty like this, tied up for me, taking all that I’m giving you,” he says, thumbing your clit, making you cry out. “Such a good fucking girl for me. I’m bringing you up so well.” 

“Daddy,” you call out and Jungkook nods.

“Yes, that’s right. Daddy is fucking you so good.” 

White flashes. Seafoam. The pressure in your tummy deepening and deepening. The roar of the night sea and your body following—you come all over him, painting him iridescent with your dewiness. His joggers, dragged halfway down his thighs, his boxers are all ruined—pelvis, thighs and cock glistening. It’s such a beautiful image to you that it suffuses you with energy and you begin to speak. 

“Please, come for me.” 

Surprised, Jungkook chuckles. “Don’t you have orgasms to count down?” 

The ever persistent need for control. You kiss him, slip your tongue into his mouth to shut him up and you struggle against your ribbon, for the feeling of kissing him without your hands makes you feel iffy.

“Five. I came five times for you just like you wanted,” you whisper. “You fucked me so good. I’ll never forget it.” 

And it’s the truth.

Jungkook pecks you once deeply, humming into the kiss. He pulls out of you and whilst he strokes his cock, his fingers tug down the ribbon around your wrists. You take your place on your knees, gazing with awe and hunger at his shiny length. And as if he needed it, he plunges his fingers into your mouth for more lubrication. Then, grabbing your jawline gently, he pulls you in towards his cock, letting your lips play with his tip the way you like it as he jerks himself off. You flick your tongue under the ridge of his head and his length twitches, stunning you. You do it again, more rapidly, and you don’t stop until Jungkook begins to tremble. Pulling him inside your mouth, then out, flicking faster and faster. Repeat. 

Jungkook grunts. 

“Yes, like that, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna come for you.” 

He announces it, but it still comes as a surprise when the first rope of hot cum spills onto your flushed cheek. You suck him harder for a moment before you stick out your tongue, eyes flick up, as he empties his balls for you, his hand never ceasing the swift tug on his length. 

And he just keeps coming. Rope after rope. Liquid star after star.

And you swallow it all. 

Spent, sweaty and breathless, he helps you swallow it. Dragging his fingers to the places your tongue can’t reach, he feeds you his cum and you suck on his digits. Your heart thuds in your ribcage, especially when he begins to play with your tongue, smiling down at you in that dopey way. 

He pats you on the cheek once you show him you’ve swallowed it all. 

“Good girl. Good little princess.” 

That you are. A changed person for all eternity.

“Is your tummy full?” 

You nod, beaming vehemently up at him, the aftertaste of the bitterness of his liquid stars still wafting through your senses.

The three forbidden words rise in your tongue, even though you don’t believe them—you think it’s just the opulence of new emotions and experience that forces those words on your tongue. But they remain adamant when he bathes you clean, when he brushes your hair and gives you his clothes to wear to bed. They provoke you right there on the tip of your tongue when he gives you his zipper hoodie to wear on his balcony once you tell him you need a smoke and he joins you, giving you his pack of cigarettes. 

And they come off the edge, in a different form, when you tell him of how he changed you while you hold his hand and he caresses your damp strands with a cigarette propped between his index and middle fingers, kissing your cheek. The smoke fixes a makeshift halo around both of your heads. One body, one halo. Bound.

“You’re such a lovable person, Gguk.”

What you don’t know is that those mere words changed the entire trajectory of his life. Yours, too.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two, part three

[macherkissed]

Wild Nights-Yautja OC (Tua'chin) x Reader

18+

Summary: After two weeks off ship, hunting, your mate is back and wants to show you how much he's missed you

Word Count: 3,426

Notes/Warnings: AFAB!Reader, Smut, Exophilia, Dom/Sub, Orgasm Denial, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected sex (wrap it up, even if your lover is from a warrior alien species), cockwarming. Pyode means 'soft'

Soft, low, barely audible clicks sounded from behind you, a familiar sound that made your shoulders straighten and your body tense. You didn't turn at that point, though you could feel the looming presence staring at your back. Instead you kept your attention on the little sucker in your arms. The cooing alien child tried to click and growl out a word as you put them down to bed, but their mandibles weren't quite developed enough yet and, when they tried to speak, all that came out was a high-pitched 'ooo'. Most of the youngest suckers called you 'ooo', finding it too hard to say 'oo-man' just yet, and a lot of the older children kept up the nickname as children did.

You were one of only two humans on the ship, the other also being a yautja's mate, and you'd happily volunteered to help at the nursery. It was nice to take care of the future killers, nice to spend time with the other grown Yautja who helped out, and gave you something to do when your mate, T'uachin, was off-ship, hunting as he had been the past two weeks.

He was back now.

You turned and were met instantly with the familiar pattern of mesh-like alien metal that decorated your mate's chest. Ever the perfect hunter, he had managed to sneak up on you even after warning you he was there. “Hey.” You smiled as you looked up at him, practically vibrating in excitement “How was the hunt?” “I missed you, pyode.” He croaked. He’d picked the words up as he did all other, through replication, but you had taken the time to teach him the meanings as he had with you and his language. “I missed you too.” You checked that nobody else was around -the other carers were looking after suckers elsewhere, and the children that were around were asleep or play-hunting- before you wrapped your arms around his neck and lifted yourself up to press a kiss to his rough cheek. He hummed happily and turned his head just a little to tease his mandibles across your neck and make you giggle “T'ua, stop. It tickles.” His low clicking laughter only made his mandibles tickle your neck more, and he had to tighten his hold on you when you tried to wriggle away playfully.

His hands on you shifted and he pulled you almost totally flush against him. His next exhale was a purr as his large hand fell to your ass. Oh, he really missed you “Bedroom?” He asked and you nodded once. He lifted you up with ease and carried you through the ship to your bedroom with little fanfare. On your way, you passed a few of your clan who cheered and clicked after you and T'uachin, saying things you barely understood other than 'oomani' and several variations of 'pauk'. You felt T'ua straighten a little in pride, but the attention made a sickly feeling coil in your gut and you turned your head further into his neck as though that would hide you enough. The laughter from your clan only grew but T'ua took mercy on you by hurrying past them and into your room, softly clicking by your ear.

He didn't even bother turning on the light, preferring to carry you straight to the bed and lie you down. There was only a slight bit of light coming through the window from the distant stars, so all you could see of him was the intimidating silhouette, towering over you from the end of the bed. This was the last thing some creatures would ever see, if they were lucky, and the knowledge that he chose to please you rather than hunt you made a chill run down your spine. You sat up on your elbows after a few seconds of nothing. Just as you were about to speak, T'uachin snarled out “Strip.” And how could you refuse?

First you cast off your shirt and under-shirt, throwing them aside like they burned, before wrestling your bottoms off and similarly casting them away. You weren't sure if he could really see you. After a second of silence, however, you heard a slow rumbling. You almost mistook it for the constant white-noise of the ship, until a small snarl punctuated it and T'ua spoke up again “Beautiful.” He snarled before the lustful purring started up again. Soft thuds sounded as he stripped off his armour, again only barely seen to you in silhouette, and he stalked over to you.

His shadowed form climbed onto the bed, crawled over slowly to you as you playfully shuffled further back before his hand shot out to grip your ankle “No running, pyode.” You nodded and looked up at him with wide eyes, just as he got close enough for you to make out his face. One claw came up to stroke your cheek and under your chin to tip your head up more “Speak,” “Sei-i, N'yaka-de.”

While you had a rudimentary knowledge of the Yautja language, you had quickly learned what words had an effect on your mate. You knew that, post-hunt especially, T'ua wanted your submission, wanted to be your N'yaka-de, your master. Another purr rumbled through him and his mandibles clicked against each other.

“Good pet.” The claw at your chin stroked over your neck and slowly down your chest. His strong hand cupped a breast, claws threatening your soft skin, and he chuckled at the soft tremble he felt from you; not one of fear but of excitement and anticipation. The tip of his clawed finger circled your nipple slowly until it hardened so he cast the flat of his finger across the peak “My Pet.” You nodded instantly, though it wasn’t a question and never would be. His attention turned to your other breast to repeat the action with quiet self-satisfied clicks.

Meanwhile, your eyes were stuck on what you could see of his face. The twitches of his mandibles, the way his sole illuminated eye seemed to shine in the limited starlight, how his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, the little you could see of the texture of his skin -both the natural texture of his species and the scars that occasionally broke the pattern. You wanted so badly to touch him but you hadn’t yet been told that you could. All you could do was indulge his own touch as it trailed even further down across your stomach. His head dipped and his mandibles skittered across your shoulders and your chest in as much of a kiss as he could manage. He looked back up to you as his hand turned, palm up, so he could stroke a thick finger across your already desperate lower lips. When his finger caught your clit, you whined and your head fell back while your hips raised to meet the feeling. A couple of clicks came from your lover as he repeated the action slowly and carefully, each time revelling in your sighs of pleasure “T’ua.” You sighed “Please don’t tease me.” “Hush, pyode, let me.”

Torture. The only thing you could describe it as, as he played with your clit with one slick finger and his other hand explored the familiar plains of your body as you had both been missing for weeks by now. It was a slow gradual crawl, but you felt your orgasm building closer and closer. One finger to your clit became two, one on each side and rubbing with almost embarrassingly slick noises, pinching your aching pearl every so often to make your body twitch and Tua click in satisfaction. Eventually, he settled on his stomach between your legs in a way that made you wish not for the first time that he could use his mouth on you. He made up for it by watching in rapture as one of his fingers was pushed into your delicate heat. T’ua fucked you harshly on the digit until you dropped your hand down between your legs to grip at his thick locks “N’yaka-de. I’m going to cum.” Sadist he was, he pulled all contact back from you and held your legs open so he could watch your cunt flutter. “No. Not until I say.”

Only when your breathing slowed and you started to shuffle on the bed did he press his fingers into you again. Two this time, curling perfectly against the spongy spot deep inside and giving you nothing but mind-numbing pleasure as he pumped them in and out of your body. You didn’t bother holding back your moans and curses, knowing full well he’d want to hear every sound you could make and would only stop if you tried to suppress them. Each toe-curling shudder that ran through your body was met with a self satisfied chuckle. T’uachin seemed content to give you all you could take, resting his head on your thigh and nuzzling there with soft mumbles in broken English and low rumbling Yautja. Your hands were still at his braids and he was more than happy to keep them there, especially when your hold turned to absent tugging. You gripped harshly as you came to the edge a second time and tried to pull away. He growled in warning and held you still, so you had no choice but to try and stay your orgasm yourself, whining when his fingers again stroked over sensitive spots inside you. Your body tensed more the longer he made you fight it, until finally you whined “S...Stop, I’m gonna cum.”

He did stop but didn’t pull back. His fingers stayed stretching you open, keeping you full of him so you couldn’t fully climb down from your near peak. He liked to do that sometimes after sex, keep you sat snug on his cock as you both came down until you were both ready enough for the next round “Good pet. Telling Master, so behaved.” You preened and wiggled at the praise, a movement that only served to hit your spot again and send a jolt through you.

Again, he waited until you were more controlled before his hands moved again, though your mind was still foggy with the feeling of being so close to cumming. That happened a third time, the warning and cool down, and then a fourth that came sooner than the previous. That time, T’uachin pulled his fingers from you and slipped them past his mandibles and into his mouth with an animalistic snarl. His eyes were stuck on your hips, absently rolling in a way that only enticed him to rise up onto his knees and to crawl forwards so he was looming over you with his thighs against yours.

“Do you want me to fuck you, pyode?” His words brought you to life and you moaned at the mere idea. If he was fucking you, he was more likely to let you cum, and you needed to feel one with him again. It had been two weeks, but it had been too long. “Yes. Please, N’yaka-de, please fuck me. I missed you so much, I need it.” He purred as he cupped your cheek again and ‘kissed’ you with his twitching mandibles, making you giggle a little. It sounded delusional to your ears but T’ua didn’t seem to care. “Good pet.” He nuzzled at your temple as he brought your hips together. You felt the weight of his hard cock resting between your legs, and usually you’d look down and see the contrast of your skin and his, or how much he’d end up filling you, but you were lost in the stars and his heavy gaze already. One slow thrust of his strangely textured length was almost enough to make you cum, but you were actively holding back, so all it pulled from you was a whine and a full body shudder “Sweet, soft, oo-man.” He purred and took his cock in his clawed hand, stroking the tip over your entrance.

The comforting clicking soothed the feeling of the stretch as he pushed into you. Being apart for two weeks, you almost forgot how much he filled you, nobody else, no toy, had ever made you feel so complete as T’ua did. The slight ridges along his cock had you trembling and trying to ground yourself so you didn’t instantly cum from just him pushing into you. A low growl sounded from T’ua’s chest and he tipped his head to look at your flushed pleasured face “Beautiful.” You smiled and moaned softly “So strong, pyode. So pretty.” He slipped into Yautja, saying some things you barely understood, but the rhythmic cadence and tone of his voice soothed over your body and made you almost ignore the slow motions he made into you; pressing in about an inch at a time before pulling back a little.

The slow thrusts kept you just enough on the edge without tipping you over, leaving your entrance clenching around him for more. You felt like you were floating, unable to feel anything but your mate’s hands on you and his cock filling you up, not even able to feel the bed beneath you. Every nerve ending was on fire as T’uachin paused. He was almost totally sheathed in you and he just stopped. He straightened up more and rested his hand just below your navel, pressing down a little and making you whine at the added pressure. You knew he was just looking at the slight bulge he’d caused at your abdomen already. Slowly, he pulled out a few inches and, with another soft cooing purr, jerked his hips forward in one motion so they were flush against yours, filling you to the brim. Your only thought before all cognition was shot from your body was oh fuck.

