#do you consume a concerning amount of content? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ddarker-dreams · 10 days ago

Text

A Deal's a Deal.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, violence against minor characters, descriptions of anxiety, mentions of alcohol. Word count: 5k.

Next (TBA)

“... Sorry. This one’s no good either.”

Sighing dejectedly, you sink into your seat.

You can’t tell if your companion’s disappointed. He maintains a neutral countenance, betraying nothing of his inner thoughts. Still, you study him, awaiting some visual indication before moving the conversation forward. He must sense your intentions, for he catches your gaze and smiles.

“Should we call it a day? You look tired.”

“The hell? Isn’t it considered taboo to tell a lady she looks tired?” You grumble. “And here I thought you were Casanova incarnate. You’ve got to work on your charisma stats.”

Chrollo shrugs halfheartedly. “What point is there if you’re immune to my many charms?”

“Let’s be real — ‘many’ is overdoing it, a little humility won’t hurt. I commend your budding self-awareness, though. At least we’ve made progress on that front.”

He hums, offering no rebuttal. You realize that you’ve perked back up, reinvigorated by his goading. He certainly knows how to get people going. Among his defining features, that’s one of the first you recognized; his uncanny way of orchestrating favorable outcomes.

Sipping your preferred warm beverage, you canvass your surroundings.

The café’s less crowded than when you came in. There are still a few students typing away on their laptops while consuming a concerning amount of caffeine. In the corner sits an elderly couple, whose order you overheard by virtue of the volume it was placed at — “Give me a regular coffee. Straight black, none of that ‘appaccino, grand venti’ nonsense. Decaf for my wife.”

(You prayed for the barista’s sanity when he tried explaining the different ways ‘straight black’ could come).

“... I am losing my touch, aren’t I?” Chrollo murmurs. You snap your head in his direction, having temporarily forgotten his existence. “You prefer older men?”

You almost choke mid-sip. “Pleh…! That’s it, I’m retiring, good luck sorting your issues out.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“How I wish you were wrong,” you deadpan. Lifting his phone off the table, you scroll through its contents. There’s nothing new to look at. “An exorcist, huh? You’re positive that’s a real thing?”

“They exist. They’re just rare, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“I blame the Protestant Reformation.”

The skin beneath his eyes wrinkles. “... Cute.”

His compliment makes you frown.

“Quit it with the flattery, already.”

“Flattery implies a degree of insincerity, no?” He challenges. “You of all people should know when I’m being genuine.”

“You make it sound like I’m a walking polygraph.”

His lips part and close as he considers his response. “That isn’t how I view you.”

This guy’s clever with his word choice, you think. Too clever.

Disliking where this conversation might go, you redirect.

“This ‘Hunter’ site you’ve been using… is there any way for me to access it?”

“Feeling a bit impatient, are we?”

There’s a patronizing lilt to this tone that has you inhaling sharply. Closing your eyes, you ball your hands into fists, willing your agitated mind to relax. Your goal feels so close. This future you never believed possible dangles above your head, only to recede as if you were Tantalus whenever you grasp for it. Needling Chrollo won’t get you any closer, but at least it gives you something to do, mimicking progress.

“The Hunter site has various measures in place to prevent account sharing. You don’t want to end up on their radar,” Chrollo retrieves his phone and tucks it into his coat’s pocket. “While your enthusiasm’s admirable, I suggest you leave this part to me.”

You swallow thickly. “... Right.”

“Are you upset?”

“No, I’m not,” you rest your hands on your lap. “Just, y’know. Reminded that we’re from two different worlds.”

Outside the café’s windows, individuals from all walks of life bustle about. Some are on their phones, others chatting with friends, or holding their partner’s hands. It’s a picturesque display of normalcy. They’re likely thinking about what to have for dinner, when to set their alarm for the following day, if they can squeeze out of plans they halfheartedly agreed to over the weekend; you know this because you aspire to live the same way.

“You’re closer to mine than you think.”

A fervent disagreement blazes then turns to ash on your tongue. There’s an unidentifiable quality to his stare — neither kind nor outright malicious — almost clinical in its effort to elicit a reaction. You stir in your seat. Despite your time together, he’s as much an enigma as he’d been upon your first meeting. Charming and courteous, yet lacking genuine warmth, like a faux candle.

“Do you get some kick out of riling me up?”

“Maybe a little,” he admits. “Your expressive nature is endearing. I can’t help myself.”

His words resonate with such clarity that you can’t help but wish he’d been a little dishonest.

“I’m not a toy for you to entertain yourself with.”

His smile makes you squirm.

“I know you aren’t.”

“Then what—” you cut yourself off, fearing what might occur if you continue your original line of questioning. “Man, you’re exhausting to deal with. Has anyone ever told you that you have an awful personality?”

“Few get to be around me enough to comment on its quality.”

“I’m counting down the days until I’m no longer a member of that inner circle.”

Before Chrollo can respond, his phone audibly vibrates. Newfound excitement overwhelms you at the sound. He glances at the notification and nods, confirming your speculation. He places it in your eager hands. While you prepare, he steeples his fingers and leans forward, intrigued as always with your work.

You relax your breathing. This entire process is based on intuition, chasing after faint sensations until your desired outcome manifests. A pliable force thrums through you — what Chrollo refers to as ‘aura’ — awakening from its dormant state. Mindful of your public surroundings, you keep your dominant hand beneath the table. Where there was once nothing, a three-dimensional object rests snugly against your palm. Buttons of varying utility jut outward along its perimeter. This small item, shaped like a cassette recorder, stirs antipathy in your heart.

Holding down rewind, the cassette whirrs to life. You prepare to record the latest audio note sent in for analysis.

Instant Replay (One More Time!).

These past few months have seen your ability frequently leveraged. It was your personal conviction to refuse its use, lest paranoia eat away at you. However, freedom from this bondage necessitates further entanglement. You’ve parted with your long-standing morals, primed to pick through the syllables of others for your own purposes.

Right and wrong no longer concern you.

All you care about is surrendering this loathsome ability to the man sitting across the table.

The night air is unforgiving in its chill. It infiltrates your layers of clothing with laughable ease, seeping into your marrow and demanding that you shiver as recompense. Gritting your teeth, you pick up your pace, cursing the parking garage’s elevator for being out of order. You knew parking at your friend’s apartment complex was sparse, but this is a new record.

The heels of your shoes click against the concrete staircase as you rapidly ascend. A pale, yellowish hue illuminates your path, the lights occasionally flickering. The moon must be feeling shy tonight, for it hides behind thick, stationary clouds, refusing the world its silvery guidance.

Upon arriving on the third floor, you hear an ominous crackle in the distance.

The consequences are immediate. Intuition tells you to pause, goosebumps erupting over your flesh from head to toe. Darkness swallows your surroundings whole in inky blots. Blinking rapidly, your eyes struggle to adjust. You feel around for your phone and turn the flashlight on. The sudden loss of power perplexes you, did the building’s breaker trip? From what you can see, the rest of the street is unaffected.

You’re about to resume your journey when you feel something cold press against your temple.

“Don’t move,” a deep voice demands. The roar of a car’s engine echoes nearby, as does the hurried screech of tires. “Not so much as a fucking inch.”

Anxiety sets your every nerve aflame. You go stiff as a corpse, and perhaps you may have been mistaken for one, if not for the thunderous pounding of your heart. The moisture in your mouth dries up. Tortuous seconds drag on, devoid of any further commands. You’re ready to offer up your purse, wallet, or anything else he insists on, but he’s eerily silent.

A pair of approaching headlights blind you.

Is this more than a robbery? You struggle to comprehend the nightmarish events. The man holding you hostage radiates agitation, shifting his weight from foot to foot. In doing so, the barrel drags along your sweat-slicked skin. His apparent sloppiness has you weak in the knees — it’s your life hanging in the balance, why is he acting like the situation is reversed?

Abruptly, the vehicle veers off course, crashing into a line of parked cars. A terrible cacophony follows. Glass shatters, metal debris shrieks whilst scattering, and car alarms angrily sound in disunity. What you’re witnessing doesn’t feel like real life. Your disbelief is mutual, for the man holding you captive spews curses.

You hear a click by your side; the gun’s safety being disengaged.

“Shit!” He maneuvers you in the direction of the crash like you’re a shield. “There’s no way we were followed, no way, we did everything perfect—”

The man never finishes his sentence.

There’s a wet gurgle, then a wheeze, as something warm splatters on you from behind. Bile rises up your throat as the wretched noises continue. He must’ve fallen to the ground, for you no longer sense his lumbering presence, or feel the cold kiss of metal on your skin. Regardless, you refuse to budge. You squeeze your eyes shut and tremble wildly.

“There, there. You’re safe now. ♥” A rich baritone speaks from behind.

His declaration comes out discordant, belying the reassuring contents. You bristle at the new threat that’s presented itself. If what came before was a house cat, then this is an apex predator, the king of the jungle. The air around him feels oppressive, almost noxious. Even without a firearm directed at you, your panic reaches its zenith, soaring to heights untraversed.

“Hm? Still scared? Ah, that’s right,” he muses to himself. “Chrollo said you’re sensitive to dishonesty. This could be troublesome.”

“You… you know Chrollo?”

“So you’re not in a catatonic state — how reassuring.”

Slowly, you turn around, sensing a distinct lack of ill intent. Flashlight in hand, you try to make sense of what you witness. The scene that greets you is gruesome beyond your wildest expectations. The man who you assume held you at gunpoint has collapsed onto the ground, his jugular slit clean. Blood gushes from the wound like a geyser, forming a crimson puddle around his head. His eyes are wide, bloodshot, nearly bulging from the sockets. Liquids ooze from every visible orifice and a foul odor rises alongside them. This pitiful creature could’ve been your end. Instead, he met his, departing this world in abject terror.

Unexpectedly, his muscles twitch. Out of reflex, you jump back and yelp.

“Rest assured, he’s dead as a doornail.”

“Why…” you wet your dry lips, “What… what just…?”

While you stumble over your words, the building’s power makes a triumphant return. The lights flash intermittently, then go steady, allowing you an unobscured vantage point. Before you stands a tall, bizarrely dressed individual, with bright red hair. His beady, yellow eyes have a predatory gleam to them that he doesn’t bother suppressing. He holds a playing card in his claw-like hands, the three of spades.

It’s coated in fresh blood.

Your eyes fall to the fatal wound on your assailant's throat, the gears in your head turning.

You take a step back.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” With a flick of his wrist, the offending card disappears, though its memory burns strong. “I’m Hisoka, Chrollo’s… colleague of sorts. Now, there’s no need to introduce yourself. I’m well acquainted with you. ♥”

Is that supposed to make you feel better?

You couldn’t hide your suspicion if you tried. At the very least, there’s no indication that was a lie. However, his familiarity with you is a double-edged sword. If he’s crafty, he can outmaneuver your ability. Dishonesty isn’t black and white, there are loopholes to avoiding your detection. For instance, one can remain purposefully oblivious, lie by omission, or speak in vague terms. These gray areas pass you by as if you lacked this ‘sixth sense’ to begin with.

He was lying when he said I’m safe now, you recall. But he doesn’t seem interested in harming me…? Something isn’t adding up.

After much deliberation, you ask, “So you just happened to run into me?”

