#does not mean that we would condone it in real life

[jazzy-mass]

And to add on to that: you can enjoy something that has problematic themes while acknowledging it’s problematic. There are plenty of things out there that are fun to watch or read that aren’t always super great or have the best representation of healthy, and you can enjoy that while understanding that when applied to real life, it isn’t healthy or good. You can like characters that in reality would be genuinely not great. It’s fiction. It’s not real and it’s a safe way to experience and process and love something without it hurting others or yourself. It is only when it is used to hurt others or yourself or others forget it’s fiction and attack others for their opinions on it that it becomes problematic in reality.

*parts a bead curtain as i enter the room, carrying a glass of lemonade* 

hey….

nothing you ever read, watch, or participate in will be ideologically pure and without its problems. your quest to consume the most unproblematic material will be, in the end, fruitless. your enjoyment of anything will be sapped away, leaving you a husk starved for media.

 it is okay to enjoy things that have problems to them, so long as you do it critically and with an open mind, and take care to consider others.

*leaves the way i came*

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Howl at Midnight

Pairing | werewolf!Jimin x human!Reader

Word Count | 7.5k

Warnings | +18, angst, smut, halloween theme, an apparently abandoned castle (don't trespass on other people's property 🤧), mentions of a pact made with the city's residents, poison, MC doesn't really have much choice 💀, forced nudity, dark themes and also yandere (?), underneath MC finds the situation exciting, bites and marks, sink the canines and drink blood, PWP, oral sex, pussy worship, dubcon, begging, virginity loss, unprotected sex (use protection!), vaginal sex, big dick, knotting, MC abandons herself to her fate (I think Jimin's supernatural nature contributes in MC's choices), eat cum, this is not for minors.

This fanfiction is dark and yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | You always thought you lived in a quiet, small town. You never imagined that the locals would be able to keep such a secret for centuries, you fell into their trap… But it doesn't seem so bad.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys!!! 🥹

My best friend and I challenged each other to write a Halloween-themed story using the following keywords: werewolf - halloween - virginity - castle - poison.

I don't know why I came up with such a story, it was supposed to be something simple but my dark side took over WAY too much 💀

Anyway my best friend liked the story and suggested that I publish it, so here it is, I already apologize for any mistakes and for the plot which is not who knows what 🥺

Howl at Midnight was written for recreation, but I still hope you enjoy it ❤️

PS: I really didn't know how to classify this story, when in doubt I put the warning “yandere,” since there are behaviors that go a little beyond 😵‍💫

Permanent Taglist | @katherine-kookie, @btsuga-d, @reallygenerouskoala, @takemeaway5402, @velvet-stardust2002, @jimincrystal, @ke1k029, @kylafox09, @pantara, @themwordsblog, @angelicsmilesworld

It's a rather dark night, you think, as the flickering lights of street lamps barely illuminate your path. You and some of your friends have decided to spend Halloween night roaming the more desolate streets of your small town, rather than attend the party of the school's homecoming queen, the most popular and at the same time most hated girl ever by you and your friends, a common ground that has certainly welded your friendship.

You are reminded of the afternoon you spent at Glenn's house deciding how you would spend Halloween night; Glenn's initiative had been rather unique, since he was not a fan of that holiday.

“It will be fun, everything is so scary at night, we might even meet a real vampire! I mean, not like Edward Cullen, I mean one who doesn't sparkle-” but Glenn's excited monologue had been badly interrupted by his girlfriend, Claire, who had hit him over the head with a book, and who knows why, said book was actually titled Twilight. You remember giggling, willingly accepting that idea, but now...

“We were simply supposed to go for a walk, Glenn,” you mutter ruefully, looking around, “Do you want to tell me where you're taking us?”

The red-haired boy snorts again, settling into his vampire costume bought at a thrift store stall, “Come on Y/N, what would life be without a little thrill?”

Claire, for her part, nods in turn with a euphoric smile, as if she knows something you don't, prancing merrily dressed as a red devil among black lace decorations and lace.

“Life would be as it has always been, wonderful,” you blurt out nervously, freezing suddenly.

The asphalt has run out and the streetlights have stopped dimly illuminating the entire street, you are at the edge of the most talked about lands in your town. When and how exactly did you get there?

“Here we are, my girls,” you hear Glenn say, satisfied with his feat.

“What are we doing here?” you swallow, far from cheerful.

Answering you is Claire, “It's an abandoned castle and this is Halloween night, what do you say?”

You grit your teeth, shaking your head, “You're crazy, I'm not going in there!” you take a step back, your heart stirring, but Glenn stops you in a single moment.

“Where do you think you're going? I promised your brother I'd keep an eye on you,” he tells you sternly, and you know he's right, you can't just leave on your own, the streets are empty but it would still be dangerous.

“Don't you want to see what it's really like inside, aren't you the least bit curious?”

Short answer? No.

More articulate answer? Fuck no.

“Come on, don't be a wimp now!”

You snort, casting a glance at the castle in question.

It is as large as it is gloomy; the older inhabitants of the town have always spoken of the presence of various monsters within it, which is why the lands surrounding the castle are so large, preventing the actual growth of the otherwise large and well-populated town. Some of the land had been ceded to keep the monsters quiet.

That's some bullshit. And you're certainly not a wimp.

What will you find in there, maybe overgrown spiders? You shake your head, certainly nothing up to the Acromantulae seen in Harry Potter.

“I'm not afraid,” you limit yourself to saying, Glenn and Claire seem satisfied with your answer as they begin to step over half of the downed iron bars surrounding the gates of the immense building. It bothers you that they haven't bothered beyond you, but it's Halloween night; you can't really spoil their fun.

You hold on tightly to one of the rusty old iron bars, lift one leg trying not to fall off because of the bulky skirt of your witch costume, and end up straight on the ground covered with dry mud and grass, thank the heavens that it hasn't rained in the last few days, otherwise goodbye costume, although more like an elegant medieval dress and nothing more than that.

“Guys, wait for me!” you exclaim as you turn toward them, but you find yourself rolling your eyes.

The darkness is almost completely pitch black, only the moon high in the sky gives you some brightness in that open space surrounded by green trees and uncultivated grass. Your friends are not there.

“Please tell me this is a joke, please,” you growl, turning only a few seconds to climb over the railing, “Glenn? Claire?”

A shiver of unease snakes down your spine, as if someone - or something - is watching you. But you immediately banish the absurd thought. The Halloween atmosphere always makes everything quite scary; your friends chose that place for that very reason.

Imagining that you simply find them in front of the castle's entrance, you also wander down the path that actually looks like anything else by now. You will meet each other there.

The wind blows without worrying about your bare shoulders because of the dress's boat neckline; the cape had long since been taken away along the way. You bought it in an antique store and the elderly man seemed quite eager to get rid of it. He even gave you a discount.

The sound of falling leaves under the force of the draught is quite terrifying, especially now that you've discovered you can't use your cell phone. There is absolutely no service there, and isn't that how the best horror movies begin?

A frustrated groan leaves your throat, you don't have to think about it.

“Glenn?” you try to call out once more, but along the path echoes the hoots of an owl that is probably scrutinizing you with condescension, wondering why a silly girl like you is wandering around in such a desolate, godforsaken place.

When you arrive at the gates of the castle, you find yourself admiring the extraordinary Gothic architecture of the huge, ancient building made of stone and marble. The fact that it has survived over the centuries without any kind of restoration is a testament to the good materials that were used.

One by one, you walk down the stone steps, sudden thunder jolts you violently, and with fear in your veins you throw yourself toward the immense reinforced door, finding it ajar, a sign that Glenn and Claire must have already entered. You ignore the hint of annoyance, since they could at least wait for you, you must escape the sudden storm.

Wordlessly you notice the large, thick black clouds enveloping the sky, obscuring even the immense full moon.

You carefully close the ancient gateway, looking around the thick-walled atrium decorated with paintings that are surely worth more than your current home, not to mention the carpet you are walking on, though a bit worn, is definitely from the time of the castle's founding. You wonder which lord lived there and whether it can be traced in the history books.

“Claire?” you whisper, afraid of disturbing someone, but who exactly?

Sighing wearily, you really have no time or inclination to play along with your friends, you rest your hand on the wrought-iron railing of the staircase, beginning to climb so that you can find those two idiots as soon as possible and get home safely.

They say 'God makes them and then matches them up,' right? You mentally growl, well, you would’ve just wiped them out instead.

Between corridors that are not real corridors but dead ends, some narrow and some exaggeratedly large, you finally find the wing reserved for rooms, hating the enormity of that place.

“Hey, you ... are you here?” you ask, slowly opening a bedroom door with one eye closed and one only slightly open, fearing to find the two lovebirds doing strange things in the leto of an abandoned castle, because they would be perfectly capable of it.

But what you find is just a lavishly decorated bedroom absolutely empty of any other life forms but you.

“This is definitely a joke,” you chuckle mirthlessly, clutch your arms to your chest, and continue that unwelcome tour of yours, continuing to open rooms at random, with no more expectation of finding anyone in them, until you come to a rather large bedroom.

Quite different from the others, which up to that point had been yes, beautiful, but empty, lacking a soul.

This one was immense just like the castle itself, yet warm, thanks to the burning fireplace. The four-poster bed was adorned with red silk sheets, as were the velvet curtains tied to the solid wooden columns, on the walls finely decorated with gold paint were hung medieval tapestries, depicting hunting parties, running horses and wolves, wolves everywhere. One that particularly strikes you depicts two wolves and a woman in the center, they seem ready to bite her fiercely, you notice with discomfort.

High glass windows with curtains left open allow lightning to illuminate the entire room, followed by a terrible, howl-like rumble.

That horrible noise seems to awaken you from the sort of trance you fell into while admiring the surely master bedroom, and you finally take serious note of the burning fire. Why a working fireplace in a castle uninhabited for years?

“To many the night brings counsel, to me it has brought a lovely maiden, I see...” you gasp surprised and terrified, turning toward the silky, warm, yet slightly hoarse, almost growling voice.

A relatively young man watches you with his shoulder resting against one of the stained glass windows. You had not seen him. No. He was not there before, you are absolutely sure.

His dark, shiny hair has been grown down to his neck, some curling around his sharp, elegant jaw, the neck left bare by his unbuttoned, white shirt is a set of sinuous, sharp, powerful lines. The soft black pants do nothing to hide the wonderful figure of his long legs, his feet are bare, you notice. He feels perfectly comfortable, as if... as if that were his home.

“I-I... I'm sorry, it's Halloween and some friends of mine thought...” you try to explain with your hands clasped to the skirt of your dress, but you are immediately interrupted by the man's sophisticated, sassy giggle.

“They thought it was a brilliant idea to violate my property?” you pale at his question.

“We... the whole town believes the castle is uninhabited,” you reply with a shy breath, trying to justify them.

The young man breaks away from the glass window, slowly approaching you, you take steps back, inadvertently bumping into one of the pillars of the bed.

“And does it look uninhabited to you, little girl?”

Little girl? By the look of him, he wouldn't seem that much older than you, in fact.

Now that he has moved closer, standing only a foot away from you, you notice details of his face that you did not catch a few moments earlier.

He has high, pronounced cheekbones, and his lips seem so plump and soft that you blush at the thought of kissing them, his nose is well-proportioned and straight, while the peculiar shape of his eyes gives him a rather sweet and angelic air, although the fun written in them is anything but angelic.

“I didn't know, I'm really sorry, sir,” and it's true, the last thing you want is to be a nuisance to someone you don't even know, “I'll get my friends back and we'll leave right away, I promise.”

Dark eyes rimmed with long eyelashes watch you closely, before dropping to the rest of your body. Suddenly you remember the deep cleavage of your witch's dress, your skin burning under his watchful gaze.

“Right now there is no one else in the castle, except you and me,” he approaches again, you can feel his warm breath meet your neck, you shiver as the man clasps one hand above your head, around the pillar of the bed, doing the same with the other. This makes it clear how statuesque his physique is, compared to your more petite one, you also catch a subtle citrus fragrance, light and not cloying, is that him?

With a huge effort, you process his words, widening your eyes. No one else?

“But how-”

“In my opinion you made it all up, little girl,” he sneers, "Just admit that it was your curiosity that drove you here," but you shake your head, vehemently denying it.

“I really came here with friends!” you fret, you've never been good at handling pressure and this guy is not helping you at all.

“Oh, really?” a devilish smile makes its way across his soft, smooth cheeks, "So it's just a coincidence that you're wearing this dress?" you don't know how to answer the question, you can't, not when he lowers a hand over you, brushes the outline of your face with a finger, trailing down the delicate line of your neck to your cleavage, your rippling, shivering skin longs to receive his touch once more, you struggle to recover.

“Th-this dress?” you stammer in shame, his finger is still grazing your chest and you are doing nothing to push it away.

“Mh-mh,” he nods, pushing your cleavage down a few millimeters, enough to make you squeak with red cheeks, “How much do you know about this castle and its owners, little girl?”

Nothing, you'd like to answer, but your eyes already communicate your answer as he pulls back, finally letting you breathe. His scent still hovers around you, though.

“Year 1479, the people of the town of Howl enter into an agreement with the seven lords of Midnight, ceding a part of their lands to these noble lords and agreeing to send a virgin once every ten years, on the so-called Halloween Night,” he narrates, leaving you speechless, “In return, none of the townspeople would be hunted down and killed, does that ring a bell?”

“L-Listen to me, I really don't know what you're talking about, I definitely have to go now,” you nod at your own words, but the door slams shut along with a new and terrible rumble, an anguished cry involuntarily leaving your throat.

“The dress you're wearing is soaked in poison, little girl” the imperious tone terrifies you, automatically your body closes in on itself, as a kind of protection.

“This must definitely be a joke, it is Halloween after all,” you whisper to yourself with tears in your eyes.

“It's a security, for us. It ensures that the girls don't run away, because we are the only ones who can neutralize that poison” you don't know why the man started speaking in plural, you just know that you have to leave, even though something inside you is screaming at you not to. Because it could end very badly.

“You'd better take it off, your body might absorb more poison than is really necessary, the sooner we start the better,” he sighs, beginning to take off his white shirt, showing off a well-built, smooth chest and abs studded with thin scars lighter than his skin, swallowing without any more salivation, following long lines of black ink that weave across his pecs, forming some kind of mark, perhaps related to some cult.

“What are you doing!”

The man tilts his head, his soft hair following the movement meekly, and grasps the edge of his pants, running his forefinger and thumb over it defiantly as he watches you, “I'm taking what was given to me, little girl,” he sneers again, not at all impressed by your shock.

It was not uncommon for him and his brothers to be served girls who were totally unaware of their own destiny, they were tiresome at times, they would not stop shaking and crying, praying not to be deprived of their purity, but you smell so delicious that it might make him go beyond your dullness.

The fabric of his excellent quality pants slowly flows over the flawless skin of his toned legs, the blood rushes straight to your cheeks, and your heart misses a beat with a strangled “iiih” as you realize that the stranger has not only freely undressed in front of you, but is not wearing any underwear.

You've certainly never seen a naked man in person, but based on your anatomy books, that is definitely not a normal penis.

With a strange feeling of dizziness and no little embarrassment, you realize that even at rest, it is definitely big, with a swollen base almost as big as perfectly round testicles and such obvious purplish veins that you wonder if it is actually already hard, in its own way. Could that vibrant pink be an indicator? God, what the hell are you thinking?!