Your back arched and your legs tensed as your orgasm took over you. Your toes curled and you tried to shift the immovable object of your mate so you could pull him closer and wrap yourself around him, needing to feel all of him. Supernovas were created in the space behind your eyes and fizzled away to turn into pleasured waves up and down your body. You could feel your inner walls pulsing to urge him to do more, to keep fucking you through it and make you whine. You couldn’t find the breath to even moan until your body relaxed totally and you stretched out on the bed.

You hardly let yourself feel the afterglow before a frown took over your flushed face and you reached for T’ua’s hand “’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I tried, N’yaka-de, I promise.” He clicked a couple of times, almost like he was tutting, and cupped your face in the hand you were still gripping the back of. “Greedy oo-man.” A claw came to your mouth, pressing against your bottom lip and making you instinctively part your lips “I said no, but you took it anyway. You don’t listen.” While you tried to mutter out apologies, pressing kisses to T’uachin’s finger, he rolled his hips slowly and growled lowly, slipping his finger into your mouth “Could you not resist, pyode?” “Mhmm.” You whimpered around his finger, suckling on instinct, and shook your head. “Did I make you feel too good?” You nodded and arched your back as another rock of his hips made your already sensitive cunt clench around him again “Needy little pet.”

Suddenly he shifted you around so that your ankles were over his shoulders, somehow settling himself more inside you. You barely had the chance to shift your weight comfortably before he started to insatiably thrust into you. Still sensitive, your jaw dropped instantly and your breath stuttered out of your chest like it was being punched out “Do you want more, pyode?” He snarled at you, like you had any chance of answering. It took everything for you to nod, to try and grip at your lover’s shoulders before deciding just to grab his thick wrists. All you could do in this position was grip onto him and try to clench your muscles around his length, urge him without words to spill into you.

His head tipped at he looked down at you, looked further to between your bodies, watching as you took him in so snug and wet, the impact of his hips hitting your ass jolting you up each time. It was everything you’d needed since the day he’d left. Well, almost.

“N’y...N’yaka...N’yaka-de.” You managed to gasp out “Come inside, please.” T’ua shook his head, his braids falling from behind his back to dangle in front of your face. “One more, Pyode. You wanted it so much you couldn’t wait, so you get one more.” “Can’t.” A growl vibrated through his whole body, and therefore through yours. “You can. N’yaka-de says you can.” One of his hands shifted from the bed beside you and he gripped your chin, slipping his thumb again into your mouth even as he carried on his assault on your fragile insides “Okay, greedy pet?” “Yes.” You whined, muffled around his claw so it came out as ‘yeth’, and nodded through the velvet haze. You dropped your hand from his wrist and put your fingers in a ‘V’ around your swollen clit, too sensitive to touch directly but you needed that extra push to the edge.

You worked your fingers as much as you could handle around your button while still being almost tortuously filled by T’uachin, his cock so perfectly textured and shaped to tease your inner pleasure spots like nothing else could. You thought it was silly to say that your lover’s cock could put all toys to shame when toys were literally designed to please you, but then you met T’ua and realised...a lot.

Soon he had your thighs shaking on his arms, right on the edge again but he’d already given you the permission to fall. And fall you did. With the hand not between your legs, you gripped at T’ua’s forearm as though he’d pull it away and leave your mouth empty, half tempted to clamp your teeth down on the root of his finger to make sure it stayed. This time, you knew that you were crossing the edge, and you whined a pathetic warning around T’ua’s finger “I know.” He purred in response but didn’t stop his motions, determined to fuck you through it “You can cum, cum for master.”

Again, your mind went blank but for the explosions of pleasure and the feeling of your mate around you, inside you, part of you, making each nerve ending in your whole body sing while also losing all feeling of the bed at your back. You weren’t sure what noise you made, if any. T’uachin didn’t stop fucking you through it, letting your orgasmic convulsions add more and more pleasure to himself. You were aware of him pressing fully against you, almost folding you in half, and grinding his cock into you. The chance had you come down from your mindless peak just enough that you felt it when he came, his cock twitching and spilling his cum into you as he groaned low and deep, his hips jerking a couple of times.

Slowly, he lowered your legs from his shoulders. They were a little sore and stiff but that was helped as he helped you bend and unbend them a couple of times, having to slip his finger from your mouth but not pulling out of you just yet. When you could rest your legs a bit more comfortably, T’ua bent over your body again and pressed his face against your neck as purrs started to vibrate from his chest. He nuzzled you there, his mandibles clicking brushing against your skin until you giggled, squirming against him. Large hands came to cup the back of your thighs and it seemed like the ship did a flip as you were lifted from the bed and turned so you were straddling your mate, pressed to his chest. “Pretty oo-man.” He cooed as your shock subsided and you rested properly against him. “My handsome Hunter.” Claws carefully trailed up and down your bare back, lulling you into a haze that you knew would turn to sleep if he didn’t stop soon.

After a few minutes of just breathing with him, touching him, listening to the blissful rumbles of him, you closed your eyes and sighed, slipping into a light sleep with T’uachin still nestled inside your warmth.

===================

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[acourtofmarvels]

Patience - Cassian

No OC this time, just your average Cassian x Reader (I used she/her pronouns but please use any you would like to.)

Summary: Y/N has been apart of the IC for 100 years after they saved her from a horrible incident that left her broken and traumatized. Cassian knew she was his mate from the second he saw her. Though he never could tell her, not after everything she endured.  They put her back together. She loved them and they loved her. Her family. Though, in the recent couple years she developed feelings a little stronger toward the male who she would soon find out to be her mate. 

Warnings: hints of abuse and assault. fluff

Word count: 3369

Cassian

"Why haven't you told her?" Rhysand asked me. I looked at him like he was crazy. He must be. Thinking I could ever tell her.

"How could I put that on her? After all she's been through. She's open to us now. She's stronger, braver. She's finally starting to learn to cope with her trauma. I don't want to scare her with something so... intimate."

I saved her. I have kept her safe. I helped her, trained her. Held her when she needed it, gave her space when she needed it. Those 50 years when Rhys was under the mountain she never left the House of Wind once. She didn't feel safe without her High Lord here. Even though Az and I were always with her.

"Cassian..." Rhys started.

"You kept it from Feyre, why? Cause you wanted to keep her safe, you didn't want to scare her. You wanted her to be ready for it. Thats exactly what I'm doing." He's being so hypocritical. How could he think I could just spring this on her?

"You've know for 100 years-"

"I knew the moment I saw her. She was covered in her own blood and vomit, bruised, broken and bare. You didn't see her, Rhys. You didn't feel-" I felt sick to my stomach just thinking about it. I was the one who covered her, brought her to Valaris to be healed and saved."What those monsters did to her..."

"They're dead now. They'll never hurt her again." Yeah. I killed them all. Made them suffer. Had them begging and pleading for their lives.

"She's still healing. I'd wait another 100 years if had to." 

Her POV

"We can go back if you want," Mor said quietly to me. We walked down the cobblestone sidewalk through the markets in the town square. Her arm linked in mine, her way of letting me know she wasn't leaving my side.

"No, I feel... good. It's a beautiful day. Everything feels like it's fitting into place. I've noticed these past few months that I finally feel like my old self again. But.. better."

It felt so good getting out of the house. Walking down the streets of my home. Home. I'd been here for a century. I've found my family here. People who love me, scars and all. And I love them. They're my rock. I wish I could say that I put myself back together after being broke for so long but it was them. They hold me together.

"Have you gotten all your gifts yet?" It was solstice this week. Everyone's favorite time of year.

"I have." I smiled at her. "And I'm not telling you what I got you." I knew by the tone in her question that's exactly what would lead next.

"Come on! Did you get it when we were together? I always take you shopping. How could you have possibly gotten my gift?"

"Cassian took me yesterday." I didn't like going out by myself. Too much anxiety. Mor or Feyre always go shopping with me in the markets. The boys take me other places, exploring Prythian if I please.

"Cassian never goes shopping with me! Gods, how did you convince him to do that?"

"I just asked him and he said yes." I shrugged. Cassian has always been sweet. He never tells me no. I feel guilty about it sometimes. I don't want to bother him.

"You have him wrapped around your finger, I swear." Mor groaned and I laughed.

"I do not." My face felt warm as a blush crept up upon my cheeks. Me blushing for a male? That hasn't happened since before... "Cassian just worries about me."

"Yeah worries a little too much." She rolled her eyes playfully. "You're staying at the town house with all of us this week right?" Rhys and Feyre mentioned they wanted everyone there this week. It was kind of tradition but this was the first solstice since the war and it just felt a little extra special.

"Of course. And I will also be drinking my weight in wine."

"Oh gods, a drunk you is never good." Mor and I both laughed loudly. I didn't drink much. Only with them. And usually on special occasions.

***

"Leave! You'll see us when we are ready!" Feyre yelled through the door. Rhysand wanted to see which dress she picked. He was being very persistent. It was so cute.

"Just a peak, my love," he said. I could practically hear the smile in his voice. I felt a weird pang in my chest. That was weird.

There was some more playful arguing between them before Feyre finally came back over to the vanity where I was sitting as Mor was doing my hair and makeup.

"He's acting like a child and I just took away his toy," Feyre mumbled, "Illyrian baby."

Mor was the first one of us who was ready. She was wearing a long black silk dress with her signature red lips. Feyre was wearing a dark blue sparkly dress. It took me a while to pick which dress to wear. Feyre insisted on the maroon one, while Mor wanted me to wear the emerald green. I am bad at making decisions so I let Elain pick and she favored the maroon one more like her sister. 

"Mother above we look hot," Mor whistled as the three of us stood in front of the giant mirror in Feyre and Rhys room. 

The door squeaked as it opened, Elain slipping through. "Stop being annoying, you swear you've never seen her dolled up before." She mumbled to whom I could only assume was Rhysand. She closed it behind her, pressing her back to it. Elain was in a pale pink dress. She favored the lighter colors. "The boys are getting rowdy and insist we go down to eat dinner."

"They're children, I swear." Feyre rolled her eyes but she was smiling, as was I. Feyre followed Elain out the door. I briefly heard Rhys say some curse words at the sight of his mate before Feyre shut the door behind her. 

Mor reached for the handle of the door but paused when she noticed I was hesitant to follow her. I could tell she was immediately worried for me. "What's wrong?" Was I really that transparent? 

I couldn't lie to her. She can always tell when I'm lying or hiding something. "I am nervous." I admitted, my hands gripped the fabric of my dress nervously. 

"Why? Has something happened?" I think I was the closet with Mor. She was there since the beginning. For the first few months after the incident I was to afraid to be around males. Mor never left my side. She didn't even know me yet she cared so much. 

"Nothing has happened. Just, something feels different." I could feel the aching in my chest. I had noticed it every time I was around Rhys and Feyre, I didn't understand. 

"A good different or a bad different?" She took ahold of my hand, a comforting gesture she did to know that she was there for me and she wasn't leaving. 

"I'm not sure. I think what I'm feeling is good but it hurts sometimes." She gave my hand a small squeeze. 

"Do you want to leave? I can winnow us out right now. No questions asked. You say the words and we're gone." I smiled at her. 

"No I don't want to leave. I just... I had that on my chest." I took a deep breath. She continued to rub her hand over mine. She always held my hand when I was anxious or feeling emotional. It was comforting, to know she was always by my side when I needed her. 

The door burst open, in came an angry looking Amren. Her hand was gripping the doorknob so hard I thought she might pull it off. "If you don't get downstairs in the next two seconds I'm killing them all." She glanced down at Mor holding my hand and Amren's face actually softened. It wasn't often I saw any other sign of emotion on her face that wasn't anger or annoyance. "What's going on? Are you alright, Y/N?"

I let out a small laugh. I love that they all worry for me. But it does get annoying the amount of times a day I hear Are you okay?  "I'm quite alright, thank you. Let's eat, I'm starving." 

Amren went first, Mor following and myself close behind. The biggest smile formed on my face the second I heard the low, loud, voices of the rest of my family downstairs. I don't even know what they were saying but Cassian's voice stood out to me. My heart sped up and I ignored it like I always did. It was a weird feeling I didn't understand. It always happened around him or even to the thought of him. 

"The night has barely begun and you're already giving me a headache," Amren grumbled as she hopped off the last step. The room grew quiet as Mor and I came into view. My eyes locked onto Cassian's first. There went that feeling again. He pushed his chair back, standing up straight. I noticed Rhysand and Azriel were standing up to. 

"Now don't stop the party on our account," Mor said. 

Rhysand was the first to speak out of the males. "You both look marvelous." He then looked at down at his mate who was sitting in the chair beside him. He must have said something to her for only her to hear because a slight blush freckled upon her cheeks. 

Azriel approached both of us, complimenting us. He hugged Mor, then looked at me for permission. I smiled at him and opened my arms to give him a hug. "Thank you, Az." The males were always hesitant to show any type of affection toward me. I understood why and I was grateful for it. 

As Azriel walked back over to where he was sitting previously at the dinner my eyes locked once more on the Illyrian general. 

"Y/N you look-" Cassian choked on his words. "I mean y-you both look, um, wow." He motioned to Mor and I. I'd never seen him so nervous. 