“Nope. I’ve been following you,” he freely admits. Your aghast expression makes him laugh. “What’s the matter? You were baiting me for the truth, were you not? You’re welcome to have it. ♦”

In your heightened state of sensitivity, you sense multiple presences converging nearby. Security guards, if you had to guess. You weigh your options. If you stay here, you’ll undoubtedly be harassed for a story that explains the chaos. Telling the truth would land you in a straight jacket whereas deception guarantees cuffs. Leaving in your car is off the table too, you’d be dubbed an important witness. There’s no way you can claim you drove by the carnage without noticing anything.

“I can help get you out of this debacle,” he offers. “We’re both seeking the same end — the return of Chrollo’s Hatsu. The latest recording I’ve obtained is most promising. So, I’d rather we don’t continue this conversation in prison. ♣”

Hisoka takes a step forward and extends his hand.

The security guards are getting closer, you think. There’s no time left.

And so you make your choice.

You didn’t think places like these existed outside of the movies, or maybe you just don’t get around enough.

You’ve found yourself in what you can only describe as a biker’s bar. The decor is old-fashioned, slightly worn yet authentic. There are pool tables, too many televisions to count, and a functioning jukebox nestled in the corner. Rough-looking men wearing leather jackets make up the main clientele. Fortunately, it’s Hisoka who draws the most attention, his gaudy getup acting as a magnet for the eyes. No one pays you any mind.

For the second time this week, a weirdo treats you to drinks. The main difference is that this is a depressant and not a stimulant.

You take hearty sips to calm your nerves. All that happened feels so surreal, like a collection of grotesque images that would be blurred out in a documentary. This is exactly what you wanted to avoid. You want to be normal, untethered by the oddity that is Nen, the ‘world’ Chrollo inhabits. You decided long ago that nothing good can come from it. Maybe if you were more adventurous, prone to taking high risks for high rewards.

But you’re not.

Endless money, power, and influence don’t sound appealing. Sure, there’s an allure initially, until you consider reality. Lots of money means either lots of taxes or lots of tax evasion. You barely know what a W-2 form is, much less the hoops you’d have to jump through if your income exploded. Power and influence aren’t all they’re cracked up to be either. All that scheming to stay at the top would take away from what makes life truly worth living — reading Wikipedia articles and watching eight-hour-long videos analyzing a video game from two decades ago.

“Holy shit,” you press pause on the cassette recorder. “This Abengane guy’s the real deal.”

“Oh?”

“He’s familiar with getting rid o’ Nen. During his… huh, what’s it called again… oh. Yeah. Audition. Durin’ his audition for Greedy Island—”

“ —Greed Island.”

You wave his correction off.

“—Yeah, yeah, whatever. But, basically, he’s legit. How’d ya even come across this?”

“Magic. ♥”

You make a face. “Is everyone who uses Nen annoying?”

“Some more than others.”

Speak of the devil. Craning your neck, you’re met with piercing gray eyes. Unlike Hisoka, Chrollo isn’t dressed like he’s auditioning for the circus. Instead, he comes across as a guy who’s going to pitch the worst idea for a startup you’ve ever heard. He’s wearing a dark blazer with a gray turtleneck beneath it, along with white pants and black loafers. You’re about to make your joke known when something about Chrollo’s demeanor changes your mind. Intensity pours off him in waves, giving you pause.

“Good news, boss. We found your exorcist.”

The title Hisoka uses to refer to him has you tilting your head. He did refer to himself as Chrollo’s ‘colleague,’ but the word boss implies hierarchy.

“I heard,” Chrollo smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m surprised you’re not rushing back to Greed Island to track him down.”

He slides into the booth beside you while never looking away from Hisoka. The tension brewing in the air perplexes you. Shouldn’t this news be a cause for celebration? You’ve helped Chrollo search for a Nen exorcist for months now. Chrollo’s been searching for a Nen exorcist for months now. You’re uncertain what reaction you expected, but it certainly wasn’t this.

“All in due time. I’d hate to cut my time with your little assistant short.”

Hisoka makes a point of looking you up and down.

Somehow, Hisoka has made Chrollo seem normal by comparison. Disliking the attention, you reach for your drink, only to notice how light it is. Have you already drunk that much? While inspecting the near-empty glass, you realize the room’s starting to feel warm. The stress of what you endured must’ve impaired your judgment.

What time is it, anyway? Do I have work tomorrow?

Your watch reads 2:05 a.m.

Shit.

“I need— need to get going…”

“Why the rush?” Hisoka questions. “Things were just starting to get interesting. ♥”

You ignore him and stare Chrollo down, waiting for him to move aside so you can leave. Instead of getting up, he leans closer, pursing his lips. This is the closest you’ve ever been to him. Heat creeps over your face, from your cheeks to your ears. There’s no denying that the bastard’s handsome. Your friends love teasing you about him for that very reason. They never believe your insistence on having a ‘strictly platonic’ relationship, some even have bets for when you’ll end up together.

Maybe you would’ve considered it if you didn’t know about his Nen proficiency.

There aren’t any readily available statistics for Nen, but if you had to guess, you’d say most of the population is ignorant of its existence. People who do know about the Hunter’s Association consider it a private enterprise that specializes in exploration and taking on contract jobs. According to Chrollo, this is by design. You can barely go about your day pretending there aren’t superhumans roaming the planet, doing all sorts of crazy nonsense.

Society would plunge into chaos if the knowledge reached them.

You hear what sounds like your name coming from underwater.

Blinking sluggishly, you discover Chrollo’s hand on your shoulder. “Hm? What?”

“I’ve been calling your name,” he speaks languidly, likely for your benefit. “Are you alright?”

“Well…” you trail off, pondering the question. “... Mm, yeah, probably not. I gotta get home, and�� god, my car— it’s still back there. I don’t want… I can’t…”

The anxiety you thought you buried resuscitates itself. It’s dull compared to earlier, yet your breathing grows shallow and your hands feel clammy. Your intenses churn like a parasite had been embedded inside. Everything feels far away, as if you’re in a dream, physically present yet mentally adrift.

You could’ve died.

You almost died.

You’d fought desperately to scrub your mind of this knowledge, but the bottle can only do so much.

“Say, Chrollo,” with a nearly imperceptible motion, Hisoka summons a playing card between his middle and pointer fingers. “If I were to slice her pretty neck, what would you do?”

The old-fashioned glass Hisoka had been sipping from cracks.

Pressure invades the air like a thick, heady fog, so tangible in its potency, that the chatter elsewhere dies down. The sudden silence allows for the clinging of billiard balls to reverberate throughout. Patrons glance around, vaguely aware that something is wrong, yet ultimately unable to identify the source. This primal sense of foreboding evaporates as swiftly as it arrives. The lively atmosphere reemerges, until all present seem to have forgotten anything unusual ever occurred.

Hisoka absentmindedly cleans up the glass shards, piling them into the corner while Chrollo drums his fingers along the table. Chrollo’s jaw is set and the skin between his eyes is pinched in contemplation.

Hisoka lets out an exaggerated sigh. “This is turning into a bore. I was confident you’d lose your cool, even if just a bit…”

“Pathetic.”

The unexpected vitriol has them both turning their heads in your direction. Chrollo blinks, while Hisoka tilts his head, staring at you owlishly.

He points to himself. “Me?”

“Yeah, you! You’re like— one of those birds, those showoff birds… dancing with your colorful feathers… ‘nd stuff…” your speech isn’t the most coherent, unaided by the irritation that’s boiling your blood. You leer at him, fed up with everything, especially whatever schemes he’s roped you into. A rough picture is presenting itself, one stroke at a time. To Hisoka, you’re nothing more than glorified bait. You don’t know if he played a role in engineering the evening’s events, but it wouldn’t be a surprise.

At the very least, he admitted to following you. Even if he was a third party, he could’ve disposed of the impending threat. Instead, he waited, exposing you to bloodshed for his own ends. You wish you could come up with a more scathing insult. Unfortunately, your temple is throbbing and clear enunciation grows harder as your body digests the liquor you inhaled.

Hisoka looks at Chrollo. “I’m a bird?”

“She’s calling your bluff,” Chrollo clarifies. “Had you intended to follow up on your threat, she’d know.”

You’re glad Chrollo realized what you were going for. The diatribe sounded better in your head. Nonetheless, he’s communicated the essence of things, lacking as it is in panache. Hisoka hums, eyeing you like you’d make for a fine appetizer before the main course.

“You must have kept that detail from me on purpose. What an intriguing ability. ♥”

Chrollo brushes aside his comment and refocuses his attention on you. “I’ll drive you home.”

“But my car—”

“I’ll handle it,” Chrollo reassures.

He slides out from the booth and stares at you expectantly. You get the sense that trying his patience isn’t a good idea; his encounter with Hisoka must have soured his mood. He helps steady you as you stand, securing his arm behind your back. Neither of you acknowledges Hisoka while making for the door, though you can feel his eyes tracking your every movement.

Upon emerging from the bar, the cool air you deplored earlier feels like a godsend. You hear cars rushing up and down the street, indicating the presence of a highway. Other than that, you don’t recognize the area. It’s a small, decrepit outlet, featuring shops plastered with neon signs and bars over the windows.

Chrollo ushers you in the direction of a black, unmarked McLaren.

“If you’re gonna do all that, at least get a less basic color… like pink…”

“I’ll give it some thought.”

Once you’re in the passenger seat, he fixes the strap of your purse and then buckles you in. It isn’t long until you’re on the road. He stays in the slow lane, mindful to avoid abrupt motions. You recline back and rest your head, hugging your arms close to your body. At the next red light, he sheds his coat, draping it over your person. The cashmere fabric is soft on your skin, embedded with his cologne and warmth. This, paired with the low hum of the engine has your eyelids growing heavy. You try resisting the temptation.

“Thank you.”

“Hm? For what?”

“... Are you serious?” you murmur. “For comin’ to get me.”

“Of course.”

Relief rushes over you as the surrounding area becomes recognizable. Traffic is nonexistent this time of night, it shouldn’t be but a few more minutes until you’re home. Then you can crash out on your bed and deal with the existential weight of reality in the morning. Work can fire you for all you care, you just want to sleep. If you were on your deathbed, you’re ninety percent positive they’d ask you to find shift coverage before you croaked.

Chrollo pulls into your apartment complex, parking as close to the entrance as he can.

You fiddle with your seatbelt, intending to make the rest of the trip by yourself.

He places his large, calloused hand over yours, preventing further progress.

“... Chrollo?”

He doesn’t respond. His thumb rubs slow, steady circles against your skin. You swallow a growing lump in your throat. He hasn’t been himself all night. Or, to be more precise, he’s showing you a side of himself he’s hitherto kept hidden. You always knew there was more to him than he let on. You never wanted to open that Pandora's box, lest your plans be jeopardized. Playing with fire has its risks, yet cauterizing your personal wounds took priority. You don’t know if you have the right to pray the rest of your being doesn’t go up in flames.

“I assume you’re aware of my fondness for you?”

“I— well…” you stumble over your words, then meekly ask, “Is now really a good time for this?”

Chrollo lowers his head and smiles. “No, I suppose not.”

An uncomfortable silence hangs in the air.