After a little dizziness your eyes fly to the closed door, you have to leave, run.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks you, smiling with a hint of danger in his eyes, “Do you want to run? Run away from me? Know that this will only excite me more.”

You try to look away from his cock, with extreme difficulty, as he spoke, his cock had moved slightly, as if agreeing with the man's words. You ignore the slight jolt between your legs.

“If I can get through the gates of your property, will you let me go?” you propose almost shyly, staring into his sly eyes.

“Um... if I let you go, you'd die from the poison, but if that's what you want...” he shrugs, making you frown. The story of the poisoned dress might be bullshit to convince you to let him fuck you, but what if it's not?

You shake your head, it's all just a bluff. This man is clearly a pervert, maybe he gets off on fucking on such nights with stranger women.

“That's what I want.” you assure with a note of panic in your voice, the desire to escape is so urgent you can hardly think, “Open the door.”

But the man shakes his head, “Strip and I will leave you free to roam my lands until I find you.”

“I don't-!” the words die between your lips, his singsong expression gone, giving way to a sternness that clashes with his regal features, the difference making that contrast frightening.

“I like to play, little girl ... but I don't tolerate whining, don't make me angry, because I might decide to take you now, we have a bed available right here and now,” he hisses, clenching his fist against the polished wooden backboard of the four-poster bed. The more he looks at you, the more his balls throb fiercely; he's trying to control his desire; if his cock hardens, that's the end.

You're the first woman he's seen in 60 years, finally his turn has come, and there's no way he'll let you go. Do you want to play? He'll let you, but eventually you'll give in to his desires. The scent of your sweet virgin pussy makes his wolf growl, eager to get out to meet you.

Perhaps you sense something strange, because with trembling fingers you go to unbutton the side opening of your dress, a little sorry to him, the plunging neckline raises and shapes your breasts invitingly, though the stench of the poison with which it is imbued leaves him disgusted. An idea of humans to persuade chosen women not to flee, his eyes scroll over the ancient clock hanging above the door, the hands turn and you have just four hours to go before the poison takes effect, killing you. He would be sorry to see you die without having had a chance to taste you first.

“Tic-Tac, the clock is ticking, little girl... the slower you are, the more likely you are to die,” he informs you with a smile, your fear written all over his face igniting his loins; he has to restrain himself so he doesn't jump on you, and you're aware of that now, too.

Your eyes study his shoulders, they have stiffened noticeably, and with embarrassing speed you unfasten the last side button, letting the soft black fabric of your dress slip off like a veil, leaving you in your bra and panties. You start up under his eyes, which move to observe every nook and cranny of your body, from the soft breasts enclosed in the cups of the purple lace bra, going lower and lower, past the delicious curve of your hips to the tightly clasped mount of Venus covered by more purple lace. You yourself realize that for a man who wants to possess you, that kind of lingerie might make you look like a neatly wrapped gift in his eyes.

“Don't stop,” he tells you hoarsely, his eyes veiled with glowing lust.

The blood leaves your veins; if he were to take you, you would already be ready to receive him. As your fingers move to get rid of your bra as well, you realize you don't find it such a disturbing idea after all, even when you finally pull down the light fabric of your panties, showing off something no boy has ever had the honor of looking at, his nostrils flaring as if to inhale something in the air, you are aroused.

“You'd better start running, little girl, I'm going to give you exactly twenty seconds head start,” his voice comes out as a guttural sound, making you widen your eyes and really run, when the door suddenly opens wide.

You don't even wonder what strange contraption he used to close or open the door without having to physically do it, you just know you are definitely in danger.

Every nook and cranny of the castle is an unknown, he owns it, he may know passages unknown to you; therefore, you always try to wander the corridors with no visible openings. A tense, animalistic roar makes you scream in terror, with spirited eyes you look down the stairs, you are close to the stairs to the hall, the door has not been locked, you just need more time, you can make it.

You sling yourself barefoot down, almost tumbling from your haste and throw yourself out, skipping the stone steps and then to the wild path, short of breath and fear dictating your decisions, you remember it took you a good twenty minutes to get to the castle, but walking the whole path is out of the question, it would be too obvious and easy, you necessarily have to lengthen the path and consequently put in more time to get away from that terrifying place.

With horror you realize that you don't know where Glenn and Claire might be at all, would he hurt them if he found them?

Of course he would.

You don't know the man, but you have noticed all too well the bestial aura around him; he is someone capable of harm, and he will harm you if you cannot escape him.

Your feet step on scattered branches on the ground and you whimper trying to ignore the pain, another roar - or maybe it's a howl? - rips through the air, mingling with the howls of the rushing wind, and you stifle an anguished cry.

Scratches open along your body, trees ravaged by bad weather and never tended seem to want to block your way in every way possible, and the darkness certainly doesn't help.

Like a wounded animal you limp aimlessly, not imagining the hunger of the ravenous beast that sneers at the scent of your blood.

You feel tired, sluggish at times, your peripheral vision somewhat obscured, an excruciating doubt makes its way into your mind. Could it be that the story of the poisoned dress was true?

But why sell it to you, how could the seller have known that your friends would take you to that castle on Halloween night?

You begin to stagger, a sharp twinge in your head stops you, it is so painful that you collapse on the icy, muddy ground.

You realize you are screwed in every sense of the word when a weight suddenly crushes you to the ground, you scream in terror and wide-eyed, trying to shake it off.

Jimin doesn't think twice about clasping you in his vigorous arms, burying his nose on your neck damp with cold sweat, the accelerated beat of your heart rumbling in his own chest, driving him to moan with need. He presses himself against your soft curves, basking in your feverish warmth despite the stormy, icy night.

“Don't hurt me,” you shake your head with your eyes closed, trying to fight the unusual fatigue to plead with him, "Please, I was wrong, forgive me...I won't come back here again, I swear," the boy snorts against your flustered skin.

He reluctantly lifts himself up to allow you to turn toward him, you find some strength to open your eyelids wide, being invested by his sometimes divine appearance. His eyes, no longer as black as you thought they were, are tinged with an extraordinary shade of gold, he watches you from receptive pupils as you notice the grin on his mouth, a mouth larger than you remembered. There is something strange, not human, about him now. And despite the run he must have made to keep up with you, he doesn't have the slightest hint of fatigue in his breath, he's as fucking fresh as a newly bloomed rose.

“You're dying, little girl,” he hums, shaking some hair off your forehead, you lose a beat at the sight of long claws where once there were short, well-manicured nails.

The claw grazes your skin unhurriedly, you feel it scratch without hurting, you anxiously lick your lips closing your eyes, you are so sleepy that you even willingly accept your fate, Jimin snorts through his nose, almost laughing, before lowering himself onto your jugular.

It would be really easy for him to sink his canines into your flesh and bite your throat to rip it out, but fortunately for you he is not a vampire. All he wants is to sink his cock into your pussy and make you cum repeatedly, but if you died it would be hard to put his plan into action. He wants you alive and receptive.

He licks a long streak of saliva onto your delicate neck, heedless of the dirt that has stuck to your skin, before gently biting you. Your reaction is immediate, you start sobbing like a puppy at the feel of his fangs penetrating your flesh, you cling to his shoulders trying to move him weakly from you, and you kick awkwardly with your legs, legs that are locked in a vice grip by his. That way it is easy to feel something hard and heavy pressing against your belly, you try not to think about it as the man seems inebriated by the taste of your blood flowing straight down his throat.

The bitter taste of the poison is revolting, but fortunately your blood has such sweet notes that it counterbalances that horrendous taste in a balanced way, here, now he just has to lick your wound thoroughly. He collects the last rivulets of your blood with his tongue, before dripping his saliva into the tiny holes created by his sharp canines, little holes that begin to close with light smoke, cauterizing the wound and partly removing the poison toxins from your blood.

With no longer a grip on your throat, your head falls limply back to the ground, you gasp trying to fight off the shock of such an experience.

“Mpf!” his tongue invades your mouth treacherously, the taste of your blood making you squeal on his lips, so unfairly soft and pleasant to the touch. The hot and unusually long muscle pushes into your oral cavity eagerly, saving your life has as if awakened the more primal side of Jimin, one of the seven lords who unleashed hell in Howl's town. And the mating ritual has begun, but you cannot know this.

You break free by gasping for air, “W-why?” you stutter breathlessly, “You don't even know me!” you cry as you drive your nails into his forearms, triggering in return a reaction of possession in him, prompting him to grab your thighs and lift them onto his shoulders to your profound horror, he is so wild as he spreads your legs wide open to sink his face in between them that you can't utter a single breath.

As he runs his tongue along your pulsing, hot folds, Jimin realizes with nastiness that during your escape you got wet for him, he had smelled your arousal as he pursued you, on some people the quickened heartbeat has that effect, but the sweet and slightly salty taste of your juices are now a definitive proof for him. And you can't deny it, you love how he teases you by slowly sliding around your swollen clit, plays with it by holding it between his lips and then releasing it after sucking hard, almost biting it. He tortures it by pricking it quickly with the tip of his tongue and then returns to lapping your thick juices from the soft slit, which seems to melt every time that devilish tongue penetrates it, managing to lick and stimulate walls that a normal tongue could never reach.

You shyly move your pelvis against his face, your thighs stained with your arousal tremble against his cheeks, and a terrible heat makes you pant desperately. The man abandons your slit to push himself again against your unbearably sensitive folds, they are so moist that you can hear the noise they make every time that cursed tongue stimulates them to push a few millimeters toward your clitoris, never reaching to touch it.

“God!” you curse, suddenly reaching out an arm to grab his hair, not recognizing yourself when you desperately push him against your pussy, longing for the pleasure he was spoiling you with at first.

His arousal makes him grunt like a wounded animal as he sinks into your core with languid, sensual movements, rewraps your desperate clit with his lips and tongue before continuing with more direct, zigzagging movements, crushing it at times with the flat part of his tongue and then flicking it with the tip soon after. He would never stop kissing and licking you like that, his tensed cock vibrating each time he eats you up a little more, delightedly swallowing your juices, enjoying retrieving them each time they flow between your wide-open, rosy thighs. A clearer, liquid substance squirts slightly out of your slit, causing you to shake around his head, you clench your lower lip between your teeth with tears sliding down your flushed cheeks, you are instigating Jimin to pleasurably hurt you, and the funniest thing is that you don't even notice.

Finishing licking some of that shiny, transparent substance from your inner thigh, the boy moves up your body, biting slowly at the flesh of your belly and then higher and higher to the softness of your breasts, titillating a turgid nipple before pulling it between his lips.

“W-What are you doing to me?” you gasp, wishing he would never stop adoring and cuddling your body, why? Just moments before you were running from his clutches, why are you lifting your pelvis now, inviting him to take you as if you've been waiting for this all your life?

“Are you just...” he murmurs, before kissing your chin with his devilish lips, "Responding to your desire" he kisses your mouth again, an electric sensation forcing you to comply, chasing his tongue with yours, collapsing to the spicy taste that is now all over his mouth, your taste.

With half-closed eyes you realize that the dark lines of ink are moving, taking the shape of a wolf watching you, you have no way to comprehend the unsettling sensation that invades you. The man, with one hand pressed against your bare back, forces you to turn away without you having any say in the matter, you find yourself with your face to the ground and the wind blowing down your back, shivering under his fiery, golden eyes, your legs trembling from the effort to keep you on your hands and knees, fighting the sweet pain pulsing in your naked pussy.

“Now hold still, little girl,” he murmurs in your ear in a husky voice, sensuously pumping his cock with one hand, swollen veins pushing against his palm, which squeezes along the entire shaft to the base, then back to the thick tip from which he is already dripping his thick cum, "I need to get all the venom out of your pretty little body, am I right?" he sneers, positioning himself at your entrance.

You open your eyes wide, panic stifled by arousal, but it's still there nonetheless, clenching your fingers between the grass and damp earth, rubbing your knees against pebbles that make you moan in pain. The length of his cock begins to push against your slit, forcing it open for him, a choked cry leaves your throat, feeling your walls that, despite their wetness, struggle to let him in.

“You're still so tight,” hisses the man unfamiliar to you, "I must spoil you some more, huh?" he chuckles, sliding his hand between your legs, using his index finger to stimulate your throbbing bud, you gasp arching your back and raising your buttocks toward the man, who takes the opportunity to plunge his cock another inch into your entrance, which throbs and squeezes him rhythmically, almost making him lose control of the situation.

The sensation of the claw grazing your folds each time he presses and massages your swollen clitoris brings you almost to the edge, you feel a wild sexual desire, something you never experienced even during your teenage years, a crucial period of sexual development.

“Go ahead, please!” you exclaim breathlessly, pressing your forehead against the ground, every single millimeter that moves inside you without really penetrating you is like torture, your index finger moving languidly, and you're going fucking crazy.

“Are you really begging?” he teases you, you grit your teeth until it hurts, but finally you give in.

“Please... fill me, take me!”

“Do you want it?” he asks again, pulling the tip almost completely out, the only part he had managed to get in, you clench your legs desperately trying to recover what your intimacy has lost.

“Yes! I want it! I want your cock, I want it to fill me all the way, and I want it now!” you growl with an anger that burns under your skin, looking at him from behind, his face is an emotionless mask, but his eyes...oh, those never lie, you read the fire of desire in them, he's suffering that anticipation as much as you are. Bastard.

“You begged for it so well, little girl... I'll just have to satisfy you,” the cavernous tone clashes with his appearance, but it anticipates what happens next and leaves you breathless, abandoning your contracted clitoris he grips your hips tightly, almost penetrating your delicate flesh with his claws, pushing himself into you with a vigorous thrust, instantly breaking the thin membrane at your entrance, effortlessly. The burning that follows makes your eyes water, your body instinctively trying to escape the man's savage assault, suddenly realizing that you have lost your virginity that way, out in the open, sweaty and dirty, just like an animal.

The man on top of you hisses and makes strange deep sounds, inebriated by the sensation of his throbbing cock finally and completely squeezed between your trembling walls, trying to adjust to the abnormal size. You gasp whimpering, moving your pelvis trying to disentangle yourself from the overgrip, his claws are hurting you, but he doesn't seem to want to let go, not now that he is buried so deep.

With a grunt he thrusts out slightly, watching as your pussy instinctively clings to him, as your thick juices and virginal blood wet his entire length, lubricating him. Leaning toward you, he lets a long trickle of saliva fall back between your buttocks, slipping between them reaches the point where you are joined. He thrusts back into you forcefully, striking deeper and deeper, and you feel every detail of his cock penetrating you and thrusting higher and higher, touching points so delicate and sensitive that you howl meekly, like a she-wolf offering her whole self to her mate, the pain has been replaced by the need to be possessed, you move against his pubes with urgency, the thread of pleasure is getting thinner and thinner, you feel incredibly wet, practically soaked, and the sounds of your union are so obscene that you are shamefully aroused. Your walls flutter drunkenly with pleasure, at one point with the thick, red tip he manages to hit the entrance to your cervix with precision, you stiffen whimpering breathlessly, and Jimin collapses on top of you, continuing to move his hips tirelessly and with spellbinding sinuosity.