"Settle down Cass, you might just woo them away." Rhys said making Az laugh. Cassian's face turned red as he sat back down in his seat. Feyre swatted his arm and scolded him silently. 

The night continued on as we ate and drank. I sat at the end of the table with Elain on my right and Mor on my left. The smile on my face only grew bigger as the night went on. 

I kept the smile on my face as I glanced at Rhys and Feyre, who were talking quietly to each other, stealing kisses back and forth. I wanted that. That love that they share. That was the first time I was admitting it. I think I just realized why I felt that pang in my chest every time I looked at them together. That connection was what everyone craved. That unrelentless love. I didn't even know I was ready for that but I now realize that I do. 

I looked away from them. I couldn't watch anymore. I needed to focus on something else before they noticed my change in demeanor. 

I couldn't help but look at Cassian. He could always calm me down in the worst of times. It was like he knew I was watching him cause the second he looked at me every thing changed. It felt like the world stopped and something shifted. It started in my chest, a glowing warmth that began to sooth my aching heart, like a bandage to a wound. The warmth spread outwards, moving to my limbs and beyond my body, forming a bridge between us. 

The second that connection snapped I stood up abruptly, the chair beneath me almost falling back I pushed it back so quickly. The tears were already falling down my face. "You-" I couldn't even form a sentence. I had to cover my mouth with my hand to prevent myself from sobbing then and there. Cassian was standing too, worry all over his face. But he knew. I knew he knew. 

I couldn't breath. I knew people were calling my name. I knew Mor was by my side but everything felt numb. I needed to get out of here. 

I didn't look out as I ran out of the townhouse. Into the cold air, through the falling snow. He's my mate. Cassian is my mate.

"Gods, Y/N, you're gonna catch a cold out here." His voice alone soothed me. He appeared in front of me, wrapping a cloak around my shoulders to keep me warm. 

"How long?" I looked up at him, his face blurry through my tears. 

"Let's go back inside, I don't want you to get sick out here," he avoided the question, which only made me angry. 

"How long have you known, Cassian?" I raised my voice. I wiped my tears away so I could see him better. The sun was beginning to set but the faelights outside were shining on his face. 

"I knew the moment I saw you. It snapped immediately." He said quietly. He looked down at his feet, not daring to look at me. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" My voice was barely above a whisper. I was trying to hold it together now but my voice was failing me. 

"How could I?" Cassian looked up and it was then that I noticed the tears in his eyes also. "After what they did to you. After everything you've been through... I couldn't put that burden on you."

"A burden? You feel being my mate is a burden?" 

"No, never." He reached his hands out like he wanted to hold me, but he lowered them and took a step away from me. "I didn't want to scare you. I wanted the bond to click into place for you. I wanted you to be ready. But I will never force anything upon you. If you want to reject it, I will be okay." It was hard for him to say that. I know he didn't mean to but I could feel him send his sadness through the bond. 

I stepped directly up to him, he straighten up but didn't move away this time. He was watching me nervously. I wanted him to hold me. I needed him to make the first move. I don't want him to be scared either. 

Warmth spread through my body as he gently placed his hand on the side of my face. I let out a small cry as I placed my hand on top of his, wanting him closer. I looked up at him. "You do not scare me, Cassian. There is no one in this world that makes me feel safer than when I'm with you. And I am honored to be your mate." 

Cassian let out a cry of relief as he pulled me into his embrace. We both stood there in the snow, holding each other so tightly, crying with one another. After a few minutes he pulled away first, both his hands cupping the sides of my face now. His thumbs wiping away the few tears on my cheeks. "The honor is mine. And I will give you the everlasting love you deserve, for eternity."

"As will I," I reached up and wiped his tears also. "I will need your patience. I would like to go slow." 

Cassian's eyes went wide and he took a step back from me. "Of course." 

I laughed a little and grabbed his hand pulling him back to me. "This is just fine." He smiled and wrapped his arms around my waist. "And I would like you to kiss me." A blush formed on my cheeks as I said that. I hadn't kissed a male in over a century. 

"You sure?" He asked. I nodded slowly, he leaned in closer and when he was just mere inches away from my face I closed my eyes. Finally his lips found mine in an achingly slow, gentle kiss. He was holding me so softly, as if afraid he would hurt me. "You're it for me. I'm never letting you go." I leaned into his touch, wanting to be as close to him as possible. 

"Should we go back inside with the others?" I asked, nuzzling my face into his chest. 

"Yeah, we should." He replied but neither of us made an effort to move. "They're watching us from the window." 

I whipped my head around to look at the house behind me, multiple heads jumped away from the window. I laughed and shook my head. "They're always so nosey."

"Let's go. It's getting cold." Cassian and I held hands as we walked back inside. He took my cloak off for me and hung it up. Everyone was sitting at the table acting totally normal. 

I noticed Mor has taken my seat, pretending to be in a serious conversation with Elain. Rhys was trying to hide his smile behind his drink. Cassian pulled out the empty seat from beside him, allowing me to sit down before he took his seat. My face was red as a tomato but Cassian had a smug grin on his. They were all pretending like nothing happened, that this was all totally normal. 

"Did you guys know it started snowing outside again?" I spoke up finally, a smirk on my face.

 "What?" "No way." "I had no idea." They all said as a chorus. Then we all started laughing. Thank the mother for that. 

Cassian grabbed the edge of my seat and pulled me closer to him, wrapping an arm around the back of my chair. I grabbed his other hand and held it in my lap with both of mine. I need the connection.

"So did you all know?" I had to ask. I wasn't mad. I found it funny actually. 

"Know what?" Rhys asked, playing dumb. Then a devilish grin formed on his face. 

"I told Rhys the moment I knew, Az suspected the same day." Cassian told me. 

"I figured it out easily," Amren said, her arms crossed over her chest and a bored look on her face. "He stares at you constantly."

 "I do not!" Cassian said loudly and everyone laughed again.

"She does the same, don't worry." Mor smirked at me and my eyes went wide. 

"I do?!" I didn't even realize. My face was so red right now. 

"Oh, all the time," Feyre spoke up. Cassian squeezed my hand, begging me to look up at him. When I did his face was so full of happiness, my heart felt like it was melting. 

He leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Do I have permission to kiss your cheek?" I giggled, literally giggled. Who am I? Where did this side of me come from?

"You have my permission and may do so anytime you want," I whispered back. He kissed my cheek with glee. I was so happy. I loved the affection he was giving me. He was respecting my boundaries and accepting that I wanted to go slow. But I now understood that with me wanting to accept the bond he was gonna take any affection he could get from me. I wanted to give him everything but I need time. 

"I think we can all agree, Cass and Y/N, we are very happy for you both." Rhysand raised his glass to us. Everyone copied, raising their glasses as well. 

Acotar Masterlist

[crunchyorochiru]

In honor of the 11th anniversary of EAH, I thought of sharing a WIP from my current animation. However, I realized that I haven't posted it's older, original version from 2 years ago here on tumblr yet, which is weird considering how many times I've mentioned it in other posts, so it's here now!

In a way, the animation (old and current) is a reflection of how I've changed over the years. I made the first half (the part with simple eyes 😶) in my early highschool years, and I made the 2nd half (the part with regular eyes 👁👁) in the later highschool years. The artstyle wasn't consistent, but I enjoyed the process. From where this video ends, I was halfway done, and I probably could've finished if I kept up the pace. But that's not what happened.

I wasn't satisfied with how the vid was looking, especially because I wasn't doing proper lineart, but I didn't want to drop the project. Instead, I decided to work on Brooke's animation rig, which was meant to be in the EAH style, and I got the idea to make the whole project puppet-animated EAH style. My struggle with making Brooke should've been enough to warn me that was a poor idea, but I still spent a year trying to make that happen. I didn't get very far, and by the end of that year, I stopped working on the project.

Eventually, at the start of this year, I decided to pick it back up again with a new goal in mind. I wouldn't be lazy, but I'd also make sure to not spend too much effort to the point of burnout. I would animate using puppets, but it would be in my artstyle, not someone else's. I intend to get this done, and I can't wait to show you guys the final video! Also here's some bits of "development" (if you could call that) behind the animation.

This is my oc Allison in the 3 different versions of the EAH rig, each labeled accordingly.

This is the final base rig, which can turn a full 360 degrees and has decent expression capabilities. The only characters ever put onto this rig were Apple, Allison, and Brooke, because the amount of effort it took for each character's details was too much. Apple alone was a nightmare to rig because of all the layers in her hair, and expressions only worked from the front.

[fleeting-sanity]

Saxan in Coral Island.

Happy New Year to you. My lazy son as NPC and LI. I think this took about a month to make. 70% of that time is taken by the wedding outfit alone. Commentary on each outfits and his personality backstory under Read More if you're interested :)

Your local veterinarian. He was a bratty and wild child, something his parents tried to coach him out of. Instead, he developed into a lazy and apathetic young man, and eventually his parents learned to accept the person he is. However, he sensed that he's the black sheep or "failure" compared to his successful big twin sisters, irregardless of how baseless it is. Cares for animals, not so much for humans. His character arc can go two ways depending on what you chose during the dialogues. His birthday is on 28th Spring.

He's my Star Wars OC actually. He's a Zakuulan Prince, so I incorporated that aspect into his merfolk form. If you don't see him around town, he might be underwater!

His spring outfit is based on the doodle I have of him from an ask lol. I kinda like the color cyan on him!

I forgot that Scott has a similar hibiscus shirt so I figured it was too late to modify it... Oh well.

Not much to say other than I kinda have a hard time deciding what he should wear for autumn.

He looks super snug. I really gotta learn how to draw coats to make them convicingly thick idk. He lowkey dislikes winter.

I kinda debated on if I should put body hair on him but I decided not to seeing almost every male NPC has them. I think. Yes, it's the ace flag colors.

If you marry him he'll appear in Aesan Gede, the South Sumatran (Palembang) traditional wedding attire. I can't really have his hair free because it'll get stuck on all the golden bits but I kinda am not feeling the bun either so back ponytail it is. Debated whether I should draw the Sundanese one (am half-Sundanese) because it's easier but South Sumatra has been under-represented in Indonesian media so my Srivijayan pride kicked in. Also tumblr keeps killing the transparency for some reason >;[

Does he look Prince-ly enough here? He's based on the barracuda fish. Considered making him a naga like the rest of the in-game merfolk royal family but I've actually drawn him as a merman before so I want to keep him as a... fish. blublubblub.

I'm currently playing his twin sisters and I'm having a hard time choosing the LIs for them helpppp

And no, sadly I'm not a backer on Kickstarter (source: golongan miskin) this is just art.

[casullcasket]

Hellsing OC Masterpost

(Sorry if this post makes zero sense..)

The general premise:

It takes place post-time skip, there is some sort of international threat (still under development) that leads the Hellsing Organization to have to travel to America. However, the US government figures this out and says if they want to continue their investigation without legal persecution they have to work with their own vampire-fighting organization: Morris Co.

The characters of Morris Co are meant to be ‘mirrors’ of those in the Hellsing organization.

Morris Co:

(Since Quincey Morris was shown being dead at one point; I basically just added in ‘he left behind a son’ and made Quincey Morris a widower (which is why he proposed to Lucy))

Morris Co is a very similar organization to Hellsing, dealing with any supernatural threats that threaten the US. It was founded by Quincey Morris, and gained a reputation after he captured and sealed away ‘The Headless Horseman.’ After Quincey’s death assisting Abraham Van Hellsing in capturing Dracula, his son, James Morris, took over the company.

Inspired by the the Hellsing Organization’s idea of using Count Dracula (Alucard) as their own personal weapon, James decides to unseal the monster his father had captured for the same purpose. He coins the name ‘Bishop,’ which the horseman uses from then on.

The present-day head of Morris Co is Elizabeth Morris, the granddaughter of Quincey Morris. The organization works closely with the CIA, and receives large sums of money from the government.

Elizabeth Morris:

As stated before, Elizabeth Morris is the head of Morris Co as Quincey Morris’s ancestor. She uses a regenerator, as well as carries silver throwing knives and a gun with silver bullets on her person for protection.

Unlike Integra, she keeps a much more hospitable and ‘professional’ attitude, dealing with things with a calm demeanor. However, this nice demeanor is simply just courtesy. She cares very little about the civilians she is supposedly trying to protect, but rather cares most about “getting the job done.” She is willing to put her men and civilians lives in danger for the sake of protecting Morris Co’s reputation and continue receiving government funding.

To put in simple terms: Integra seems harsh, but she genuinely wants to protect humanity, and cares for those who work under her. Elizabeth, on the other hand, seems friendly and hospitable actually only cares for profit, and she sees the people who work under her as mere pawns to serve her interests.

Bishop:

Bishop is Morris Co’s ‘Trump Card,’ a willpower vampire that once roamed the west under the title of ‘The Headless Horseman.’ (More notes on how that works in the pic)

Bishop’s backstory follows a similar story to the story of the Headless Horseman, an American Revolutionary War soldier gets his head blown off by a canon in the battlefield. However, all the blood flows to him and he becomes a Willpower Vampire, and his head regenerates ‘wrong’ (like Seras’s arm). He spends many years wandering around the US as an undead legend before being defeated by Quincey Morris. He is sealed away in a locked coffin for many years before James Morris unsealed him. After his release, he takes a slightly different form to better ‘blend in’ with the humans he lives with.