“One more question, then I’ll let you go,” he looks up at you through thick lashes, an enigmatic gleam passing over his eyes. “Do I frighten you?”

Your body tenses. He addresses you so softly, so sweetly, had you not witnessed his mouth moving, you would’ve mistaken his voice for belonging to another. Your facilities aren’t functional enough to properly process his query. Perhaps that’s the point — him cornering you at this vulnerable junction. You don’t get why. You don’t think you could even if you were sober.

Chrollo, for his part, seems to acknowledge he won’t get far in your current state.

Or maybe he gleaned his answer.

He lifts your hand to his lips, where he presses a lingering kiss. You can’t bring yourself to be the first to pull away. He lingers a while longer, as if stuck in a trance. When he does part, the skin tingles in his absence.

“I’ll be in touch.”

For the past week, you’ve carried on as if nothing ever happened.

It’s easier this way. There are instances where your performance is threatened, like when you ran across a news article detailing the ‘grisly murder of two men at a parking garage on 9th St,’ yet these lapses can be smoothed over. Ignore, distract, forget. This cycle lends you a credence of normalcy and eases you back into everyday life.

You haven’t seen Chrollo since that night. You suppose he’s preoccupied with his arrangements to meet the Nen exorcist. While you don’t know the specifics, you imagine he’ll have to meet this Abengane in person. In the recording, he addressed two men — named Battera and Tsezguerra — where he proved himself qualified to enter ‘Greed Island.’ Aside from a few anonymous forums, information on this mythical game is sparse. All you know is that the price is exorbitant and that Battera obsessively tracks down every copy available.

Wherever there’s Nen, things inevitably get weird, you think.

You begin tidying up your apartment. First is drying off the dishes, which saw their first use all week for a much-needed home-cooked meal. While doing so, your phone vibrates. You throw the damp rag down in a hurry and check the screen. All you find is a notification about your upcoming menstrual cycle. Sighing, you put your phone down on the counter.

Chrollo had been truthful when he promised to take your Hatsu for assisting in the return of his. A part of you is relieved by his absence; the other is frustrated. You want to get this over with. It’s like when you have an appointment later in the day and spend the time leading up to it in a limbo, not wanting to get involved in anything until the commitment is over. Is it possible he already took it? Curious, you hold your dominant hand out. You haven’t used Instant Replay since the night at the biker’s bar.

Aura surges through you, concentrating at the palm of your hand. Much to your disappointment, the light pink cassette tape appears. Maybe it no longer works? As a test, you rewind the recording of the audio Chrollo provided at the café. Once primed, you press play, listening attentively for certain cues.

“It is my great honor to profess that I, Lilith, can purge you of any ailment, even scourges derived from Nen — for a small donation of…”

The self-proclaimed Mistress of Panaceas sounds increasingly garbled as her lies surface. Clicking your tongue, you deactivate your ability. Everything remains operational. You don’t know what you expected, you’ve overheard the telltale sounds of lying the past few days. It just hasn’t been directed at you, which weakens the effect.

Will you really have to endure this the rest of your life?

Shortly into resuming your task, there’s a knock at your door.

You ignore it, not in the mood to deal with a neighbor asking for something. After thirty or so seconds, there’s another round of knocking. You suppress a groan. Why can’t the world sense that you’re moody and let you brood in peace? Trudging over, you try to put on a pleasant face, unwilling to lash out on others even if you’re in a terrible mood. Erring on the side of caution, you glance out the peephole.

Upon doing so, you almost lose your balance.

…

He must’ve decided he kept you waiting long enough.

#chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #hxh x reader #yandere hxh x reader #chrollo brainrot #my stuff

518 notes · View notes

yes-no-maybe-soo · 29 days ago

Text

Reminder that Sylus was released with:

6 4 stars & 6 3 stars, while the OG3 had 18 of each

1 bond, while the OG3 had 2

1 anecdote, while the OG3 had 3

1 free companion, while the OG3 had 3

No photobooth background. He only just got it after 6 months

No full stellactrum, as opposed to the OG3. For the longest time, Sylus was missing yellow and red— now he has 2 yellow and 1 red. Of those, 1 yellow was a promise card, thus locked behind a paywall and now no longer available.

In total, as of right now, Sylus has 34 cards, meaning that he still, after half a year, has less cards than the OG3 had upon release (41). Bear in mind that a number of these 34 cards were limited and thus no longer obtainable, while another portion of them are only obtainable through the Silver/Radiant Galaxy. So for new & F2p players, unless they are very lucky, they'll have to make due with the 17 standard cards available. Which makes real progress impossible. Sylus is not only P2W but basically P2P. If you missed out on his limited 5 stars and especially his second myth? You're fucked. B/c he still doesn't have his green 4 star solar pair.

The discrepancy in number of memories compared to the other LIs also means that the likelihood of pulling Sylus cards is drastically lower than the others — ~11-12% VS ~30% according to calculations made by a number of different players both on the CN and global side.

Presumably because of his puny amount of cards, Sylus' orbits are locked at level 80. That means that he has 70 less floors than the OG3. This, paired with his low number of cards, means that raising affinity becomes extremely difficult after a certain point, especially if you can't afford to spend a lot of money.

In addition, Sylus girlies need to spend twice the amount of stamina as other girlies in order to level up cards. Why? Because, in contrast to the OG3, he does not have a Bounty Boss dedicated to his prime Stellas (in his case Pink and Green). This means that we have to fight both Snoozer and Lemonette if we want to level up the majority of his cards.

Sylus girlies have been reaching out to customer service for months about these issues, and have either been given nothingburger replies or been totally ignored. There have been exactly 0 meaningful communication on Paperfold's side. No one is asking them to give us what we're missing tomorrow, but we are asking for some confirmation that our valid concerns are being heard and that the issue will be rectified. But so far... nothing. All that the CN girlies have received as of yet are attempted gaslighting and subtle threats. Is this how you treat any — much less your objectively highest paying — consumers?

I hope everyone can see how blatantly unfair all of this is, and understand why such a large number of us are angry and upset. We have been called greedy and ungrateful, but tell me, how is asking for fairness, for the bare minimum, greedy or ungrateful? We have never asked for special treatment, only equal treatment. The argument that all of this discrepancy in basic content is due to Sylus being "new" has never been and will never be valid.

To end this post on a somewhat hopeful note, the current boycott by the CN Sylus girlies have resulted in a significant drop in daily revenue. One can only hope that this will finally make Paperfold listen and rectify this mess, or at least communicate with their consumers,

Let me remind you that while this issue currently only affects Sylus mains, it will eventually come to affect all of us. B/c if they can get away with this behaviour with one character, then I guarantee you that the other LIs will be next. In fact, from the look of things, Caleb will receive the same treatment.

If you as a global player wish to help do something about all of this, I'd highly recommend writing an email to the company ([email protected]). Additionally, there is talk of organizing a petition in support of the CN girlies, the link to which I will post on my blog, should it become a reality. While it might be true that global players unfortunately hold little sway, doing something is still better than doing nothing.

If you're curious to learn more, please refer to my pinned post for links and additional info on the situation.

Finally, if you've read all of this, thank you 🙏 I appreciate you for taking the time.

#sylus #lads #love and deepspace #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus lads #sylus love and deepspace #xavier lads #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel lads #rafayel love and deepspace #zayne lads #zayne love and deepspace #caleb lads #caleb love and deepspace

296 notes · View notes

winterstelltales · 2 months ago

Text

Toothache [zayne x dentist!reader]

word count: 1k content: fluff, toothaches, dentist!reader, established relationship notes: no proof reading

Despite him devouring sweets like he’s on a personal mission to bankrupt every candy store, Zayne usually did his best to take care of his oral hygiene. But even then, he couldn’t escape the fallout from all the sugar he inhaled.

Acrually his day was super awful. First, he had to wake up with a horrible toothache, then he had to drink his coffee without sugar. And the large banner placed outside his favorite café announcing the new sweets definitely wasn’t helping either. He almost had pulled over, but the constant ache on the side of his mouth had made him stop.

The hospital staff was quick to notice his unusual silence. It wasn’t that he talked a lot, but still it was noticeable when he had been communicating with nothing but head nods and shakes all day. It was only Greyson who was brave enough to ask him what was going on.

“Just a toothache,” Zayne had dismissed their concerns as he walked towards to the ward.

Zayne hoped the pain would fade away by the end of the day.

His assistant stopped in his tracks, watching him walking out, “Didn't he just visit the dentist last week?”

It didn’t.

So now he was reluctantly making an appointment to the dentist after his shift. His hand hovering over the call button, nervously recalling the warning he had gotten from a certain person a week ago.

It wasn’t that he was afraid to go the dentist, okay, maybe a bit, but the real reason behind his hesitation was his dentist—his lovely fiancé—who was actually very sweet and considerate... until he consumed ungodly amounts of sweets, despite her warnings, and somehow managed to get two toothaches a week apart.

“Good evening, you've reached Akso Dental Clinic. How may I assist you today?” the familiar voice of the receptionist drifted through the receiver.

“Hello Miss Chen, it’s Zayne,” he cleared his throat slightly, “I need to make an appointment, is she available?”

There’s a small silence on the other side, Zayne tapped his pen on the table, the soft sounds echoing in the quiet room.

“Dr. Zayne! Yes of course, you're in luck, there was a cancellation this afternoon,” the receptionist said cheerfully. "Would you like me to book you in for that time?”

“Yes please, thank you.”

He ends the call after confirming the time, his thumb coming up to rub the side of his cheek.

Soon enough the call he dreads comes in. The ringtone he had set specifically for you breaks the silence of his office. Yet a smile appears on his lips as he sees your face light up the screen.

“Are you serious?” was the first thing he hears when he answers the phone.

he thinks you sound like an angry kitten, the corners of his mouth quirks up as he speaks.

“About marrying you? Yes I am.”

“You!” There’s a huff on the other side of the line, and he chuckles, “That’s not what I meant. What do you mean by another appointment? It hasn’t even been a week!”

“Actually it’s been—”

“Stop right there mister, I swear you’re in deep trouble,” Zayne listens as you speak, imagining you walking around your office as you lecture him.

It feels weirdly refreshing, the roles reversed, where he’s the one getting lectured about his health, and Zayne can't help but agree with everything you say. His heart warms at the sound of your voice, angry yet worried over him.

“You better be here right on time, and don’t you dare consume even a single granule of sugar during that time,” you warned, your tone firm.

“Yes ma’am” Zayne nods, even though you can’t see.

The elevator ding as he arrives on your floor and the receptionist looks up almost immediately, a bright smile plastered on her lips as she opens her mouth to speak.

“You can go right in, Dr. Zayne,” She says, motioning towards the treatment room.

Zayne stops in front of the room, staring at your name displayed on the surface before knocking twice.

“Come in,” Your voice sounds muffled from the other side of the door.

Zayne steps into the bright room, the familiar sterile smell of antiseptic invading his nose almost immediately. His eyes settle on you, sitting on the chair wearing your pristine white coat.

You raised your eyebrow at him, swiveling your chair so you can see him clearly, “Come and sit down.”

Zayne’s mouth twitched as he walked toward you. Seeing you so bossy and serious was a rare sight, and he wanted to savor every moment. It was amusing, to say the least.

He didn’t realize he was staring at your face until you spoke.