You take it so well that it is impossible for him not to want to have you again and again, throwing back his head to be hit by the moonlight that increases his desire, his pupils widen and he feels his testicles clench with urgency as the base of his cock swells, making him shake all over. Without a second thought, he begins to enter you with deeper and longer thrusts so that his whole cock sinks into you without any more constriction, he hears you panting and crying and this only causes him joy, you are completely abandoned to him and your sensations.

You're about to come, you're not so ignorant that you don't know what's happening to your body, you've even heard of intense orgasms, but this... god, this is going to be devastating, you know very well. It's nothing like the ones you had with masturbation, this one is deeper, snaking through your lower belly and you feel it in your uterus. You stiffen all over, trying to block the erection that keeps pinning you down between hard, sensual thrusts, every time it touches your cervix you risk going crazy.

“Don't stop me, little girl... It's here, isn't it?” he gasps at you, slamming into you once more, high up between the entrance of your uterus and another sensitive area that makes your clitoris and walls tear with intense pleasure, your toes curl and you can't help but nod desperately, "Alright, love," he replies without even realizing it, kissing your bare, sweaty shoulder, his knot is almost complete, but he wants you to come before he gives you his cum.

He teases a sensitive, turgid nipple with the tip of a claw as he reaches the point of your union, massaging your folds to help you come, though with a hint of naughtiness he doesn't dare touch your clitoris, he wants you to orgasm on your own, knowing that the intensity then will be greater and you will collapse weak and distraught in his arms.

“Oh, fuck-!” you widen your eyes, being hit by a pressing and beautiful sensation of jouissance, sucking him furiously into you amid tremors and searing waves of pleasure, the same clear liquid as before leaks from your slit, this time in a greater quantity, causing Jimin to grunt as he is run over by your jet, slamming into you almost brutally, streams of his cum fiercely fill your core, as if to mark you for life, and finally his knot swells completely, locking him inside you.

Although immobilized, he cannot stop coming, his testicles quivering violently, and only one thing could quell his aching desire. With his eyes now almost completely encompassed by the black pupil, he pushes your hair away from your neck, exposing your previously tortured skin.

“Why does this go on?” you ask feverishly, confused by the enormous weight widening your walls and locking his big cock into you.

“Sssh” he rubs the tip of his nose against you, making you shudder, "Just wait a little longer" his words are followed by an excruciating twinge, his grown canines penetrating like blades into your skin and sinking into your flesh amidst your shocked and submissive screams, your body surrendering to his force, instinctively submitting and waiting for him to finish marking.

Jimin loves blood, your blood, it pleasantly bathes his tongue with its density and sweetness, he moans with need as he loses himself in your scent, instinct commands him to move his hips once more, even though you are both locked together, with a weak moan you take in the last strings of his cum, resting possessively in your belly, you feel heavy and unbearably full, but at least he seems to be finished, you feel him relax as he once again licks the holes left by his teeth, healing them. He looks like a wolf cleaning up after his mate after mating.

“What are you?” you ask wearily, by now surrendering to the idea that the man cannot be a mere human, that probably everything he has told you, from the poison-soaked dress to the deal with the town, is real.

“Jimin” you hear him grunt at such a low frequency that if you hadn't been alone, you probably wouldn't have heard him. You snort weakly.

“I asked you what you are, not your name,” you murmur, the strange, heavy weight preventing you from moving, hissing as Jimin moves awkwardly between your legs, putting you in a more comfortable situation, letting you rest against his chest lethargically, occasionally kissing the back of your neck and licking your neck, or behind your ear.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't like all that attention; you feel a delicious bite around your heart as you cling to his embrace, protected from the evening chill.

You don't know exactly how long you spend like this, maybe forty minutes, maybe an hour, the fact is that finally that thing between your legs seems to melt away, making you sigh almost strangely.

Jimin gently untangles himself from you, leaving your warm shelter slowly and with a feeling of emptiness that stuns you, your legs finally relax and you try to move them to regain some mobility, you feel his cum pushing to come out and two of his fingers enter you, plugging your entrance. No claws, you notice as he slowly turns you around.

You hiss at the burning, your knees are completely ruined, but Jimin begins to sprinkle them with kisses and saliva, the man is back between your thighs again, you can see his long, wild hair shining as he licks and sucks your skin from time to time, all the way to his fingers, he moves them slowly inside you and you twitch involuntarily, closing your eyes at the warmth of his tongue licking a thick streak of cum and juices dripping roughly from you, pushing it down to your hypersensitive clitoris and you moaning in pain.

“Don't do it,” you gasp, closing your legs tightly, but he doesn't give up, grabbing your chin between two fingers and forcing your mouth wide open, your heart faltering with a strange emotion, you let him spit all his creamy load into your mouth, running along your tongue with a surprised cry.

“Swallow,” he orders with a gleam of interest in his eyes.

You do as he tells you, wanting to please him in every way possible, accepting him back into your mouth for a slow, intimate kiss. It is also dominant and sweet, intense.

“I'm Jimin, a werewolf and also one of the masters of the castle,” he explains pushing you against his bare chest, you hug him back as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be there, clasped to him on a bed of dry leaves, "You are my mate, it's no accident that you were chosen ... being a virgin at your age is unusual for humans, but not for us wolves, you waited for me," he emphasizes with fire in his eyes.

“But ... my friends?” you can't help but ask, which makes him chuckle.

“My people have learned to be among humans, they recognized you by scent and led you to me at the right time, they are fine,” he informs you with a caress, “In fact, you should worry about yourself,” he says with a note of reproach.

“H-How?” fear advances again.

“I've waited too many years for your birth, little girl... it's time to repay the wait,” he hums as something hot and hard returns against your belly.

“Jimin, wai-!” too late, the tip of his cock captures your entrance again, this time with more ease and the next thrust has you writhing against him with tears in your eyes, “Oh, shit!”

© 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲𝐙𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐢 -  𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. || 𝐔𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[nctstar]

Can I get a smut of Johnny suh using his size and strength kink on a petite female Y/N? Thank you~

heyy! i'm so sorry this is absurdly late :(( but hope you still like it! <3

small

Wasting no time to rid himself of his clothes, he spoke. “This room is fine, right?” Muscles bulging as he fiddled with his shirt, the ridges of his chest drawing in the singlet, you bit your finger almost comically. “Hello? Earth to _?” The brown of his eyes were soft, a sharp contrast to his stature. He smirked, his hair bouncing as he threw his head back slightly. “Like what you see?”

pairing: johnny suh x fem!reader

other members: none

word count: 2.4k

genre: romance, smut

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni!! as per the request the reader is smaller than Johnny but I refrained from describing body parts or her specific size or anything like that, she is just short. if you're sensitive to this kind of talk though maybe don't read <3 mild profanity, lots of kissing, johnny carries reader, manhandling, descriptions of johnny's torso and body throughout, dirty talk about the size of his ding dong schlong, mild degradation (use of slut), ripping clothes bc those muscles do more than lift weights <3, clitoral stimulation/fingering, reader is pretty slutty and dumb during sex (aren't we all), missionary sex, praising (sweet girl, good girl), condom use, talking after sex (post nut clarity fr)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. 

a/n: i have been in such a writer's slump particularly with smut! like i think i need some time off to write some good fics and some good smut, so i'm sorry anon and to all my lovely readers if this is shit :(

“Now why would he ever say that?” You peeked at your friend pacing around your small room through your hair. Scissors in one hand, your (new) bangs in the other, you winced. “Wait, girl, I made a mistake I think.”

She sighed as you let the strands flutter across your forehead, uneasiness settling in your stomach. “Didn’t you follow what he said?” Brad Mondo’s curtain bangs tutorial continued in the background as you turned your head expectantly from side to side. Your friend held your head in place with open palms, looking at you through the mirror. “It’s actually kinda cute. Makes you look…well…”

“Don’t say small.” She snorted, bringing a hand to her face to unsuccessfully cover her mouth. “I don’t care, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

You pushed yourself off the stool, rolling your eyes as you started undressing. “He didn’t mean it like that.” Your belt clinked as your jeans fell to the carpet, and you started bringing your shirt over your heard. “I’m sure it was his way of complimenting me.” Despite all your efforts, you couldn’t stop the annoyance that cemented your words into place. “I guess.”

“Girl, you need to tell him that it bothers you.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“Yeah, and it’s not weird to call some girl you’ve been on two dates with small.”

The doorbell cut through the air, making you both jump. “Shit. It’s like he heard or something.”

“Shit. Wait, just let him in and get him to wait downstairs. Okay?” Sudden panic was settling into your body, making your hands shake. Your friend got the message and hurried downstairs, zipping her skirt up in record time while hobbling downstairs. “Hope I don’t smell like chicken. I hate having shifts on Fridays.”

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you pulled the skirt over the curves of your thighs and butt, watching the way it held onto your body. Stuffing the ends of the top into the skirt, you walked over to pick out a pair of shoes.

“I’m heading out! Johnny’s waiting down here!” Your friend’s voice made your body do the kind of useless flurry that it does whenever you know you’re running out of time, and you drag out the highest heels you own. Small, my ass.

“Hey!” As usual, he softened his frame when he saw you, placing his hands in his pockets and smiling so big so you would forget to feel intimidated by his 6-foot stature, or rock-hard physique. His eyes were like small moons, bursting on his face whenever he smiled. “Hey, nice bangs.” You instinctively went to fiddle with them, silently cursing yourself for messing them up. “Thanks.” Your smile was a little forced, but you were giddy to see him, your body rocking back and forth without your permission, ankles rubbing against each other.

∞

“The pasta was so good,” you couldn’t stop raving, your hips knocking into Johnny as he walked you home, arms linked. “Like seriously, Johnny. So good.”

He laughed, the sound leaving him effortlessly. “I’m so glad you liked it. I remember the pasta here being amazing, but I was worried you would think I’m cheap or not taking you seriously. The place being run down and all.” You shook your head, your bangs shuffling from side to side as you did. “No, of course not. I would rather eat something good on the street than a tiny portion of something small and pretentious at an upscale place.”

He hummed, moonlight hitting his body, softening some angles and sharpening others, hair glowing golden brown as he walked. Your heels clacked against the linoleum of your front porch as you wondered whether your friend was home, but before you could reach for the front door, your knees buckled. You let out a small gasp as you felt Johnny’s arms around your body, pinching into your skin almost uncomfortably. “Oh shit! I’m okay, babe.” You both froze at the sudden nickname, his arms loosening around you as you straightened up. You shakily continued. “U-uhm, sorry, I mean-“

“I think your shoes broke.”                                                                   

Yeah, no shit, you wanted to bite back. But you held your tongue, frustration seeping through your pores as you held onto the rail, Johnny hovering protectively over you as you took the right heel off, now newly broken in two pieces. “Oh my god. These were so expensive! Ugh!”

“It’s okay. Maybe I can buy you another pair. Babe.” He said the last word almost sarcastically, and you glared at him. “Johnny.”

“I’m serious. I’m sorry those broke so easily. I’ll bring a new pair next time?”

“Johnny, wait.”

“You like me, right?” His face crumpled just a tiny bit. Not exaggerated like in the movies or anything, so subtle you would never notice from afar, or if you weren’t close. You warmed at the thought of knowing him so closely, so well, enough to know that something was not right in the lines of his eyebrows.

You gulped, not knowing how to respond.

“I feel like you kinda hate me.” He crinkled his nose when he said hate, almost sarcastically, but his tone jabbed you straight in the chest. You shook your head. No, of course not, you wanted to say. I like you. I like you so much. But I am small to you. I wonder if you think of me as small. Do YOU like me?

“I just, I don’t like being small.” He frowned, and so did you, the words sounding stupid as soon as they filled the small space between your bodies. “I mean, you called me small the other day. And I know you probably, well, definitely, meant it as a cute thing. Like physically. Like a term of endearment, you know? But, I don’t wanna be seen as small, like more than physically. You know what I mean?” You cringed internally at your words, watching him stare blankly back at you.

“Right.”

“I’m so sorry. I sound like such a jerk. I don’t mean to be hung up over one little word you said.” You bit your lip, tasting the remnants of your lipstick on your tongue. “It’s just what made me feel a little weird. But, I do like you, Johnny.” Your heart raced as you looked up at him. Your body moved without permission for the umpteenth time, and your arms melted around his hips, fingers splaying across the small of his back. Your mind screamed at you, but your body ignored it, burning up from within.

Tentatively, he brought one hand to your chin, skin warm but rough on yours. “I don’t think low of you. I never have. I just think you’re so fucking gorgeous. So perfect the way you are.” The butterflies in your stomach were now dancing, free, leaping over hills and grassy plains. “Sorry for the poor choice of words.”

You smiled, some of the tension leaving you as you let your bodies merge seamlessly, like lanes on an open road, like the sun as it meets the horizon. You kicked off your other shoe, standing on your tiptoes to meet his lips with yours. He tentatively glazed his hands over your sides, making you shiver and moan into his mouth. You brought your fingers to the nape of his neck, savouring the taste. “Mmm, Johnn-“

You yelped when he gripped your thigh, guiding it to press against his hips. “Jump up for me, baby.” You giggled, nodding as you straddled him, his torso gently rebounding back with your weight. As you met his lips once more, dragging your forearms across the top of his shoulders, you heard your front door open and close, the door to the downstairs bedroom fling wide open. As your back hit the bed, your hair splayed out onto the fresh sheets, knees bent, lipstick smeared.

Wasting no time to rid himself of his clothes, he spoke. “This room is fine, right?” Muscles bulging as he fiddled with his shirt, the ridges of his chest drawing in the singlet, you bit your finger almost comically. “Hello? Earth to _?” The brown of his eyes were soft, a sharp contrast to his stature. He smirked, his hair bouncing as he threw his head back slightly. “Like what you see?”

“Uh huh.” All the shame left your body as you drew circles on his body and face with your eyes, letting his thick frame tower over you. “Is this okay?” He breathed into your collarbone, and when you nodded fervently, you felt his lips suck and nip at your neck. Gasping, you gripped onto his neck, letting your ankles hook around the back of his jean-clad legs. “Y-yes. Yes please. Don’t tease, I want y-you so much.”

“Yeah?” He played with the buttons of your top, but you stopped him. “I can’t wait…just rip it off, please. I need you. Right now. Please, just use me. I know you can.” He drew an eyebrow upwards, and you almost felt a slight twinge of embarrassment until you heard the top rip, cold air exposing your lace bra, tits bulging as you arched your chest off the bed. “What a slut. Is this what you wanted all along?” He laughed as you wriggled under him, mouth latching onto the tops of your boobs. He released you only to throw your arms up, pinning your wrists down to the bed to watch your reaction. When you bit your lip in response, bringing your core closer to his, he laughed darkly. “Freak.”

“Yes, just for you, fuck, please.”

“Bet you’re just soaked under this tight little skirt. Want me to rip this off too?” You nodded before he could even finish his sentence, and the sound of your fabric ripping filled the air. “Mmm, just as I suspected.” As he dragged your panties down your thighs, you felt your wetness pool onto the sheets under you. “Please, please, hold me down and fuck me.” You whispered into his ear, letting your plump lips graze against his skin as you massaged the nape of his neck with your fingers. You whimpered when his jean-clad bulge bumped against your clit, the burn in your core growing with every passing second.