He comes off as a “strong silent type” at a first glance, though over time it becomes more apparent he is under an unspoken ‘do not speak unless spoken too’ rule. This becomes confusing for him when members of Hellsing talk to him semi-casually, or when he sees Seras and Alucard talk to Integra casually.

When he does speak, he talks with a heavy southern accent, uses a lot of contractions/slangs, a kind of opposite way of Alucard’s sort of regal way of talking.

Also, unlike Alucard, he isn’t one to push buttons, and l will back down if Elizabeth (or later Integra) shows any sign of hostility or irritation because his relationship with humans is much more rocky. He will still keep his ‘tough guy’ front by acting like he doesn’t care. For example he’s likely to shrug something off and go “alrighty then” instead of argue his point.

Elizabeth and Bishop don’t have any sort of friendliness between them the way the members of Hellsing do, nor does Bishop really see any honor in what they do because he can see past her friendly front.

He is also much more likely to take bullets for/protect humans, because he sees it as his responsibility to do so. He sees humans in a similar way a farmer sees his livestock, a way that is still ‘below him’ but also has a bit of respect and care to it.

In the same allegory as Alucard = Guarddog, Bishop = sheepdog.

[redwinetalks]

I Won't Let You Sink

Chapter 3

(Previous Chapter)

Word Count: 5.2k

Pairing: Finnick X Fem!OC

Warnings: slight self harm, angst, fluff , protective Finnick, Finnick is a sap, panic attack, violence/gore, death, hurt/comfort, pre-canon, young Finnick and Silk, Silk AND Finnick pov

Summary: It's the next year of the Hunger Games. Silk is a mentor now and Finnick will not let her go through this alone!!

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

~ Silk ~

The old apartment mom and I lived in didn’t have many windows, but that hardly matters when you barely see the sun in the sky. If you live closer to factories, the smog is so thick that you never see the blue in the sky. Victor’s Village is at the edge of town so the air quality is better. There’s still smog, but I can see the sky. The sun doesn’t have to try as hard to come out. It shines in my face and wakes me almost instantly. I’m still getting used to the brightness and the warmth that it brings me, but it feels inviting. It feels familiar. My mouth twitches into a small smile whenever the sun wakes me up. Like a good friend has come to visit and take the darkness away. 

I feel the sun’s comfort even on the days I have to leave for the Capitol. It tells me that I’ll be back soon and I won’t lose that warmth. I will find it in Finnick O’dair. Maybe it’s because he himself is always so warm. His hands are warm when he places one on my cheek to ease my anxiety. His chest and his arms are warm when he pulls me into calming hug. His legs are warm when one brushes up again mine as we sit together. Every time I feel Finnick’s warmth I’m reminded of the sun. 

We’ve grown closer with each visit to the Capitol. We regularly find each other when one of us is needing a moment to breathe. I think we’ve developed a sense for when it happens. I think Finnick likes it when I look to him for a way out of a dull conversation. He always dramatically whisks me away, playing hero. 

Finnick is so much different than the persona he turns on for everyone else. He isn’t arrogant or self centered at all. The real Finnick always wants to focus on how I’m feeling instead of himself. He can get so worked up and always wants to help anyone in need. It took me a bit to grow fully comfortable with his care, to let him in. I’ve never had someone worry over me the way he does. 

However, Finnick never wants me to worry over him. He has this idea in his head that he’s supposed to be the caretaker. That his own troubles are irrelevant. It’s like pulling teeth, getting him to be truly vulnerable. I never push too hard as I don’t want to overstep, but I can tell he wants the comfort. It’s almost as if he feels like he doesn’t deserve it. I can only imagine all of the feelings he has shut inside. With each visit I try to open that door a bit more. 

I don’t dread my train ride to the Capitol in the same way I used to. I would panic and I could never sleep leading up to my visits. I still feel that gut wrenching anxiety, and I always will, but now I don’t have to go through it alone. I now can give myself assurance that there will be a shoulder I can lean on. There’s someone who can look at me and understand the pain that I feel. I don’t have to see myself in the mirror falling apart when someone will come help me pick up the pieces. 

This doesn’t mean that what happens at the Capitol is no longer traumatic. It is still very much so. I will never get used to the pain. The way these people look at me and don’t see a real person. They don’t see a human being that deserves life. They see someone who won their favorite show. A prize that they can play with. They can customize me in almost every way. They pick what I wear, what makeup is put on me, how my hair is done. They give me instructions on how to behave and how to give them their fantasy. They don’t see anything wrong with it and they never will. 

“Don’t get lost in there, sweetheart.” Finnick sits next to me on the couch in his room, twirling a piece of my hair. 

“How was your shower?” I turn to give him my attention. His blonde hair is still damp and a few wavy strands rest on his forehead. 

“Not scalding enough.” he jokes. “Did ya miss me? I’m sure those twenty minutes were quite boring.” 

“Nope.” I say, popping the “p”. “Barely even noticed.” 

“I’m hurt, sweetheart.” He puts his hand on his chest and gives me a sad, pouty expression. 

“So dramatic. One girl turns you down and suddenly your ego is shattered.” 

“Only when it’s you, beautiful.” He smirks at me and I can feel the warmth creeping up my face. Finnick is the only person who has ever given me this kind of warmth. It still surprises me every time, this feeling I’ve never felt before. 

“You’ll get over it.” I shrug him, and the feeling, off and then turn to look back at the night sky.  He laughs to himself and sighs. 

“Did you know I’d never seen the stars before coming to the Capitol?” I suddenly say. Finnick faces me with a look of shock. 

“What? How is that?” I smile, his surprised expression making me laugh softly. 

“I’ve seen them in pictures but, you know how I told you the water at the shore in 8 is polluted?” He nods, now giving me a more focused expression. “Well, the sky is too. The factories cause the air to be polluted as well. There’s this smog that makes the sky look all hazy. During the day I can barely tell that the sky is blue. And at night, I can’t see any stars at all. I didn’t know that they were this beautiful.” I’m still gazing at them. They’re so much brighter than I thought they’d be. Finnick turns to look at them as well.

“They are, but you’re far more beautiful.” He says this so genuinely. I look at him surprised, yet confused. I’m taken aback. It’s not like Finnick hasn’t given me a compliment before. He’s kind and charming. He knows how to make someone feel seen. But this feels different. His tone doesn’t sound flirtatious, like it usually does when he gives a compliment. It’s much sweeter, much softer. He doesn’t give me enough time to dwell on it before he continues speaking. “When I’m home in 4, I sit on the beach and watch the stars almost every night. It’s so peaceful, watching the sun go down and then seeing the moon glow so bright. The sky goes from light blue to a vibrant orange or a soothing purple. And then it turns this dark blue, almost black. The contrast of the night sky and the sparkling stars can be breathtaking. One day, when you visit me, we can stargaze together.” 

A pang of jealousy hits me. As much as I love my home, it hasn’t been able to give me these wondrous experiences. The labor that is forced upon us all in Panem affects how we get to experience life. And unfortunately, I didn’t get to grow up in district 4. I didn’t grow up in a district with clear skies. I grew up in a district where being outside for too long can make it difficult to breathe. Sometimes I feel like 8 gets punished the most because of our rebellious nature, but I know that every district struggles with their own hardships caused by the Capitol. It isn’t fair of me to compare us all. I know that I’m just feeling bitter, now more than ever. 

“I don’t think I can be too hopeful of that.” He frowns at me. I know that he’s trying to give me something positive to think about, but my mind won’t allow me to dream. “How could I dream of something so wonderful when I know it’ll never happen?” He takes my hand and squeezes tight. 

“Come with me.” He gets off the couch and leads me out of the bedroom and onto the balcony. I don’t question what he’s doing. As I get to know Finnick, I learn how he goes to any dramatic lengths to help me feel better. His heart is so big. The fact that he hasn’t lost who he is to the Capitol’s torture makes him one of the strongest people I know. 

He ushers me to sit on the ground next to him. When I do, he then lays on his back and I copy him. I look at his eyes. Even at night I swear that they sparkle. 

“Look up, pretty girl.” I smile softly at him and then do as he says. “If I can’t yet take you to gaze at the stars in 4, then I’ll take this for now.” He holds my hand and then the few tears that I have been holding in finally let go. The night sky is vast and breathtaking, just like he said. I’ve never just taken a second to look at it like this. 

“Thank you” I say in almost a whisper. 

“I will always do whatever I can to bring a smile to your face.” He says and twirls a strand of my hair again. I turn back to face him and I’m looking into those sea green eyes. I watch them as they study my face. We both stay like this for a while, still holding hands. I feel a tightness in my chest. It’s like a pull towards Finnick, but I choose to ignore it. I let the moment continue to be just this. Just us looking at each other and feeling like we are the only people in the world. I’ve never felt the way I do now, but I would like this feeling to stay forever. It feels so comforting. I feel safe here. In this little world that is just me and Finnick. 

In the middle of the mattress, Finnick’s hand still holds onto mine. This is the first time we’ve fallen asleep right next to each other. He usually sleeps on the floor, going against my protests. But tonight, we lay in the bed. The bed that I used to be so afraid of. It doesn’t feel as scary with Finnick here. He seems to make all of my troubles fade into the back of my mind. I could never thank him enough for keeping me from sinking into that dark abyss. The next time I see him I’ll be a mentor. We won’t be back at the Capitol for parties, we’ll be back for the 69th annual Hunger Games. It is utterly terrifying that I will be the one guiding tributes, but he’s told me how he won’t let me go through it alone. He will be beside me every second he can, and I hope that I can make the year less daunting for him as well. 

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

The day of the reaping is finally here. The leading up to it felt somehow fast and slow at the same time. Today I get to relive the trauma of being selected by seeing two kids walk to the stage with the same gut wrenching fear that I had. I am terrified for them and terrified that I will let them down. Even if I do my job to the best of my ability, only one will come home. I will still lose one of my own. I don’t know how I’ll be able to get off the train and face everyone when I return home. 

District 8 is the sixth largest district. I know mainly just the people who’ve worked in the factories near me or live close to my home. My old home. I’m familiar with some who I see frequently in the heart of the district. Where people sell food or an assortment of clothes and items at their separate stalls. That doesn’t matter so much, though. It’s not better for someone I know or don’t know to be picked. Either way a child is going to die and a family is going to suffer. I don’t know how Cecilia pushes through. Woof, the other victor in 8, isn’t all there. She’s basically on her own. His dementia has caused him to be less and less involved. A part of me is happy for him that he is losing his memories. Maybe he’s losing the worst ones and is actually living peacefully. That’s what I would like to believe. 

I wonder how Cecilia feels today. How did she feel when she was mentoring me? How did she feel when Pinn, my district partner, died? How does it feel doing this year after year, especially now that she has children of her own. One day her children will be old enough to be reaped. I can’t even imagine the fear of having to mentor your own child. The thoughts swirling around in my head make me dizzy. 

I wince when I realize I’ve been digging my nails into my palm. I haven’t done that in a while. Finnick stops me whenever he notices and the habit has slowly started to break. However, it seems like I’m picking it back up with the additional stress. 

“Honey, are you ready?” My mom peaks through my door and looks at me with a sad smile. She holds my sweater over her arm. It’s one that she knit for me during a sleepless night. When I was away for one of my trips to the Capitol. She still doesn’t know the whole reason that I have to go. She tries to get the answer out of me every few weeks, but I never let myself reveal the truth. It’s just meaningless parties that I have to attend as a victor. I know she doesn’t believe me, but for now that’s all I can give her. 

“Just about.” I sigh, looking at myself in the mirror. I use a scarf to keep the hair out of my face for today. The green details complement the dark purple color of my dress. I wanted to wear some of my favorite colors, thinking they’d somehow make me feel more positive. But nothing about today will be positive. 

“You’re going to get through this. You are stronger than they know. You’ll have Cecilia with you. And Finnick when you get to the Capitol.” I nod and mom pulls me in for a hug. She squeezes me tight and kisses my head. “I’ll be in the crowd, but I won’t get to say goodbye before you leave. You’ll be back home in a few weeks. No matter how bad it gets just remember that this time you’re coming home.” She holds my cheek in her hand and rubs her thumb back and forth. I look at her and keep nodding. I’m coming home this time. 

Standing beside Cecilia, I watch all the kids fall in line. It’s such a weird feeling, not being part of that line. Not being part of the rows and rows of young girls. I should feel some kind of relief. I no longer have to worry about my name being called, but I still feel that worry. It’s just different. It’s now about who will be called on for me to mentor. 

Cecilia must sense the anxiety radiating off of me because she starts to rub my back. I look to her and she gives me a kind smile. She doesn’t have to say anything to me. I know that she’s telling me I’ll be okay. I’ll get through it. After all these years, Cecilia is still standing. She has a loving husband and two beautiful children. Watching her gives me a sense of hope that I could have a happy future. It’s hard to see right now, but maybe one day I’ll eventually be okay. 

I shake myself from my thoughts and see they’ve chosen a female tribute. I don’t know her, but she looks to be about 12 years old. Her first year in the reaping and she’s been picked. She’s already crying and the escort, Veridie, is smiling as wide and brightly as possible. I clench my fists. The anger I feel growing inside of me is indescribable. 

She glides over to the other bowl to pick the male tribute name. I’m trying not to start hyperventilating. I need to look as calm as possible. I’ve done this before. I didn’t allow myself to react at my own reaping. Why is it so much harder now? Because these kids are going to be looking up to me to survive. The pressure is so heavy. It feels like I’m being pushed into the ground. 

