#everything was dark and blue and cold. very minimalist

[dystopianam]

Masterpost: All the Lighting Mods for The Sims 2 ✨

I'm making this post both because I like to group things under one post and because I need it as a link to add to my tracker, but still I think it will be useful for many!

Look here for other masterposts!

Lighting Mods

# Gunmod's Radiance Light System 2.4 by dDefinder on ModTheSims - A realistic, extremely dramatic, sometimes very dark lighting mod that increases the intensity of colors, lights and shadows and adds sunrise and sunset to the game (they don't exist in the vanilla game)

#Gunmod's Radiance Light System 2.5 edited by @dreadpirate - An updated version of the aforementioned lighting, with much more compatibility with many shaders and less blue nights! Every Season it have they own lighting color: Summer is vibrant, autumn has warm colors, winter has cold colors, and spring has a little yellowish "filter".

#Maxis Match Lighting Mod by Dreadpirate - The environment is more saturated and bright, removes the dull gray tint that vanilla game has. Everything is smoother and more uniform. The shadows are calm, exactly like the ones in the vanilla game. Each season has its own lighting, the nights are black instead of blue and it has many compatibility with many shaders. This one also has sunrise and sunset.

#Cinema Secret by Dreadpirate (@veronavillequiltingbee) - A perfect mix between the Gunmod Radiance and the Maxis Match Lighting mod. It use elements of both, such as the shadows and calm colors of the MM Lighting Mods but the intensity of the lights of the Gunmod Radiance (especially noticeable when using neon lights). It has many compatibility with many shaders, the nights are black instead of blue, it has sunrise and sunset and every season has its own lighting.

#SpookyMuffin Lighting Mod - Recommended by a user in the comments! I don't know how to talk about this Lighting Mod because I've never used it, but the post on the site explains what it consists of!

#The Sims 2 Beta Lighting - By opening the link you will see a YouTube video by @boringbones that will explain how to have The Sims 2 Beta lighting! (The download can be accessed from his Discord link in the video description)

#5:55 Lighting by Bugjartimedecayoff - An edit of Radiance 2.4, with much brighter outdoor lighting at night (very similar to Maxis' default night lighting) and soft peach-tinted dusk & dawn lights.

#Rae-diance Lighting by Raemia - Another edit of Radiance 2.4, with the differences being brighter nighttime lighting & brighter unlit rooms, plus reduced room-saturation.

#Edited Maxis Match lighting mod by @kayleigh-83 ! (Dawn & Dusk edits)

#Original Vanilla Lighting Backup Here!

Lighting Mods for the Neighborhood

#Neighborhood Lighting Remedy by Criquette - This lighting mod is ONLY for the neighborhood and you can use it together with any of the three lighting mods mentioned above. Fixes the direction of the lights and shadows to be consistent with that of the lot imposters and makes it more consistent with lot mode.

#Accurate Neighborhood Terrain Lighting by @simnopke - This lightind mod is like the above one. It is only for the neighborhood and can be used in conjunction with a DP & dDefinder lighting mod but NOT in conjunction with Criquette's NH Lighting Remedy.

EDIT: simnopke said: "My Accurate Nhood Terrain Lighting mod does something different than Criquette's Nhood Lighting Remedy and can be used with it. Moreover, my mod has two versions intended for use with Criquette's mod."

Lighting Mods for the CAS (Create a Sim)

#Minimalistic CAS Lighting Mod Replacement with Custom Light by Dreadpirate - This lighting mod is CAS ONLY and can be used together with a dDefinder or DP lighting mod and a lightind mod for the neighborhood. Using similar lighting to the MM Lighting Mod, it makes the CAS more saturated and smooth. You have to change a value in a lights file within the game install path but it's worth it!

One small problem I've noticed is that when used with lighting mods other than the MM Lighting mod it often doesn't work well even if the value is correctly changed. For example, when I changed the lighting mod and switched from MM to Cinema Secret, it triggered the super lighted sims bug in CAS which I didn't have before. But then again, this could be just my problem. There is fix by Lazy Duchess for this bug but you need to be very careful. Sometimes it conflicts with some shaders (as in my case) and unleashes an absurd pink soup even in bodyshop even if bodyshop shouldn't have anything to do with it. But AS ALWAYS, maybe it's only a problem of mine because I'm very unlucky.

EXTRA SHADERS BUT NOT REQUIRED

#Better Nightlife by @criquette-was-here - Even if it does not change anything graphically with colors, lights and shadows like a lighting MOD it adds shaders that allow the deco hoods to light up during the night. So for example, by downloading hood decos compatible with this shader you can have street lamps that light up on the street (in the neighborhood), buildings lit up at night, lit bridges etch.

#Blue Snow No More by Dreadpirate - This shader removes the blue tint that snow creates even if you use lighting mods that make the night black instead of blue. Many DP lighting mods (Like MM Lighting Mod) have this shader already included, so you don't need to download it, this is an individual shader if you don't use their lighting mods. To be honest, neither the shader INSIDE the lighting mod nor the shader by itself has never worked for me, but I think there is a problem in my download folder at this point or I am very unlucky.

#Overly Bright CAS Fix by @lazyduchess - As I have already explained before, this mod fixes the bug of super enlightened sims in CAS. Sometimes it can conflict with something (which I don't quite understand with what) and trigger an absurd pink soup, so if you suddenly start to notice more pink soup than usual try to remove it and see how it goes.

Maybe it just conflicts with some lighting mod or some shader. In my case it could be the DP's lighting mod for the CAS.

#Moi Shader Roof by niol on ModThe Sims - This shader fixes the lighting of roofs which sometimes appear much darker than their texture. Many lighting mods from DP have this shader included OR are compatible with this shader. So check the descriptions under their lighting mods before downloading it.

#Brighter Roofs...But Not Too Bright! by Deastrumquodvicis on ModTheSims - Same as the previous shader, but makes the roofs less bright than they show with the aforementioned shader. This shader uses Moi's shader as a base, so you can NOT use both. Use only one. Many lighting mods from DP have this shader included OR are compatible with this shader. So check the descriptions under their lighting mods before downloading it.

#Moi's Neighbourhood Water Global Mod by niol on ModTheSims - This mod changes the water color of the neighborhood. Nothing more nothing less. Many DP mods are compatible with this shader.

#Pond & Sea Water Overhaul by Voeille on ModTheSims - This mod changes the water of the sea and ponds and makes it more realistic using The Sims 2 Castaway water shaders. Many DP mods are compatible with this shader but for some shaders like Better Nightlife it needs a little more attention. For example, if you use Better Nightlife you will need to use the version of these shaders provided by the Better Nightlife link to be compatible. So you have to delete these for use their shaders if you want both.

You can't use this together Moi's Water.

#A World Lit by Fire by hat_play_sims on dreamwidth - This mod itself doesn't change shaders dramatically, but it change the color of some lights and make them more sensate. I'll explain: many maxis lights that are powered by candles or should give off a warm light regardless, give off a cool, white light instead. Have you ever seen a candle emitting white light? No! This mod fixes all lights in the game and makes lights that need to be warm... warm. Perfect for history-themed saves or for the ones like me, completely obsessed with candlelight in this game. Many DP mods are compatible with this shader. It's immensely beautiful when used with the dramacity of the Radiance System but works quite well with other lighting mods as well.

[drawingdroid]

To be taken care of

Pairing: Din Djarin x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Spotchka makes Mando show his desire to take care of you.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: Bounty Hunter!Reader, soft!Din, set before Season One, smut!!!, little plot for context, but also FLUFF!, v fingering, no gendered words used, no y/n, alcohol, dirty talk, drunk sex, hint of praise kink, mirror kink, feelings???, reader is clueless about them tho, kind of sinful use of the helmet sorry armorer!

A/N: Hi!!! This is the first time I’m writing for this fandom OMG. I have little experience writing fics and I’m not 100% happy about this, but hey I had fun while typing smut at work! Also English is not my mother tongue and I have no Beta only Grammarly, although I edited this thoroughly, so sorry if this is awkward hehehe, I’d love to hear your thoughts about it!

You both probably had exceeded your tolerance limit with the spotchka that the kind people of Sorgan had gifted you on your last visit to the planet. Everything started with an excruciating hunt that had taken a toll on you and your bussiness partner. When the trandoshan male you’d been persecuting for weeks was finally frozen in carbonite, both of you sighed in relief and then your gaze met with his behind the visor. Neither of you were very talkative, your silences sometimes speaking louder than words. In addition, you both where extra grumpy that night because of the tiredness. Limping because of your sore muscles, provoked by hiding lying down on the hard floor for hours, you went directly to the spot where your provisions were. He tilted his head, curious. Normally after a hunt, you run to the shower to clean the grime accumulated from the days on the run.

Mando's questions were rapidly resolved when you triumphantly showed him the blue bottle and two metal mugs you used for everything. You must be a minimalist in a ship like the Razor Crest, which was definitely not designed for habitability. You also showed him the reusable straw you got him so he could drink in front of you on the field without worrying about his Creed. He fixated his helmet on you and finally nodded, so you poured him the spotchka filling the cup to the brim and then did the same for you. Next you let yourself slip down the metal floor with a heavy thump, too exhausted to stand for a minute more. He followed you and soon you found yourselves toasting lazily on the ground and drinking in silence.