He kissed you deeply, pulling away at an agonising pace. “Tell me why, baby.” You whined, trying to gather some friction between your legs with no avail. His arms pinned yours to either side of your head, his legs like heavy weights against yours. “Please, I just, I want your cock i-inside me, w-want it to split me open…” He shook his head. “What makes you think I would do that to you? I’m too big for you, honey.”

You whined. “N-no, please. I don’t care, just, push it in me…” He laughed, kissing you. “Please, I want to feel so full…” He shushed you, sitting up to unbuckle his jeans. “Mmm, yes, yes please…” You were just babbling nonsense, the anticipation too intense to bear. His cock sprung out of his boxers, hitting his stomach, precum spilling out the edges of the tip. You heard him rip open a condom packet, dragging it on his length at lightning speed. He ran his cockhead through the folds of your pussy, making you whimper. “So wet.” He breathed, and you gasped as his tip entered you at an agonisingly slow place. “J-Johnny.” Your brain fought your body, wanting him to continue but feeling apprehensive at the impending stretch. “You’re so big. Fuck.” You snuck a hand down towards your clit, but Johnny grabbed your wrist, leaning over to kiss your chin. “Let me.” As he pressed one finger onto your core, you gasped, back arching, eyes squeezing shut. “O-oh, oh my…”

“You like that?” He started speeding up, your gasps and moans like drugs to his system. When he pulled away, he started pushing his length in, and you let out a deep breath, as if you had been holding it in the entire time. “Fuck.” You drawled, feeling him in every corner of your insides. “Fuck, Johnny. You’re, you’re so big, and s-strong.”

Johnny laughed, and you wondered for a second whether you had ruined the mood. “My cock making you lose your filter, babe?” You blushed, but the constant bump and stretch on your clit had your vision go foggy, your head spinning deliriously. You used your forearms to push away, breathing deeply as if his cock had suffocated you from the inside out. Johnny wrapped his arms around your hips, bringing you flush against his pelvis in one swift movement. “Uh uh, where do you think you’re going?” His snarkiness and the fulness in your lower stomach made your core squeeze excessively. “Ah, shit! Fuck, I think I’m gon-“ You felt it before you could finish your sentence, your climax stealing the words out of your mouth, making your heart thump incessantly against your ribcage.

Johnny cooed at your, his forearms now caging you by your head, peppering light kisses on your face. “You alright, sweet girl?” You nodded, gasping. “Please, please move.” He chuckled, groaning as he pulled back to thrust into you, making you throw your head back and scream. “Fuck, oh my god.” Your body shook with the force of his steady thrusts, his legs pinning your body down to the bed. “Good girl, that’s it.” He groaned, getting sloppier as he reached his climax. “You’re so good for me. So eager for me to pin you down and fuck you. Because I’m so big and strong, right?” You reached for Johnny’s neck, the embarrassment at your previous comments leaving you as you felt your core tighten, coil ready to snap. “Fuck, you just gripped me so tight, fuck. Nasty girl.” You moaned as you came, feeling him release inside the condom with a throaty moan.

Both of you heaving, gasping for air, you pulled Johnny close to your body, kissing his collarbone, his neck, his face. “I do like you, a lot.” Your breath tickled his skin as you spoke, and he stroked your hair gently with one hand, using the other to pull away from you to look into your eyes. “I’m sorry for calling you small. I admit, it’s a little weird.”

“Apology accepted. I think we’ve both called each other things we’re never gonna say again.”

“No, hon, you should always call me big and strong Johnny-“

“Johnny, please. Never mention that again. It was a moment of weakness!” You whined, shielding your face as he laughed, slipping off you to lie next to you on the bed. “Kinda sexy though.” You slapped his arm playfully, laughing as slipped down his forearm to take his hand in yours.

“I’ll think of something better for next time, promise.”

[thatsmybook]

Just rewatching the documentary and just before 4 mins in, Lisa is explaining to Omar her thought process for what will be the main dilemma/ crux of the show, and it made me realise what exactly Simon was saying when he broke up with Wille at the end of Episode 5. He was saying: I've seen what the monarchy does to you and how it hurts you, I've experienced it myself, so I have additional empathy for how that must feel for you. Also, I, too, am being hurt by it (see all of season 3 when he's not smiling with Wille). I thought I could try it out for your sake to see if I could handle it because you're worth it.

But after spending the birthday day with Prince Wilhelm and the Royal Court, he sees that it will continue to hurt both of them, and there will be no respite, things will only get worse. He has seen Wille get worse right in front of him on that day. It is poisoning Wille, and he is becoming someone he doesn't recognise. Simon decides that he does not want that to happen to either of them. The only thing he can do is leave the system so it can stop hurting him. Unfortunately, because Wille is entwined with Prince Wilhelm, it means he has to leave Wille too.

To me, by staying with Wille, Simon is condoning bad behaviour or the status quo by just going along with everything the Royal Court says while they both slowly deteriorate. So though he leaves Wille to save himself, he is also saving Wille because he is showing Wille that this is not alright, boundaries have to be put in place somewhere and Wille needs to start setting some boundaries for himself too. If Wille thought that Simon would stick around to support him and occasionally be someone he could lash out to, then he may not have felt the need to save himself from the monarchy. Because Simon is around to hold him up.

So for King Wilhelm truthers, Simon is required to know his place as an aid to the King, whilst suppressing his own pain and never putting pressure on the King by asking for help with his own issues. There is never a time when they would be equal in their relationship, even in private, because everything about Simon's values, ambitions, and passions would have to be deleted. King Wilhelm's needs would come first. This is what class does. It sets up hierarchies of certain humans' needs being more important than others and even that certain humans are superior/supreme to others. Therefore, to function, it needs lackeys who know their place to serve those on top. Hillerska, as an institution, is a mirror of Simon's relationship as a partner for the next king. Hillerska being closed is the equivalent of Lisa abolishing the monarchy. (By the way, there's a real-life incident of the 16 year old Prince of Denmark having to be removed from his elite school when issues of sexual abuse and other scandals came to light. This happened in 2022).

On a side note, this made me think about the Duke's role as consort and imagine that that would be Simon's role to model himself on. If we want Wille to remain as a Crown Prince and have his boyfriend, do we want Simon to become as bland and ineffective as the Duke is, where all of his focus is solely on the Queen's needs. Smoothing over any rough patches with innane conversation and totally neglecting and not 'seeing' his child. Simon deserves to be himself, as does Wille.

[nthspecialll]

Red Dead History: My problems with it

Red Dead History is a book that does a great job at casting light over the history and background to the scenes, places and troubles we meet in Red Dead Redemption 2. Talking about both the things done well and the things done not so well, what is true to the time and place and what is not.

It is clear that the author knows alot about history and studied it, however there are times where I find it clear he spent more time focused on the real history rather than the in game and thus forgetting facts and drawing wrong conclusions.

When talking about the real life criminals that Dutch and Arthur are based on (Butch Cassidy, Sundance Kid and their gang The Wild Bunch) this very lovely and wrong sentence comes up: "Like Dutch and company, the Wild Bunch undertook robberies primarily for personal gain, not as a moral crusade against capitalism. Butch and Harry, like the van der Linde crew, certianly had a disdain for the corporate titans of their day, but it was desire for their wealth far more than social justice that motivated their heists." (The Wild Bunch, page 86) I do not think the author understood Dutch Van Der Linde very well, I don't think he understood the gang very well.

Dutch is a man based on princips, who can be found on any time of the day reading a philosopher who challenges capitalism and questions what man has become. "Men are fixated on greed, on desire, and on the acquisition not of experiences or pleasures but the ability to acquire." This is Dutch's hero, and he has several interactions with different characters like Mary-Beth, Molly, John, Abigail, Lenny and Arthur reading up quotes and discussing them, praising Miller to the heavens!

If that is not enough, lets look at the very first bank robbery that they commited, they did not keep the money, they gave it to the poor! And they still have their morals, like not robbing the poor, only the rich. We also have the fact that Javier joined the gang because of these morals, because he agreed with them.

While in the end, yes it might have been more for themselves, to get them to Tahiti because they got too big a price on their head, the majority of their time has not been.

Another example, just a bit further down the page that is wrong: "Another parallel to Arthur and Dutch, Butch Cassidy had a pronounced distaste for the racist ideologies so dominant around the turn of the century." While I can agree with him on Arthur, I can't agree with him on Dutch, Dutch is fairly racist, slowing his speech with people of other origins, calling Bronte a slur and "Here we are in this strange land of Papists and rapists." Papists meaning catholics, and the fact that a lot of minorities were hated on due to being catholics. (Read more detailed here)

Now this sentence is followed by: "One Black gambling companion of the gang noted that if anyone treated him unfairly, Butch would "get after them" with furious vengeance." Now that is not at all like Arthur or Dutch who are both in on the "stand up for youself" idea which is why they condone Micah because they expect Javier, Lenny and Charles to stand up for themselves. They ain't going to do anything. Also when they return with Sadie and Micah complains about having to sleep around people of color, Butch would have acted, Dutch and Arthut did not.

Several many pages later while talking about blood feuds we have this line "Like the mysteriously stolen gold from Red Dead Redemption 2" (The Blood Feud, 235) where I would like to point out that it is neither mysterious nor stolen(at least not by who you think). While it is not told in the story, we as players have the ability to learn about what happened to the gold.

On an island not far outside Saint Denis, hidden under a tree in a chest we can find a letter. This letter comes from Lucille Braithewaite and was written in 1803 to a Douglas Gray, whoms story was esencially that of Penelope and Beau, except Lucille was exiled by her family and took her family money, hiding it for Douglas to find and give to an organisation that would abolish slavery.

While it is not common knowledge about the letter, the other two things are, and if you are writing and publishing a book I would expect you to know your things.

A minor problem I have with his writing is that he puts the player experience into unenssesary boxes. For example he talks about the KKK and how Arthur encountered them: "One evening soon after their arrival, Arthur is riding on the outskirts of the dusty plantation town of Rhodes when he notices a constelllation of bright lights in the nearby woods." (The white-hooded menace, 115) He continues to talk about how Arthur curiously dismounts and sees who it is and that the player then has the choice to kill the KKK or watch them die.

While I do understand setting a scene, I think it is such an unessesary thing to add with the timing and place and what Arthur does when reacting to them. Rdr2 is known for being so unique and it feels so wrong to remove that, also because this encounter can happen at any time pretty much anywhere. I have never met them in Rhodes but I have met them in Big Valley twice, one time in chap 6 and one time with John.

Similarly he talks about the racist guy in Saint Denis and how it leads to the "inevitable conclusion of violence, with Arthur beating ot shooting the pamphleteer" (The Paradox of race, 96) as if it isn't completely possible to just walk away. And it isn't like the author never talks about the many choices the player can make, for example he talks about how Rockstar was under critisism because some boys had a kick out of tying up and killing women NPCs in different ways.

Red dead is such a wide experience and I don't understand why he is trying to narrow it down and tie it up into a box when he could have gotten his point across without needing to.

Last point I want to talk about is his idea for red dead three, that being Arthur Morgan in 1871 (Epilogue, 242), where I feel that it is more because he liked the time period more than anything. Arthur would be eight at this point and living with his dad (the one pic we have of him is taken in 1874). From what the author presents of the time period it does sound interesting with a lot of possibilites but I do not think it should be with Arthur if so, maybe with Black Belle or someone.

While I do really like all the history facts that the author brings, I am surprised at his lack of understanding for the gang considering his 3 playthroughs and 300 hours in game.

I have also heard rumors of historical inacuracies, and I am trying to dig deeper into that to see if there is something, but if anyone uses his work for something I would fact check him just to be safe.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

A) You are mean to Vaggie

B) Obligatory Complication: Emily is crushing impossibly hard on Vaggie and hangs out with Charlie as much as possible for vicarious enjoyment.

harold we have a problem?? ALL OF THEM ARE GAY AND NONE OF THEM HAVE CUSTODY OF THE BRAIN CELL!!!!

thing is tho i could totally see a version of Emily that latches onto Vaggie in some kind of emotional way

Emily's faith in heaven was shaken by Sera and the revelation of the exterminations...... Emily finds out her older sister and the head of the seraphim of heaven has known about Adam killing souls this whole time- was hiding it AND condoning it- which Emily HAS to take a stand against because it's wrong-

and then Emily finds out about Vaggie.

She sees how a lowly exorcist is living in hell now, has been for years, and is running a hotel to redeem sinners. She sees. Hope.

How frustrated was Emily at the end of season 1? The next extermination goes ahead in spite of Emily fighting against it, Sera won't listen, she's not allowed to even watch it happen, she's sitting across from Sera doing PAPERWORK while people die and then Pentious is there and presumably tells them how the fight went up until his death, probably mentions how Charlie and Vaggie worked together to prepare the hotel and were fighting in the thick of the battle- and then Lute comes back missing an arm and Adam is dead and the hotel is being rebuilt-

An angel fought alongside the sinners who she used to kill, she risked her life for them...

That could be such a point of hope for Emily to cling to.

Someone in heaven did think it was wrong. One of Adam's very own soldiers, even.

I could see her getting a bit desperate to know more about Vaggie. Wanting to find out what made her switch from killing souls to saving them, how long did it take, did anything help, why did she ever think it was okay in the first place

(Emily trying to understand Sera by proxy because it hurts less this way)

And of course Emily's easiest source of Vaggie Lore would be Charlie, Vaggie's girlfriend, the only part of the hotel running duo who is actually interested in talking about anything other than purely heaven-hell related business and who will stop glaring silently long enough to chat

Naturally, given Vaggie's bad history with heaven, Charlie would be RELIEVED to see how one high ranking angel seems to actually care about her girlfriend

So Charlie would answer the Vaggie questions eagerly, bc she loves talking Vaggie and wants her to have a powerful ally up in heaven and also maybe the whole Rosie thing showed her how helpful it is to talk with someone other than her gf about her gf and Emily is so nice and kind and they can trust her and she listens so intently and Charlie's so happy this one thing is working out and she can't stop smiling about it-

and meanwhile. Vaggie is just out of earshot. Grinding her TEETH

Romantic or not, in the same way that Charlie and Emily could bond over caring about the people under their protection so much, Emily might look at Vaggie and feel a need to get closer to her. To connect with the only other angel who really seems to GET it

heck, Vaggie being in hell running the hotel might even be a point of admiration and slight envy for Emily.

A seraphim can talk to the other high ranking angels, but what use does that feel like its serving, if they don't listen? Emily can shepherd Pentious around his new life in heaven but it's HEAVEN, what is THAT compared to helping a sinner carve out some kind of better life for themselves down in hell, where the help is really NEEDED? And while it makes sense Charlie would be down there doing that, she's princess of hell- Vaggie shows how angels could be doing it too. They could be making a real, tangible difference every day, instead of....

I could see the idea of Vaggie becoming something Emily thinks about a lot

[pennyellee]

CHAPTER II - sponsalia

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of God, mention of drugs, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of death, overwhelming, violence, sexual tension

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 6,7K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER III

sponsalia (n.) engagement

The heavy rain casts a hazy veil over the world around her and the sound of them reminds her of the storm that rages within. The last memory is coming through the light once she opens her eyes and sees, now, familiar surroundings. Lost and trapped. She wishes this to be only a mere nightmare she will wake up from. Her voice sore and barely audible, she whispers into the quiet room illuminated by the fire from the fireplace, “Why did you let this happen, my lord?” Knowing deep down that her question will remain unanswered, she longs for just one response—

“A twist of fate, perhaps, my little dove.”