My eyes focus on Veridie as she shouts the male tribute’s name and I realize I know this tribute. We went to school together and worked in the same factory. He’s the same age as me, 18. He was so close making it. So close to being free. 

The panic is rising in my chest. I can feel tears brimming in my eyes, but I quickly blink them away. I feel horrible. I can’t do this. How the fuck am I supposed to do this?

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

~ Finnick ~

The train ride to the Capitol was the same as it is every year. The air is tense as I explain the hell my tributes are about to go through. I teach them about getting sponsors and making allies while Mags tries to do some consoling. 

I wonder how Silk is doing right now. I wish I was with her right now. I wish I could try to ease her distress. I’m afraid she’ll be more closed off when I finally see her. She doesn’t want to look weak. She doesn’t want for people to be able to read her, but I know how strong she is. How she’s feeling right now doesn’t make her weak. She’s always able to hold herself together when she knows she’s being watched. That takes an enormous amount of strength. I don’t want her to feel like she has to be that strong around me. I don’t want her to close herself back up after I’ve finally helped her relax. 

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the last night I saw her. She looked so beautiful in the glow of the night sky. With her hand in mine, I felt an electricity shooting up my body. I never wanted to let her go. And when she looked at me. I could have kissed her right there. I wish I had swept her up in my arms, but I don’t know how she feels. I don’t want her to feel comfortable with me now and then ruin it all. Her hand in mine is enough. I never want to let her go. 

I still haven’t seen Silk after arriving at the Capitol. The opening ceremony will be happening soon and I’m hoping to catch her. I just need to see how she’s holding up. 

Mags keeps teasing me about how I’ve been so distracted. She continues to do so while I’m looking around the carriages. I spot Cecilia, but I’m struggling to find Silk. I stifle a laugh, thinking about how her short stature is probably the reason I don’t see her. 

I make my way to Cecilia. If I can’t find Silk I can at least ask about her. As I’m almost to the older mentor, I finally spot her. She looks even more beautiful than the last time I saw her. She’s talking to her female tribute. I see the kindness in her eyes as she tells the girl what to expect. Even though this child is a spectacle to the Capitol, Silk tries to make it sound more magical. She tells the girl how lovely she looks and that being on the carriage feels like gliding through the air. 

“Go show everyone out there how strong you are. I’ll be right here when you get back.” She rubs the girls arm and then guides her onto the carriage. When she turns back around she locks eyes with me. 

“Finnick” she says with a sweet smile. My heartbeat speeds up a little, her focus now being on me. 

“Hello, sweetheart. Want a sugar cube?” Her brow furrows and I let out a breath of a laugh. “They’re for the horses, but I think you deserve a treat just as sweet as you.” She rolls her eyes, as she usually does when I flirt with her, but then takes it. She pops it into her mouth and I can’t help but look at her lips. I bet they taste just as sweet as that sugar. I take a deep breath to try and keep my focus. A task that proves to be difficult whenever I’m around her. 

“Thank you.” She doesn’t say more than that. She has on a brave face, but I think that’s all she can give right now. 

“How are you holding up? It’s been a long day.”

“It’s been…okay” She says distantly. She’s looking just next to me, eyes lost in space. Her mind must be racing. 

“Anything going on in that beautiful head of yours that you’d want to talk about?” 

“Finnick…how do I do this?” Her eyes now stare directly into mine and I feel heavy. How do you prepare kids to go and fight to the death? There’s no real answer to that question, but she knows that. If there was an answer I would’ve told her immediately. So would Cecilia. What she’s really asking is how do you cope? How do you keep from breaking down every second? 

“You just…you have to push through this first year. It’ll still be hard next year and so on, but you learn the routine. You know what to expect and it makes it easier to process.” I rub her arm and she hums a response. I want to give her more comfort, but I don’t want to overwhelm her. We’re in too public of a space for me to fully embrace her. “You’ll be okay, though. I’m here if you need anything at all, sweet girl. I mean that.” Her lips twitch up into the softest smile. Her hand cups my cheek and I could almost melt into her touch. 

“I know, sweet Finnick.” 

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*

~ Silk ~

After the long days of training and interviews end, the watch party starts and I sit next to Cecilia. Her demeanor has gotten more tense throughout these past few days. I know she’s feeling drained and I wish I could be more help. She’s told me not to worry about it. She just wants me to try and get through this first year the best that I can. 

We’re in a room full of mentors from the other districts. Finnick is sitting with Mags. He’s tying and untying knots into some rope and I assume it’s to help with stress. I see Haymitch in the corner drowning himself in liquor and I wonder if I’ll have to drink like that to get through these trips in the future. I hope it doesn’t come to that, but I don’t think I’d be surprised if it does. It’ll just mean I have something in common with my father. 

The countdown is starting and I’m gripping the couch cushions. I don’t know what to expect. If I’m being honest with myself, my tributes don’t stand a good chance at winning. Both of their training scores were low. Not impressive enough to get any sponsors. It’s horrible, but I know that they’ll die. I just hope it’s quick and painless. That’s all you can really wish for. 

The games start and everything is moving so quickly. I can barely even keep track of where my tributes are. I hear the canon going off over and over. Cecilia gasps quietly and holds onto my hand. When I look to see what has happened, I feel like the air has been punched out of me. That little girl, my tribute, is dead on the ground with an axe in her head. Just a few feet away my other tribute is falling to the ground after being stabbed by a career. 

“Cecilia” I don’t know what to do. I feel like the room is spinning. “Um…I think I need to take a minute.” 

“There’s a bathroom just outside the door. Take however much time you need. I’ll go grab some water.” She rubs my arm and then helps me stand. I try to walk as calmly as I can out of the room. As soon as the doors close behind me I rush into the bathroom and start hyperventilating. There are no tears flowing, there’s only panic. Panic from me not doing enough to help them. Panic from having to watch their gruesome murders. Panic from failing them. Everything around me is spinning and I feel my stomach churning. 

“Silk? Can I come in?” That’s not Cecilia. I’m too upset to be able to focus. I don’t even answer. I just keep failing at trying to breathe. 

I whip my head at the door as it slightly opens. Finnick peaks in calmly and then shifts into extreme worry once he sees me. 

“Hey, hey it’s okay. You’re okay. Look at me.” He holds onto my arms and locks eyes with me. I shake my head at him. 

“They’re dead. They’re dead, Finnick. And I couldn’t help them.” He pulls me into a tight embrace. He has one hand on my head and the other rubbing my back. Even at the Capitol he still smells of salty air. 

“It’s not your fault, Silk. None of this is your fault.” I’m still shaking and my breathing is still rapid. I hear what he’s telling me but I can’t process it. The panic in my stomach is rising. 

“I’m gonna be sick.” I mumble and push him away. I rush over to the toilet and then I feel Finnick’s hands grab my hair out of my face. He sits next to me and continues to rub my back. “You don’t have to stay in here.” I say, breathily. 

“I’m not going anywhere, sweet girl.” I sigh deeply and then flush away the sickness. I still feel awful, but at least the anxiety attack has ceased. 

He hands me a glass of water and I gladly take it. I clean myself up at the sink and then slowly sip on the water. Finnick stays close by, hand still on my back. I feel calmer now that he is here. I feel the warmth that he brings with him. I lean my head against his chest and he kisses the top of my head. Somehow, even during this horrendous night, he still makes my heart swell. 

“Why don’t we go and look at the stars, huh?” He runs his hand through my hair and I nod, still leaning on him. He guides me out of the bathroom and upstairs to his room. 

Once inside, he grabs a blanket and wraps it around me. We walk out to the balcony and the warm air hits my face. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Finnick pulls me close to him and I feel myself letting go of some tension.

I wonder how I’d be doing right now if I never met Finnick. I wonder if my nights alone at the Capitol would start to drive me to insanity. There’s a part of me that is afraid of much he means to me. How it feels like I need him. I want to be strong enough to hold myself up, but that isn’t how people work. Pushing others away only makes things worse. I’ve always been afraid of letting people in. I usually keep to myself. The only person who truly knows me is my mother, but I think Finnick is starting to know me. Really know me. That fills me up with so much anxiety. But it’s not really the bad kind. It’s more of a feeling of want. I want Finnick to stay in my life for a long time. 

“I wish I lived amongst the stars.” I say while we both stare at the sky. “I want to be the moon and feel the sun shining on me, making the me glow.” He looks down at me while listening intently. I feel like Finnick is always shining. And his sunshine makes me glow. He casts away the darkness. “You’re the sun, Finnick. You are so bright and so beautiful.” I run my hand through his hair and then rest it on his cheek. He’s smiling and I rub my thumb over the dimple that appears. My eyes rest on his lips and I feel that pull that I felt last time we looked at the stars. This time though, I don’t want to keep the moment still. I don’t want to resist the pull. 

I raise myself up on my tiptoes and pull his face towards mine. I close my eyes and kiss him. I breathe in his sea salty lips that have a hint of sweetness from a sugar cube. One of his arms holds onto my back while the other tightly wraps around my torso, and there is nothing else in the world. It is just me and Finnick and the stars. 

Our kiss eventually breaks, but he doesn’t move his face away. His forehead stays resting on mine. 

“Silk…” he says breathlessly. His cheeks are flushed and his sea green eyes are locked onto mine. I wait for him to continue speaking, but he doesn’t. He pulls me in for another kiss. This time feels even more passionate. He holds me even tighter and my feet are just barely touching the ground. 

“For the past two years, I thought I’d never feel true happiness again. I was completely defeated.” He starts and I’m now back to standing fully on the ground. “Meeting you has felt like a dream. You bring me serenity amidst all the despair I have endured. Your glow, your incandescent light has guided me out of that pit I fell into. I can’t express how grateful I am to have you in my life.” He still has one hand around my torso, keeping me close, but now his other hand brushes through my hair and then rests just between my jaw and neck. He glides his thumb over my lips and then traces my cheek. I smile and then breathe out a light laugh. 

“Such a sweet talker.” He gives me the eye roll that I’m always giving him, but then he laughs and kisses my head. 

“I have to keep up the dramatics for you, pretty girl.” I hum happily in response. We stay like this for a minute, just holding each other. I think back to the reason we’re up here in the first place. My face falls and I squeeze Finnick a bit tighter. 

“Thank you for helping me get through all of this. Especially tonight.”

“I wasn’t going to break my promise to you. I am here for you and I always will be.” 

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

Thank you so much for reading! I had some rough writer's block for this one sooo hope its okayyyy. I hope you enjoyed :) As always I am open to kind feedback. Also let me know if you’d like to be tagged for the next chapter!! <3

Tag list <3

@yourmumstoyboy2-blog @ghoulbabs @lusy98 @marvelescvpe @simplymurdock @marcyss @miserablebl00d @wife-of-all-dilfs @mrsnancywheeler @princessofyourmom @babypaperwitch @stxr-slut

[giantchasm]

“What is it that the child has to teach? The child naively believes that everything should be fair and everyone should be honest, that only good should prevail, that everyone should have what they want and there should be no pain or sadness The child believes the world should be perfect and is outraged to discover it is not. And the child is right.”

WOO! After a little over a month and 60+ hours of drawing, it's finally finished. The Peony animatic I promised you has, at long last, arrived.

It took a lot of work, but I'm super happy with how it came out! And, tbh, I'm already planning more animatics I want to do in the future.

I think the majority of you are already acquainted with Peony, but just in case you aren't, here's a quick rundown of her story, or at least what's covered in the video:

Peony has always known her family experienced quite a bit of strife before her birth, but she doesn’t quite understand the full extent of it until getting caught up in a horrible accident. After nearly losing her life, the young magician develops an affinity for Soul magic— more specifically a connection with the spirit plane, and thanks to that, she’s able to meet two very special people. Her deceased granddad and her father’s long-gone ex-best friend are far from perfect people, but Peony quickly warms up to them anyways. She can see they were dealt an unfair hand in life, and that the tragedies they were involved with weren’t necessarily their fault. As she sees it, they deserve a second chance. So that’s exactly what she’s going to give them! Peony resolves to find a way to bring her dead loved ones back to life… developing her powers more and more along the way and providing her family some much needed closure. But is something like resurrection really possible? It seems Peony may be flying too close to the sun. A certain fluttering fiend is keeping an eye on her, telling her it won’t allow her to disrupt the natural order of things, and that one can’t undo what has already been done. But Peony? She doesn’t know how to listen. The young girl will stop at nothing until she saves her two guardian angels and sets her family right.

...She's a stubborn little goober, that's for sure.

I love her, though, I really do, and I hope you love her too. This video was a real passion project, and I'm super happy with how it came out. I'm glad I could get it finished just before the round 3 polls of the OC Tourney start.

Remember, everyone! Peony for president. Girl's already ready to throw hands with a god.

@kirbyoctournament

Some of my favorite frames will be under the cut with annotations/interesting details pointed out.

I really enjoyed the crayon drawing aspect of this video. The doodles were super fun to do and added a lot of character to it!

One may have noticed that the way Peony drew her mother's side of the family changed, though, as she told their story... and that's not just to represent them getting older! The way she drew their eyes and other stuff changed because during the later half she depicts them with their cybernetics, whereas during the beginning of their tale, she doesn't. Pretty cool stuff.

Technically, in Peony's story, she can't really touch/physically interact with the ghosts... at least not at the point in the timeline this part of the animatic takes place during. All the same, though, I decided to fudge it just a little for more interesting character interactions.