He looked at the chair, looming in the middle of the room, looking too comfortable to be trusted, its cushioning is almost inviting, but he knew better. He laid down, eye squinting at the bright light pouring right down at him.

He saw your eyes softening and watched as you slightly adjusted the light away from his face.

“What?”

Zayne narrowed his eyes and glanced at the closed door, then grabbed your wrist, pulling you a bit closer.

“Is this doctor always rude to her patients?”

You scoffed, prying his fingers off your wrist and poked his cheek, making him hiss lightly.

“Only to the disobedient ones.”

You laughed softly as his lips formed a small pout.

“Open your mouth, please,” you watched as he obediently did as you asked. During the next few minutes you carefully examined him, all the while trying hard to ignore his eyes glued to your face, following every one of your movements.

“You don’t have to stare at me so intensely, you know," You said as you slowly took out the small metal mirror out of his mouth. Zayne stretched his jaw, trying to relieve the ache from having his mouth open for so long before replying, “What if I want to?”

He watched as a small flush crept up your neck, disappearing beneath your mask. You looked away, clearing your throat as you gathered your tools next to you.

“So what is it?” Zayne asked, eyeing the neatly arranged tray beside you.

“Well, it doesn’t look too bad, but I can tell your sweet tooth has been working overtime,” You answered him while giving him a pointed look, “The sensitivity you’re feeling is likely from overindulging in sugary treats, it’s just your enamel taking a hit.”

You spoke as you walked towards him again, “For now, I’ll apply a fluoride varnish to help protect your enamel and reduce sensitivity. Then we can have a chat about your sweet tooth after we get home.”

Zayne closed his eyes as you leaned over him, while a noise, suspiciously close to a whine, escaped his throat.

“All done,” You gave a pat on his cheek, leaning back and signalling him to clean himself up.

Zayne rubbed his jaw with fingertips, straightening himself up on the chair. He watched as you walked back to your desk and cleaned up some files on it before removing and hanging your coat on the hanger.

“You’re done for the day?”

“Yup,” You turn towards him as he throws his long legs to the side, sitting on the chair upright, “you’re my last patient.”

“Okay,” You smile softly, threading your fingers softly in his black strands before pulling his hair back, making him stare up at you, “but one condition.”

“I’m very lucky then,” Zayne says, extending his hand towards you. You grab his hand, and he immediately pulls you in, wrapping his arms snuggly around your waist. He buries his face in your stomach, breathing in before speaking in a muffled tone, “let me take you out tonight.”

“Hm?”

You lean closer to him and quickly flicks his forehead, “That’s your punishment, and no dessert,” you whisper before pecking his lips softly.

#love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #lnds zayne #lads zayne #lnds #lads #dr zayne #zayne #zayne x y/n #zayne x reader #lads x reader #zayne fics

280 notes · View notes

gatitties · 1 year ago

Text

War & crack

─Task Force 141 x young!reader

─Summary: some headcanons about your life working with TF141

─Warnings: cliché¿, reader is a gen z

Part two / Halloween special

so... I've been consuming some content about CoD and I know the least about the franchise but the few things I've read have been so good that I couldn't resist writing something too 🫢, sorry if something is out of character since I don't know many things

— You are a threat to society.

— Your parents sent you to the military in the hope that your bad behaviors would disappear, realistically, they were not prepared to be parents either.

— Parental neglect, what a surprise.

— You had many bad influences in your adolescence and free access to the Internet without parental control was like throwing gasoline on the fire.

— Theft, extortion, assault, harassment, banditry, disobedience to authority, fraud, driving without a license, breaking and entering, kidnapping, arson, arms trafficking...

— You had a good record of minor criminal records, the vast majority due to bad friends, but you were already an accomplice.

— Which led you to the fact that when you reached the age of majority, you were enlisted directly into the army without being able to have a choice.

— It wasn't as bad as you thought except for the amount of physical exercise you were subjected to, but you knew how to put up with it.

— Despite being young, in the three years that you served as a cadet, you were sent to many missions, perhaps with the hope of dying since the generals sent you to the front lines of the battle.

— You didn't care, you were feral, careless enough and craving adrenaline, you liked to dance with death in every fight.

— You were the first to run whenever you could to start the attack, after all, all you liked to do was hit, stab or use close-range weapons.

— You lost an arm because of that, you didn't care much because now you have a prosthesis with decorations to your liking.

— Then you were sent to Task Force 141.

— None of the boys expected someone like you, they definitely had a bit of a hard time adjusting to your personality.

— You were a strange combination between Ghost and Soap, going from being a grave to being an explosion of emotions at any moment.

— The first time you saw Ghost you thought he was giving you a side eye and you gave it back to him.

— Later you learned that it's his normal look but you give him the dead look every once in a while.

— Soap and you are not a good combination when you know each other better, he will just give you approval to all the stupid things you see on the internet.

— Gaz might join, but most of the time he just warns you that Price won't be amused.

— Price will look at you like a parent disgusted (but not surprised) by some of your nonsense.

— Confidence sucks, and when you're spouting darkly humorous jokes or about the ways you want to kill yourself because something goes wrong, Price isn't in that boat.

— It's not worth it if you justify it with 'my traumas, my jokes'.

— Honestly, everyone is worried about the number of times you've said you were going to kill yourself for the slightest inconvenience.

— They don't understand most of your current meme references, maybe Gaz, being the second youngest, will pick up on something.

— They were so confused with your attack tactics, because you had practically none, you just jumped in with luck to hit everything you could, which worked every time.

— You will train with Ghost because you are not aware of your surroundings when it comes to fighting.

— The first time they saw your prosthesis they thought a bullet had hit you in the arm, but when you laughed and removed the metal arm shouting 'everything is possible when you're physically disabled' they swallowed their concern.

— You show affection with punches, you punch Soap's shoulder, Gaz's back or Price's side, Ghost... you prefer to communicate with your eyes because the last time you punched him in a friendly way you almost ended up with your shoulder out of its place.

— They can't take you seriously, they really do try but it's impossible, you look like an impulsive teenager who they are babysitting even if you're in your twenties.

— At least it's like that outside the battlefield, you get more serious or focused on the missions.

— Gaz saves your ass whenever you get distracted, which is most of the time, you tell him that he has won heaven but if death wanted to kiss you you weren't going to refuse the offer.

— Seriously, stop with the jokes about your death or depression, Price will get you a psychologist.

— It seems like a joke but Ghost and you end up getting along quite well, it's a quiet and pleasant dynamic, without pressure.

— As with Soap, you know how to adapt a lot to everyone's personalities, as if you were a sponge that absorbs all the likes and disappointments of the boys to get along better.

— You don't give a shit about your own life but you're fighting tooth and nail to protect others.

— Which leads you to almost die once, on top of that, Price scolded you for jumping to try to save them, you didn't care, you'll do it again.

— Squeaks or bangs in the wee hours of the morning? It's you moving the few pieces of furniture in what you can call your own room.

— Someday you'll give the boys a heart attack (Ghost maybe not) because you walk in the dark at night since you tend to stay up late.

— Price will scold you for not sleeping well and drinking so many energy drinks or coffee.

— You will leave random objects in the boys' rooms, like, last time you bought little ducks of different colors and hid them.

— Price denies with a small smile when he sees a yellow duck with a cowboy hat as a paperweight.

— Gaz laughs when he sees a blue duck with an aviator hat in the drawer where he kept his records.

— Soap finds a yellow duck with an umbrella hat next to his bath stuff and fiddles with it when he has time for a long bath.

— Ghost narrows his eyes at the sight of a black duck with sunglasses and gold chains under a pile of clothes in his room, he sighs leaving it in the small window of his room as decoration.

— You are strictly prohibited from bringing any type of animal into the base of operations as a pet, once you wanted to have a raccoon, a tarantula, a snake, you even named a cockroach you saw in the kitchen.

—Just- no.

— So you chose to have a carnivorous plant as a pet, it was acceptable at least.

— You are also prohibited from cooking without supervision.

— You're like a new world for them, but honestly, they wouldn't know what they would do if something happened to you now that you've earned their love.

2K notes · View notes

parvuls · 7 months ago

Text

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subj: Restriction on Pies and Pastries Supply to PVD Falconers

Mr. Eric Bittle,

It has recently been brought to my attention that you are responsible for the pies and various pastries that have been delivered to members of the NHL team, the Providence Falconers. Unfortunately, the high fat content found in pies and the like poses a significant risk to athletes' physical fitness. It is vital for hockey players to maintain optimal physical condition to ensure their peak performance on the ice, and therefore the team’s win.

As it is my duty to oversee their dietary requirements, I ask you to cease the distribution of such food items to the members of the team immediately.

Thank you for your cooperation,

Jack Zimmermann

Providence Falconers Nutritionist | Providence, RI

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subj: Re: Restriction on Pies and Pastries Supply to PVD Falconers

Dear Mr. Zimmermann,

It’s really nice to make your acquaintance. I actually had to message Alexei just to make sure this wasn’t some prank from one of my friends - I couldn’t believe an actual NHL staff member reached out to me! He assured me you’re the real thing, however (although I’m not sure how you got my school contact info?).

About the pies - you have nothing to worry about. Firstly, I only use the very best products, so anything your boys are getting from me is high quality. Second of all, I explicitly told the boys that I would only make the deliveries on cheat days. They better be smarter than to lie to me.

I’m a big fan of the Falconers, and I would never do anything to harm their chances! On the contrary, I do believe having a pie waiting for you at the end of a hard week gives more motivation for training. So actually, I’m helping y’all out :)

You’re very welcome, and good luck against the Devils!

Eric

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subj: Re: Re: Restriction on Pies and Pastries Supply to PVD Falconers

Mr. Bittle,

I appreciate your reply. However, I feel that I have not made my stance clear enough.

Hockey is a very demanding sport. Cheat meals are meant to benefit our players, not provide them with an excuse to consume excessive amounts of sugar and fat. Nine of our players had received deliveries from you in the last 3 months. In my estimations, that comes to about 216 baked pies.

You must not be aware of this, but regular consumption of saturated fat can lead to heart disease and stroke. I advise you to look into investing your time in less harmful pursuits. I attached a list of recommendations for preferable culinary interests and other hobbies (if you eat even a portion of what you make, I highly recommend taking an interest in physical activity).

Please write back to me with confirmation that you will no longer deliver to members of this team.

Sincerely,

Jack Zimmermann

Providence Falconers Nutritionist | Providence, RI

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subj: Re: Re: Re: Restriction on Pies and Pastries Supply to PVD Falconers

Mr. Zimmermann,

Unfortunately, I can make no such promises. Your players are counting on me, and I’d hate letting those sweet boys down. But just give it a few more months! You’ll see their game won’t be affected, and we could put all this behind us. In fact, I bet you’ll even see some improvement :)

Thank you for your concern, but it’s honestly not needed. I’m definitely getting enough physical activity, haha. Actually, I’m the captain of a Division I NCAA ice hockey team. And look, I’m doing just fine!

Also, I did take a look at your list. Flourless protein brownies?? Poor man. If that is what you consider a dessert, it’s no wonder you’ve got all these misguided views on pies. I had real brownies delivered just for you this morning, so you can taste the difference yourself. If they’re not on your desk by this afternoon, Thirdy or Poots must’ve gotten to them. Please let me know so I can make another batch.