She does not dare to turn herself to the voice, never before feeling such overwhelming fear. Her heart aches with sadness and is reigned by fear and perhaps a tinge of disappointment at her inability to escape and flee the spars of this world.

“No courage now? You displayed enough when you injured one of my men,” he chuckles with a sly grin, thoroughly intrigued by the woman lying in his bed.

“Is he alright?” She rises from the bed, unaware that every word she utters draws him even deeper.

“Are you concerned for his well-being or worried that this sin will lead you to hell?” He arches an eyebrow, curiously expecting her answer.

Lowering her gaze to her trembling hands, she stammers, “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I just needed to get away.”

‘A pure soul,’ he contemplates silently. This very woman might just be his endgame. He is determined but wishes to interrogate more. Seizing the opportunity when her guard momentarily falters, he taunts.

“Get away from me? Or was there something else, darling?” He knows he knows it all and a lot more, yet he is so intrigued to hear it from her.

“Can I leave?”

“No, —” he said quickly “—I asked you a question.”

“Why can’t I leave?” Y/N asked again, more determined to get a real answer once she started to feel an epiphany about her situation.

“Why would you want to leave?” he counters.

And for once, she started to think strongly about what awaits her once she leaves. Apart from her oppressive home, where punishment or death looms, she has nowhere else to go. Y/N failed to get away.

“Are you from the Yakuza?” she mutters, finally realising he never disclosed his identity.

“Min Yoongi,” he simply uttered his name, knowing it will answer her question. Her pupils are dilated, and her breathing gets shallow.

“Will you answer my question…. Y/N?”

Her heart races, desperately trying to regain control of her breath, but her mind remains scattered. Min. His name echoes in her mind. He stands before her, the man her father would never make peace with. It always comes down to two choices — either they strike a deal or engage in a bloody war, murdering each other’s men. Here he is, right in front of her. She has fallen into the arms of the enemy. Not only will her father punish her for running away, but now she also faces another punishment for being caught by an enemy.

“It seems there is a lot on your mind now, darling. Let me alleviate some of your burdens,” he says standing up from the low armchair by the fireplace, walking towards the bed. Her instincts urge her to retreat, her eyes welling up with tears of sorrow and fear.

“Don’t be afraid of me. If you play your cards right and obey, I promise nothing will happen to you, my love,” he murmurs, using a term of endearment that catches her attention.

“That’s it, baby. Breathe and calm down,” he whispers soothingly.

She locks eyes with him, drawn into their depths, a place where few dare to venture. Nobody dares to look directly into the leader’s eyes. She, even in this state, does so.

“Your father can’t punish you no more. You can find the freedom you seek by my side,” he says, his gaze fixed on her, memorizing every detail.

“What do you mean?” She asks with a newfound venom in her voice.

“You think I would allow your old man to marry you off to Yamamoto’s retarded excuse of a son and assure Tokyo’s alliance with Hong Kong?” He laughs.

“Heaven sent you to me, my love.” he continues, a sickly chuckle escaping his lips.

“And if you’re wondering how it benefits me to have you here, darling, I believe you’re smart enough to figure it out.”

She realises that if she refuses to marry the yakuza boy, the alliance will crumble, and her father will lose leverage against Seoul and the Mins who reign here. Y/N didn’t plan to marry a Yakuza man nonetheless, but she for sure never planned to stay in the middle of the chess board.

“I must admit, I found it admirable that you’ve managed to run away from China, through Luen’s north side, to our territory in the south, very brave,” he points out, acknowledging her efforts. “—and get to Jeju, right to Chan-yeol—” he says.

“You made it so easy for me. Thank you for that.” There is a hint of pleasure in his voice when he continues to speak.

“I bet your Sire didn’t expect that at all,” he grins. “You have a fire in you, my dear, —” he focuses back on her, “—and I cannot wait to tame you,” his voice shifting from casual to intimidating.

“You will make a fine wife,” Yoongi states.

“I’ll be no one’s wife. You must think me a fool if you believe I’ll marry you or anyone else from your circus,” she spits out defiantly. He stares at her silently.

“Careful,” he finally warns, surprising her with his calm demeanour. To get or inherit the position of leader, one must possess the patience of steel and a wise, calculating mind. All this and more, is embodied in the young leader, Min.

“I have my ways to persuade you that I’m the best thing that ever happened to you. You’ll realise that along the way,” he says, seemingly playing with her mind. ’Lord, please, you must have mistaken me for someone else,’ she silently prays.

“Care to elaborate?” she dares to ask.

“Your little cousin and her husband, and their little adorable son —” he trails off.

“You wouldn’t,” she quickly interrupts him.

“Oh, I would, darling. And even more. What about your sister, hmm? Isn’t she turning eighteen soon? My right-hand man is ready to take a wife...” he taunts.

“You cannot play with lives! Not with mine or others —” she snaps.

“Yes, I can, my little butterfly—” he says, gripping her chin forcefully and bringing her closer to his face, locking eyes with her.

“People follow me and worship me as if I were a god. My wife won’t be excluded. Or do you wish for bloodshed and potential homicide?” he mocks.

“Be grateful I saved you from that imbecile you were supposed to marry,” he adds, releasing her chin as she immediately rubs the numb spot with teary eyes.

“After all, you’ve just become a peace offering, my dear. God has a plan, and we shall obey the lord,” he asserts. She raises her eyes back to him, the tension between them palpable, amplified by the continuing rain outside, playing its role in the orchestra of her sorrow.

“You don’t have a choice, darling,” he declares, his words stinging her soul as they hang in the air.

“Either you stay under my protection, be a good girl, marry me, and obey, or I’ll deal with your clan brutally,” he states, rising from the bed and walking toward the door.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to negotiate the terms with your old man.”

“Get more rest.” He looked at her for the last time and closed the door behind him. A click of the lock follows. Only now, she allowed herself to cry out loud.

’You said that if I’ll help myself, lord will help me too.’ She cried, desperately. Run away from the oppressed life of a future mafia wife, just to get even closer to marriage and marital duties, autonomy out of reach.

The overwhelming sense of loneliness and fear of an uncertain future weighs heavily on her. Would it be easier to go back home, and get beaten up and punished? Or would it be easier to stay and accept she will never get away from this life?

There is something she sees in his eyes, but she cannot figure out what it is. She’s exhausted from the run, from all the thinking and future battles she will have to participate in. Her eyes are slowly closing, and her consciousness is failing her again.

“Good morning, Buin,” a voice called out, causing her to squint her eyes from the sudden stream of light entering the room. Grumbling, she pulled the blanket up higher to shield herself.

“Doctor Kim will pay you a visit today, Buin.” the voice continued, and her eyes snapped open. Reality set in, and she realized this wasn’t just a bad dream — she wasn’t home.

“A doctor?” She said, successfully ignoring how she called her the lady of the house.

“Sajangnim requested that we draw you a bath so you can relax and clean yourself,” the little lady replied with a big smile, clearly infatuated with her “Sajangnim”. Rolling her eyes at the maid’s innocence, she welcomed the suggestion of a bath. This westernised hanok must have a bathing room hidden somewhere in its wooden maze. Accepting the white hanfu offered to her, she eagerly anticipated the chance to have her long hair washed. It had become a tangled mess after days of neglect. Maybe she would finally be able to wear her hair down, something she had never been allowed to do before. Her scalp was always sore from the numerous hairpins and clips used to hold her hair in the complicated styles she despised. And perhaps, she could even cut her hair.

“We’re here, Buin,” the maid interrupted her thoughts, leading her to a wooden door that swung open. The sight of a bathroom in a house, a luxury reserved for urban dwellers, reflected the wealth of the syndicate.

She entered the room, and the maid closed the door from inside. The water was already in the large wooden bathtub, steaming hot, beckoning her to submerge herself. It was spacious enough for her to float on the surface if she wanted to. The maid prepared her soaps and other hygiene products. She will clean herself as she graciously declined her help.

“Sajangnim said that if you were to resist his hospitality and commands he gave us, he shall come and help you himself.” The girl said with no emotion in her voice. She memorised it by heart.

“You can tell Sajangnim to stay put,” she muttered in response.

“Buin—” the girl attempted again but Y/N waved her off. She didn’t want to treat the poor girl in this mean manner, but she desired an alone time.

“Please…just wait outside.” Y/N pleaded. Reluctantly, the girl obliged, but she was certain she would report back to her master in a heartbeat. Besides, Y/N had nowhere to escape within the confines of this room.

She shed the lightweight hanfu and slowly lowered herself into the steaming water, feeling her muscles gradually relax. At least for a moment, her mind started to ease the running thoughts, calming the storm down.

Until she heard his voice. Her body immediately tensed up. She strained to listen to the conversation — or rather, the series of commands directed at the poor gal.

“Doctor Kim has arrived, make sure she is ready in the master bedroom in fifteen minutes. Tell the staff to prepare lunch for us in the garden after.” His voice was gone after this, and a soft knock followed. 

“Buin—” the maid’s voice called softly, and by that time, Y/N was already hurriedly putting the hanfu back on.

“I’m coming,” she sighed.

She stopped the servant girl once she wanted to put her hair up in a bun. Now back in the room, sitting in a closet the devil managed to obtain for her as if he knew she will come. It was full of beautiful qipao’s but also some Korean hanboks and even some traditional Chinese beizis if she wanted to get more comfortable presumably. Among them, she noticed some lingerie, which internally made her nauseous with anxiety. Her hair was longer than she remembered, as she rarely wore it down.

“I suggest you keep the hanfu while Doctor Kim is here and then we shall clothe you in a dress.” To say she was scared and nervous about what this Doctor Kim will want to see or do was understandable.

“Here she is!” A loud and cheery voice echoed in the bedroom. “You caused quite a commotion, sweetie. I’m thrilled to finally meet you,” said the handsome man who entered the room with a leather suitcase and white coat.

“Doctor Kim, I presume,” She assumed. He was undeniably attractive, much like his Kkangpae. But she wouldn’t admit that for some time.

“For you, sweetie, it’s Seokjin. We’re going to be family, after all,” he smiled, attempting to put her at ease. He couldn’t help but notice her guarded demeanour. She scoffed at his proclamation, as expected.

“So,” he clapped his hands together, “let’s talk about you and your health, darling,” he said while searching for an empty file with her name.

“I want you to know that I won’t tell him a damn thing unless it’s necessary, you can trust me,” he stated.

“Except whether or not I’m a virgin, right?” she retorted in a cocky voice, mocking the messed-up mafia system.

“If you want to start with that, you can lie down, and I’ll check,” he sassed back with a smirk. Something told her they would only be friends for a very brief moment as long as she remained in this place.

“So, are you?” he asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“What if I’m not?” she tilted her head to the side. He chuckled.

“I see your point, but that wouldn’t free you from the engagement. He would simply have the man who touched you slaughtered to show his power,” he explained. She straightened herself, taking a deep breath.

“And even though I have to check anyway, it’s not just about your chastity,” he said. She did know, but that didn’t mean she would be comfortable spreading her legs for a stranger.

“Let’s leave that until the very end, shall we?” he smiled at her.

“Have you consumed any contaminated water while you were on the run?” he surprised her with the question.

“No, I don’t think so...” she stammered.

“Besides hurting Hoseok-ssi, did you fight with anyone else and get injured?” So that was the man’s name.

“Is he okay?” she asked, deflecting his question.

“He’s fine, but you should apologise once you meet him. He meant no harm,” he replied. Well, she hadn’t meant any harm either; she just wanted to escape the scene quickly. She nodded in agreement.

“When was the last time you were sick, honey.”

“Sometime last year.” He hummed in response.

“Do you have a family history of any medical conditions or diseases?” he continued with the examination.

“None that I’m aware of,” she shrugged.

“Any reproductive problems in your family?” he asked more seriously.

And here it comes—reducing her to merely a vessel, even before marriage. Just in time, the devil appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his hands in his pockets. “Not on my side,” he interjected.

She didn’t want to give him a glance, but her body failed her. His black hair was tucked behind his ears, a scar shining in its glory on his face. He smiled. And for a moment, she got lost in his eyes again. He’s having an impact on her, and he knows.

“Y/N?” Seokjin called her name to get her attention back to him.

“No, not in my lineage,” her gaze fell again as she listened to what he was asking her.

“Do you smoke?” He asked with curiosity in his voice.

“Uhm, no.” She answered honestly. Y/N had been around cigarettes a lot, but she had never smoked one herself.

“Very good, do not start. It’s not worth it,” he gave his younger brother from another mother a side-eye, and the younger one just rolled his eyes in response. It made her chuckle a little, hoping they wouldn’t hear it. He did but didn’t say a word. Yoongi wanted her to be comfortable around him.

“Alcohol?” he asked while jotting down her previous answers.

“Occasionally?” she questioned herself, as she couldn’t remember the last time, she had a drink.

“Hmm,” he hummed again and wrote it down.

“Do you have any problems with your monthly bleeding?” Seokjin looked into her eyes and glanced at his brother.

“No…” she said awkwardly, gulping down.

“When was the last time you ate?” He looked into her eyes, and she realised she couldn’t recall, nor did she feel hungry until now. Was it the adrenaline?

“I think it was the morning I left Shenyang, five days ago,” she replied.

“You went from Shenyang to Incheon in 5 days?!” He raised his voice which caused him a mean look from his leader.

“How are you not exhausted to death?!” He continued.

“I had some intense drugged sleep. Thank you for your concern, though,” she answered honestly.

“She needs to eat, but she has to do so carefully to avoid upsetting her stomach. Don’t let her overstuff herself,” he instructed his companion. She was starting to feel ravenous; she hadn’t eavesdropped on their conversation, but rather, she was lost in her thoughts, preparing for what would come next.

“Beautiful, I need you to lie down for Seokjin now,” he snapped her out of it.

“What?” with him inside the room?

“It’s not necessary. I can tell him what he needs to know without that,” she protested.

“It’s a rule we follow, dove. We don’t want you to—” she cut him off.

“You just want to know if someone have fucked me before or not. Otherwise, you wouldn’t care,” she spat out. He seemed taken aback by her sudden change of attitude. This is the fire he wanted to desperately extinguish, at least towards him. Jin looked very much shocked but also amused when he glanced at his friend that was startled by this petite Chinese woman.

“I need to check for other reasons as well,” Seokjin said, clasping his hands together.

“Why can’t you just retrieve my medical file?”

“You have a medical file?” He asked, surprised. It was very rare for someone to have a medical file, especially at times after the war, apart from when a young one went to study. An entrance examination was always needed.

“Yes. Send a letter to my college.” She said, not realising she slipped a piece of valuable information out.

“College?” Yoongi asked, clearly shocked. Seokjin wasn’t looking much less surprised than him. She gave them questioning looks, knowing full well why they were so astonished.

“W-What did u study?” Jin stammered the question out. She wasn’t meant to inherit her father’s empire, but she was destined for an arranged marriage to another powerful family. Higher education wasn’t supposed to be part of her life. However, this would explain why she hadn’t been married off at eighteen. They had sent her away to study.

“Nursing.” She shrugged as if her words carried no weight.

“My, my,” said Jin, stroking his chin.