“You did great today, mesh’la.” He said after emptying his mug for the first time that evening. You downed your beverage on your lap and looked at him as if he had gone nuts. In your time with him, he’d never praised you for your work. It was just expected that you gave your 100% in your hunts, right? You were after all partners, business partners. Associates. That sometimes fucked, alright. But you both kept things professional. So why did his praise affect the color of your cheeks that much?

“Thanks, Mando.” You muttered after finishing your spotckha too, offering to fill his mug again by raising the bottle towards him. He nodded and his gaze didn’t leave you this time. The truth was that Din was impressed by your performance in this last job. He knew you were a capable bounty hunter, of course, or he wouldn't have asked you to join him in the first place. It was only for one job initially, but you’d been so resourceful and worked so well along with him that he had to request you to join him full-time.

In the field, you always had his back, saving his metal ass more than one time, and your perception and ability to read people’s intentions was incredibly useful. Even though you weren't Mandalorian, he respected you as a warrior as if you were one of them. Not only respect, he felt admiration towards you.

And then it was the other side of your partnership. The one that occurred in the dark, rushed, your flushed skin against the cold beskar and soft sighs fogging his visor. The first time occurred after a near-death experience, the adrenaline ended in you being pressed against the wall in some alley by his beskar-clad body. He discovered you weren’t only outstanding at bounty hunting, but in other disciplines too.

Your intercourses would usually happen after a hunt gone south when both of you were especially frustrated and needed to let some steam off. You had three unspoken rules about them: you never talked while fucking, it was always done in the dark, and you never mentioned it afterwards. And of course, the helmet stayed on. You could never have imagined that you'd break all of the rules the current night.

You both had emptied the second round by the moment Mando spoke again. "I'm glad you accepted to be my business partner." His voice through the modulator caught you off guard, as you were lost in thought at the moment. He wasn't looking at you this time. You wondered if he was already drunk because he was behaving so off-character.

"You only say that because you love my stew." You chuckled nervously while pouring another mug for yourself. He asked his to be filled too and half of the spotchka was already gone. You could feel your palms against the glass sweaty: this opening-up-with-Mando thing was new for you.

"No…Yes, I mean… I do love your stew." It actually was the best he'd tasted and a great change from the ration packs he'd usually consume while on the Razor Crest. Mando played with the metal straw in his drink as if it was filled with your star recipe. "But what I'm saying is…it's nice to have you around." You looked at him quizzically, without a clue about where this conversation was directed or what was he referring to. Like he enjoyed your presence? Impossible. You rarely even spoke and didn’t know a lot about each other. Just enough to know you could trust your partner in the field. Maybe he was referring to sex. You knew he enjoyed it, as you did too. It was hot and somewhat felt forbidden. But anything in his cryptical tone indicated he was talking about sex, and it would be a first between you. Finally you decided he must be speaking about your job, you worked well together for sure.

"I suppose…we make a good team." Your half smile was timid and Mando surprised himself when his heart skipped a beat at your smile, but he was a bit disappointed. That was not what he was referring to. Sometimes he wished to be as talented with words as Greef Karga. He nodded and sipped half of the liquid courage remaining in his mug when he heard you giggling.

"What?" He asked drily. He almost felt hurt, where you laughing at him after dodging his attempt to tell you how he felt? You tried to stop but the alcohol had started to take a toll on your self-control. Especially on your empty stomach.

"You…you look so…so cute with your straw." He now fixated his visor on you, and although you tried to stop your laughter with your hand he only made it worse by looking deadly while sipping his spotchka.

"So you bought it in order to make fun of me?" You couldn't discern if he was joking or not but you started to be too drunk to care. He was marveled by this relaxed version of you, looking careless while sprawled on the floor. Even during sex, you'll keep it together, always looking composed. Was a bit of spotchka the one thing it took for you to get loose? If that was the case, he'd buy supplies for ages on the next planet.

"No dummy, I got it because that time you got dehydrated on Tatooine! You scared the shit out of me." Mando hardly remembered how that hunt ended, since in fact, he ended up fainting because of the lack of liquids due to being glued by the hip to you all the mission. It was certainly embarrassing. But what really made his cheeks flush was the endearing tone you had used to insult him.

"I appreciate how you always take care of me." His voice was softer than usual and the impact it had on you was totally unexpected. You stared at him frozen. Was he dehydrated again? You looked at the bottle of spotchka confused. Sure, it was a bit stronger than usual, but not that much.

"Mando��� Are you drunk?" You asked carefully, and then he rotated all his body towards you.

"I want to take care of you, too." His voice came strained while he ignored your question. Your face couldn't be redder and your heartbeat started to go out of control. This couldn’t be happening, right? Where you reading well the room?

"Well, I could really use a massage. You know, my boss had me laying all day in some kriffing hole as if I was his personal sniper and my back is killing me." You said nonchalantly after a long silence, avoiding his face on purpose. He sighed in defeat and lay again in the position he was before, his long legs stretched on the floor.

"Your boss looks like an asshole." You could hear now a smile behind the helmet in his voice that warmed your heart.

"He's a tough bone, but he ends up growing on you." You winked at him and then got up, feeling suddenly how drunk you actually were. You stretched your arms over your head and then your neck and Mando could hear the crack of every one of your bones.

“I’ll give you that massage.” You weren’t expecting that he’d taken it seriously at all. He was no stranger to your body, but this new behavior of his was getting on your nerves. You had already spoken more than in all the month you were on board the Razor Crest. Slowly you nodded.

“Let me shower real quick first.” Without further notice, you locked yourself in the refresher to have the fastest shower in history, leaving The Mandalorian with his thoughts while you replayed your conversation in your head, trying to figure out his intentions.

After refreshing, you looked through your possessions, finally finding the small bottle of scented oil, and then returned to the hull while drying your hair a bit with a towel. The shower hadn't diminished your drunken state at all, and you were feeling feisty now. Thinking about how Mando was going to give you a massage had ignited your desire. And you could work with that. Because even though emotional intimacy wasn’t your forte, you new plenty about the physical one.

Mando was in the same place you had left him, now his back against the wall in a relaxed demeanor. He looked at you and then he was thankful you couldn't see his face. Of course, he had seen you in your undergarments before, but always in a non-sexual way like attending to your wounds or just a glimpse here or there. When you fucked you’d both keep most of your clothes on. He’d never appreciated you in all your glory towering over him like this. He gulped and felt his pants somewhat tighter.

You then sat nimbly in front of him, your back facing his front, and left the oil in your right so he could reach it. You noticed that another quarter of the spotchka bottle was missing.

"Confiscated." Giving him a mischievous glance, you twisted your body to reach the bottle and opened it to have a sip directly from it. Mando still hadn't moved a millimeter. A single drop slid along your throat and suddenly he wished he could lick it so badly. He had noted that your demeanor had changed, no longer nervous but confident in your body and sexuality. And that kriffin made him snap. His large hands snaked around your hip bones, dragging your body closer to his chest in one movement You gasped at the sudden contact, but this was familiar. Rough Mando, pressing you from behind against the nearest surface.

His long, muscular legs were spread around you, and you couldn't but appreciate his width and strength, seduced to caress where the beskar wasn't covering them. The time started to go slower as you stroked his skin through the flight suit. Sometimes it was difficult to remember that under all the metal a living red-blooded man resided. And said man was shivering now under your soft touches, praying that you didn't notice his neediness. He was a warrior with a task.

"Mesh'la, let me take care of you." His voice was gentle and raspy when he spoke next to your ear, and if he hadn't been wearing a helmet, you could have felt his breath tickling your skin. The tone in which he pronounced the foreign word made you feel a lot of things, some of them directed to your lower abdomen. You heard the tap of the oil and goosebumps of anticipation covered your skin. When the first drops slid down your column you were the one shivering this time.

When you felt his hands over your skin, you melted. You hadn't noticed when he’d removed his gloves. He rarely did it, and feeling them on your abused shoulders was like warm honey. You almost moaned from the touch of the rough skin of his big palms, his strong thumbs working on the knots that always formed over your shoulder blades. It felt heavenly.

“Is this okay?” If you didn’t know better, you’d swear his voice sounded a bit shy, but it was always difficult to tell through the modulator.

“S’ perfect Mando.” Your tone was breathy as you started to get a bit much worked up by his touch. He hummed and continued with his ministrations in silence. The moment felt fragile: you’d never had this intimacy together before. You noticed he was taking his time with you, feeling every muscle and curve of your strong back, tracing some scars scattered here and there. The alcohol and the massage were finally relaxing your tensed body, and then a moan you couldn’t stop escaped from your lips. His hands, which were working on your lower back at that moment, stopped and you could feel his entire body tense.

“Is this turning you on mesh’la?” All shyness was gone in a second, now his voice was thick with lust, a timbre you did recognize of him. His hands now had a harder grip on your back, like he needed to hold onto something. Sex with Mando was familiar ground, you felt relieved.