This frame depicts Peony's near death experience, LOL. Don't worry about it... she's fine in the end. In general, this segment of the animatic displays her story a little more chronologically, showing how she developed her powers, learned who the ghosts were, and got better and better at using aforementioned powers.

Shortly after Peony's near-death-experience, Morpho Knight tried to reap Sectonia and Haltmann for interfering with the living world and helping save her life. However, Peony, even not knowing who they were at the time, stood up for them- offering up her life, instead, and Morpho Knight, impressed by the display of bravery, allowed it to slide for now.

...Stars, it's going soft, isn't it? Stupid Kirby

Peony doing some detective work! I really like the framing of this drawing. Here you can see Taranza and Joronia when they were younger alongside Haltmann and Susie pre-cybernetics, like I mentioned earlier.

This bit is meant to be Peony finally confronting the ghosts (or- well, more specifically her granddad) about knowing who they are. She points out that she and him HAVE to be related. Look! They share the same hair fwoof!

There's a very distinct scene I have in my mind for the first time Peony is ever able to physically interact with the ghosts. She's making flower crowns and jokingly tries to put one on Sectonia's head, only for it to work. Needless to say, they're both shocked, then delighted.

These reunions make me feel things. Admittedly stuff is still a little complicated between Susie and her father, but ultimately she is glad to see him... and as for the spiders? I think they missed each other more than they could possibly put into words. They're so, so happy.

This is one of my favorite sets of frames. It took FOREVER to do all of the little doodles, but it turned out looking awesome, as did the ripping effect! See if you can spot all of the different family traumas she's depicted.

I like to think eventually Peony acquires some precious heirlooms. Sectonia hands down the matching scarf she had with Taranza but discarded when she went mad. Haltmann, meanwhile, no longer has his pocket watch, but when Peony tries to surprise him with a new one as a gift, only to realize he can't really hold onto it, he tells her to take care of it for him 'until he can.' This is something she does with pride.

Originally, I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do with these sets of frames. I mean... I knew I wanted to have Peony walking past her family thriving, but I didn't know how I wanted to orient the group. I figured they'd be best in sets of two, but wasn't sure how to sort them out.

If I were to draw her parents with their dead loved ones, I feared I'd sort of be insinuating their bond with each other wasn't as important now that they had those dead loved ones back, and that isn't true at all. But if I were to draw the living characters and dead characters together... well, that wouldn't really represent how Peony changed the family, now would it?

Ultimately, I decided to draw Susie hanging out with Sectonia and Taranza talking with Haltmann. I thought it'd be a nice way to represent the group as a whole have become a ragtag sort of family. Everyone loves everyone here.

This is one of my favorite frames. I simply think it's so cute. Peony is so, so beloved, and she loves her weird little family so much, too.

I adore these final three frames. Throughout the animatic, the crayon drawings are used to represent her family's tumultuous past, but finally, Peony depicts a more positive moment, quite literally slapping it over a sad one. It's a symbol of her determination to rewrite their— rewrite her— story, no matter what it takes.

Little does she know, even if she ultimately can't bring Sectonia and Haltmann back from the dead, she's already given both them and her parents a happier ending. They're all together, at least, and that's what matters most.

[kywaslost]

What’s up. I too have gotten hooked on Black Butler. After 3 years of not being in the fandom anymore. I have a fanfic idea for you.It’s a Ciel x reader so it’s going to be more on the angst side but still fluffy and funny if you look at it from an angle. It’s Ciel. C’mon.

So basically the reader is very similar to him. Being that she also has intense trauma and is extremely stoic and cold. On the other hand she’s also considered eerie and ominous looking. Soon Ciel after a while starts having feeling for the reader, he sees her as someone who understands him completely and fully. Ciel starts showing that he’s interested in being in a more intimate relationship with the reader other then just being partners. The reader of course rejects all these moves even though she also likes him, not only because he’s engaged but because she knows he’s a manipulator. After a long time of driving Sebastian insane with the pinning and rejecting, Lizzy finds out about Ciel’s feelings for the reader and confronts both of them. She’s lightly bitterly and is crying at first but she does want Ciel to be happy and is good friends with the reader (and she’s an Angel) so she doesn’t hold him back. Now the reader and Ciel are in a situation where they can show there feeling for each other freely but have no idea where to start.

Just so that you have a small reference to what I mean by a stoic and eerie looking reader I have a drawing of my Black Butler OC that you can take notes from (you don’t have to just here if you want lmfao)

Thank you, hopefully it’s not too long or complicated. You don’t have to write this if you don’t feel comfortable enough just tell me if you’re not going to write it or not. Have a good day!

Troubled Love - Ciel Phantomhive

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long! This is a long one that I wanted to take time on and work on when I felt like I could write this to the best of my ability. First of all, your drawing is ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS!!! I’m literally in love with it! I hope this turned out ok! I also completely skipped over the part where the reader is an angel and didn’t see it until I finished this, so I hope it’s ok that I left that bit out. Let me know if you’d like me to rewrite this properly <3

Warning/s: mentions of night terrors, mentions of panic attacks (no descriptions)

You had met the Earl Phantomhive around the time his parents had passed. You had met the Phantomhive through the grapevine of the Queen’s ‘guard dogs’, and didn’t really get to know the young boy until he returned, demon butler by his side. It was then the two of you were paired for missions. The Queen saw similarities between the two of you, and thought it would be well for you to become friends with the Earl.

You see, due to your past, you weren’t the most sociable person out there. You preferred to keep to yourself, and refrained from interacting with others as much as you could. It played in your favor that most feared you, both due to your reputation with the queen as well as the way you presented yourself. It was almost as if no one could touch you.

Until you officially met Ciel. The two of you worked well together. What you lacked in skill and intelligence, he made up for, and vice versa. It also helped that Sebastian was there. In fact, the demon butler and his master took a liking to you, even going as far as inviting you to stay at the Estate when they learned that you didn’t have an official residence. You agreed hesitantly. While you were comfortable around the two, you couldn’t bear the thought of being vulnerable around them. You were traumatized at a young age, leaving you plagued with nightmares and flashbacks from time to time. Opening yourself up to Ciel was a huge step for you, one you were unsure how to handle.

Ciel, on the other hand, was ecstatic. He’d never admit it, partially due to his personality and partially due to his engagement to Lizzy, but the Earl had begun developing feelings for you. It was more than a petty middle school crush that other boys his age experienced. He had been feeling this way for quite some time now, and couldn’t quite name his emotions until he spoke of it with Sebastian. It was worth the endless teasing that lasted weeks, but Ciel had now finally realized how much he truly loved you. And now you’re going to be living with him.

Ciel was unsure of how to show his love for you without a) making it obvious, and b) letting Lizzy know. Don’t get him wrong, Ciel truly did like Lizzy and he didn’t want to do anything to hurt her, but he loved you more than her. The boy opted to spend time with you doing small things, such as reading together or just simply sitting in the same room as you as the two of you worked separately. You were hesitant of all this at first, because you were used to being alone so often, but over time you became more comfortable.

This time spent between the two of you went from silence to small chatter. Ciel would ask how your day has been, and you’d answer then return the question. It took months of living together and getting accustomed to each other’s emotions to begin discussing deeper topics. You were both severely traumatized children who never learned how to cope with said trauma. Sure, Ciel had Sebastian, but he was a demon and therefore was incapable of feeling human emotions. So he tried talking to you.

Ciel wouldn’t ever say much about the death of his family or the events that came afterwards, but he wanted to be vulnerable around you. The boy hoped that this would bring the two of you even closer, and then he’d be comfortable enough to confess his love for you. Except every time he tried to have a deep conversation, you would turn him down almost immediately. There was one week in particular when you were having vivid night terrors, causing you to get only a few hours of sleep a night. You would wake up screaming until you couldn’t anymore, and often suffered intense panic attacks afterwards. Usually Sebastian would try and help but you would only push him away, barely muttering about how you were alright and didn’t need any help.

These night terrors always woke Ciel, and after the third night he came bursting into your room in the place of Sebastian. He desperately tried to calm you down, to try and talk to you, but you refused his help. It broke his heart to see you this way, and to know that you were unwilling to accept his help hurt him even more. How could the two of you be together if you wouldn’t let him help you?

The next day during breakfast, Ciel offered to let you speak to him anytime about anything you needed. Whether it be to get something off of your chest, or just to rant about anything, he would be there for you. You weren’t sure how you felt about his offer, so you only nodded and took a bite of your food.

The Earl Phantomhive invited you on an afternoon walk after dinner. At first you hesitantly agreed, only because Sebastian would be following closely. Yet once you saw the extravagant clothing the boy was wearing, you quickly retreated back to your room and feigned illness. It took some convincing, but Ciel finally left you to ‘recover’. In reality, you curled up on the floor, leaning against the door as you silently cried to yourself. 

You were so torn between your emotions. It was blatantly obvious that Ciel saw you as more than just a friend, and he wanted to take your relationship to the next level. You wondered if your own emotions were just as easy to see. You wouldn’t admit it just yet, but you were beginning to fall for Ciel yourself. Although you hadn’t opened up much to the boy, it was easy to feel comfortable and see him. The two of you shared similar pasts, and you hadn’t met anyone else that made you feel as safe and comfortable as the Earl did. 

Despite your feelings for the boy, there was one major red flag following closely behind him. Ciel was a master manipulator. It was clear as day that Ciel knew just how to act to get what he wanted, knew what to say to get his way. You weren’t even sure if he had manipulated you at some point, he was that good. Oh, and he’s also engaged.

You wanted to take Ciel up on all of his romantic gestures. You wanted to go on late night walks with him, go to balls (even though neither of you particularly enjoyed them), or even just spend the evening together almost every night of the week. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to give in to the urge.

This carried on for months. Ciel would ‘discreetly’ ask you out on small dates, and you would turn him down and most commonly retreat to your room. Once you left, Ciel’s small smile would fall and he would immediately turn to Sebastian with downcast eyes.

Sebastian was the only one Ciel could confess to at this point. He couldn’t go to Izzy, obviously, and he couldn’t go to you, so he was left with his demon butler. It was a part of their bedtime routine now. Sebastian would dress Ciel for bed, asking him about his day and his plans for the next. Ciel would grumble about paperwork before quickly changing the subject to his failed attempts of asking you out. He’d seek advice from the demon before turning in for the night. 

It wasn’t until six months after Ciel’s first attempt to ask you out that Lizzy was caught in the crossfire. It wasn’t intentional, and Ciel would have never said anything if he were aware of her presence. 

Lizzy had planned another surprise visit and stay at the Phantomhive Manor. She had arrived later than expected due to an extreme thunderstorm causing a delay in travel. Upon arriving at the manor, she let herself in and immediately ran to where she assumed Ciel would be in his study as her maid carried in her baggage. Lizzy quickly but silently ran to Ciel’s study, throwing open the door.

“Ciel!” she squealed in the highest pitch her voice could achieve. “Supri– oh.” Lizzy frowned slightly when she noticed the empty room. It looked as though Ciel hadn’t been there in a while. Shaking her head, the girl grinned widely yet again when she could hear faint voices coming from down the hall. Upon further expectation, she realized the voices were coming from the library. 

Elizabeth wasted no time in bursting into the room rather loudly, causing you and Ciel to quite literally jump out of your seats with fear. Ciel’s hand even ghosted over the firearm he had tucked into his boot. 

“Ciel!” Lizzy squeals again. She runs over to the two of you, about to tackle the poor boy in a hug before realizing what was going on between the two of you. 

You had to admit, this wasn’t the ideal position to see your fiance and your best friend in. It wasn't anything too terrible, but it could definitely raise some questions. You were practically laying in Ciel’s lap, your legs draped over his as your head rested against his shoulder. A book rested against your legs where Ciel was reading to you a mere moment ago. You both were dressed in your night clothes, and overall this was a very rare sight of Ciel. 

Lizzy’s smile immediately dropped to a deep frown, her bright green eyes welling with tears. “Y/N? Ciel? What’s going on?”

You jumped out of Ciel’s lap and to the other side of the couch. Your heart was beating out of your chest, fear coursing through your veins. This is exactly why you never wanted to act on your feelings for Ciel, for fear of ruining not only his relationship with Lizzy, but also your own. “Lizzy,” Ciel says quickly, standing and tossing the forgotten book onto the couch. He tried to reach out to the girl but she only took a step back and wiped at her eyes.

“I should have seen it coming,” she chokes through a broken cry. “I knew this day would come.” It takes a moment for Lizzy to calm herself down, but she wipes the last of her tears away as Ciel tries to comfort her.

“It’s ok,” she cuts him off from his senseless babbling, pushing his outstretched arms away. “I’ve known for a long time that this day would come.” Glossy green eyes met your e/c ones as she smiled softly. “I can see how much the two of you love each other,” she confesses. “And as much as I love the two of you, I can’t bear knowing I am what is keeping you from being together.” Lizzy’s gaze shifted to her fiance. “I love you Ciel. So much that I want you to be happy.” Her warm hands slowly reached for his own, giving them a gentle squeeze. “So I’m ending our engagement.” Pressing one last kiss against Ciel’s cheek, Lizzy let go. 

“I can only hope the best for the two of you.” Just like that, she was gone.