“I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no. As of now, a big no,” she looked at her abductor, confused.

“As of now is good with me!” he clapped his hands together.

“Now, please leave, brother. I don’t think she’ll ever comply if you’re here. I’ll bring her to the garden afterwards,” Yoongi wanted to object, but when he saw the pleading distress in her eyes, he nodded and left his bedroom.

The young leader was proud that she hadn’t tried to run away or throw a tantrum yet. He didn’t want to resort to violence or coercion.

Stone pathways meandered through the garden, inviting one to explore its every corner. She was absorbing her surroundings with a teacup in her small hands. The air was fragrant with the scent of autumn. The wind was a bit chilling as the end of October was nearing. Snow will fall soon. A small pavilion she found herself sitting in beside a koi fishpond that sparkled in the sunlight, felt too peaceful.

“You look absolutely stunning,” said he, his gaze fixed upon her petite figure draped in a flowery pink qipao, her hair elegantly tucked behind her ears. She radiated a natural beauty, untouched by face powders or lipsticks. He loved this vision, an embodiment of purity and innocence. Little did he know, beneath her facade of grace, lay a sharp tongue that defied even the will of God.

She sipped her tea; Y/N ate a little bit of rice and seaweed soup to drive off her hunger. As she admired the garden’s serenity, she found herself drawn not only to its peacefulness but also to the possibility of escape it presented. Perhaps she could run back to Incheon and board a ship that would carry her far away from this place.

“You should know that ‘pretty’ is just a word, and your compliments and pet names won’t win me over. Use my name,” she scoffed, challenging his attempts to woo her.

“That doesn’t mean I’ll stop,” he was determined to break through her defences.

Y/N shot him a piercing stare, a skill she had acquired swiftly. She pondered the enigma of the man before her, wondering how in God’s name she could resist his charm.

“I appreciate that you haven’t attempted to escape yet,” he murmured, sipping his tea. Y/N was no fool; she knew that throwing a fit every second she was held captive would only lead to further confinement. For now, she decided to falsely embrace the last moments of autumn in this beautiful garden, she already scanned in her mind.

“I won’t be very keen on you if you’ll try to,” he warned, his tone shifting unexpectedly. Did he seek to intimidate her, or was he afraid she would succeed in slipping away?

“You seem eager to ask me questions,” said she with cockiness in her voice. Acting tough would make it harder for him to break her will. Not like she counted on a prolonged stay.

“I do,” he hummed in agreement. “But are you willing to answer them, my sweet?” Her eyes rolled at the nickname, accompanied by a scoff. He sighed.

“I’ll answer anything you want, and you’ll answer mine. Deal?” he proposed, a smile playing on his lips.

“That’s quite the cliché, you know,” she declared, placing her cup down just as he eagerly reached to refill it.

“But if it gets you to talk to me, darling, I’ll graciously accept the cliché,” he replied smoothly.

“I know what you want to ask,” she interjected. He was curious about how she managed to study for years without being married off.

“My aunt was very dear to my father. She persuaded him,” she confessed, her words carrying a burden that still weighed on her mind.

“Naturally, my father had intended to marry me off instead of allowing me to pursue my studies. It was still on the table. However, the last war, as you surely recall, brought forth injured, disabled, and dead.”

“I had just turned eighteen. So, my aunt negotiated that I would study nursing in Shenyang instead and be useful to the clan this way. My father saw the merit in her argument and delayed my marriage to whatever his name is—” She explained, her nonchalant tone contrasting with the mention of the man she was meant to marry and the affection she held for her late aunt.

“But my aunt passed away recently and there was no reason for my father to let me stay in Shenyang after I ended my studies. I became more useful to him if I married that boy, as your clan sent a warning. He needed the allyship.” She sighed.

“So I ran the moment we buried my aunt and I was sent back to Shenyang to get my diploma and return.” He listened attentively, aware that her trust was not easily won, and that loyalty would be crucial in their future together. She was still cautious around him, and he wanted her to open up to him even more. It would be a lot easier for her to trust him. But he knew better than that. Trust is earned, and it goes both ways.

“You never met him?” he inquired, referring to her failed engagement.

“No. I don’t think I even remember his name. Father always called him Yamamoto, never by his first name,” she replied. He knew his name well, having encountered him during negotiations for a deal in the past. Officially, Korea remained under Japanese rule, but within the underworld, clans were locked in fierce conflict. Yoongi, longing for peace, knew that Wang’s treaty pact with the Yamamoto clan was a significant obstacle. However, with Y/N’s presence here, the plans could be easily altered. According to the plan.

The cold young leader is not only aiming for her father’s empire and making peace for his clan, he longed for a woman like her. It was about time the leader of the clan took a wife to secure the lineage. Although there was a male heir in her family, who could potentially pose an obstacle, he was still too young to step into the role. Y/N, as the eldest heir, a female, would become an integral part of Yoongi’s plans to secure the future of their clans.

“You crave the throne, don’t you?” she asked, cocking her head and chin defiantly, her narrowed eyes fixed on him.

“I want you too.” She chuckled at his response.

“I’m merely a convenient excuse, am I not?” Y/N smiled too sweetly.

“You’ll kill m—” he rose from his chair, not even letting her finish. Grabbing her by her shoulders in a steel grip with a penetrating gaze.

The fragile cup slipped from her trembling hands and shattered on the floor. A nearby maid prepared to clean up the shattered shards. “Leave us!” he barked at the startled girl; his voice filled with anger. Y/N’s eyes widened. He was even more aggressive and intimidating than before.

“I could—” his voice seething with fury, “— I could gather man and slaughter your entire clan, keeping you as a trophy, a symbol of my power.” The threat hung in the air, and she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Fear was coursing through her, yet she resisted letting it control her.

“Matter of fact—” he continued, his grip tightening on her shoulders, eliciting a whimper of pain from her, “—you will be a symbol of the magnitude my power has, no matter if your father and family remain alive. So, it’s on you. The fate of your kin rests in your hands. Their survival hinges on your decisions and how well you’ll cooperate.” He tightened his grip again, eliciting another whimper of pain from her.

“But I will never dispose of you,” he growled through gritted teeth, his tone a mixture of possessiveness and frustration. Gathering her courage, she managed to speak again, her voice trembling but filled with resolve.

“You cannot manipulate me like this. Do you think I’ll fall for this fucked up scheme? I have spent my entire life under the orders of others, forbidden from making choices for myself! And you have the audacity to use my innocence thinking I will willingly crawl into your bed and love you like a devoted lover.” Venom in her voice and the desperate tone made him fall for her even more.

“I’ve only recently met you, so spare me your attempts to deceive me that you’re being my saviour.” Y/N has enough fire to still conquer and fight him back. “I refuse to be a passive participant in this game.” She shall not take it lying down.

“I’m giving you a choice—” he asserted, his voice laced with a dangerous undertone “—either you’ll walk down the aisle to me or there will be bloodshed. I won’t send you back to your father nor will I relinquish you easily.” His eyes locked onto hers, and she could see the darkness consuming his pupils when anger consumed him.

“Call it love, obsession, or whatever you please, but no matter what imbecile attempts you make to fight or flee, we will inevitably end up together nonetheless,” he declared with conviction. Was this the fate God had laid out for her? Her faith wavered, and if he didn’t assist soon, she shall forbid him altogether.

“You just want to fuck m—” he cut her off abruptly, his voice low and seductive.

“I can either fuck you hard or I can make love to you,” said he, whilst setting her left arm free and sliding his to her thigh, caressing it sweetly.

Breathing started to become harder for Y/N. Unfamiliar sensations welled up in her lower belly whilst his touch was sending shivers through her body. Was this attraction? Excitement? Mother told her this is how love is supposed to feel. Butterflies in her stomach. But she certainly wasn’t in love with her captor.

He sensed her confusion and distress, leaving her to fall back to the chair. Finally letting her breathe freely. Yoongi sat back in his chair, collecting himself and the three-piece suit he wears today.

“Loss of words, innit?” He chuckled.

He was filled with pride, an overwhelming sense of it, knowing the impact he had on her. She dusted her thighs and straightened her dress.

“Remember, it’s your call. Either you’ll go willingly or with coercion,” her gaze piercing through him for change.

“I’m still waiting to hear back from your father, but before we proceed, I need to go over some rules I expect you to follow before and after we’re wed,” he said, picking up his cup of tea again.

“I know the rules. Just because I went to study doesn’t mean I wasn’t prepared to be the wife of any higher-profile mafia member,” she replied, and he chuckled.

“What’s so funny, care to share?” She asked her sass back.

“Not those kinds of rules. I know you’re prepared for that. But entertain me, baby. What do you think I’ll ask of you?” he said, grinning mischievously, his chin resting between his thumb and forefinger.

“You’ll hand me the household finances after, not like I already agreed, I see no ring yet —”

“—not interfere in business affairs, maintain a low profile to avoid unnecessary attention, and be nothing more than a pretty face, spread your legs and pop out heirs.” He listened to her, amused. She is vaccinated with these dynamics as her mother underwent the same and taught her to do so. However, to Yoongi’s unluckiness, she inherited her whim and flame too.

“You don’t need to manage the household; we have people for that. But if you wish to change anything in the budget, you of course can, sweetling,” he responded, surprising her with his contradictory words.

“I don’t want you to be just a pretty face because you have to. Your fire will be beneficial for me once in a while. If I ever tell you to sit still and look pretty, it would be a matter of life and death, a means to protect you, —”

“—See? I can be very good.” He said, sipping his cold tea, leaving it in his mouth to warm a little while he is thinking. He found great joy in evoking emotions from her.

“You can involve yourself in the business as much as you desire, but I doubt you’ll want to engage in those activities. For your safety, I would sleep better if you were always by my side once we’re engaged and married shortly after.” He stressed out the last word.

“Once we’ll be engaged and wed, your loyalty to your father will transfer to me, and me only” he emphasised his voice firm.

“I won’t force you to be intimate with me after the wedding night, although I’m sure you’ll come to desire it,” he said with a sickly grin, causing her stomach to churn. She needed a moment to process everything he told her by far.

“I saw how you reacted to me earlier. You will enjoy our time in the bedroom, surely.” He spoke as if it wasn’t taboo.

“I-” she stammered and hesitated. He stunned her. Broke down to her core, and he wanted to dig even further.

“I’m aware.” He replied to her unspoken utterance.

She leaned into her chair further, feeling so small suddenly, so inexperienced. Y/N remembers a boy with black hair and green eyes who she had a crush on. He kissed her one night under a cherry blossom tree in their garden. Her father got to know, and she never saw him since.

“All of this comes with one rule: obedience. You will obey as a good girl, and everyone will be happy,” he declared firmly.

“But disobedience won’t be tolerated,” he added, his tone unwavering.

“I want our marriage to be right, as it should be. I won’t force you to be intimate with me. I mean it,” he tried to assure her.

“—Apart from the wedding night, which speaking of, I still didn’t say, ’Yes, I will’.” He laughed and got up from his chair. Her choices and chances were limited. Even if she would manage to escape, he would go on a killing spree till he would get her back. Min Yoongi was very much interested and devoted to marrying this young female.

He knelt on one knee in front of her. A scenery one could perceive as a loving couple is ready to pursue a life journey together. She hadn’t expected him to propose before her father’s agreement, let alone in such a proper manner. Y/N knew better, she just wanted to tease him back.

This wasn’t how mafia members typically behaved, especially the Kkangpae, who never bowed or knelt to anyone. A sign of respect and reverence. Is she to be fooled again? Was he trying to earn her trust with this pretentious act or is he truly showing her respect? Countless questions stormed her mind, causing her inner turmoil. A thunder and lightning bolt within.

He pulled out a velvet little box from his inside pocket and slowly opened it before her shocked figure. The ring glistened in the light. She hates to admit it, but it was marvellous. The delicate band, crafted from shimmering gold, was embellished with intricate filigree that snaked its way around the band in a dance of beauty. Sapphire, shining atop the band surrounded by smaller diamonds, a starry night sky, each one a glimmering testament to the masterful skill of the jeweller. The ring must be older than she or him.

“Miss Wang—” said he, staring into her soul and making her look away from the ring. “—You would honour me if you shall decide to spend, thou life by my side. I promise to protect you and respect you if you have me.”

Confusion would be the correct term, as just moments ago, he held her in a punishing grip, issuing threats. She mustered the courage to ask him once more. “Why?”

He smiled at her so widely. This smile was different. “Please don’t give me any sweet bullshit or I swear—” he interrupted her.

“All you think is my reason — is my reason. I’m not going to lie to you. Just know…this is God’s will, and God presented you to me as a life companion. You can put your fear aside and stand up to me. You’re a challenge I’m determined to embrace, and God knows I’ll do my best to make you mine,” he explained, his tone serious and earnest.

Would God allow him to do anything to conquer her and this world? His words resonated deep within her soul, stirring something within her. Will Father punish her once he will arrive here if he is even coming here? He has to. She knows. If she will get engaged, he will have to come and give him his blessing.

Mother. She wanted to desperately hide in her mother’s arms. Is she ready to confine herself to someone else than her mother, sister, or aunt? Her poor aunt must be restless in her grave. She wanted only the best for her. A different life than the one of someone’s wife; at least that’s what she believed.

“So, what will it be? Shall I send my man to gear up or—” She didn’t let him finish. Y/N didn’t want anyone else to die or get hurt because she wanted her freedom so selfishly. She questioned her faith and wondered if this was truly the path that had been laid out for her.

Is this her path?

“I will.”

It must be.

He smiled brightly. He is one step closer to orchestrating in her heart. It’s her verdict whether it will be an easier or difficult and rocky path. He took the ring out of its box, reaching for her left hand. Sliding the ring on her finger.

Slowly, he raised her hand to his lips, gently placing a kiss on her skin. He didn’t break eye contact the whole time, which made her uneasy. Y/N didn’t expect the leader to close the distance between them and lean to her, still holding her hand. Her breath picked its pace, and her lips parted a little; she gasped when he was getting too close. Y/N felt so stiff and frozen. Almost brushing his lips with hers—

“Sajangnim—?” A voice echoed. Unwillingly and frustrated, he turned his head to the staff member of the household. Y/N turned her head in the opposite direction, her chest heaving rapidly as she struggled to catch her breath.

“What?!” he barked; his anger evident.

“Mr Wang is on the telephone.”

I N T E R L O G U E

“How long will she be out?” Asked the leader, pacing front and back in his office. It had only been a few minutes since the son of his late father’s captain of the front force had brought her back to their territory. She appeared serene as he carried her into his room and gently laid her on the bed. Although he had a maid ready to change her clothes, he couldn’t resist the urge to do it himself.

“Hopefully she’ll sleep most of the evening and night,” Chan-yeol replied.

“I see,” answered the leader, trying to mask his concern. He realised how much he yearned for her presence.

“Everything will work out right, Kkangpae?” Chan-yeol asked, seeking reassurance.

“Of course. How is your wife, Chan-yeol?” Yoongi replied confidently. He vividly recalls her disparagement of this plan, as if her opinion mattered to him. She had shown a protective instinct towards her, much like her mother had. It stirred conflicting emotions within him.

“She won’t be a problem, I promise.” His voice was laced with a hint of fear. It was only natural to be afraid of someone like Yoongi.