“Why don’t you check yourself?” Spotchka made you cheeky like that and you could hear Mando taking a heavy breath, confirming that your words had the effect you desired. Without warning, he dragged you towards his chest plate, the cold beskar biting your back while he positioned his helmet resting on your shoulder. Your heartbeat started to accelerate with anticipation. In this position, you could feel his chest rising every time: he was as worked up as you.

Painfully slow, he started to go over your outer thighs with a feathery touch with his calloused digits when then abruptly, he grabbed them and separated further making you gasp. The heat between your legs was unbearable and the thing you wanted more was for him to touch you. His grip on your inner thighs was almost painful, not that you minded, but you couldn’t stand more teasing.

“Mando, please…” You begged.

“Please what?” His fingers were now hovering over your clothed core, the fabric drenched in your slick. It wasn’t like your business partner hadn’t fingered you before, but it was always as a preparation for you to take his girth, never in this unrushed, lazy manner. Although you were going to explode from anticipation, you were loving every moment of it.

As Mando was too. The sensation of your plush skin filling his hands, your body pressing against his and dank farrik, your smell. It was driving him crazy, so much that he wanted to remove his helmet so he could appreciate the delicious smell of your wet pussy. His head was starting to spin and he couldn’t identify if it was for your fragrance or the quantity of spotchka running through his blood. He decided that the teasing was over then, and unceremoniously hooked his thumbs on your waistband and slid the piece of underwear down your legs, the soaked spot in the middle so evident it embarrassed you and turning him on even more. But he wasn’t still touching you where you needed him most. You were so done.

With your smaller hand, you grabbed his and placed it in your cunt letting go a snort and leaving Mando stunned.

“You wanted to take care of me? Then go on.” You said sassy, but your face was redder and hotter than a Sith’s lightsaber. He kriffing grunted and your breathing stopped when he finally put one of his thick fingers on your entrance to collect your slick. He amused himself at the fact that you were dripping because of him, feeling between surprised and a little proud about it. Then he started tracing lazy circles around your clit while spreading your pussy with the other hand. Mando relished himself in how soft and warm you were, imagining your flavor between his lips. In the confine of his flight suit, his cock twitched, impossibly harder. But today was about taking care of you and he was a man of his word.

His middle finger started tracing your slit up and down and you can’t help but waggle in his lap, feeling the pleasure spreading through your body. You inhaled hard when you notice the prominent bulge against your ass, growing only wetter at the sensation, and Mando could literally feel how your slick slid down your hole. While still rubbing your clit, he took advantage of the dampness to slide one finger inside, looking at that magic spot in your entrance that made your skin tingle. You moaned louder and he licked his lips under the helmet. An all-consuming desire was growing inside of him, the alcohol inside his veins whispering to him that he should indulge in his fantasy. You moan again in his arms and he’s a mess. Needs to taste you, to smell you to see your pussy drenched because of him. Every part of his body is in contact with yours, his helmet against your cheek. He’d love to bite your shoulder and mark your neck, and his need grows stronger while fantasizing about the idea.

“Mando…another finger…please.” Your voice was labored and so sexy he needs a sharp inhale to bring his brain the oxygen he needed. You were a beautiful mess. Your lips parted, cheeks red with lust and a sheer layer of sweat making your skin glow under the lights. This was nothing like taking you from behind in some cantina bathroom. He was done.

“Wait for a second mesh’la. And don’t turn around.” You nodded obediently, at this point you’d do whatever it took to be touched by The Mandalorian. Then you heard the hiss, you panicked a moment, knowing what the helmet meant for him. But inside you couldn’t deny the excitement from the anticipation about what he was going to do. Soon you had the answer. With a loud clank, he let his helmet rest between your spread thighs and then he breathed heavily, finally inhaling your sweet scent. It seemed odd to you that he didn’t choose another spot for his helmet, but then it hit you like a ton of bricks. Filthy bastard.

“Keep your legs spread for me.” His bossy tone made your pussy clench, you were used to his dry commands but in this context it made you drool. His unmodulated voice was like his hands, rough and gentle and warm at the same time, just like him. You found yourself wanting to hear more of it.

Mando’s hands traveled south once again and then he was spreading your lips, totally messy and wet. “Dank Farrik mesh’la look at you.” And you looked. The helmet, well-polished, silver beskar. His position between your legs wasn’t unintentional. You looked at your cunt at display, his large fingers caressing it like it was the most precious thing in the galaxy. You felt embarrassed and your first reflex was to close your legs. But he wasn’t having it.

“Mando, you’re shameless!” His strong hands didn’t let you close your legs but he spread them further. And when he had you like that, his fingers collected your slick determined to finally taste you. You could hear how he sinfully licked every finger and a more sinful, hoarse moan. You’d never hear him make a sound like that and it turned you to putty.

“Your cunt tastes as delicious as it looks.” Now, that was shameless. Who had imagined the reserved, soft-spoken Mandalorian had such a filthy tongue? His fingers were toying with your clit while he explored your hole with the other hand. Pleasure was filling every cell of your body and tiny moans were scaping more frequently from your lips, more aroused every second you looked at his movements reflected on the beskar surface.

“I’d love to taste you too Mando.” You teased grinding your hips on his cock, provoking a delicious sound from him.

“Another time mesh’la, I’m taking care of you today.” His voice was thick with drunkenness and desire and you couldn’t get enough of it. Then a perfect place stroke made you arch against him, leaving your neck at display for him. That delicious-looking skin was calling for him. A sharp bite startled you, provoking a loud moan from you. Even though he had removed his helmet, you didn’t expect him to use his lips on you. It looked like he was sporting a mustache and facial hair. Somewhat, it fitted the mental image you had of him and you siled internally. He continued sucking and biting all over your shoulders and neck, taking his time in your pulse point and you were a panting mess between his thighs, at this point, your slick even pooling on the floor.

His pace on your pussy was faster now, and you could feel and see how his fingers were knuckles deep in your insides, curved toward that delicious spot you could only reach with toys but he easily achieved to stroke. Dank Farrink, he did know your body. You realized he had to be paying more attention than you thought during your intercourses and that somehow made you hornier.

“Mando, I’m not gonna last much more…” Your voice was small, all your cheekiness from behind gone. You felt raw.

“That beautiful cunt’s gonna cum? Lemme see it mesh’la, give it to me.” Mando slurred as worked up and drunk as you. His words sent electricity directly to your pussy and your walls clenched against his fingers. “Kriff your body is amazing…you’re amazing.” His movements over your clit were now frantic and your vision started to blur. You succumbed to the sensation letting it hit you and then you were cuming all over Mando’s tan fingers with a loud cry of pleasure. He kept touching you until you shivered from overstimulation, dragging his fingers slowly from your puffy entrance. The vision was totally sinful. He started drawing lazy circles around your lips, caressing them. Your breath was still heavy while you came down from your high.

“Mando that was…” You didn’t have words for what had just happened.

“Do you feel better now cyar’ika?” His voice was soft again, even sleepy.

“Yeah, thank you for…taking care of me.” The alcohol and your orgasm were making your body drowsy, and you let yourself sink into his arms.

“Anytime.” He then kissed the point where your shoulder met your neck, something he hadn’t done before. You shivered at the sensation of his facial hair against your own skin and couldn’t help but smile fondly. In his odd way, he was sharing this private part of him with you and surprisingly your heart fluttered at the idea. He started then to drag his nose caressing your shoulder, it felt prominent, his mustache provoking goosebumps. You relished in his tenderness and at that moment you didn’t care anymore that this felt too intimate, wondering how it’d feel to kiss him. It was probably the spotchka why you were indulging in these thoughts and the reason you sighed like a teenager when his cheek leaned on yours. Probably tomorrow everything would be back to normal when both of you were sober, but for now, you’d let yourself enjoy how it felt to be taken care of by The Mandalorian.

[vxracity]

[Kkeungi. 30+. PST.]

Name: Rufus Harvey Dallaire Shinra

Also Known As: Mr. President, Rufie (only his mother gets to call him that without dying)

Hair: Blonde

Eyes: Blue

Age: 25

Orientation: Aromantic Sapiosexual

Height: 6’ 3’’

-Personality-

Enneagram: The Maverick (Type 8 with a 7-wing)

Strengths: Decisive, Strong-Willed, Independent, Intuitive, Adaptable, Charismatic

Weaknesses: Resentful, Vengeful, Evasive, Contrary, Manipulative, Calculating, Detached, Aloof

-

Rufus was not raised by hands-on parenting, his mother Étiennette is a famous opera singer and his father is the Head of a multibillion dollar corporation. He was often left to his own devices and whims, yet expected to achieve certain measures of worth, so he grew up very independent and studious. He learned how to speak, write, and read at an extremely early age and often sought the company of books over the dull, vapid people around him. Due to the fact that he has had to learn almost everything on his own, he has a certain arrogance and entitlement to be condescending of others who he feels had everything handed to them or fed directly.

Rufus was a cold, standoffish child and his reticence to engage often made him a target of bullying or mockery, which he'd promptly put an end to with a startling amount of violence. His actions lead to being enrolled in a military boarding school in Junon, where he spent most of his formative years.