All the best,

Eric

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subj: Final Request to Discontinue Pastry Deliveries

Mr. Bittle,

You’re a hockey player who bakes a dozen pies a month in his free time? This is unacceptable for a sports team on any level. If possible, I would like the name of your team and your coach. Your staff should be made aware of the risks involved in not supervising their players’ health. I am more than willing to offer my services for a free-of-charge seminar about nutrition.

I have made my position about the deliveries very clear. If you cannot assure me of your cooperation, I will be forced to speak to security and restrict entry of food into our facilities without my approval.

I don’t wish to resort to forbidding you from future contact with team members, but if it is in the best interest of the team’s success, I will.

Good day,

Jack Zimmermann

Providence Falconers Nutritionist | Providence, RI

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subj: (no subject)

Dear Jack Zimmermann,

I would like to see you try.

Bless you heart,

Eric Bittle

#omgcp #zimbits #pavfics #expunging my docs so this made it to tblr. I'm not really here

262 notes · View notes

curio-queries · 6 months ago

Text

ARE YOU SURE?!

Production Notes from eps 1 & 2

At this time, I'm not planning to do full response posts for these episodes. Maybe once I'm done with my Run BTS series but for now here's some production thoughts.

My initial thoughts are they've done an excellent job of merging the concepts for Bon Voyage and In The Soop while also adjusting for a reduction of members from seven to two.

To really understand this though, let's talk about some of the logistical requirements and goals of the previous shows for comparison.

Logistical Assumptions

So I think y'all do realize that there is SOME amount of planning that has to happen for a show like this to be made but honestly...the way some of you talk, it's like you think this footage just magically appears in front of an editor, capturing whatever the members happened to wander into. These aren't self-recorded vlogs. This is a full production with a crew, a budget, and a deliverable requirement; just like any other TV show.

One of the cutest moments for me was at the brewery when JM was teasing JK about a summary of what the show about. I KNOW this was the 5 second explanation that both of them would have had to say/hear dozens of times while pitching the show. That's what's so endearing about the way JM says it and JKs reaction.

They also know that statements like that, captured during filming often end up in promos. All the members are very aware as they're being filmed what footage ends up being used. We've heard them time and time again, 'please use this as the thumbnail', 'please keep this in', etc.

Jimin has always been the most vocal about questioning if the content works for their intended purpose. How many times have we heard him say 'can this even be used?' or 'this will be cut'. Usually it sounds to me like he's aware the footage they're getting in the moment doesn't align with the predetermined plan. But as is common with the footage we getnof the members, even though it wasn't according to plan, doesn't mean it's not releaseable.

The main point of JMs AYS concerns being his sickness. I'm sure he thought the show was in jeopardy of not fulfilling their deliverable requirements since it would be difficult to completely edit out. There is a legitimate concern that if they aren't able provide the agreed-upon footage, the show would never air. I'll talk more about this in my section on the edit.

For now, here's a list of SOME of the basics that have to be managed for y'all to keep in mind when consuming any kind of produced content.

Camera management: How many and what kinds of cameras need to be brought along? Are there special operators required like a drone operator. How often is the footage saved. How is it backed up? When and where are batteries charged? Who locations require early access so the crew can place stationary cameras prior to the member's arrival.

Sound management: Someone is making sure the microphones are charged, and capturing correctly. Being mic'd up is one of the easiest indicators of when the show is actively being filmed or not.

Security: this is BTS. The members didn't go anywhere without a security consultation and discussion of requirements.

Crew management: These are people that have to have places to eat, sleep, and have time off as well. They don't just vanish into thin air as soon as their job is done.

Location approval and tax requirements: Every country in the world has different regulations, incentives, and permits to be managed. The US varies these laws state-by-state.

Budget: Businesses don't stay in business by not managing the finances. We can talk more about this if anyone's interested but there are definitely some interesting points with how much on-screen time we got over the years regarding members' spending on the shows.

There's more but let's leave it at the for the moment and talk more about why I think this show was such a good blend of Bon Voyage and In The Soop from a production standpoint.

What was the initial goal of Bon Voyage?

I believe it was to promote the band and the members to viewers by giving us access to what it would be like to travel to various destinations around the globe. They knew the episodes still needed a catalyst though so there were various preplanned activities and games to motivate the editorial narrative.

BV1 was very experimental as they were obviously managing the challenges of such a production. There was a heavy emphasis on trying to make the members seem like regular ppl and seeing how they would tackle the problems many of us face with travel, chiefly budgetary and managing how to feed all of the travelers with strict spending limits.

BV2 completely game-ified the concept with the mini challenges and breaking everyone into different groups. It's very clear that this is not the strategy they preferred as BV3 was much lighter on the control. There were still some structured activities and events but the members were experienced enough to bring forth some of these moments themselves during the shoot rather than as a completely planned itinerary.

BV4 was a continuation of this with us also getting footage of the members being included in the event planning as well. I'm not saying they didn't have input in the planning of the previous seasons but by this point, production knew the members understood the requirements of a successful show as well as many of the necessary logistics. But it was still a travel show with some key events to fuel the storytelling.

How about In The Soop?

Enter pandemic. They obviously still wanted to do another show once they worked out what was permissible to film at the time. But now the changing of locations would not be a part of the engine. How were they going to ensure they still had a viable show? They did put in place a semblance of their previous formula with that silly daily schedule (that was ignored nearly to the point of being completely edited out) and a couple of events like the 94s mountain hike and vhope's car drive. But overall, they realized they had to rely purely on the members to find story moments and insure they were captured. Their trust was rewarded though and ITS1 was a hit.

Now ITS2 is a more interesting case. I do believe it may have started with the same intent as season 1, but it must not have been long in the pre-planning stage before a new goal was added: controlled access of a BTS tourism destination. I'm sure I'll go further into this topic whenever I do finally make posts on this series, but it's very plain to even the casual fan that the ITS2 location was a planned financial investment.

Enough about the location though, what were the filming objectives? Honestly? Not much. The members were clearly ready for a break and were mired in the uncertainties of the time period. Balancing the focus of the english-solo-songs era with the preparations for ch.2 solo activities resulted in an odd lack of direction for the members, which is evident in the show. Yes, there are great moments and segments but there's no progression and very little footage of all the members all together except during certain meals.

But ITS2 is still hailed as enough of a success that there was justification to add to the franchise with Tae's friendship installment.

But what does all this mean for Are You Sure?

We'd heard from many of the members during ch.2 that they would like to continue Bon Voyage so it honestly wasn't surprising that we'd eventually get another travel show featuring our beloved BTS members. Early in episode 1 of AYS, Jungkook says he's never traveled so loosely before. However this show was justified, it definitely wasn't planned to be another hyper-detailed barrage of JM & JK going from activity-to-activity like early BV but it also couldn't be as aimless as ITS. For as long as the conversation was surrounding the name of the show, we never hear them suggest Bon Voyage 5 because AYS was never intended to be another installment of that series.

This is why I said AYS is a perfect mesh of the two kinds of shows. Granted, the first episodes definitely had some unexpected obstacles due to the unexpected health concerns but I think the production team managed it well. Although, I'm convinced there's at least one activity they did have planned that had to get scrapped to let our poor guys rest and recuperate. I also wouldn't be surprised if by the time they started filming in the US, they hadn't locked another destination and schedule with how unsure JM & JK are when talking about the scope of the show. (And I hope we get some update on the poor motorcycle, I want to know how it got where it needed to be from the rainy grocery parking lot).

The Edit

The overall tone of the show is very lighthearted. Kind of surprisingly so for me. It's not the vibe I would have necessarily expected but it's one of the points that leads me to say they have merged BV and ITS so wonderfully.

A major aspect of BTS's content is usually the chaos and shenanigans the surround the members. Now much of that is emphasized in the context of one of these shows but I honestly wouldn't have been surprised if the edit had tried to make up for the lowered member count. Instead, it's a very laid-back edit. The quality and tone of the on-screen captions was world's different from some of the BV seasons (thank goodness!)

Now, about Jimin's illness. There's a reason why the coverage is cut the way it was to only bring us in on the story once both JM and JK started talking about it lightheartedly. If we'd had all of that footage chronologically, we also would have had building tension throughout the day's activities. But this way, we're able to enjoy the show per the original pitch as much as possible.

This show would have been planned during the time when the members were under heavy scrutiny for how successful they'd be as individuals and how their content will be received without the full seven members. Again, the way some of y'all talk about these shows, it's like you don't realize that the members are aware of how this content is structured. They are. They absolutely are.

Also, a big part of greenlighting AYS would have been a discussion of how it could be made with just 2 of the 7 members. JM and JK would have to take on a lot more of the burden since there wouldn't be other member to cut to. The solo vlogs we got at the beginning of ch.2 absolutely would have been used as a proof of concept. There are easy comparisons to make between JKs camping vlog and the camping scenes we got in these first AYS episodes.

Another key justification of the show could have been as promotional material for the current musical releases. While they did highlight quite a bit of both JK and JM's work in these episodes, the narrative definitely wasn't tilted in the direction of promotion. I love that because it's absolutely not what I would have expected.

What am I looking forward to for the remainder of AYS?

From a production standpoint, I'm already curious about the following:

Will there be any tonal shift? Specifically now that JM and JK have some uncertainties about the viability of their US adventure. Will it seem like they're compensating?

We know Tae is going to be in at least the next episode. How is this going to handled narratively and will there be any visible contradictions from that narrative in the production?

At what point was the final quantity of locations and shoots locked down? And when/if will JM and JK make mention of this.

If/How will the music promotion narrative shift? It's clear that this episode could not have been released until after MUSE's release once they decided to keep the footage of JK listening to Who. But when was that decision made?

What are your thoughts on the production of AYS so far?

Editing to add a link to my post on episode 3. Surprisingly I had a lot more to say!

Are You Sure?! Production notes from ep 3.

And there has been even more to say so here's a MasterList link

Are You Sure?! MasterList

#park jimin #jeon jungkook #Are you sure?!#AYS

161 notes · View notes

gloomwitchwrites · 11 months ago

Text

By the Belt (2 of 4)

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: established relationship, undressing, talking through it, praise, vaginal fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, cowgirl position

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Gaz tells you to take what you want.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // by the belt masterlist

The light on the bedside table is on. Its warm glow rolls out across the bedroom, illuminating the room enough to cast long shadows against the wall.

Kyle stands just shy of the end of the bed, his black suit jacket tossed onto the sheets. Tugging on the tie at his neck, Kyle’s gaze is focused on the phone in his hand. He’s tapping away, his cheeks slightly flushed with a rosy hue from the amount of alcohol the two of you have consumed this evening.

The top two buttons of his white dress shirt are open, revealing skin and the faintest fluff of chest hair. He sighs, tapping again, sending something out before opening up another message. It’s likely all work related, an aspect of him that never seems to shut off.

Slowly, you stalk from the bathroom doorway to Kyle in nothing but your lingerie. You’re already out of your dress and heels, only wanting for him to put his phone aside and relax. The moment you walk up to him, Kyle reaches out almost on instinct, his gaze still on his phone but his hand seeking you.