The plan was for her to reach Jeju Island, and stumbling upon the warehouse was a mere coincidence—a twist of fate that strengthened Yoongi’s belief in their union. The way she looked into his eyes made him breathless.

His heart burned for her even more than ever before.

to be continued

author’s note: yall I have to say I didn't expect that much of love for my baby. Thank you all beautiful creatures! Feels very surreal. Thank you for all the love, reblogs and comments. I love you, I see you. I hope you enjoyed the first and second chapter and will look forward to the next one ♥ Stay tuned for the preview of chapter III soonish ♥

Also I tried to add everyone who asked to the tag list, and if you want to be in too or you ain't tagged properly, comment or dm ♥

Shout out to Bex the queen @chaoticpuff17 for beta reading this chapter and shout out to all her bombastically good fics!! ♥ ily♥

Love you!!!!

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love,

𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

taglist: @chaoticpuff17 @honsoolgloss @jingerbreadoutofstock @moocow778 @janura26 @dinosolecito @yoongislatinagff @xyahrinx @ruhmoojeonjunkook-blog @hi12345567 @nochue @deltamoon666 @bbkissme99 @darkuni63 @nansasa @sazsazsaz @missmin @strxwbloody @royallyjjk @jaiuneamesolitaiire @shadowyjellyfishfest

©pennyellee. please do not repost

[lover-of-mine]

Okay, so, I'm fully aware of the platform I accidentally created with the whole network, and I love being the place people come for information and a good laugh about the madness. But I am a person. I am also only one person. I get a whole lot of asks in a day, I try to answer as many as I can but sometimes my life gets in the way and sometimes the things I'm getting kill my vibe and make me less inclined to sit through my inbox for hours. I filter as much as I can, sometimes the sheer volume of asks filter things too. I'm just the messenger. I'm not gonna let you use me to rage bait because I'm the one who takes the heat for it. Is my name attached to the asks. I don't condone with what's been happening, the blogs who take things too far or whoever it was who wrote that fic. I don't know who wrote it, if it was an angry buddie shipper or a disturbed bucktommy one or someone outside of the mess who wants to have fun putting us against each other, but I know that I don't want anything to do with that individual or individuals. But to act like they somehow speak for the whole buddie fandom is messed up. To expect every buddie fan to public denounce them is messed up. Unfortunately, there has always been fucked up fics posted to ao3. Are we gonna chase down everyone who wrote fics where Chim is abusive towards Maddie, or where Eddie is Buck's Doug, or the very disturbing Ana bashing fics that include shit ranging from her kidnapping Chris to her raping Buck too then? We've seen a bt shipper say that Eddie should kill himself because Ryan's experience would make the scene realistic, but I never expected anyone to apologize for her behavior because I know she's not the norm and she's the only one responsible for the shit she says. No one here speaks for anyone. But dissecting why a character acts the way he does when he has a canon past of bigotry does not give anyone the right to say that the only reason something disturbing is happening is because I said something mean about Tommy. That fic is fucked up. But the only person responsible for it is whoever wrote it. If I knew who that was, trust me, I would be putting them on blast, but I don't. Some of you need to get off your high horse. No one can control fandom, and a witch hunt just because someone found a burner account that may or may not be responsible for shit and attacking everyone because they are being followed by them is not it. It's not gonna solve anything. To try and make anyone who said something negative about Tommy responsible is not it. I'm a real person. I know y'all only see a hockey player's picture and a 5sos song url, but I'm a person. I am not a newspaper and I'm also not the spokesperson for the buddie fandom who needs to make a statement about these awful things happening. I'm not the one creating the unsafe space. My shit is properly tagged, I stay in my blog, I don't go chasing people I don't agree with just to pick a fight. But y'all do love dragging me into shit I have nothing to do with. What happened is fucked but can we stop blaming the whole fandom for the actions of a very small portion of it?

[yinyuedijun]

NIGHT FLOWER: part i — additional end notes

tw: omegaverse, slavery, sexual abuse, racism, gendered violence

hi everyone! if you're here then that means that you read the first chapter of my abomination of an omegaverse fic (thank you and I'm sorry). I understand that slave aventurine fics are very heavily criticised and perceived in a certain way in this fandom because they touch on very sensitive topics. as such, I wanted to explain the intent of this fic in its exploration of these themes, to avoid being misread.

the main reason I chose to make this an omegaverse fic and frame it in the context of slavery is because I wanted to explore how gender-based violence (gbv) intersects with racism, particularly for a character like aventurine (whose canon arc is already couched within ethnic violence and slavery). I did not write these themes for the purpose of eroticising them.

speaking of sexual violence + racism, canon already does actually have some basis for it that may escape EN players. sparkle, during her racist tirade against aventurine, explicitly calls sigonians “交际花” — which can mean “courtesan”, and also doubles as a derogatory term for women who “socialise” to gain wealth/status. so when this fic depicted fetishization of the avgin people, that was partly done out of connection to what is already implied by canon.

one thing that people may find unusual about the interpretation of omegaverse in this fic is that the reader is also subject to gbv as an alpha. while alphas are still alluded to as a privileged, oppressive class here (per omegaverse genre conventions lol), I find it hard to believe that alphas as a class would completely escape gendered violence, especially within fundamentally abusive systems such as slavery (just as how men do not escape gbv in these contexts in real life). I did not create this backstory for the purpose of eroticising these themes; I did it as an exploration of both the genre and real life oppression.

wrt the relationship between aventurine and the mc: while the overall arc for them is going to be a healing and loving one, I want to acknowledge that their sexual relationship is extremely bleak and unhealthy in this chapter. I would not condone a dynamic like this in real life by any means, but in the context of fiction, in the context of this narrative, I really do think their relationship needed to be executed this way.

I shall also say this. while I am not going to eroticize the unhealthy parts of their sexual relationship, I am absolutely going eroticize the hell out of the healthy parts of their sexual relationship 👍👍👍 so aventurine fuckers please be strong… we will someday get to the unrepentant corn in this fic (probably next chapter lol)

[oldmisfortune]

MC is meant to be "inconsistent" with the boys because she has a different relationship dynamic with each one. It took a long time for her to be "nice" to Rafayel, and even now there are options to tease and bully him. The people who say MC is mean and want her to be worried about him are misogynists who believe women owe men who show affection or sacrifice anything. If Sylus was ugly and they thought him cringe, they would not be saying she owes him any kindness for his feelings or choices to save her. In fact, they would see it as him being disrespectful of her boundaries when she already said "no." Let's not forget she blocked him from socials but he still saw her posts through Luke and Kieran. This behavior would NOT fly if Sylus were the men these people might have faced IRL who don't take no for an answer and expect reciprocation and pursue women to exhaust them into a relationship on the excuse that it's "courtship."

Hi, anon!

Long reply ahead because I think your opinion is incorrect. I wish to simply debate your statement and it is by no means an attack towards you or your opinions but simply a discussion of it.

Firstly, about the MC’s change in personality, I don’t really know, as I mentioned, because I didn’t look too deeply at MC’s dialogue and I’m still relatively new to the game. It’s just a vibe I got and I thought it was worth noting. Your argument does stand. She could simply be reacting differently depending on the boy but again, I haven’t looked into it.

As for the rest:

Let me rephrase your statement so we’re sure we’re on the same page. You believe that people think MC should be nicer to Sylus because of misogyny. Misogyny is the dislike and prejudice against women, meaning you believe that these people have a level of engrained hate/prejudice that makes them favor a man over the MC, a women. Specifically because he’s conventionally attractive. And if he wasn’t conventionally attractive, people wouldn’t want MC to be nice to him, they would even go as far as to hate him for his behaviors. Correct?

I don’t personally think you are correct.

I hope that you were simply trying to educate me on the matter and not accusing me, because if you were, we need to have a different conversation all together. I’ll still reassure you and say that it’s not the case for me. I wasn’t condemning her behavior in my post, nor was I condoning it. I even stated that MC has the right to be mean, and honestly, I considered her too kind at first.

And I agree that some of his behavior is terrifying in real life. I would even venture to say that it shouldn’t be romanticized and that Infold shouldn’t have taken so much inspiration from dark romance to begin with. I’ll never excuse his behavior nor should anyone. HOWEVER, this is a fictional character. As long as these behaviors remain fictional and aren’t being accepted or sought or romanticized IRL, I think people should like what they like even if we don’t understand why they like it.

But I’m diverging.

We're trying to understand the answer to this question: Why are people upset enough by how mean MC can seem towards Sylus? And let’s not focus on the game but on the fandom.

I believe that it’s far more simple than misogyny. Players like Sylus. MC is supposed to be an insert for the players. MC perceived as mean to Sylus. Players don’t want to be mean to Sylus because they like his character. Thus, MC is no longer a proper self-insert for the players. The immersion is broken. Players are angry.

I think that the players would be just as angry if MC was mean to any of the other LIs in a way that they didn’t see as fair. And I’m not talking about teasing. I’m talking mean enough to break the immersion. And I think that for a lot of people, at least those complaining, this breaks their immersion and dampens their enjoyment of the game. I could be incorrect but I've seen this happen in other fandom for other games.

From now on, I’m just babbling but I think it’s worth mentioning. What I do believe is misogyny is more fandom on fandom hate rather than hate for MC. Let me explain. I’ve seen on tiktok creators getting harassed for not liking certain LIs, mischaracterizing the LIs, and for out of character headcanons. The creators that were harassed and that I know of are women and they were attacked by other women for the sake of a fictional male character. That can be argued to be misogyny and this is where we should direct our focus towards instead, making this fandom a community a safe space for everyone even if we don’t agree on certain things or like the same characters.

[burningcheese-merchant]

Honestly I don’t understand the hate behind “toxic” ships in fiction, I personally couldn’t care less what people ship as long as it’s entirely fictional and they aren’t condoning the actions of the characters. Sure I’ll still block someone if their ships make me uncomfortable, but I have a “ship and let ship” type of view on these things.

Exactly. I'm just SO tired and so done with this shit. The Cookie Run fandom has always been shit to some degree, since CROB first came out, but CRK brought in whole legions of people who haven't seen grass in years and it's just sad at this point lol. So long as they're both adults (ZERO tolerance for adult/minor ships at all times, fuck that shit), why does it matter? It's fiction. No one is being harmed. Explore whatever concept or dynamic you wish. Wholesome, toxic, everything in between. Just remember to maintain a healthy level of detachment from it all; don't get mad if people don't ship the same ships you do, don't get wrapped up in discourse or arguing or anything. Doesn't do anyone any good, including you and me.

There are plenty of ships I don't like (in general, even outside of Cookie Run). I am anti-FireWind and always will be. ShadowSpice makes less than zero sense to me, like wtf are you people on about lol. Hollytaya gives me rabies and I hate remembering it exists (God I hate Hollytaya so fucking much it is absolutely unreal lmao). Guess what? I block the ship tags and go about my business. I don't go out of my way to look for ship art or fics, nor do I bother people who ship any of those (or any other ships I don't like). I have friends and acquaintances that ship these three that I've listed, and I don't think any less of them for it. It's all good in the neighborhood. All shipping is at the end of the day is playing dollhouse. Getting mad at people for playing with the dolls in the "wrong" way is dumb and pathetic lol. Live and let live. Hate the ship, not the shipper.

Just don't call me names. Don't accuse me of terrible things because I like hero/villain ships, the enemies to lovers trope, and/or exploring darker topics or relationships in writing. It's FICTION. No fucking shit that stuff is wrong and I don't condone it irl, the fuck is wrong with you? What kind of person do you take me (or anyone else like me) for? I get so goddamn irritated with the shit I see getting hurled at Beast x Ancient shippers regularly, especially on Twitter. People get harassed, people get outright doxed and threatened. All that over fictional talking cookies? You're the ones who need help, not us lol. You don't have to like BurningCheese, you don't have to like Beasts x Ancients, you don't have to like Heroes x Villains at all. That is perfectly understandable, that trope is not for everyone. But don't do that shit. Don't call us misogynists, or abusers, or anything else like that. Those are serious and damning accusations. You've got a lot of nerve saying that to people you don't even fucking know, especially from behind the comfort and safety of a computer screen. Frankly, you cheapen what those horrible things really mean by hurling them at random strangers so carelessly. You think words in a document or lines on a screen compares to real-world violence against innocent people? You think because I toy with the concept of some little buff spicy cookie dude having an evil crush on a little winged cookie lady, I want real people to be harmed? Fuck you for that. I am VERY familiar with the horrors of violent crime, BELIEVE ME WHEN I FUCKING SAY THAT. I hate bad people as much as the next guy, probably more so, because again, I AND MANY I KNOW PERSONALLY HAVE SEEN SHIT IRL, SO DON'T FUCKING COME AND TELL ME I ENDORSE REAL CRIMES WHEN I AM THE LAST PERSON ON EARTH WHO WOULD. Fiction allows us to bask in the light or be engulfed by shadows as much as we wish, while being able to safely disengage and return to real life without any pain or discomfort being inflicted on ourselves or others afterwards. All of this morality and media-enjoyment policing is just the newest incarnation of the fundies that tried to paint Pokemon as satanic, or those pearl-clutching dipshits on the news and in government that insisted that people would become carjacking homicidal maniacs because they play Grand Theft Auto. It's fucking stupid and a waste of time.

I'll say it one more time: YOU. DO. NOT. HAVE. TO. SHIP. BURNINGCHEESE. OR. ANY. OTHER. BEAST X ANCIENT PAIRS. You are entitled to your thoughts and feelings and ships. Block the tags and move along. Block users if you have to. Better yet, turn off your computer and go spend time with real people. There's more to life than Twitter or Tumblr or these wack ass games about cookies, I promise. None of this matters, man. I have a Bill Cipher plushie as my avatar. I post silly dumb memes half the time, and then just ramble nonsensically about Evil Spice Man x Pretty Cheese Lady the other half. This shit is stupid. We're all stupid for liking these games in the first place. They suck. We all suck. Write what you want, draw what you want, mind your own damn business and I'll mind mine

[little-box-of-autism]

My Opinion on Spider

@peachycrime asked for this, so....

Anyways, buckle up because I ain't gonna hold back, and I'm going to be as brutal as winter in Nunavut.

Let's start off with the obvious;

Spider is sixteen years old.

He is a child, and as such, should not be expected to be held to the same standards as an adult.

But more over - and I know some might disagree with me on this - Spider is a child that was neglected and thus abused because neglect is abuse, and I'm not touching on the shit with Neytiri just yet.

The clearest example of Spider's neglect is the scene where Spider is running from Hell's Gate, the first one we see him as a kid rather than a toddler or teenager. Spider is at best seven in this scene, and yet he is allowed to run into the Pandoran jungle (because from the comics and other sources, we know that while the Omatikaya is close to Hell's Gate, it isn't beside it) unattended despite the fact that the jungle is dangerous even to an adult na'vi, let alone a human child who could feasibly die just by tripping over a rock and falling in a way that could damage or dislodge his mask, which he relies on to breathe.

If Spider had fallen, if his mask had been damaged or dislodged, there was no one there to help him.

There is a wooded area near my house that is filled with trails and is generally considered pretty safe, but I still wouldn't let my seven-year cousins (who don't rely on a mask to breathe) run around in there unattended.

Already Spider's hair is beginning to mat (they are mats, not dreads) and there is no way that the adults weren't aware of it, which means they allowed it.