Though he can be extremely dismissive, when he desires to learn something, he puts in 100% effort into understanding a subject well, not simply from a factual standpoint.

Now that he is an adult, he does not like resorting to violence unless it is the last possible option, finding those who are quick to incite physical harm or threats upon others as boorish, ignorant, and tactless.

Notes:

His whole beef against his dad isn't just a personal issue, it's also that he doesn't respect his ideals or what he's created for himself and knows he can do a better job at basically anything.

Very clean and neat, organized 'cricket' style- basically means he likes organizing things to the point of being anal retentive, but he also hates VISUALLY busy things/spaces, so he needs surfaces to be clean and everything put away... Except when he's working on a project then it's literally organized chaos. He's the type of guy who, if he had a house, all of the public spaces look like they're out of a minimalist interior design catalogue, but his office is a disaster area and only he knows there's a specific order/flow to everything and if you touch it he will kill you.

Dark Nation was originally going to be put down for being too aggressive and 'untameable' and Rufus basically saved her and managed to do the impossible and she's effective and way better than R&D ever thought she'd turn out.

[hemat0lasluts]

* ⁺ . ECHOS OF THE ABYSS.

»　　.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓆩 𐕣 𓆪⋆��˚ ﹐    SOFIA GOMEZ LOOKS LIKE    BARBIE FERREIRA.    ( she / her )   ・   27.   ・   witch.   ・   cancer.   ・   born july 3.   ・   6’6”.   ・   dark, expressive eyes that seem to see through every facade.   ・   curvy and confident, her presence is both grounding and captivating.   ・   often dressed in vintage-inspired pieces, paired with bold jewelry and witchy accents.   ・   carries an aura of quiet rebellion, with a touch of sensuality in every movement.   ・   a gifted herbalist, her hands are often stained with the colors of her craft.   ・   enjoys late nights under the stars, communing with the universe in her own way.   ・   her voice is rich and velvety, with a laugh that lingers like a spell.   ・   drawn to urban magic, she finds energy in the chaos and rhythm of city life.   ・   known for her sharp intuition, often unnerving others with how much she just knows.   ・   fearless when challenged, she has a streak of defiance that fuels her magic.   ・   always smells faintly of clove and cedarwood, a signature of her daily rituals.   ・   fiercely loyal, she will protect her chosen family with everything she has.   ・   enjoys collecting crystals, odd trinkets, and handwritten spells passed down through generations.   ・   her familiar, a sleek black raven named umbra, is never far from her side.

»　　.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓆩 𐕣 𓆪⋆｡˚ ﹐    EMILIANO GONZÁLES LOOKS LIKE    NICHOLAS ALEXANDER CHAVEZ.    ( he / him )   ・   7000+.   ・   vampire / priest.   ・   virgo.   ・   born september 9.   ・   6’10”.   ・   warm, honey-brown eyes that hold a depth far beyond his years.   ・   lean and athletic, with an air of quiet discipline and restrained power.   ・   often seen in traditional priestly attire, but his sharp features and intense gaze betray his darker nature.   ・   exudes a haunting mix of holiness and temptation, his duality pulling others in.   ・   struggles with his vampiric hunger, seeking salvation through faith yet constantly teetering on the edge of sin.   ・   enjoys solitary evenings in candlelit chapels, lost in prayer or the weight of his inner conflict.   ・   his voice is calm and steady, with a hint of something unspoken, like a secret longing.   ・   drawn to classical music and old texts, finding comfort in the echoes of the past.   ・   known for his ability to make others feel both safe and unnerved, a reflection of his internal struggle.   ・   the scent of incense and aged wood clings to him, a reminder of his sanctuary.   ・   fiercely protective of his parishioners, yet distances himself to shield them from his dark nature.   ・   thrives in moments of solitude, but his loneliness is palpable, even in a crowd.   ・   seeks redemption through acts of service but finds temptation in the very people he vows to protect.   ・   enjoys wandering the streets at night, where the shadows feel like home.   ・   his familiar, a black wolf named sanctus, is a constant reminder of the beast within him.

»　　.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓆩 𐕣 𓆪⋆｡˚ ﹐    DAMIEN HART LOOKS LIKE    HARRIS DICKINSON.    ( he / him )   ・   28.   ・   vampire.   ・   aquarius.   ・   born february 5.   ・   6’11”.   ・   icy blue eyes that pierce through the darkness with a predatory gleam.   ・   lean yet muscular, his movements are calculated and predatory, exuding a cold elegance.   ・   often dressed in tailored suits with a modern, minimalist style that complements his timeless allure.   ・   carries an aura of detached indifference, masking centuries of blood-soaked history.   ・   revels in the hunt, his charm a deadly weapon as sharp as his fangs.   ・   enjoys moonlit strolls in the city, feeding off its restless energy and stolen moments of solitude.   ・   his voice is smooth and low, dripping with quiet menace and veiled promises.   ・   drawn to modern art and architecture, finding beauty in humanity’s fleeting creations.   ・   known for his piercing intellect, always two steps ahead in every interaction.   ・   the faint scent of leather and smoked cedar follows him, a subtle reminder of his refined tastes.   ・   protective of those he deems his own, though his loyalty is earned, not given.   ・   thrives in chaos, finding the unpredictability of life intoxicating.   ・   enjoys playing chess, both on a board and in life, always calculating his next move.   ・   his familiar, a sleek black panther named nyx, mirrors his predatory grace and unyielding intensity.   ・   harbors a hidden softness, revealed only to the rare few who crack his icy exterior.

»　　.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓆩 𐕣 𓆪⋆｡˚ ﹐    JUDE BLOOD LOOKS LIKE    LILI REINHART.    ( she / her )   ・   5000+.   ・   demon.   ・   leo.   ・   born august 10.   ・   6'7".   ・   soft, doe-like hazel eyes that glow crimson when her true nature emerges.   ・   deceptively angelic features, her beauty hiding a wicked and cunning soul.   ・   often dresses in vintage-inspired clothing with dark, seductive undertones that hint at her true self.   ・   exudes an aura of dangerous charm, luring others in with her disarming warmth.   ・   revels in chaos and thrives on temptation, her smile a prelude to destruction.   ・   enjoys long nights in smoky bars and forgotten alleys, where vice and sin are at their peak.   ・   her voice is sweet and melodic, with an undercurrent of mischief that leaves others entranced.   ・   drawn to firelight and mirrors, where she can see the flicker of her power reflected back at her.   ・   known for her silver tongue, capable of turning allies into enemies and vice versa with a single word.   ・   the faint scent of roses and sulfur lingers wherever she goes, a signature of her demonic essence.   ・   fiercely independent and unapologetically herself, she bows to no one.   ・   thrives in temptation, often pushing others to their limits for her own amusement.   ・   enjoys collecting trinkets from her victims, each item a trophy of her conquests.   ・   her familiar, a sly red fox named ember, mirrors her cunning and playful malice.   ・   hides a deep well of vulnerability, though few ever get close enough to see it.

»　　.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓆩 𐕣 𓆪⋆｡˚ ﹐    LAYLA ARCHER LOOKS LIKE    DOVE CAMERON.    ( she / her )   ・   1000+.   ・   vampire.   ・   libra.   ・   born october 7.   ・   6'3".   ・   strikingly pale green eyes that shimmer like glass, holding a hypnotic allure.   ・   petite and ethereal, with a delicate beauty that belies her deadly nature.   ・   often dressed in pastel or flowing, romantic pieces that contrast with the sharpness of her fangs.   ・   carries an air of innocence, masking a manipulative streak sharpened by centuries of survival.   ・   enjoys the thrill of seduction, weaving webs of desire with an almost playful cruelty.   ・   spends her nights in opulent ballrooms and hidden speakeasies, blending effortlessly into mortal life.   ・   her voice is soft and sweet, like a lullaby laced with poison.   ・   drawn to moonlit gardens and fountains, finding solace in the beauty of the night.   ・   known for her delicate touch and devastating smile, leaving heartbreak in her wake.   ・   smells faintly of peonies and blood, a chilling yet intoxicating combination.   ・   fiercely loyal to herself, but her affections are fleeting and often come with a price.   ・   thrives in the art of manipulation, treating life like a game she always wins.   ・   enjoys collecting antique jewelry and rare artifacts, fascinated by the stories they hold.   ・   her familiar, a white dove named elysian, symbolizes the facade of purity she so expertly maintains.   ・   hides a longing for something real, though she’s terrified of what it might cost her.