His palm makes contact with your bare skin, and you slide your fingers into the belt loops of his perfectly tailored dress pants. Pulling taut, you draw Kyle against you, bodies pressed close together.

Kyle’s gaze immediately shifts to you, the concern in the middle of his brow softening to affection. His mouth stretches into a smile that he only ever gives you.

“Baby girl,” he croons, the backs of his fingers tenderly skimming along the edge of your jaw. “You can have whatever you want.”

The two of you stand in the middle of the bedroom, pressed close, your hands between your bodies. It’s late, and the flow of traffic is almost non-existent. It’s unusually quiet, just your breath and his.

Kyle is the handsy one. He loves touching you, reaching for you at every possible moment. Sometimes it’s blatant, squeezing thigh and hip, while other times he is subtle with just passing touches.

“I want you,” you murmur, because it’s the truth, and you also want Kyle to relax, to be present in this moment. The entire evening has been a whirlwind.

Sometimes Kyle reaches for you and almost isn’t aware that he’s doing it. You are not nearly as generous or bold with your touches as he is, so sliding your fingers into the belt loops of his pants to pull him closer might come across as forward.

But Kyle doesn’t seem all that surprised. The sultry smile on his face is enough to send heat racing to the space between your legs.

“You want me,” he repeats back. Kyle doesn’t need to question your motives. His is aware of just how much you love him; of how much you like to just linger in his presence.

“I’ll always want you,” you murmur, tipping your head back as a silent invitation.

Kyle locks his phone and tosses it onto his suit jacket. “But how do you want me, love? Be specific. You can take what you want, but you need to tell me.” The fingers brushing at your jaw rotate, tracing the curve of your bottom lip. “Direct me,” he murmurs. How do you want it?”

The way he’s speaking to you doesn’t make the dominance in you flare. If anything, it drives you toward submission, to lay on your back and welcome him in until you feel him for the next few days.

Slowly, your fingers slide out of the loops, travel upward to undo the buttons on his shirt one at a time, revealing chiseled chest. Kyle does not move. He waits for you to help him out of it, to toss it onto the bed before transitioning to the front of his pants, undoing buckle, removing his belt, opening the front only to push it down his legs and hips. You stay down there, unlacing his dress shoes and rolling off his socks. They’re kicked off. Tosses to the side. Entirely forgotten as you return to standing.

The moment you’re staring into his face again, Kyle moves, sliding his arm around your waist, head dipping like he’s about to kiss you but pauses at the last second.

“Where do you want me?” he asks softly.

“On the bed.”

Kyle shakes his head. “Be specific.”

“Reclining,” you answer.

“That’s it, love.”

Kyle teasingly clips the underside of your chin before he picks up his phone and suit jacket, bringing them to the dresser and returning to the bed. He slides into the middle, leans back against the array of plush pillows, spreading his arms wide.

He is entirely naked. Completely bare. And Kyle hides nothing from your gaze. He is displaying himself, knowing that you’re absorbing it all, taking notice of the hardening length of him.

You crawl up the bed to straddle his lap. Kyle keeps his arms outstretched, not touching until you give him the next instruction. Your hands rest on his chest, pressing into him, lips coming together in a slow kiss.

“Touch me,” you murmur against his lips.

“How?”

You reach out and guide one of his hands between your legs. “Touch me here.”

Kyle lightly rubs his palm over your pussy through the fabric of your delicate lace underwear. He sighs deeply, one finger sliding underneath and then another before pushing it to the side.

He plays with you at first, exploring like he’s just now learning your body. Then, he isn’t. Then he is circling your clit in little swirls that draw up the gentle roar that sits low in your belly. Already, you need him, and Kyle knows this.

He moves away, testing to see how wet you are. Kyle moans softly when he finds your excitement dripping onto the tips of his fingers. One finger easily slides inside, and Kyle begins to pump casually, simulating sex, lightly curling the very tip to draw against that perfect spot inside you. His thumb takes up residence against your clit, moving in time with his pumping finger.

Your eyelids flutter, then shut as your back arches, moaning loudly.

“Is that what you want, love?” he murmurs, coaxing an answer from you with a perfectly placed stimulation of your clit.

“Yes,” you manage to breathe, the word stuttering out.

The orgasm is sharp and quick, giving you the release you need and yet driving your desire even higher.

Kyle slowly continues to pump his finger. “More?”

You shake your head. “I want something else.”

“What?” he asks, automatically.

Leaning back a bit, you reach behind you to grasp his cock, stroking him gently. Kyle groans, his hand not occupied between your legs reaching out to grasp your thigh, fingers digging into your flesh.

“You know what to do,” he says through gritted teeth.

With one hand around his cock to guide, you flex your hips up, slowly sinking down on him. You roll up, and then back down, hands returning to Kyle’s chest as you seat yourself entirely on him. The head of his cock sits deep, and your fingers dig into his chiseled pectorals.

Kyle’s eyelids and brow are soft as they gaze on you. Whimpering, you come up and go right back down, the angle hitting that sweet spot.

“Good,” he breathes. “Doing so well, love. Just like that.” You repeat the movement and Kyle fails to stifle a groan. “Fuck—oh, fuck. That’s right, sweetheart.”

His praise warms your skin and blood. Sliding your hands upward, you hold onto his shoulders, using them as leverage to rock and bounce back on him. Kyle’s breathing lengthens, nostrils flaring as he tries to retain control of himself. Kyle’s grip on your thigh changes. Moving closer toward your pelvis, Kyle finds your clit with his thumb, stroking it in just the way you need to, causing the muscles in your legs to quiver.

He sends you over the edge in moments.

“Kyle,” you groan, his name dripping from your lips to stain the air.

“Fucking hell, love,” he moans, his other hand sliding up to grab the back of your neck, keeping you anchored against him.

“Fuck me, Kyle. Please. Please.” You need to feel him everywhere, to remember the stretch of him inside you for days after.

Kyle answers by meeting each roll of your hips with an upward thrust. The two of you come together repeatedly until his own thighs tense beneath.

“Inside me. Please, Kyle. Please. Please.”

You’re begging at this point, the words falling into bursts of air that Kyle pulls from your body with each thrust of his hips.

He holds you flush against him as his release hits him. No words are spoken, just sounds that speak to pure contentment and bliss. Collapsing against him, Kyle wraps his arms around your back, holding you close, sinking further into the pillows and bedding, your bodies sticky and sweaty.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @miaraei @contractedcriteria

351 notes · View notes

eevees-hobbies · 8 months ago

Note

don't know if this counts as a request but ..

do you think kaji is into dacryphilia ? him n suo gives me sadistic vibes , to be honest .. ><

HAHHAHAHA, my first thirst. Bless you for this. I love this, anon!

Look, I need you to get out of my brain, ok? Because, yes, especially Suo. I’m writing a Suo smut fic currently, and your headcanon fits perfectly because it has devolved into the intense level of intimacy that he shares with you. I don’t want to give too much away, but…

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Hayato Suo, Fem!Reader x Ren Kaji, Dacryphilia, smut, overstimulation

—

Being loved by Hayato Suo is to be consumed by him. You better be someone who can handle the marathon of lovemaking that comes with him, or you’re going to feel like you just might fucking break.

It’s another level of love and intimacy; his tongue in the most sordid of places, his fingers unforgiving as they stroke your core, which has grown far too sensitive long ago. Maybe he’s teasing you because that's his nature, or perhaps it’s the manifestation of his addiction to you because, god to honest truth, he can’t get enough of any part of you, so he needs to savor the experience. I believe it is the latter more so than the former.

No one would blame you if hot tears formed at the corner of your eyes and started to pour down your cheeks as you beg him for release because fuck, Suo, it’s too much.

And you know what Suo will do? He’ll smile in your face, kiss those big, cute tears away, and say he knows you can take it—his girl can take anything. And to no shock to you—because you’ve done this song and dance before—he’ll continue to flick his wrist as his fingers curl against that spongy spot of your cunt, stealing orgasm upon orgasm from you. I really hope you can handle it because it either stops when not being inside of your abused cunt is just too painful for him, or time necessitates a quickie. If those conditions aren’t met? Good luck, friend.

Deep down, you know that seeing you cry is part of the experience for him. It’s just as arousing as seeing you come undone on his cock, so your whimpering and hiccuping through tears is an un(fortunate) reality of being intimate with Suo.

—

Now Ren Kaji? I think in any other scenario where Kaji finds you crying, he’s seeing red and hunting down the fucker who made you cry.

If he makes you cry because he snaps at you after having a bad day? He feels like absolute shit.

The exception? When he has you folded over on yourself in the mating press position. He’s so deep in your guts you swear you can taste the tip of his dick on your tongue—you aren’t thinking clearly to consider the complicated logistics of this, too busy being fucked stupid.

And so when something finally snaps in you, something that makes your body tremble, and your core tighten because he’s fucking you like he hates you, you feel warm streaks pour from your eyes, sliding through your hair because the position he has you in has gravity pulling them back. You’re crying so hard that everything in front of you, including Kaji, is a blur.

The first time this happened, he stopped, concerned that he had hurt you, but you assured him that this was anything but pain that you were experiencing, so now he’s familiar with making you a crying mess as he fucks you into the bed.

And, fuck, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find it hot. Because you crying means he’s doing a good job—he’s giving it to you so good and knowing that strokes his ego an unbelievable amount.

And fuck, you love his cock this much that you’re a crying mess? Damn, what is he going to do with you? He’ll grit his teeth and fuck you harder because the way you cry, the way you turn into a cute blubbering mess, makes him feel like a god, and he wants to see how many tears he can get out of you before either of you breaks.

—

Yeah, I think they’re into it.

Keep the thirsts coming!

#ren kaji smut #ren kaji #kaji ren x reader #ren kaji x reader #kaji x reader #hayato suo x reader #suo x reader #hayato suo #windbreaker smut #anon ask #eevee talks #eevee thirst

330 notes · View notes

doodle-pops · 1 year ago

Text

Kiss It Better

Elrond x reader

Kinktober 2023: Aphrodisiacs

Warnings: fem!reader, aphrodisiac, rough sex, marathon sex, manhandling, semi-public sex, Elrond being a tease

Words: 4.3k

Synopsis: When Elrond mistakenly adds aphrodisiacs to your sleep–inducing tea, your quest for a peaceful night’s rest takes an unexpected turn. Elrond, being understanding and patient, comes to your aid, ensuring you find the sleep you were looking for through rare methods.

List of Requests

“Oh dear!” Staring at the empty contents of the supposed bottle of wormwood powder and then lifting the actually clear glass of wormwood, Elrond’s tongue kissed his teeth at the accident he caused. A first–time mishap and on a grand scale, he was sure how the effects of the mistakenly emptied contents of what should have been wormwood, but accidentally giving lavender in a copious amount, would have. You were sitting impatiently, twirling around on his stool, complaining about feeling overly feverish and sensitive. To make matters better, it was approximately eight minutes since you drank the concoction he stirred up a storm to create.

There wasn’t much the healer could do aside from staring at the bottle, defeated before silently placing the empty jar onto the shelf and stepping away with concern in his eyes. Those brown eyes darted everywhere else to inspect for any other mistaken bottles of herbs and powders he may have accidentally mixed into the tea for your lethargy. His hands moved at the same rate his eyes followed, falling on every surface of empty bottles and out–of–place containers. Even the opened books were not spared from his investigation, should he have unknowingly flipped to the wrong page, he might as well consider.