You and Ciel couldn’t bear to look at each other, let alone speak. You weren’t sure how to feel. You finally had the freedom to be with the man you were learning to love, yet at what cost? Did you just lose your best friend? What do you know? Ciel was asking himself the same questions. But it didn’t take long for him to drop beside you back on the couch, slowly turning to you. 

“What do we do now?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I don’t know,” Ciel confessed. “To be honest, I think I need some time to process this.”

You nodded, then stood quickly. “Of course, I understand.” You retreated back to your bedroom as soon as possible, diving under the covers and staring at the ceiling. You were finally free to express your love for Ciel, yet unsure what the next steps were. It was going to take time to figure out your relationship status with the Earl, and what to do next, but it will be worth the wait.

[starsillys]

MASSIVE YAP WARNING!!!

getting this out here so I don’t for get later because the tamagotchi au is fresh on my mind and I forgot to elaborate further (I can yap for hours on end)

Kinito was the first created out of the three and was admired by a certain somebody quite a lot,,, he was a beloved character, so much in fact a silly secret guy basically decided to make his oc real and put a lot of efforts and time and lots of passion into creating this tamagotchi by scratch,, like doing the programming and assimilation and stuff,, so you can imagine the massive disappointment when his friend suddenly started bugging out quite frequently and eventually had just. Stopped working for a long while afterwards! Heart broken and stupid, unable to find the cause for this (something silly like. He like. Slightly dislocated a wire after dropping it or something causing it to constantly just have a blank screen by accident and he was unaware of this.. idk I never had a tamagotchi bfore guys I don’t know how they wor’k) he sold the gotchi as it over time became just. A sad memory for him yknow. Anyway Kinito was still very much on. He was awake and aware during this time of accidental abandonment. He just didn’t know the SILLY reasoning behind why his creator and supposed best friend had just left him aside to collect dust,, all alone,,, with no interaction for years,,, and he couldn’t really come out just as yet because after all that time he still had faith. He believed his friend would come back to him. That he wasn’t forgotten and just needed to wait! No need to come out. What if he was busy? What if he just didn’t had time right now? no need to come out, friend will come back so just stay inside. [spoiled once he was being sold like years later is when he actually finally came to the terms that he had indeed been given up on, and had purposely became inactive everytime you (y/n) after purchase tried to interact by feeding or playing with him via the tamagotchi mini games because he was still like. Horribly devastated. Still going through grief but overtime became more grown to his new friend, you!! Because despite how many times he’s refused to go along with any of the activities you tried to do with him, you never really stopped and gave him hope of some sorts that you won’t really be too quick to give up on him as easily! So he kind of took it as a new opportunity to start new,, and now being a bit more expressive of his needs for attention and care, rather than just waiting for you to do it for him whenever it is convenient for you, he will let you know when he needs something one way or another; being more confident with this new friendship to even going so far as to literally come out of the screen! Wowaz!

also side note. Ummmrrr,, kinito was always a very self aware/conscious entity. Like even during development, while he wasn’t rlly all there to process things and what they meant,, he was always conscious and listening. He’s basically one of those guys who had literally remembered everything since like the day of birth. You know those guys with crazy memory. Never forgets anything. so,, m mmm playing into a personal headcanon his creator who shall go unnamed wink wink nudge nudge is kind of a silly goofy guy,, a lil silly,, who likes to talk a lot even when alone,, ummm,,, Kinito picked up on everything dude. Like he was yess yess mhm I agree and listening silent and supportively. Listening to everything his friend was saying. Admiring his creativity and knowledge with what ideas he’d blurt out or how he’d talk to himself when he’d work. He especially loved the idea his creator would constantly talk about regarding the creation other digital entities(fish oc) Kinito loved this idea because it would mean he’d have friends of his own to interact with, since he figured he couldn’t directly so much with his creator, unfortunately. He would listen and observe the sketches or hear about the ideas and early concepts of jade and sam. He absolutely adored his friends, despite not ever meeting them before.

[arikihalloween]

Wakfu art dump because yes

This post is gonna be super long because I will ramble IN DEPTH today

So huh if you like my rambling or my art just read ig, otherwise scroll away idk what to tell ya

Showing some of my art and ramble because wakfu is part of my current big 3 hyperfixations ( along with WH and Trolls )

So huh enjoy my growing insanity ( I compiled it in one post to not annoy people too much :')

Presenting my oc Sharm !

An (very pink) Eliotrope

She's based on my in game character but I kinda gave her lore and a story so

⭐INFODUMP about Wakfu in general ! ⭐

Basic infos for those who don't know anything about Wakfu :

Wakfu is a french animated serie made by the studio Ankama, who also made several mmorpg games ( and way more, like the amount of content and lore is crazy)

Most of the stories will take place on the World of Twelves, populated by 12 main races (with many variation)

And there is a 13th "main race", the Eliatropes, which is the race of the main character of the anime, Yugo

Eliotropes ( with a o instead of a) are a subrace of the Eliatropes ( lore is explained in the serie but I don't wanna spoil, so to boil it down, Eliotropes are unstable pale copies of eliatropes) [ they are playable in the game wakfu]

So, what about Sharm ? Well she was born a pretty regular Eliotrope. She had two "brothers", Chance and Vitali, who unfortunately ended up fading away with time ( mechanically, when an Eliotrope die, his/her essence will go to the nearest Eliotrope to allow them to live longer)

So Sharm was left alone for very long, and stayed in Eliatropes ruins she found. Those were overgrown by stasis ( type of crystals, very bad, generally associated with corruption and destruction)

However, the essence she got from her siblings passing could only last so long

One day, in a desperate attempt to not die, Sharm took stasis and...ate it. Chewed on the mf crystals, and surprisingly, an interesting reaction occured : it stabilised her essence. It also made her basically frozen in development, Sharm cannot grow anymore and her power levels are quite limited in quantity, unless she uses stasis.

So my girl went through the ages, she kept on researching on the remnant of the eliatrope race ( wiped out aside from a few) and became sort of an archeologist

Nowadays, Sharm travels from a country/city to an other, often with mercenaries she hires as bodyguards . The other two ocs in this sketch page are the said mercenaries

And the cat is called Noiraude !

Sharm needs protection because she is stupidly useless in combat

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

And also I have fanarts of Nora !

And also, it's time for the gremlin mode

The worst of the ramble

I kinda just need to scream for a moment

Beware, big spoilers for the serie ahead ! Stop now and go watch Wakfu !! It's all on Netflix ( season 1, season 2, then the 3 oav, THEN season 3 and you will be ready for season 4 :D)

So, this character is Nora (second drawing is a headcanon version of her)

Who is Nora ? She is the sixth eliatrope of the Council ( Eliatropes are rules by the six first borns of the race who can reincarnate along with their dragon twin)

Nora appeared for the first time in a flashback the episode "Quilbi" in season 2

In 2011

And back then she was in a flashback, so presumed dead from the war that wiped out the Eliatropes

BUT

Lately, as clips and trailers of season 4 of Wakfu has been released

It's confirmed that Nora is there

She's alive

She's in season 4

*grabs u*

2011

She has been my favorite character of Wakfu since her one and only appearance, alright ?

And now

12-13 years later

She is real

SHE IS REAL AND ALIVE IN THE SERIE

*maniacal laughter*

I will not shut up about it

Prepare for the fanarts

*retreats to the shadows*

[thedoodlenoodle14]

Ok sooo...a cool person ( @regretfullyrave ), convinced me to create a post about a few of my OCs for my future murder drones AU called "It lives on Ebony 8" and welll.....here it is! XD

I'll also first say that my AU takes place on a completely different Exoplanet called Ebony 8 (which instead of being ice and snow is mostly just forest and rivers, no oceans tho, unfortunately), but still used to be inhabited by humans before the disassembly drones attacked 😅

But, here's a list of my MD OCs! :3 or at least, the OC's I think are most important XD

1. Xane- Grumpy boi Xane! XD Before he was sent to earth, he, as well as two other disassembly drone ocs, Beta and Green, had a virus implanted within them which became known as "The Dark Matter infection" (which sort of gave Cyn an easy access to, not take them as hosts, but use them as puppets instead). Although Xane loves to fight, he hates to fight when controlled by Cyn and wishes to find a cure.

Other than that, Xane may seem pretty threatening, but deep down he's a big softie (he won't admit it tho XD)

2. Eric- Eric is my worker drone oc, and possibly the main character of my AU 👀 his parents once studied the disassembly drones and the The Dark Matter infection and after their death, Eric continued their work, but also befriended Xane and helps to find a cure for him.

Eric is smart, but not a very good fighter XD but he's kind and willing to give second chances. He finds disassembly drones way more fascinating than scary too lol

3. Green - (creative name, I know TvT) Just like Xane, Green also has the Dark Matter infection. When she landed on Ebony 8, she took a lot of damage. Her weapon system was damaged beyond repair, leaving her somewhat defenceless. However, without her weapon system, she couldn't easily overheat, meaning she didn't have a need to kill worker drones for oil. She actually ended up befriending a worker drone colony and becoming sort of a protector of them. Green is pretty chill and laid back tho and not overly dramatic like Xane XD

4. Beta - Once again, he has the Dark Matter infection too 😅 he's still a character I'm developing, but from what I can say, he's a pretty jumpy and paranoid dude and always nervous. And his best friend is a cat called Milo! :3 (Beta is a major cat person XD)

(I don't have an updated design for him yet 😅)

5. M - M is the leader of one of the disassembly drone squads (Xane's ex-squad too). She...uh...also killed Eric's parents...heh....😅 M is also kind of in love with Xane (despite Xane not feeling the same way at all XD), but M is pretty much a psychopath. However, I do want to continue developing her and perhaps giving her some motivations to her actions. Like...I know M is pretty evil...but I do believe she might be capable of change somehow.....just gotta keep developing her character 😅

(I also don't have an image for her yet XD)

6. Cortex - one of my newer Ocs, who was originally a worker drone, but I changed him to a disassembly drone instead XD He's M's twin brother, but I haven't developed a solid backstory or personality for this character yet. All I can say I that...he's not at crazy as M 😅 I'm still also trying to decide whether he would be a villain or not, but I have been thinking of giving him a similar role to J in some way.

As an added bonus, here's a little concept of Cortex when he was still a worker drone in development 👀

But yea...those are just the OCs that I think are pretty important in my AU so far :D they're all a work in progress and will probably change over time (except Xane, of course) :3

Also, go follow @regretfullyrave. They're cool! :3 And I also don't wanna get charged for tax evasion by W lmao

[divineintervention-comics]

When did you first read the myth of Ganymede? And why did you chose to make a comic for this myth?

its a long and convoluted story but im happy to share. in 2015, i was in middle school, i made horror character designs based on the zodiac signs and those later became OCs (i have never read homestuck, everything i know about it was forced upon me by my friends in school). i used the myths as backstories for the characters when they are living constellations. i wanted to make a RPG and they were stars that fell to earth when the gods got too caught up in their bullshit and neglected humanity and the earth and now they have to save the world.

i was immediately attached to Aquarius (who is now Ganymede), he was always an androgynous perpetually dissociated character even before i knew the backstory. i was a teenager myself at this point when i really got into it, and i found the Zeus and Ganymede myth to be disturbing since i was his age. it stuck with me, to the point where i struggled to find the other constellations myths less compelling.

i dont know how to code and didnt know how to make games, i already felt like i was losing it bc its been in production hell since i was 12 and i was 17 at the time. i felt like before i make the game, i should make backstory comics for ALL 12 CHARACTERS (how i thought i would be able to do that when i only cared about 2-3 of the characters in the series who knows). i couldnt stop thinking about Ganymede, i couldnt stop thinking about a story where he is a character and not just an object in the narrative.

in 2020-2021, i made my first draft beta version, it wasnt called "Cupbearers", it was "Divine Intervention: Cupbearer". i just found the myth so compelling in a "i need to make a horror story out of this" way, i needed to cope with my own fears of kidnapping, sexual abuse, human trafficking, loss of bodily autonomy, transformations, immortality, and being stuck through this myth inspired comic.

Ganymede, even as Aquarius, has always been a cathartic character for me, both as a 12 year old and now as a 21 year old. i grow up but he is cursed with immortality, cursed with eternal youth, the world keeps moving on and he will never be able to catch up. stuck in the same spot, never moving forward, never moving backwards, just stuck working for the man who stole his life until the end of time, eternal punishment viewed as a gift by those who bestowed it upon him. how could you be so ungrateful? we gave you a gift. we took you away from everything you've ever known, we've taken away ownership of your body, we've turned you into a beast like us, being tortured by me is a gift, it is a privilege that i chose you, you ungrateful meat-thing.

but he is just a kid, i want to protect him, i want to draw him having fun, i want to draw him enjoying a good meal, i want to see him find any comfort in the horror that is immortality. he's only a kid. just a baby, barely even though puberty, his brain isnt done developing, he had a future, he could have grown up and chose his own life. i think about that a lot.

i just generally have a lot of thoughts, everything i write and draw for this project has a point, it has a purpose, its not just needless suffering i dont write despair. (some zeus x ganymede shipper vagueposted about cupbearers being needless wallowing without purpose bc i dont write fluff fics between a grown man and his child slave)

i really appreciate this ask!!! thanks for asking me about my thought process, i have so much going on in my head and i need to get it out somehow

[mothxart]

Behold~ 𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ

The new reference for Willow that took me way too long to do good lord I’m not doing a reference that detailed for my other ocs ever again

If you have any questions or you want to ask something about this fella, go ahead!! TELL MEEE :D

I will respond to them the best I can, I still need to develop some lore about Willow :3

More infos ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

Willow

Willow joined this team recently. Bryan, his mentor, took the responsibility of taking this newcomer under his wing. He still have a lot to learn about his job and this new environment. He’s quite timid but his presence is gladly appreciated by the others on his team.