»　　.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓆩 𐕣 𓆪⋆｡˚ ﹐    SERAPHINE NIGHTSHADE LOOKS LIKE    JENNA ORTEGA.    ( she / her )   ・   7000+.   ・   half-angel / half-demon.   ・   gemini.   ・   born june 12.   ・   7'1".   ・   large, dark eyes flecked with silver and crimson, mirroring her dual nature.   ・   petite and graceful, her presence shifts between ethereal light and shadowy menace.   ・   often dressed in contrasting fabrics—soft silks and edgy leather—reflecting her inner duality.   ・   exudes an aura of intrigue, an enigmatic blend of innocence and danger.   ・   enjoys playing both sides of her nature, her angelic warmth often concealing her devilish intentions.   ・   spends her time in liminal spaces, like twilight meadows and candlelit cathedrals, feeling torn between worlds.   ・   her voice is soft and melodic, carrying both a soothing calm and an undertone of rebellion.   ・   drawn to celestial phenomena and infernal flames, finding beauty in both creation and destruction.   ・   known for her sharp mind and adaptability, seamlessly navigating between heaven and hell.   ・   smells faintly of lilies and smoke, an intoxicating blend of her celestial and infernal origins.   ・   fiercely independent, yet haunted by a desire to belong to one side or the other.   ・   thrives in chaos, wielding it as both weapon and shield.   ・   enjoys sketching surreal landscapes, capturing the beauty and torment of her existence.   ・   her familiar, a black-feathered owl named eclipse, symbolizes the balance and conflict within her.   ・   hides a deep fear of losing herself to either extreme, fighting to remain whole in her duality.

»　　.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓆩 𐕣 𓆪⋆｡˚ ﹐    CORBIN BLACKWELL LOOKS LIKE    BILL SKARSGÅRD.    ( he / him )   ・   7000+.   ・   demon.   ・   scorpio.   ・   born november 3.   ・   7'4".   ・   pale green eyes that glow faintly in the dark, filled with predatory intensity.   ・   tall and lean, with sharp features that carry an unnerving, otherworldly beauty.   ・   often clad in dark, impeccably tailored attire that exudes power and menace.   ・   radiates an air of dark charisma, a blend of irresistible charm and palpable danger.   ・   thrives on manipulation, finding delight in the moral struggles of others.   ・   spends his time in dimly lit dens and abandoned cathedrals, basking in their eerie stillness.   ・   his voice is deep and smooth, laced with a sinister edge that demands attention.   ・   drawn to forbidden texts and cursed relics, constantly seeking knowledge that others fear to uncover.   ・   known for his biting wit and calculating demeanor, always a step ahead of those around him.   ・   smells faintly of sandalwood and ash, a subtle reminder of his infernal origins.   ・   fiercely ambitious, with a sharp focus on his own ascent, no matter the cost to others.   ・   thrives in darkness, weaving it into the fabric of his existence like a second skin.   ・   enjoys crafting elaborate illusions, both for his amusement and to ensnare his prey.   ・   his familiar, a shadowy raven named nocturne, embodies his cunning and ominous nature.   ・   hides a deep, simmering rage from his past, fueling his drive to dominate and destroy.

»　　.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓆩 𐕣 𓆪⋆｡˚ ﹐  DARCY COOPER LOOKS LIKE    ANNA PAQUIN.    ( she / her )   ・   8000+.   ・   succubus.   ・   aries.   ・   born march 29.   ・   6'5".   ・   hazel eyes that shimmer with golden flecks, drawing others in like moths to a flame.   ・   curvy and effortlessly alluring, her every movement exudes sensuality and confidence.   ・   often dressed in bold, figure-hugging outfits with striking colors or deep, sultry tones.   ・   radiates an air of mischief, her charm both intoxicating and impossible to resist.   ・   thrives on seduction, finding power in the desires and weaknesses of others.   ・   spends her nights in vibrant clubs, dim lounges, and the private corners of society’s elite.   ・   her voice is rich and sultry, each word laced with an undeniable magnetism.   ・   drawn to beautiful things, from exquisite jewelry to captivating minds, indulging in every pleasure life offers.   ・   known for her sharp wit and playful teasing, often leaving others enchanted or frustrated.   ・   smells faintly of roses and amber, a heady mix that lingers long after she’s gone.   ・   fiercely independent, valuing her freedom above all, though she occasionally craves genuine connection.   ・   thrives in chaos, effortlessly turning it to her advantage with a wicked smile.   ・   enjoys dancing, her movements hypnotic and often leaving those who watch breathless.   ・   her familiar, a sleek black cat named salem, reflects her sly and seductive nature.   ・   hides a streak of vulnerability beneath her confident exterior, longing for someone who sees past the allure.

»　　.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓆩 𐕣 𓆪⋆｡˚ ﹐    SELENE HILL LOOKS LIKE    HUNTER SCHAFER.    ( she / her )   ・   5000+.   ・   half-vampire / half-werewolf.   ・   aquarius.   ・   born february 8.   ・   6'10".   ・   icy blue eyes that gleam with an unnatural sharpness, shifting to amber during moments of rage.   ・   willowy and lithe, her movements fluid and feline, carrying the dual strength of predator and prey.   ・   often clad in layered, edgy outfits—dark leather mixed with flowing fabrics that hint at her wild side.   ・   exudes an ethereal and dangerous beauty, an enigma caught between light and shadow.   ・   thrives on the tension between her vampiric poise and her werewolf ferocity, never fully at peace with either.   ・   spends her time in quiet, secluded places, from moonlit forests to rooftops overlooking silent cities.   ・   her voice is soft and melodic, with a faint, haunting quality that leaves a lasting impression.   ・   drawn to the thrill of the hunt, whether stalking prey or seeking out hidden truths about herself.   ・   known for her quiet intensity, her gaze often unnerving as though she’s always a step ahead.   ・   smells faintly of wildflowers and rain-soaked earth, a delicate contrast to her feral nature.   ・   fiercely independent yet struggles with feeling isolated, longing for a place where she truly belongs.   ・   thrives under the moonlight, her dual lineage making her strongest in its glow.   ・   enjoys sketching scenes from her dreams, often reflecting the conflict and beauty within her soul.   ・   her familiar, a silver-gray wolf named echo, symbolizes her connection to her wild heritage.   ・   hides a deep fear of losing control, constantly walking the fine line between instinct and restraint.

»　　.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓆩 𐕣 𓆪⋆｡˚ ﹐    HERMOSA GREYWOOD LOOKS LIKE    ANA DE ARMAS.    ( she / her )   ・   7000+.   ・   vampire.   ・   taurus.   ・   born may 6.   ・   5'6".   ・   luminous hazel-green eyes that glow faintly in low light, hinting at her supernatural allure.   ・   elegant and poised, her beauty is timeless, with a smile that disarms and entrances.   ・   often dressed in classic, sophisticated styles—tailored dresses, flowing gowns, or sharp suits in dark hues.   ・   exudes an air of calm confidence, masking the predator beneath her polished exterior.   ・   thrives on the art of subtlety, mastering charm and persuasion to get what she wants.   ・   spends her time in candlelit libraries, grand ballrooms, or quiet gardens under the stars.   ・   her voice is smooth and velvety, every word spoken with deliberate grace.   ・   drawn to history and art, finding beauty in the fragments of time she's lived through.   ・   known for her sharp intellect and quick wit, able to navigate any social situation with ease.   ・   smells faintly of jasmine and aged wine, an intoxicating blend that lingers in her wake.   ・   fiercely loyal to her inner circle, though her trust is hard-earned and rarely given.   ・   thrives in moments of quiet power, where her presence alone commands attention.   ・   enjoys playing piano, her melodies hauntingly beautiful and filled with hidden emotions.   ・   her familiar, a sleek black fox named midnight, mirrors her elegance and cunning.   ・   hides a deep yearning for true connection, haunted by the loneliness of immortality.

»　　.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓆩 𐕣 𓆪⋆｡˚ ﹐    CECELIA ROSE LOOKS LIKE    ANYA TAYLOR-JOY.    ( she / her )   ・   8000+.   ・   demon.   ・   pisces.   ・   born march 1.   ・   5'7".   ・   piercing ice-blue eyes that shimmer like trapped starlight, betraying her otherworldly origins.   ・   delicate yet striking features, her ethereal beauty both enchanting and unsettling.   ・   often clad in flowing, dark attire with intricate detailing, evoking a mix of elegance and menace.   ・   exudes an air of quiet confidence and mystery, her presence magnetic and haunting.   ・   thrives on temptation and chaos, effortlessly pulling others into her web with a soft smile.   ・   spends her time wandering through misty forests, gothic manors, or dimly lit speakeasies.   ・   her voice is soft and melodic, carrying a subtle edge that lingers like a whispered secret.   ・   drawn to poetry, forbidden knowledge, and the darker corners of human desire and ambition.   ・   known for her sharp tongue and manipulative charm, her words cutting with precision when needed.   ・   smells faintly of smoke and lilies, a heady and intoxicating mix that captivates the senses.   ・   fiercely independent, with an unshakable resolve to carve her own path regardless of consequences.   ・   thrives in moments of power plays, reveling in the art of subtle dominance and control.   ・   enjoys painting vivid, surreal landscapes that seem to blur the line between dreams and nightmares.   ・   her familiar, a shadowy raven named elysium, reflects her cunning and boundless curiosity.   ・   hides a deep, unspoken ache for redemption, though she fears it may be forever out of reach.