“This,” he sighed as he reached for another jar he was sure of using, this time labelled incorrectly once he smelt the contents within and became aware of it being another floral powder, “will get me into trouble once the higher effects begin to kick in. Though, it should have begun…” His eyes trailed off the half–filled jar to rush towards the page where the instructions lay before him. For a second, just a second, Elrond was almost certain that the universe was playing tricks on his brain as he decoded the measurements written on the page.

Two teaspoons

One teaspoon

Two and half teaspoon

One tablespoon…

“Lord Elrond…” Your voice echoed annoyingly from the outer room as your temperature began to increase and the sensation of having clothes covering your body became irritating. You were confused about the effects of what his homey remedy for lethargy was giving off, far different from the usual teas you consumed within the past year. Now, fanning your face and neck while giving aggravated tugs to your dress, you whined to him once more. “Lord Elrond, please, what is happening?”

With a pregnant pause, his head cocked to the side and his ear flicked at the change in your tone, you were already under the fire. Deciding that it was wiser to keep the truth about his mistake under the radar, Elrond whisked himself out of the storeroom and into his office where he came across you dabbing a cloth dipped in the bowl of cooling waters along your neck. Regardless, the action appeared more provocative than intended as you ran the material along your elongated neck and parted your lips to release a long, quiet groan. Your ability to distinguish decorum with the flames building intensely within was absentminded. There was no time to stop and become self–aware of the performance you were putting on due to his slip–up.

Elrond on the other hand was unsure if to continue standing silently in the doorway and observe how far your actions would take you or snap you out of it and treat the issue. Shifting on his feet and taking a deep gulp as you wrung the cloth and allowed droplets of water to fall against your skin to provide coolness, your eyes opened and caught him staring with a jar in hand and his eyes honed on your confrontational display. “Lord Elrond,” you called out nonchalantly as though you were not lacking decorum, “what is happening to me? I thought you gave me a tea for my tiredness?”

Scepticism flooded his expression as he attempted to avoid your gaze, solely due to the siren look you threw and the disappointment of informing you of his blunder as a healer. Walking into the room, he stepped around the opposite side of the table and away from you to place the bottle of lavender at the centre. His palms were faced down and his head hung with his lips twisting, thinking of every possible solution and answer to return. “It…It would appear that—”

No, he couldn’t say that.

Cautiously rounding the table while his fingers trailed along the edge, he turned his focus to you as he approached you from your side and came to stand beside you. Wordlessly, he gingerly pried the cloth out your fingers, careful not to touch your skin and dabbed it across your forehead, making notes of your slight shivering and increased arousal. This was the bare minimal interaction with a cloth hindering skin–to–skin contact and you were already affected. Swiftly dipping the cloth into the bowl of cool water, he continued to dab at your forehead and the rest of your face, doing his best to avoid your neck to entice any behaviour.

His lips were pursed as he remained steadfast on applying the first step into solving your crisis, brown eyes following the motion of his hands until you began sighing too frequently. His eyes fell upon the bob of your throat and the parting of your lips the moment you shut your eyes to focus on the lingering sensation of his touch. It was then he decided it was a wrong idea to become close and personal to treat you.

“This is clearly a terrible idea,” he muttered, taking a step backwards and pondering on how to properly assess you.

“Elrond, forgive me, Lord Elrond,” you corrected and hopped off the stand to step forward, crossing the gap in three strides, “please just tell me what is happening and why does my body feel this…way.” At the end of your words, you began twitching, majorly at the junction where your thighs met your pelvis. The growing ache between your legs provoked you to squeeze your thighs together and shift from left to right.

Worry befell his eyes, and he bit the inside of his mouth at the progress of actions. “Alright, you need to sit and remain still, and refrain from touching me,” he ordered, frustratingly.

“Touching you?” You frowned and took three steps backwards to meet the stool.

Building a storm within the clustered spacing of his office, Elrond rapidly answered as he reached for a clean mortar and pestle, “Yes, no touching me because you might get the urge to do something like that to sedate the pain.” Having placed the instruments on the table not too far away, he placed his hands on his hips and turned to cast a worrisome look. “I made the wrong tea due to…mislabelling. I picked up the incorrect ingredients and gave you aphrodisiacs in extremely large doses.” His voice had shrunk at the end of his confession knowing fully well that you would blow a fuse.

“What?!” you shrieked. “Elrond, are you serious? I’m trying to gain hours sleeping, not sleeping around.”

He couldn’t help but find your statement to be entirely humorous as it slipped out and released a muted chuckle, hidden by the dipping of his head. “I apologise, the fault is entirely my own,” he clarified with a clearing of his throat. “However, if you can only sit still and allow me to cure it, you’ll soon be on your way to sleep.”

“And exactly how are you planning on curing this? Because to my unfortunate knowledge, somebody gave me aphrodisiacs in large quantities and claimed it was a new sleeping tea. Perhaps it wasn’t an accident and done on purpose. No wonder why I felt odd the minute I drank it,” you muttered with apprehension and cast a side eye at him. To blame Elrond was entirely not you and only the herbs taking its toll on your frustration. All in the act of attempting to have its purpose served.

Unaware of this being an effect, conversely, Elrond grew tired of your antics and snapped with fury in his voice, laced with weariness and concernment. “And I believe you have a way of solving this problem with all your complaining?” he challenged and slammed the mortar upon the table. “You seem to doubt my ability to remove the issue.”

“Of course, I do, especially when you appear as equally as weary as myself, I have every right to question your capabilities as a healer!” you reacted, shooting from your seat and standing beside him, shoulder to shoulder. “If you were the healer you claimed to be then I would not be in this situation—”

“Your pupils have dilated tremendously,” he whispered, causing his warm breath to fan your face prompting you to lean in closer unconsciously.

“So what?” you replied.

“And your pulse is becoming erratic,” he added, becoming aware of the proximity of your body.

“Let it—I don’t mind if it goes a bit high when I’m around you.” Fingers crawling up his arm, you kept eye contact with his gorgeous brown eyes and inched yourself closer until you wedged yourself in the gap between him and the table. Bodies pressing against each other, driving you insane, you reached out to hold him closer in an attempt to step away. Albeit, he wasn’t attempting to distance himself from your close–body figure, pressing against him.

“You’re thinking too much, Elrond,” your voice seduced while your finger reached his chin to tug it forward, mending the gap. “Just admit this was all a part of your plan and you desired me as much as I do. Just imagine,” you began, standing on your toes and placing your lips beside his ear, “how good it would feel to release all your tension in me. When was the last time you had a good time?”

“Y/N, think about this carefully,” he cautioned lowly, body shuddering when your lips kissed his earlobe and knowing that sense had disappeared the minute you consumed the tea. It was only a futile and last–resort attempt.

“Picture it Elrond,” you taunted and took his hand to wrap around your waist. “Us naked and entangled while you satisfy both our needs. Just think of how good you’ll fuck me.”

You proved the power and potency of the herbs and flowers was displayed by the rush of his arms instantly knocking all the parchment and instruments off in haste and hoisting you on the table. Tugging at your leggings and knickers until they were flung across the room, your bare legs met the cold air and his fingers. You trembled under his touch, your chest heaving and sweat building as the erraticism of your pulse escalated immensely, you cried out for him to get on with the show and stop teasing. You wanted to feel his body against yours without clothes hindering the sensation.

Reaching your hands out, they haphazardly yanked at his apparel and flung each piece across the room without care and concern. Your fingers desired the need to touch his skin and have the warmth of it pressing against yours to cool the raging fire crawling like molten lava across your skin. Inch by inch it sluggishly trailed, engulfing your entire body into flames while he stood there leaving you to take care of the matter on your own. The cruelty behind his reclusive actions, palms against the tabletop and standing between your legs while he breathed in your air and left you to undress him and then yourself increased the ache between your legs. Whining his name and frowning at him for provocation failed, for all he did was stand there with his brown eyes locked upon your pouting expression.

“You want me to assist you, don’t you?” he lowly chuckled, turning on the heat. “In fact, you need me to assist you.”

“Elrond, please don’t tease me any longer,” you wailed, tugging on the neckline of his shirt to bring his lips a little closer to meet yours, only to have him pull away at the last minute. “Just…Just fix it!”

“And here I thought you said I was incapable of such,” he corrected as his right hand slid up your back to meet the laces and give the bow a tug, unravelling it. With his thumb and forefinger gripping the end of the lace, he continued to unravel it until the bow was undone, leaving the rest of the intricate lacing to loosen. Straightening his posture and left standing in his leggings and shirt, he pulled you upright to unravel the tightness of the lacing and loosen the upper portion of your dress to allow his skilful fingers to peel it off artfully slowly.

The entire time, your hands were frozen on the buttons of his shirt and your eyes focused on the sleeves of your dress being tugged down your arm until they were caught at your elbow. The palpations of your chest could be heard and figured out by Elrond through the flustered expression you cast and the build–up of perspiration. The stickiness coating your skin, Elrond’s fingers swiped against it as he tugged at the front of the dress, prying your cleavage out from the confinements and into the open for his eyes to feast upon.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” he quizzed once most of the upper portion had been removed and took a step back, prying your fingers off the buttons to finish the removal of his clothes. “Is it because you need my care and touch desperately?”

His hands rubbed circles into your hipbone, provoking more sounds to fall from your lips. He wanted to witness how putty you would easily become for his remedy after all the smart–mouthing you were capable of relaying. To witness the hooded, lazily look in your eyes which morphed into want and the parting of your lips to moisten it as his body rocked into yours, enticed him to take the remaining steps to completion.

Towering above you flushed and semi–nude, both hands ran up your legs, over every curve and bump, pushing your dress until it bunched around your waist. Measuring the gap between you, he stepped closer to fill it, also yanking your body closer till it was flushed against his chest. The ripples of goosebumps once your breasts were squeezing on his chest, nipples hardened and rubbing deliciously upon the smoothness of your Lord’s skin, shot across your ignited body. Little whimpers and sighs were emitted at the action of your bodies firmly pressed without any space in between to disturb the tension being created.

Gathering the energy to reach for the rest of your sleeves and tugging it off completely, now your dress pooled perfectly around your waist, he slipped his hands under your thighs and brought them to encircle his waist. The yelp you emitted was swallowed up by his lips colliding with yours and wasting no time in giving you the chance to adjust. Elrond pried your lips apart with his tongue and went to work fervently to savour the sweet taste of your kiss. His groans, at first, were inaudible. Being devoured by your lips as you made attempts at eating his lips or rather his face—your fingers were clawing into his nape and back, pushing him deeper into your body as though you wanted him to morph into you.

For every bite of your lip, your fingers tightened at his nape and gave small tugs to his hair, and for every swipe of his tongue against yours, you dug your nails into his back to leave your signature. The kiss was unlike any other you had experienced, perhaps with the mixture of him being your Lord and you his assistant, the thrill was heightened led to his touch being voracious.

Conversely, Elrond was a master in his art and possessed infinite levels of control unlike you in this situation at a time like this. Breaking the kiss much to your disappointment, his lips remained a few centimetres apart. “Are you going to give me an answer?”