— Since Willow is a novice on his team, he’s always accompanied by Bryan.

— Willow hates pretty much everything that has many legs such as spiders and snare fleas,

— That fear developed itself on his first day when a face hugger directly fell on his face. Luckily, Bryan was there to help.

— He once had a dog named Angello.

— He studies in meteorological phenomenon 𖤓

— He doesn’t fully know how he ended up working for the company,,,

Masked Willow

— Shefford is the most affected out of everyone (by the death of Willow). He saw what happened to Willow from a far distance and he was unable to do anything to help him get out of this bloody situation. He cannot stand to talk about Willow after what has happened. He fears to lost somebody else on their team.

— Willow is pretty much afraid of everything. This poor fella shakes in terrors if he happens to either see or hear a thumper or the masked who converted him. The masked who converted Willow in question looks after him so he doesn’t rot in a corner or die by something.

— Willow’s memory shortens everyday as the mask takes possession of its host. He will remember the most important things that he hold dear to his heart. Day after day, he will progressively loose them.

— Willow keeps his walkie since it briefly reminds him of his lost friends. It makes him feel calm and secured. He doesn’t fully know why he feels that way as his memory shortens everyday.

— Willow’s memories are still pretty fresh in his mind. However, he tempts to forget easily as the mask is slowly possessing him. He’d try to remember his friends, but sometimes he would just forget their face, their names…little details like that.

— He ran into a Thumper who bit him to his right ankle and got dragged far away into the mansion.

— Willow’s ankle would heal as time goes by…but any sudden or rough movements would tear the muscle tissues apart from his wounds, causing its ankle to bleed out again…

[kingyo-konbini]

TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS [KITA SHINSUKE X READER]

[SUMMARY] kita’s friend suddenly moves out of town without a word. he doesn’t realize how much she took with her when she left. [PRONOUNS] she/her [GENRE] light angst | song fic [POV] third person [WORD COUNT] 977 [CONTENT] miscommunication/lack thereof | unknowing mutual pining | inspo from song lyrics [A/N] may or may not have stolen this from a thing I wrote for my oc and tweaked it a bit…

(I still have everything you brought / But you never took)

She’d left her book.

It was a strange book, one Kita had never read himself despite finding the title intriguing. “Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World” by Murakami Haruki. She was more than halfway through it, the pale blue bookmark he’d given her sticking out from the pages.

It sat on his desk, next to a near-empty pack of peach-flavored gum. She’d left that, too.

The thought of reading the book for himself crossed his mind, but the moment the thought occurred, a sick, sour feeling bubbled up in his stomach, telling him he couldn’t—he needed to save her spot, so she could pick it up again when they met.

The gum, however, did need to go. He was more of a mint fan himself, and the gum might go stale by the time they reunited. Could gum go stale? Regardless, it would just be better to buy her a new pack, anyway.

His feet wouldn’t move towards his desk, though.

[“You left your book and some gum.”]

The text went through, but was never answered.

The book and the pack of gum remained on his desk, untouched, for almost a month. Then, his grandmother took pity on him and threw the pack away and put the book on his bookshelf.

She didn’t say anything about it, and neither did he.

[“Granny threw the gum away, I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a new pack.”]

The text went through, but was never answered.

[“Are you coming back?”]

The text went through, but was never answered.

[“Are you coming back?”]

He stopped texting her.

(And although I think I’ll miss them / At least there’s proof of my existence)

They weren’t dating. They had never dated. He was her best friend, and in some ways she was his, too. They shared things, and she had developed a bad habit of leaving things at his home.

Kita, on the other hand, always made sure to keep track of his things. There was one time a knit hat went missing, but he quickly discovered that she had absconded with it after being surprised by a cold front. She offered to return it, but he declined. It looked better on her.

There was another time she asked to borrow a pen before classes started, stating that she’d forgotten hers at home. How she could forget her pen dumbfounded him, but he provided her with one of his own, nonetheless. A never used, black ink ballpoint pen; his favorite brand, and one of the last ones he had remaining. He didn’t tell her this, knowing that she would refuse to even borrow it with that knowledge. He didn’t ask for it back after class.

Granny had helped clean out the family’s house after they moved, and she’d mentioned offhandedly once that despite leaving in a hurry, they hadn’t forgotten a single thing.

For some reason, it felt good to think that she still had his hat and his pen, even if she didn’t remember where they’d come from.

(You know where to find me)

Nobody really brought her up once news of her moving made it around the school. Kita didn’t think it was out of sympathy for him, which although thoughtful was unnecessary, but more so because the year was ending and life doesn’t stop for one girl.

His unread texts to her were buried beneath other texts with his family, friends, and teammates. Her book remained on his bookshelf, with the pale blue bookmark saving her place. Eventually the scent of peaches stopped reminding him of her. He bought mint gum and finished the pack.

His number didn’t change, nor did his address.

One time Miya Atsumu asked about her after practice. It wasn’t even a question directed at Kita, but instead towards Ojiro.

“Did we ever find out what happened to-?”

“Her family moved away.” Ojiro answered, glancing at Kita, who didn’t look away from the ball he was wiping off.

“Do we know where?”

“I think I heard someone mention Tokyo once.”

“Did she ever reach out to ya, Kita-san?”

Kita ignored the smack on the arm Ojiro gave the older twin.

“No.”

“But y’all were close, weren’t ya?”

Ojiro hissed at him to shut up. Kita shrugged.

“She knows where I am.”

Miya Atsumu never brought her up after that.

(And I know where to look)

It was unexpected, seeing her on the court.

She sat on the ground, fiddling with a large, fancy camera in her lap. Another girl stood behind her, leaning over her shoulder and watching. The Nekoma team’s captain was standing in front of her, laughing.

She looked the same, from where he stood. He imagined that she would think the same of him.

A low whistle speared the air behind him. “No way. Is that…?” Kita hummed in favor of a response. “What’s she doin’ here?”

He didn’t have an answer to Ojiro’s question.

He looked away.

It didn’t surprise him to find her lurking in the hallways outside the bathroom just before the Inarizaki team was set to start warming up; if he’d spotted her, then she must have spotted him and remembered his little routine prior to the start of a game. It just felt better to begin playing with clean hands.

Her camera wasn’t with her, and there was a hollow, sorrowful expression on her face. She met his eyes for a moment, and then looked back at the ground.

She didn’t say anything.

Kita tried to ignore what felt like a thousand snakes moving around in his stomach upon being so close to her again. He hadn’t ever consciously thought about it until that moment: he’d missed her.

“Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World.”

“I still have your book.”

And she still smelled like peaches.

[xjulixred45x]

If it's okay can I please ask for platonic yandere Choso for kianna komori and Yui komrei

Like say he meet both girls through his little brother helping them get away from the organization that tried to kidnap them and use their blood and kianna becomes a sorcerer to protect her sister but Choso soon finds out that she's his niece

And he grows paranoid of losing her since he already lost his brothers and in his eyes all he has left is Yuji and kianna and Yui

But he's especially paranoid about losing kianna

Because in his eyes she's just a little girl that he needs to protect even though she can defend herself

CHOSO MAAAAAAN! considerate it done hun.

Platonic Yandere! Choso x Kianna Komori! Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female/OC Kianna of @nunezs-stuff

Warnings: PLATONIC YANDERE BEHAVIOR, obsesive behavior, Paranoid Behavior, overprotection, Choso doesn't know how human relationships work and that leads to his downfall, unhealthy mentality, mentions of self-harm(reader), PTSD, lore of the Ocs of Nunezs, I think that's all.

You didn't have much growing up.

No, it wasn't because we needed food and shelter, but because they always made you take a backseat compared to your older sister, especially your father.

He was a very strict man, very serious, he ignored you most of the time, and when he didn't...you wished he would, making your life impossible.

Despite everything, at least you had your older sister. She was always kind to you, she tried to avoid conflicts between you and her father, she gave you her clothes or lent them to you, etc.

She took care of you the best she could, so to speak.

He was also the one who helped you when you started seeing "things"

At first they were small and seemingly defenseless, but after a while more and more appeared... they were curses that were attracted to your cursed energy.

You didn't bother to talk to your father about it, you thought he would think you had already lost your mind.

although if you told Yui, she could see them too, although they definitely didn't follow her as much as they followed you.

You discovered on your own how to use your cursed energy, even if it was in a basic way, it was complicated, but you even managed to develop certain bases for your Cursed ritual.

You felt powerful with these new abilities, special even. You believed that now you could defend yourself better from what the world tried to do with you.

But unfortunately that did not save any of you from what your father had prepared.

You don't remember much, although it did seem strange to you that your father brought them food, looking back, he must have drugged it.

and when you woke up, your sister was with you in a new place.

You and your sister were given as a "sacrifice" to a kind of trafficking network that your father worked for.

The bastard abandoned you two...

Even if the experience there was absolute hell, you were able to gather some information with your sister about WHY they had been chosen.

It turns out that neither of them were completely human, but hybrids of human and curse.

For the same reason, you had a hyper-developed cursed technique and your sister, apparently, the ability to heal and increase the Cursed energy of others with her own blood.

You didn't like this.

your "real" father was apparently dead, it was a curse, one of Noritoshi Kamo's experiments.

part of his 10 cursed creations..

Fortunately for you and your sister, they were rescued by sorcerers. or rather, a young sorcerer, a little younger than you.

Yuji Itadori.

I practically took them both out running and without a problem, I took them to the academy and to have a check-up with Shoko.

Fortunately nothing serious, but the experience definitely left its marks.

You felt very...helpless throughout the whole situation, even when you were rescued, that persisted.

so you made a risky decision.

become a sorceress.

You managed to improve your cursed technique (related to blood) and learn more about the world of Jujustu in general.

Even if you were capable, you were only a rookie when all the sorcerers were called to help in Shibuya...

Choso knew from the beginning that there was something strange about you and your sister...

something... familiar.

Not only was the way You two looked familiar to him, but there were several coincidences that couldn't leave his head.

the most important, your damn technique. very similar to Maku's.

Even if this tormented Choso by reminding him of his lost brother, it couldn't distract him from avenging the other two.

but he didn't expect to meet you during the Shibuya incident.

or rather, the two of you together, you and your sister, trying to give medical reinforcements to the other sorcerers.

Choso only watched for a solid minute, frozen, watching them work, taking advantage of the fact that they didn't see him yet.

They reminded him a lot of Maku, his brother.

brother I should have protected...

like Kechiku and Esou....

Choso came back to reality and realized that maybe the best thing would be to kill you and your sister, it would be problematic to have them around curing sorcerers.

but as soon as he prepared to attack, it happened AGAIN.

memories that NEVER happened...

this time not only with his brothers and Yuji, but also with YOU TWO...with Maku...

but You two didn't call him brother.

but UNCLE...

Now everything made sense...

the powers...the appearance...everything...

After Choso goes through his existential crisis and tries to go after Kenjaku and fails at the end of the Shibuya arc, he also tries to properly introduce himself to you and your sister.

Obviously at first you were very skeptical. your sister the same. but Choso was insistent and above all, sincere.

even if you barely knew him, you felt kind of bad for him.

so they let him make his way into their lives.

Your sister taught him basic human customs, even sharing some information about his brother, your original father.

Choso saw a lot of Maku in you physically and in your sister in the form of a sweet and motherly attitude.

which made the feeling of protection skyrocket.

Little by little this feeling, within the limits of protection towards you and your sister, evolved into something more...darker...so to speak.

Choso became quite paranoid since his brothers, okay? You didn't blame him for that, you constantly justified it because the poor man had lost his brothers in a short period of time.

you just thought it was his way of dealing with things...besides you'd be lying if you said you didn't like the attention he gave you and your sister.

being treated WELL after YEARS of being ignored and despised... Great change that, he REALLY loved you, you were willing to tolerate certain attitudes that were somewhat out of place.

This only made Choso's tendencies worsen considerably, because since there were no obvious signs of displeasure (not being used to good treatment in the first place), Choso began to show more yandere attitudes.

He became quite clingy, which while it wasn't bad per se, it was definitely uncomfortable for you at first, you weren't used to this type of contact other than your sister.

but again you let it go thinking it was just Choso having no idea what personal space was.

although Choso definitely almost lost it when he saw your old marks of self-harm.

he was so??? Why would you hurt yourself? because??? What can he do to help you? Who does he have to kill?

From there, he becomes considerably more observant with you and hardly leaves you alone, it is a level in which you have almost no privacy.

Choso constantly tries to convince you to leave the Sorceress job, because now that he is here he can provide for both of us, he will try to get your sister to side with him, even if she doesn't, I can see him trying to convince you based on because it is for your good and hers.

Even if you notice the Red Flags at this point, does it really matter? Choso, even with his questionable attitudes, has cared more about you and your sister than the people who supposedly claimed to do so, he protects them from everything and above all, he sincerely LOVES them.

At least Choso has never lied to you! or has done questionable things to get you on his side! He's not that kind of person...

Right?

In general, he is an extremely soft platonic Yandere, who will do whatever it takes to protect the little family he has left.

at all costs.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Thanks for the Request!❤️ Now i'm going to sleep--