»　　.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓆩 𐕣 𓆪⋆｡˚ ﹐ ALEXANDER VAN SHARP LOOKS LIKE AARON TAYLOR-JOHNSON. ( he / him ) ・ 8000+. ・ half-vampire / half-demon. ・ leo. ・ born august 15. ・ 7’2”. ・ piercing storm-gray eyes that shift to crimson when his darker instincts surface. ・ ruggedly handsome with a commanding presence, his smirk equal parts charm and danger. ・ often clad in leather jackets, fitted shirts, and combat boots—effortlessly blending rebellion with elegance. ・ exudes an aura of untamed energy, his movements precise but unpredictable. ・ thrives on the duality of his nature, balancing predatory instincts with calculated control. ・ spends his time in the shadows of bustling cities or ancient ruins, searching for purpose. ・ his voice is deep and smooth, carrying a subtle growl that hints at the beast within. ・ drawn to the thrill of a fight, a game, or a challenge that tests his limits. ・ known for his sharp wit and dark humor, often using sarcasm as both weapon and shield. ・ smells faintly of cedar, leather, and blood—a mix as intoxicating as it is intimidating. ・ fiercely protective of those he cares for, willing to unleash his wrath for their sake. ・ thrives under pressure, finding clarity and focus in the chaos others fear. ・ enjoys honing his skills, whether through combat, strategy games, or mastering new weapons. ・ his familiar, a sleek black panther named shade, mirrors his predatory grace and intensity. ・ hides a restless soul, torn between the darkness of his lineage and a yearning for redemption.

»　　.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓆩 𐕣 𓆪⋆｡˚ ﹐    ROWEN SOL LOOKS LIKE    EMMA D'ARCY.    ( they / them )   ・   3000+   ・   half-jinn / half-vampire.   ・   aquarius.   ・   born february 8.   ・   6'9".   ・   striking, ember-hued eyes that flicker like smoldering coals, revealing their jinn lineage.   ・   androgynously elegant with sharp, chiseled features that hint at their vampiric refinement.   ・   often clad in flowing, ethereal garments that shimmer like firelight, interwoven with modern, sharp edges.   ・   exudes an air of enigmatic allure, their presence both otherworldly and intoxicatingly intense.   ・   thrives on duality, balancing the disciplined hunger of a vampire with the untamed power of a jinn.   ・   spends their time beneath desert stars or in the neon-lit streets of sprawling cities, drawn to extremes.   ・   their voice is smooth, with a subtle, smoky undertone, every word deliberate and magnetic.   ・   drawn to the interplay of freedom and restraint, forever chasing experiences that test their limits.   ・   known for their keen intellect and razor-sharp wit, often veiling their emotions behind clever banter.   ・   smells of sandalwood and burning incense, with a faint metallic tang of blood lingering underneath.   ・   fiercely independent, they hold loyalty sacred but grant it sparingly.   ・   thrives in moments of high-stakes risk, savoring the adrenaline rush of danger and consequence.   ・   enjoys crafting intricate artifacts, combining jinn magic and vampiric precision for unique creations.   ・   their familiar, an iridescent serpent named sly, reflects their fiery power and hypnotic grace.   ・   hides a deep yearning for balance, seeking peace in the tumult of their warring natures.

»　　.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓆩 𐕣 𓆪⋆｡˚ ﹐    JESSIE DOVE LOOKS LIKE    SARAH MICHELLE GELLAR.    ( she / her )   ・   5000+.   ・   vampire.   ・   gemini.   ・   born june 12.   ・   6'8".   ・   bright, icy blue eyes that can pierce through lies and darken to midnight black when her thirst takes over.   ・   petite but undeniably commanding, with a sharp jawline and a deceptively sweet smile.   ・   favors sleek leather jackets, vintage dresses, and boots—equal parts classic and rebellious.   ・   exudes an aura of refined danger, like a rose with hidden thorns.   ・   thrives on wit and cunning, her charm disarming even the most suspicious minds.   ・   spends her time exploring hidden corners of the world, from forgotten libraries to underground clubs.   ・   her voice is low and velvety, with a playful lilt that often masks her sharper intentions.   ・   drawn to stories, both written and spoken, and collects old books and rare manuscripts.   ・   known for her cutting humor and ability to see through others' facades.   ・   smells of roses, old parchment, and a faint metallic tang of blood.   ・   fiercely independent, yet surprisingly sentimental about those who’ve earned her trust.   ・   thrives in the thrill of the hunt, savoring the delicate balance of predator and prey.   ・   enjoys fencing and archery, keeping her skills honed and her reflexes sharp.   ・   her familiar, a ghostly white raven named echo, reflects her sharp intelligence and eerie grace.   ・   hides a yearning for connection, masking centuries of loneliness with a veneer of self-assurance.

»　　.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓆩 𐕣 𓆪⋆｡˚ ﹐    CHLOÉ STEIN LOOKS LIKE    MADELYN CLINE.    ( she / her )   ・   6000+.   ・   vampire.   ・   libra.   ・   born october 10.   ・   6'6".   ・   golden-green eyes that glimmer with an unnatural charm, shifting to deep crimson when provoked.   ・   sun-kissed skin that contrasts her vampiric nature, with delicate features that conceal a deadly edge.   ・   often dressed in chic, tailored outfits that exude elegance and effortless allure.   ・   carries herself with an air of quiet confidence, her smile both inviting and dangerous.   ・   thrives on the art of seduction and manipulation, weaving webs of intrigue wherever she goes.   ・   spends her nights in high-end lounges or wandering moonlit gardens, drawn to beauty and mystery.   ・   her voice is soft and melodic, laced with a hypnotic quality that captivates listeners.   ・   drawn to the finer things in life, with a penchant for vintage jewelry and rare wines.   ・   known for her sharp intellect and the subtle cruelty that hides beneath her charm.   ・   smells of jasmine and vanilla, with an underlying hint of copper that betrays her predatory nature.   ・   fiercely protective of her inner circle, though her loyalty is hard-won and easily lost.   ・   thrives in social settings, finding power in observation and subtle influence.   ・   enjoys playing piano late into the night, her melodies hauntingly beautiful and full of longing.   ・   her familiar, a sleek black cat named nyx, mirrors her grace and enigmatic presence.   ・   hides a lingering sadness, haunted by the life she left behind and the eternity she now faces.

»　　.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓆩 𐕣 𓆪⋆｡˚ ﹐    TATUM SATO LOOKS LIKE    ARDEN CHO.    ( she / her )   ・   9000+.   ・   vampire.   ・   leo.   ・   born august 15.   ・   7'7".   ・   dark, almond-shaped eyes that glow with an amber hue when her emotions flare.   ・   silky black hair that cascades down her back, often styled with effortless elegance.   ・   favors minimalist, tailored clothing in dark tones, paired with subtle gold jewelry.   ・   exudes a confident, commanding presence with a hint of mischievous charm.   ・   thrives on precision and discipline, balancing her hunger with impeccable self-control.   ・   spends her time training in martial arts, meditating in serene gardens, or exploring bustling cities.   ・   her voice is smooth and measured, with a calming undertone that belies her sharp wit.   ・   drawn to the beauty of order and symmetry, often losing herself in art or architecture.   ・   known for her loyalty and her fierce sense of honor, never breaking her word once it’s given.   ・   smells of fresh rain, sandalwood, and a faint metallic hint of her vampiric nature.   ・   fiercely protective of her loved ones, willing to go to great lengths to keep them safe.   ・   thrives in moments of calculated risk, preferring strategy over impulsive action.   ・   enjoys calligraphy and crafting intricate designs, her precision reflected in her hobbies.   ・   her familiar, a sleek black fox named Kage, mirrors her cleverness and quiet strength.   ・   hides a deep inner conflict, caught between her disciplined facade and the untamed hunger within.

[byuntrash101]

PARAPHILIA - Part 7

Pairing: Dom!Baekhyun x You; Boss!Baekhyun x You; CEO!Baekhyun x You

Genre: smutttttt

Tags: cuckolding, cheating, NTR, cum play, dirty talk, name calling (light), edging, oral (f)

Raiting: +18

Word count: 3.9k

Summary: When you are desperate for money you have no choice but to seek the help of Byun Baekhyun: your husband's rich, powerful and wicked boss.

A/N: This is the only part where OC and Baek are not a couple but keep reading it might even be better hehe. Guys this one is one of my faves of this whole series so I hope you like it toooo~ 😇😇 -Cat 😼

Tag list:  @lovebuginlove @calamell @bobohumyonlyboo @smolbeanmika @making-me-blush @wooya1224 @yixing-jaehyun @f4ncyvelvet @lalalala-lav @deligxt @xofanfics @byunsugar @dixnysustae @to-all-the-stories-i-love @artisticcgroove @myexoobsession @geniusloey @blahblahblah-boo @nana-banana @mingiandbaconjam @chanyeolscoon

Tell me if you want to be added/removed

PARAPHILIA masterlist | General masterlist

Gif credit: thristyforbaek

Paraphilia #7: Troilism, Observing one's partner engaged in sexual activities with another person

T H E A L P H A M A L E

"Come on Seokjong, we're going to be late!" you tell your husband as you precede him on the pathway towards the big mansion. Your husband pants behind you.

"I know honey but... slow down a bit, will ya?" He puffs holding his side, difficulty going up the stairs. Your husband was never one to be really fit. He was rather short, not even taller than you and also a little chubby. People often told you that you two were not a good match. Telling you how much more good looking you were compared to him. Often you had to turn down the advances of men that thought themselves to be better than Seokjong but the truth was that you loved him. You loved him exactly the way that he was. Happily married for 4 years now.