Your body jerked in his hold as his question left you furious at the leisurely time he was taking to fix the issue. The blood under your skin was boiling causing the fingers gnawing at his neck and back to force him into hurrying up. “Would you quit it and just fuck me already? Put the heat out and just make me feel good!” you wailed.

For the first time in years, Elrond felt rejuvenated at the game he played with you. It wasn’t something he was ever fond of, always preferring to make the moment romantic and full of adoration and love, but today sparked a newfound delight. All the while you were yapping and running your mouth, being demanding and obnoxious, the hands that once held your thighs already slipped between your bodies to unsheathe his cock from his leggings and guide it towards your opening. He was thrilled your attention was focused on getting him to comply that you were oblivious to your wish being fulfilled.

“Is this what you wanted me to give you?” With his body at present pressed against yours, there was no room for your eyes to witness the motion of his cock approaching your cunt, only to feel the breaching with an eye roll and heave. Thankfully your hands flopped off his back to brace your body upright on your forearms, you were given the most precious sight of his cock sliding in and out, already covered in a sheet of your arousal. The only thing left for him to do was to pick up the pace.

“You want me to give you pleasure?” he goaded. “But you told me I lacked the capabilities.”

A mischievous grin was set upon his face as the rocking of his hips remained steady and at a snail’s pace. No amount of gripping his hips or pressing the heels of your ankles into his back would increase his speed; not until you gave him an answer.

“Please, please, please. J–…Just give it to me Elrond…” crying out with a solid flop against the table, as much as your body was being stimulated, it wasn’t at the rate required to soothe the ache. “I just want your cock…”

As desperate and pitiful as it sounded, it was pleasant to his ears somehow and fuelled the course of his actions. Leaning his body lower, his hips maintained their rhythmic pattern, leaving behind the soft pitta–patter of his ball being soaked by your drenched cunt. It made his eyes widen the realisation of the desire you contained to be relieved and how much he gave you to consume. Pleased in ways unimaginable, his left hand cupped your face for his thumb to run over your lips before feeling your lips wrapping around the tip and your tongue swirling around it. Eyes widening, yet kept holding his finger, they were fixated on the motion of your lips.

Hissing, his lips formed a smirk at the inability of you to give a response before barrelling away. With his right hand occupied on your waist, he used it to guide your hips to meet the increased tempo of his thrust, awakening the temptress within you. Provocative moans from the depths of your soul escaped your lips and left him more aroused from the start. Even through the action of your sweet lips sucking on his finger, he could precisely and clearly hear each syllable of your melody the more he drove his cock into you.

He couldn’t believe how right you were about the last time he gave himself away so freely to the highs of ecstasy. Your words replayed in his head about releasing all his tension while curing your problem; considering it beneficial when he was problem solving both your issues in one shot—a good remedy.

Letting himself loose, Elrond flung his head backwards to join you in harmony as moans fell from his lips. The tightness of your cunt, a feeling he missed and enjoyed, wrapping around him suffocatingly without a moment of reprieve spiralled him into ecstasy. Your snuggly held him in possession, considering him yours with every stroke he delivered, kissing your sweet spot like no tomorrow and leaving behind stains of his precum to quench the flames. The rigidness and robustness of his cock, the perfect weight resting within your walls were accepted with familiarity. Allowing you to remodel and mould your insides to suit the shape of what he desired. A place where he could return for release and satisfaction.

With the first wave of your fire cooling from sinister rolls of his hips, loudly slapping against the inner of your thighs, you sighed in euphoria. This was the relief your body craved all these months, not sleep. The sensation of being twisted into different positions, from lying on your back to being placed on your side with your leg over his shoulder, a different type of workout that proved to be the best form of lethargy. There wasn’t a position your legs were being tossed into the deeper he drove his cock to have it touch placed unheard of. When they were considered myths, your Lord Elrond proved them false with the wicked flex of his hips to bury himself in the depths of your core, emptying the first release of tension before pummelling again.

There was no stopping when you were now being placed on your stomach, your right foot planted directly into the floor with your left hitched on the table and his hips smacking against your ass. You could have sworn that he was the one who drank the tea instead of you, but with a quick reality check of the volume of releases you made in the last half an hour, it was you.

The deliberating crawl of your cramps as he fucked you like no tomorrow, fingers massaging the back of your thigh while his lips whispered filth in your ear, eased the pain. Even when your stomach clenched and your walls cramped around his cock as the coolness of your orgasm quenched the flames, his fingers ghosting over your skin was a better sensation and stimulation. You could stand there for as long as he desired and take the vigorous pummelling he gave, even if it left you bedridden, it would been the best rest and treatment for your weariness received. It might encourage you to make checks more often than usual.

On Elrond’s end, he could say the same thing. His right hand intertwined with yours upon the table, sweaty chest rubbing against yours and finger massaging your thigh, he would have to make frequent schedules for another visit. Nevertheless, he only wished for the constant slipping and sliding of your bodies to cease. It made things difficult for him to hold and keep close, albeit it allowed for the sounds of his hips meeting your ass to reverberate in the depths of his eardrum, placing a pleasant smile on his face.

“Your cries sound better than I imagined, Y/N.” His voice trickled into your ear like caramel, melting away any remaining tension in your bones. Your body visibly sagged into his chest; head lulled atop his shoulder while your lips remained parts to release your broken, stammering moans. “Tell me, is the treatment to your liking? Would you like me to ease the ache once more?”

Breathlessly fumbling around with your words, your fingers tightened in his and pressed into the table, knocking your knuckles into the solid wood at the swelling of his cock, expanding your walls. The violent flooding of his cum seeping into your cunt and being pushed deeper with the intention of being kept there, left you shaking. Your body couldn’t handle the intoxication of his presence entering you again, speeding up the process for another wave of your orgasm to break through and mix with his. Your cries were all he was listening to while he relentlessly continued to pound away at your walls, loving the hypersensitivity he sent you into.

“Oh fuck, El–…rond!” Wailing into the heated air, your breath condensed at the rise in temperature of the office. Your body’s urge to collapse was prohibited by the gentle encircling of his right arm, still entwined with yours, around your waist to keep you upright and against his sweaty chest. The amazement you held at the unshakeable power he wielded to continue round after round as though his limit was endless. You were beginning to consider the acknowledgement of you being hit with aphrodisiacs was false and simply made up to lure you into his trap.

After all, he was a descendant of a Maia, a powerful at that, being able to ensnare you with the hypnotic look in his eyes was enough to have you at his beck and call. Imagine what his voice was doing as your insides churned and melted with the melody of his moans against your earlobe. Lips kissing the tips and breathless groaning at the squeeze you gave; Elrond summoned you to him like a siren calling its prey.

“Just like that, I’m sure you can give me another and another and another,” he encouraged, placing more pressure on your sweet spot as he ground his hips into your ass and rubbed the tip of his cock against it. “Just let me take care of you. I’ll make you feel better.”

He was unappeasible and outmatched you.

And yet, it did not terrify you, only enticing you to further give in and allow him to care and tend to your needs. His touches and words were all that were required to provoke your body into rejuvenation. He could kiss away the pain, ghost his lips over your skin or breathe against it and all would be well. His remedy to heal your ache was the best and always provided satisfaction.

Masterlist

Taglist: @eunoiaastralwings @lilmelily @koyunsoncizeri @ranhanabi777 @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @the-phantom-of-arda @rain-on-my-umbrella @wandererindreams @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner @batsyforyou @asianbutnotjapanese

791 notes · View notes

nenelonomh · 3 months ago

Text

guys,, don't forget to do your research (AI)

researching ai before using it is crucial for several reasons, ensuring that you make informed decisions and use the technology responsibly.

it actually makes me angry that people are too lazy or perhaps ignorant to spend 15ish minutes reading and researching to understand the implications of this new technology (same with people ignorantly using vapes, ugh!). this affects you, your health, the people around you, the environment, society, and has legal implications.

first, understanding the capabilities and limitations of ai helps set realistic expectations. knowing what ai can and cannot do allows you to utilize it effectively without overestimating its potential. for example, if you are using ai as a study tool - you must be aware that it is unable to explain complex concepts in detail. additionally! you must be aware of the effects that it poses on your learning capabilities and how it discourages you from learning with your class/peers/teacher.

second, ai systems often rely on large datasets, which can raise privacy concerns. researching how an ai handles data and what measures are in place to protect your information helps safeguard your privacy.

third, ai algorithms can sometimes exhibit bias due to the data they are trained on. understanding the sources of these biases and how they are addressed can help you choose ai tools that promote fairness and avoid perpetuating discrimination.

fourth, the environmental impact of ai, such as the energy consumption of data centers, is a growing concern. researching the environmental footprint of ai technologies can help you select solutions that are more sustainable and environmentally friendly.

!google and microsoft ai use renewable and efficient energy to power their data centres. ai also powers blue river technology, carbon engineering and xylem (only applying herbicides to weeds, combatting climate change, and water-management systems). (ai magazine)

!training large-scale ai models, especially language models, consumes massive amounts of electricity and water, leading to high carbon emissions and resource depletion. ai data centers consume significant amounts of electricity and produce electronic waste, contributing to environmental degradation. generative ai systems require enormous amounts of fresh water for cooling processors and generating electricity, which can strain water resources. the proliferation of ai servers leads to increased electronic waste, harming natural ecosystems. additionally, ai operations that rely on fossil fuels for electricity production contribute to greenhouse gas emissions and climate change.

fifth, being aware of the ethical implications of ai is important. ensuring that ai tools are used responsibly and ethically helps prevent misuse and protects individuals from potential harm.

finally, researching ai helps you stay informed about best practices and the latest advancements, allowing you to make the most of the technology while minimizing risks. by taking the time to research and understand ai, you can make informed decisions that maximize its benefits while mitigating potential downsides.

impact on critical thinking

ai can both support and hinder critical thinking. on one hand, it provides access to vast amounts of information and tools for analysis, which can enhance decision-making. on the other hand, over-reliance on ai can lead to a decline in human cognitive skills, as people may become less inclined to think critically and solve problems independently.

benefits of using ai in daily life

efficiency and productivity: ai automates repetitive tasks, freeing up time for more complex activities. for example, ai-powered chatbots can handle customer inquiries, allowing human employees to focus on more strategic tasks.

personalization: ai can analyze vast amounts of data to provide personalized recommendations, such as suggesting products based on past purchases or tailoring content to individual preferences.

healthcare advancements: ai is used in diagnostics, treatment planning, and even robotic surgeries, improving patient outcomes and healthcare efficiency.

enhanced decision-making: ai can process large datasets quickly, providing insights that help in making informed decisions in business, finance, and other fields.

convenience: ai-powered virtual assistants like siri and alexa make it easier to manage daily tasks, from setting reminders to controlling smart home devices.

limitations of using ai in daily life

job displacement: automation can lead to job losses in certain sectors, as machines replace human labor.

privacy concerns: ai systems often require large amounts of data, raising concerns about data privacy and security.

bias and fairness: ai algorithms can perpetuate existing biases if they are trained on biased data, leading to unfair or discriminatory outcomes.

dependence on technology: over-reliance on ai can reduce human skills and critical thinking abilities.

high costs: developing and maintaining ai systems can be expensive, which may limit access for smaller businesses or individuals.