Now let's get onto some other things I've noticed throughout the movie (and the comics, though I'm mostly focusing on the movie.)

"Stray Cat" is what Jake refers to Spider as, and I don't know if this may just be me, and my ASD, but I find calling/comparing a child to a stray cat to be dehumanizing, and maybe it's purposeful because it's a lot easier to ignore the neglect of a "stray cat" then a child.

Spider from the moment he is captured is very aware of the fact that there will be no attempt to save him which is devastating because even with the knowledge that a rescue from Bridgehead is improbable, the clear lack of hope in Spider is very telling in how he views his worth and value.

Jake, someone who was in the military and worked for the RDA, however briefly, would be aware, at least to some degree, of what would be done to Spider in order to get information, and he does not actually express any concern for Spider's wellbeing or safety, only thinking about what Spider could possibly tell the RDA.

Despite how close the younger three Sully kids are to Spider, they never express any worry or concern for Spider openly in front of their parents. Do I think that they were worried about Spider? Yes, but I do also think they knew they couldn't express this concern in front of their parents, specifically Neytiri.

The only adult who shows any real concern for Spider during the vast majority of the movie is Quaritch despite him technically having the least reason for why he should be concerned for Spider. As Quaritch states, he isn't the same Miles Quaritch that was Spider's father, and unlike Jake, Norm, Neytiri, or Max, he didn't watch Spider grow up. His connection to Spider is minimal in comparison to other adults in Spider's life, and yet he is the one who shows Spider the most care.

Now onto the matter of Neytiri, I can understand her reasons and I can empathize with her trauma, but she is an adult who is punishing a child who has not done anything to her besides exist. We wouldn't condone this in real life and to me, trying to excuse her actions is troubling to me because of the message it sends to people that have gone through something similar. You can still empathize with Neytiri and the trauma she suffered while acknowledging that her actions towards Spider are wrong. Trauma is a reason, but it isn't an excuse and as an adult, it is on Neytiri, not Spider, to manage her trauma.

We also have to consider how her actions affect her relationships with her children, specifically Kiri and Lo'ak.

Kiri is the most obvious, she and Spider share a very close bond that is displayed both in the comics and in the movies, and Kiri has argued with Neytiri over her treatment of Spider. This obviously would put a level of strain on their mother-daughter relationship, especially when you take into account that Kiri often feels 'othered' and considers Spider to be one of the few people who not only understands her but also does not judge or think differently of her.

With Lo'ak it's more nuanced but Neytiri's constant hatred towards Spider due to him being a 'demon' very likely has an effect on Lo'ak who already clearly has issues with his 'demon' blood that sets him apart from other na'vi.

In the end (because I need to end this somewhere before it just becomes a never ending rant) Spider is a child who was neglected and abused for who his father is, and his action of saving Quaritch is completely understandable in light of the fact that Quaritch is the first adult who took care of Spider and had - in Spider's eyes - saved him from death twice now.

One last time I want to make one thing clear;

Spider said "don't hurt her."

Kiri said "don't kill him."

And I cannot shake the fact that at that moment Kiri genuinely believed that her mother was capable of killing her best friend and was pleading for Spider's life.

If that doesn't bother you deeply, then I don't think you are ready for these types of discussions.

Now I am open to discussing my opinion in a mature conversation, but I will not tolerate dramatics nor will I entertain blatant ignorance. If you cannot engage in discussions with at least some level of maturity and willingness to understand different perspectives, don't engage at all.

[brothermoth]

Some of y'all are grown ass fucking adults who didn't pay attention in English class and make it OUR problem now. No, somebody is not a bad person for liking a villain character. Human morality is not black and white like that, and all you are doing is stripping writers of our chance to make you think for once in your goddamn life. Antagonists play a role more than antagonizing. They're meant to tell you something about yourself, about the world, about relationships.

Just because I think a character is interesting will never ever mean I condone or agree with the things they do. It's fiction, in real life I would despise them, but because they're not real I can toy with them in Google docs like a little puppet. This is not the 1600s anymore where you're terrified to make one wrong move lest you be sent straight to hell do not pass go do not collect 200 dollars.

If you're going to be an avid consumer of media, at least learn how to analyze it. Don't be reactionary xitter users, please?

--this is about red dead redemption I'm sorry--

BUT Micah is a bad person. We all agree. We shan't defend the things he does or believes because despite being unfortunately average opinions of the time, his actions do little but hurt the people around him.

YET he's just some guy, at the end of the day. He's a reflection of Arthur, of who he could potentially have been if his father hadn't been hanged and had kept him around. Arthur has the same potential to be Micah as Micah has to be Arthur. Hell, his brother left and started a family, he could've done so as well. The game is about choice. It's about actively choosing to do the right thing, even if the right thing is a bit questionable sometimes. You cannot in good faith aim your staunch moral opinions toward this game. You miss so much nuance and important conversation that the writers wanted you to have. Arthur isn't some golden retriever good boy, he's done terrible things and acknowledges that. He beat a man with a terminal illness to death over like thirty bucks, and he thought nothing of it until he got sick himself. Arthur had his chances to leave too, but he dug his heels in the same as Micah did, he refused to take that opportunity and resigned himself to being a violent arm of the gang.

Kill the puritan worms in your brains guys. Please. Use the thinking meat, that's what it's there for.

[avelera]

I saw the IWTV finale early thanks to a kind soul sharing it with me!

A few (spoiler-y) thoughts:

Really interesting how they reimagined and framed the ending of this take on IWTV with Louis and Lestat mourning Claudia together. It feels like Justice For Claudia in many ways, it feels like a fitting homage to the origins of Claudia's character (the dead of Anne Rice's daughter from leukemia as a child), and in general was just a really interesting way to sort of give this closure the book never did and also use it to realistically allow them both to push forward past their toxic and abuse past into a somewhat plausible healed future.

It was also a decent reminder, to me, that these are vampires. These characters live forever. I would not condone Louis/Lestat in real life because life is too short to keep going back to an abusive ex. But these guys are vampires. Do not do as they do. But genuinely 70 years, a human lifetime, is realistically long enough to say, "Hey, we're new people now, we've learned and suffered a lot, we lost our daughter and it was fucked up. Maybe all we have is each other." And make peace with each other on that front.

BUT NOW I'M WONDERING HOW WE GET ROCKSTAR LESTAT - ok because Louis kind of got Lestat's book motivation for becoming a rockstar? The "Fuck you, come find me," to all the other vampires. Lestat I believe only speculates that as Louis' motivation, but they made it canon (or I could be wrong).

But that was Lestat's motivation for HIS book, making Louis and the others come find him. Since that's been solved with Louis coming to find him (lovely little homage to the IWTV movie with him playing the harpsichord) now I'm wondering if Louis is the one who encourages Lestat to become a rockstar and write down his book.

Thing is, it's not totally contradicted by the book. (SPOILERS) TVL does end with a beat where Louis and Lestat reunite and Louis is kind of his groupie for a bit. Moving that up so Louis is part of Lestat's rise is actually a really lovely touch, it gives them a bit more time together before shit goes down, and I could totally see this version of Louis as Lestat's agent since he's shown to have that business acumen.

Now that Daniel is a vampire (OMG OMG OMG MORE ON THAT IN A SECOND) the risk is no longer so bad for him to come interview Lestat and I'm sure he's salivating to do so and Louis would definitely invite Vampire Daniel to do the interview for Lestat's book, since there's no fear for his safety (or at least, not as much) anymore. And Daniel would jump at the chance. It would be a fabulous framing device, Rockstar Lestat with his agent, Louis, inviting Daniel to interview Lestat for his next book AND it means we get Daniel's snark throughout Lestat's story.

OK SO DANIEL BEING A VAMPIRE. Definitely leaves the door open for past AND present Devil's Minion WITH THE ADDED BONUS of Daniel not going insane after he's turned (likely owed to not being turned while still a drug addled young man so, hey, if there was past Devil's Minion where Armand said no, kudos to him for reading the situation correctly that vampirism would drive young Daniel insane but not Old Man Daniel).

I was SLIGHTLY, SLIGHTLY bummed to see Daniel as a vampire without getting to see the whole Daniel/Armand situation but only slightly. There wasn't enough room in the season, it would have been a distraction, and IMO we can now save it properly for its place in either TVL or QOTD, which I bet are going to be Seasons 3-4 or as many as 3-6 if we stick to 2 seasons per book.

A take on Devil's Minion where past and present Devil's Minion are intertwined would be AMAZING and I've got my fingers crossed that's how they do it. Maybe interweave a bit of Vampire Armand.

I don't think/know if we're going to get a full Vampire Armand season BUT I do believe the show is going to pivot its POV lens to say, hey, everyone's got a point of view, everyone's got a reason. At some point, we're going to get more of Armand's POV and why he did what he did because I imagine his version will be different from Louis', just as Lestat's is, that's the whole basis of the show. And in there maybe we'll get some past Daniel/Armand.

Ok this already got away from me but ANYWAY, those are my thoughts for now.

[i-have-a-goal]

I had said a few days ago I would be posting my tips on how I lose weight the fastest & how i got it done being in sports that enabled this ♡ so here I go:

Btw- just need to say this quickly- I don't condone this and get help if you are able to ♡ much luv

Okay with that here it is teehee:

☆ Okay so When I was in wrestling, we had to make sure we made weight- no if . If you were 6 lbs over then you had to find a way to lose 6lbs by Saturday. When I was put in this situation, some of the girls would 🤮 of course, but I wasn't a fan of the taste so I def took alternative routes such as

1. Calorie Deficit= DUH. Obv. Duh. For safety reasons I'm going to say 1,400 max (which isn't much In real life lol) but I would eat around 800-1,200 max for this. I wouldn't really say I watch what I eat, but I'm also not just downing pure doritos and mountain due. I'll have chips but I'll also eat fruits.

2. Working out/ cardio= I know.. it's a bummer isn't it? But I'm being 1000% honest with you, calorie deficit combined with hot cardio is the key to losing weight quickly. This is what we all did to make sure we were at the correct weight within 7 days. And it's not walk around the block or sit on the floor and do donkey kicks either... it doesn't have to be extremely intense, but you do want to make sure you're sweating the whole time. ☆ bonus points for putting on 2-3 jackets and pajama pants or hot sweats when u workout!! It does a lot of the job for you. For me, my go to would be using the treadmill (I don't even run girl I have it on level 3 and do this for 30 mins while listening to music and day dreaming about my cute skinny future self- and I still sweat like crazy) I also do the same thing on a indoor bike. Like I said, it doesn't have to be sprints or anything crazy , just something that keeps you moving enough to be hot = sweat. Think of jumping Jacks, planks, butterfly kicks, ladder climbs, etc. Also if you have a jacket with a Hoodie, def tie the hoodie secured so u can sweat more! It works I promise.

3. if you have the time, try to workout whatever you just ate sooner than later. For example, ate an apple? That's 95 cals, nothing a 25 minute walk can't burn off 👍🏻

4. DRINK YOUR WATER. I know everyone says it BUT there's a reason they do okay. Water keeps your lips hydrated and soft. Water will keep your body hydrated, water will help keep you full (to an extent if im going to be honest) if you feel hungry after drinking water, try sucking or chewing on ice- water's cousin ♡ they go hand in hand. Also- I add chia seeds to my water for the fiber and mint leaves with lemon and Cucumber in another ( I have different cups) the mint drink helps with bad breath (from not eating) AND speeds your metabolism = lose weight faster. I also drink green tea for the same benefits + 0 calories so yay ♡

5. FOOD EXAMPLES. Chances are, If you're too focused on how hungry you are and how much it sucks that you can't have fatty foods- you'll break. You won't succeed. So let's make it as beautiful as we can. By that I mean the dishes you make. Some popular dishes we would do within the sport was 6-8 leafs of big crunchy Romaine lettuce with lemon and salt over them. That's around 10-15 calories. Another one was thin slices of tomatoes with salt. Get creative and add seasoning if needed ✨️ if you like spicy food then you're in luck cause adding spice to anything fills u up quicker:-) a good spicy choice I do is steamed garbanzo beans with tapatio. Another good (non spicy) option is steamed artichoke with light Mayo! Get fancy here guys yall can steam so many vegetables and have so many nice looking meals 😊

6. STAY CONSISTENT = I know it's easier said than done, but when you're about to grab that pizza, understand that you're conscious enough to make the decision to not eat it. If your body is fighting with your brain, then you have to trick one of them. Yes, be delulu. Tell yourself it isn't good. Tell yourself the pizza is just another thick slab of grease with artificial cheese over it. Think of how you'll feel once you eat it. Think of the grease lard and calories you're shoving down your throat. Convince yourself it's disgusting. Eventually, you will find it disgusting. And this can work the opposite way as well ✨️ glorify thin slices of fruit. The satisfying way it feels to eat low calorie naturally sweetened fruits from earth. Same with veggies and water and anything 0 calories.

If I have any other advice ( which I'm sure I do I can't just think at the moment!! Smh) then I'll be posting them on this account so follow me for more content but if there's 1 thing to take from all this, it's this:

Self-discipline & self-control

So many of us don't get to our goal weights because of these 2 right here. Find the self control to not eat the food your family brought home. Find the self discipline to carry on your good habits of eating minimal & healthy and gradually make your way to the end goal ✨️

I believe in you all! We got this, one day at a time 💕

[ozthedm]

I love Astarion to death, I really do. He has some of the best moments in the game, and is probably my favorite of the origin companions...

Which is why I have to say as an Astarion-enjoyer that it is deeply concerning to me how his racism is brushed to the side so easily both in-game and in fandom.

And yes, he is canonically racist. I'm not going to go into his gnome comments or what early drafts of the character indicated about his past, since those are slippery slopes. But trust me, his in-game attitude towards the Gur (who are stand-ins for Roma, a real-life minority ethnic group) is enough.

"But it makes sense that he would be prejudiced against the Gur because of his backstory." Yes, it does. It's understandable, even. But that does not mean it shouldn't be called out and condemned beyond one optional line about not holding a grudge against an entire ethnic group because of his tragic backstory.

Also, it's possible he may have had this mindset even before his death. Astarion has a line indicating that, when he was a magistrate he'd made some sort of ruling against the Gur that angered some of them enough to attack him in the street.

Now to be fair, Astarion's history before Cazador is deliberately kept vague, so at a certain point this becomes conjecture. I still think this is worth mentioning because if we take his words at face value, then that goes beyond benign ignorance into the active participation of subjugating a minority group.

I want to be clear that I'm not saying Larian and Astarion fans are condoning racism. Again, I am an Astarion fan. I totally understand that saying "my blorbo is a racist" is deeply uncomfortable. I know that the idea of an amoral character is more fun than actually addressing that amorality is, in fact, bad.

But maybe that's the point of Astarion. In a choose-your-adventure game, he illustrates how easy it is to do and excuse terrible things while brushing them off as not a big deal.

It's just very weird to me that the narrative goes all in on addressing actions which Astarion had little to no control over, but hardly even acknowledges the harm he's done of his own free will. Especially when a major part of his arc is about how to move forward when you are responsible for others' suffering.

TLDR;

If a character (who isn't an antagonist) is intentionally written to be bigoted, that isn't something that should be easily glossed over by the writer or reader/viewer/player/etc.