Well... That was true up until recently. Even though you try to convince yourself otherwise. Your feelings are... changing.

You ring the doorbell in front of the enormous door of the even more gigantic mansion. While your husband catches up to you.

"Please enter" the distinguished butler says. "Please get seated. Mr Byun will receive you shortly" he points towards comfortable couches placed in the entrance. You look around the now familiar place. The floor is made of black marble tiles, the walls have an elegant white wallpaper with exquisite details. The entrance is very big, so big a renaissance style statue of a woman sits in the middle, while a huge staircase is right in front you.

You know the entrance very well but not the rest of the house because apart from the hall and another room you never visited it. Even though it was your 10th visit. Only two more to go...

After a while the butler came back and signaled you to both go upstairs. You politely nodded and went on your way. You knew exactly where to go...

Last room on your right... Mr Byun's office.

"Enter!" the low voice commanded from behind the door. You pushed in the door, your heart beating loudly.

The first thing you notice is the atmosphere. The big windows that accompanied the tall walls and the high ceilings are covered by curtains. The only light source is the desk lamp placed on the elegant dark wood desk that sits in the middle of the big office. The room is grand, the atmosphere very intimate.

Mr. Byun was standing there, slightly leaning back on his desk, shuffling through some paperwork, absentmindedly playing with the collar of his white shirt.

He wore a really expensive suit, very professional looking. Navy blue with discreet golden yellow accents and of course a thin white shirt that was perfectly hugging his frame. Which made your heart stomp even harder.

Mr. Byun was exactly what every woman would desire. He was handsome, had beautiful shiny chestnut hair. A body shape to die for with broad shoulders, a narrow waist and long legs. Gorgeous smooth skin, the most charming and seductive smile and of course... he was powerful.

Everything about him was, this mansion, the sports cars he drove, the way he dressed, the way he walked and even... The way he looked at you. Like right now.

He lifted his eyes from the paper, when they landed on you he took his time fully appreciating the view. He started with your shoes. You were wearing the sleek black shiny high heeled pumps he had requested for today. Then his eyes went up your legs to the slit of the red bodycon dress you paired with the shoes then to your breasts where his eyes lingered for a bit then to your collarbones then your neck then your plump red lips then finally your eyes.

Definitely you were not growing accustomed to the way he looked at you.

Seokjong also came in panting and profusely sweating. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his forehead. You rolled your eyes at him. You felt bad for that but at the same time... How could you not be mad at him? He was the reason why you were here in the first place.

Seokjong had an addiction. An addiction to gambling. For the past couple of years it has gotten worse, to a point where Seokjong lost 1 million dollars to the mob. It was a colossal amount of money that needed to be paid back right away. So of course you took two other jobs and also borrowed money from your parents but you barely could gather 80 000 dollars. It calmed down the mob for a while but after a time they started to threaten your family and loved ones.

So Seokjong turned to his boss: Byun Baekhyun. He had worked for him all his life and even for his father before he took over the company. So you both went to see him on the top floor of the big company building. Your husband got on his knees and begged him to lend him the money. He told him that he would work his whole life for it. He offered to put Mr. Byun on his will, he even offered him his parent’s farm, which was a ridiculous offer, and he knew it but he just had to take the chance in order to save your marriage, your family and even your life.

But Mr. Byun laughed at his face.

"Look at me... Look at this office. Does it look like there is anything in the world that I can't afford but you... somehow can?" his voice sounded so cold at the time.

"N-no..." Seojong said, lowering his eyes.

You remember how Mr. Byun leaned over your husband still flat on the ground and said:

"Offer me something that's unique, that only you have. Something that money can't buy and I might consider it..." with that his eyes turned to you and he looked at you for the first time like he did moments ago.

You remember how the shivers ran down your spine when his lips curled in a carnivorous smirk, how lust gradually clouded his eyes.

That time, for the first time. You let another man touch you, feel you, and look at you in places that were before only for Seokjong. Only for your husband.

That time, for the first time, at the top floor of the big highrise. You let Mr Byun Baekhyun have his way with you.

That's how you both agreed to let Mr Byun fuck you in front of your husband every month for a whole year in exchange of clearing Seokjong's depts with the mafia.

That was what you were now: Mr. Byun Baekhyun's whore.

"The door, Seokjong" Baekhyun commanded which brought you back to the present moment.

Slowly he walked up to you... Gradually you felt heat washing over you. You didn't want to admit it but there was a moment in time where you started to anticipate every time you had to come into this mansion. Of course you never told anybody, not even yourself.

Baekhyun walked behind you and rested his chin on your shoulder. You felt his warm breath brush on your ear and his body press against your back. His fingers brushed up your arm. From your wrist to your shoulder, sending goosebumps all over your body.

Already you felt a tingle build in your core. Because Baekhyun didn't even have to try to get you started. His aura and the simplest, littlest touches were well enough. But the worst part was that he wasn't content with that. Everytime he made sure to drive you crazy with desire, pushing all the right buttons to the point where you were the one begging for him.

Without even a word he slipped one of the spaghetti straps of your dress off your shoulder and started to nibble at your neck and earlobe. You knew your husband was right behind you, watching your every move so you tried your hardest not to make any noise as he planted blue and purple love bites all over you. He smirked when he noticed you were holding yourself back. Because he loved when you resisted him. The more you resisted the more gratifying it was when you finally gave in. And he knew you would... eventually you will give up yourself to him, again.

"Seokjong come here" he commanded while stepping in front of you and standing at a little distance, to be able to fully see you. Your husband shuffled to his side.

"Yes Mr Byun?" he asked looking up at him as he was a lot shorter.

"Strip her for me" he said motioning to you with his chin.

"Yes sir" Seokjong responded. He came to you and slipped off the other strap. Then with caution he slowly pulled on the thin red fabric and rolled the bodycon dress off you. First, your breasts popped out since Mr. Byun specially requested you to not wear a bra. It made him smile and lick his lips when he noticed how hard your nipples already were. Because even though you're trying to resist, your body speaks the truth.

Slowly but surely the dress was completely off you. Leaving you close to naked in your red lace thong and your shiny black pumps.

Baekhyun stayed silent for a minute while he walked around you. Admiring your breasts, your beautiful legs in the shoes he chose and even your perky ass in the minimalistic red thong.

He licked his lips again. Then walked in front of you. He slowly closed in the distance between the both of you until you felt his warm breath tickle your cheeks, his broad torso pressed against your naked chest and his bulge against your stomach. You held in your breath trying to contain the thumping of your heart.

"Seokjong come here" your husband shuffled to him. Baekhyun placed a hand on his shoulder. "There... stand... right there" he said as he placed him exactly facing the both of you only a few centimeters away.

"Pay attention" he told Seokjong, winking at him and playfully padding his shoulder.

"Yes sir" your husband answered.

"Now baby" Baekhyun brought back his attention to you. "Stick your tongue out for me"

Hesitant you slowly opened your mouth to stick out your tongue. Baekhyun glances again at Seokjong, making sure he's watching carefully. Then approaches his face to yours. Slowly he sucked on the tip of your tongue then he pushed his soft lips against yours. Embarking you on a hot kiss. His tongue swirled inside your mouth and as heat started to wash over your body you couldn't help but to look at Seokjong. He didn't lift an eyelash, he was petrified. Baekhyun deepened the kiss. His hand went up your hair, tangling his fingers in it, while the other slipped to your lower back where he pulled lightly on the waistband of the thong to let it slap against your skin. Gradually you felt his bulge harden against your stomach which made the tingly feeling even stronger.

He broke the kiss to let you catch your breath and looked at you with a satisfied smile. Stafisified because you couldn't hide anymore. Your eyes were begging him to continue as your body was too... Baekhyun felt that.

"Seokjong" Baekhyun called your husband, before sitting you on the desk and sliding off the red thong, passing it over your heels. "Look, that is what a simple kiss with me does to your wife" he said holding the little fabric in front of your husband face. You felt embarrassment creep up inside you.

The thong was drenched with juices, and you hated that. You hated how this was the truth. Your body was betraying you, craving more of his touches, longing for the moment he was going to be inside you.

Seokjong looked at the shameful result of your arousal and simply nodded.

"Lick it." Baekhyun commanded, smirking. "Taste your beloved wife's desire for my cock"

You whipped your head in the direction of your husband. He, too, looked at you before slowly bringing the red piece of fabric to his face and licking the wet spot. He closed his eyes, his eyebrows creased.

"How is it?" Baekhyun asked.

"Delicious, sir" Seokjong answered, opening his eyes. Baekhyun smirked before turning his attention to you again.

"I want to try it too" he said before crouching down and bringing his face close to your heat. You felt embarrassed. But at the same time you didn't move a muscle because you couldn't wait anymore for him to finally touch you there.

You immediately let your head fall back when you feel his warm and wet tongue on your slit. Slowly going up to your needy clit. A small whimper escapes your lips which makes Baekhyung smile against your folds. His skilled tongue paired with the teasing from earlier makes the knot in your stomach tighten. Really quickly, you feel the pleasure rising uncontrollably. But as soon as Baekhyung feels you twitch under his tongue he slows down to an unbearable pace.

You can't help but whimper desperately. He smirks again and picks up the pace, circling your swollen bud with his tongue.

This time shameless moans escape your lips, the pleasure is just too much and you can't help it. You're so close, you want to cum. But again, he slows down. You look down at him with pleading eyes but don't dare to actually say the words. He smirks at you; he loves to see you struggle like this. He loves the frustration in your eyes.

He starts up again. He gives you just enough to be close to the edge but not enough to actually go over. He keeps you there, in the middle, playing with you, torturing you. And you just can't take it anymore.

"Please" you whisper. He parts his lips from yours.

"Please what?" he says smirking, looking up at you. He brings his hand to your heat and draws small circles on your very sensitive clit. You gasp, biting your lip.

"Please let me cum" you beg in a breath, your head is dizzy, you have trouble keeping your balance on your high heels and you hold on for dear like to the edge of the desk.

"You want to cum baby?" you nod.

"Seokjong come here" your husband comes to stand directly behind him, facing you. "Watch how your wife cums for me".

With that Baekhyun's fingers slip inside you and curl up immediately spotting your good spot. You can't help but to moan loudly. His lips go back to your clit where his tongue continues to tease you further. Only this time, it's to finish the job.

Mercilessly his fingers and tongue attack you, to transform you into a moaning mess and as you feel the knot threatening to come undone you look up at your husband. You feel immense shame to let him see your delighted, sinful expressions from another man's touch. You're ashamed of letting him hear you moan for Baekhyun like that but at the same time... It turns you on so much. When you're met with the disappointed eyes of your husband you are finally able to cum. Your walls tighten around Baekhyun's fingers as you twitch uncontrollably under his tongue. Your juices rush out of you completely soaking the wooden floor. Completely out of breath you squirt all over, a blissful and lingering moan rolling off your tongue.

Baekhyun pulls out his drenched fingers out of you and stands back up before turning to Seokjong.

"Did she ever squirt like this for you?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"No, sir." Seokjong said, lowering his eyes. Baekhyun smirked, satisfied.

You tried catching your breath as you held yourself up on the desk with difficulty.

"Seokjong sit there" Baekhyun said as he pointed to the floor in front of the desk. Seokjong complied and sat his back straight against the darkwood and waited, his eyes locked on the floor.

Baekhyun started to undress himself. One by one he undid the button of his white shirt and took it off. Revealing his perfectly sculpted body. His chest was glistening from lightly sweating. His cologne gracefully floated to your nose. He smelled exactly like he looked: very expensive and manly.

He then took his pants off and kissed you again. Forcing your mouth open with his tongue as he pushed his hips on your stomach. You couldn't wait for him to be inside you.

"Bend over the desk baby" he said softly in your ear.

You turned around and bent over. You were positioned in a way that your husband's face was directly underneath your crotch. This way he had a front row seat on your adulterous sex with his boss.

Baekhyun came over and rubbed his hot tip against your drenched heat. He brushed it against your swollen clit before slowly slipping inside you. You moaned shamelessly at the delicious full sensation he was making you feel. There was no comparison. He was so much bigger than Seokjong.

"Seokjong, did you see how easily I slipped inside her? It's almost like she was made for me" Baekhyun said in a groan. Fully indulging himself in the tightness and warmness of your naughty little pussy.

Seokjong didn't even reply, instead he started to palm himself through his pants. He hated himself for it but he couldn't stop himself from getting aroused. He saw expressions you never made for him. He heard moans he never heard from you. All of that was, inevitably, turning him on.

Baekhyun started to slowly thrust himself in and out of you. You moan for him like he is the only one in the room. At this stage, you don't care one bit about your husband anymore. The only thing that you want is Baekhyun's fat cock rearranging your guts to fit him.

"Please faster" you plead. Baekhyun smirks but decides to grant your wish and goes faster and even deeper inside you. You throw your head back as he tightens his grip on your waist. Making your breast jump and the desk shake to the sound of your skin clashing.

He feels so good inside you, no one can ever fill you up like he does with his huge cock. You moan for him, forgetting about your husband right underneath you. You want Baekhyun to hear how good he makes you feel.

"Does it feel good baby"? he groans in your ear.

"Yes!" you reply without hesitation, his low voice sending goosebumps on your skin.

"Does my cock feel good?"

"Yes! Aaah.. So good!!" you close your eyes as you feel the knot tightening again.

"Yes you're a dirty little slut of a wife" he whispers in your ear.

Seokjong palms himself harder, rubbing circles on his aching cock. Drunk on the sounds that you make only for Baekhyun. Droplets of your juices crash on his cheeks and bottom lip which he sucks off hurriedly. It's almost like you never tasted so good.

Baekhyun picks up the pace again when he feels your pussy tightly gripping on his cock.

"Moan for me slut" he says through gritted teeth.

"Aaaah Baekhyun I'm cumming" you moan shamelessly. But Baekhyun once again slows down, a whimper escapes your lips as you feel your orgasm getting away.

"I'll let you cum if you tell Seokjong how much of a disgraceful wife you are" he says in a low voice, groaning in your ear as he fucks you at an agonizingly slow pace. You whimper, not wanting to go that far.

Seokjong doesn't move anymore, he holds his breath, somehow... he wants to hear that...

Baekhyun violently thrusts inside you to convince you. You scream out a moan to the immensely pleasurable but ephemeral sensation. With a trembling lip you start.

"Seokjong I'm sorry to be such an undeserving wife" you start, Baekhyung goes ever so slightly faster inside you.

"Aaaah... I let Baekhyun fuck me and... Aaaah.. I love it"

Seokjong rubs himself through his pants once again.

"But his dick is so much better than yours... Aaaaah"

"Good girl continue" Baekhyun encourages you by fucking you harder.

"There's no way... Aaaah... I can go back to your tiny penis anymore... Aaaah. After getting a taste of Baekhyun's huge cock"

Baekhyun goes even deeper and faster. The knot is threatening to come undone at anytime.

"Baekhyun's cock is... aaaah... aah... So good I only want him to make me cum. Only he knows how to manhandle me."

Seokjong furiously palms himself underneath you, his face towards your heat, where he carefully watches his beloved wife's pussy get rammed by his boss.

"Good girl." Baekhyun praises as he doesn't stop fucking you mercilessly. Feeling your pussy twitch around his cock. "Now cum for me baby. Cum on this dick baby" he commands.

You give yourself in to the pleasure Baekhyun makes you feel as your tongue loosely hangs out of your mouth and your eyes roll back. You can't control anything anymore. You're cumming harder than ever.

"Seokjong, listen to me moan while I cum on Baekhyun's fat cock" you scream as you finally cross the edge.

Your pussy pulsing around Baekhyun's huge cock inside you. You scream Baekhyun's name one last time as your juices gush out of you again. So much liquid spurts out of your pussy, to completely soak your husband that is still sitting right underneath you.

Seokjong releases himself in his pants. A stain of cum appears on his crotch through his pants as he opens his mouth wide to catch as much squirt as he can. He drinks your juices as his dick pulses under his hand.

Pleasure completely takes over your body, making your mind blank until the only thing you can ever remember it’s this incredible sensation of Baekhyun’s cock inside you.

You don't even have time to get down from your high that Baekhyun pulls on your hair to make you face him and kneel before him. He violently pumps his fist around his cock.

"I'm gonna cum in your mouth. Baby open wide" Without even a second thought you open your mouth and stick your tongue out more than happy to welcome his warm cum.

Finally Baekhyun shoots to the back of your throat and all over your face. You look delighted as so much thick cum coats your tongue and cheeks, the delicious bitter and manly taste spreads in your mouth and makes your head dizzy.

You fully savour his cum playing with it in your mouth before swallowing it all. Baekhyun looks at you with a satisfied smile. He taught you well. His eyes turn to your husband again.

"Now Kiss her. I want you to taste my cum in your beloved wife's mouth".

To Seokjong it's an unexpected miracle. He quickly scoots over to you and happily links your lips together. The bitter taste spreads to his mouth as he thoroughly licks and sucks your tongue, not forgetting one corner of your mouth.

Seokjong never told you either, but with time he also came to anticipate the visits to Mr Byun's house.

You both liked the thrill of doing something so bad, so wrong. But it felt so right and both of you were hooked.

Baekhyun smirked, a carnivorous smile plastered on his face. In the end, he both transformed you. He was proud of turning a happy couple into to two adulterous sex hungry freaks.

"See you next month"

PARAPHILIA masterlist | General masterlist

[rattyoakenbitch]

youtubers: “don’t touch her” ₊˚ ⸝  corpse husband x reader

❝i don't wanna think about, think about you. drink up, drink up i'm so fucked up, all i want is you.❞

gif credit: n/a song: lykke li - sex money feelings die

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

pairings: corpse husband x reader

warnings: angst, cursing, drinking, smoking, violent language, and minor mentions of anxiety.

summary: i can’t make summaries rn hhh just read it (:

“Sean, there is no way in hell I’m going!”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’ll be fun!”

“That’s what you always say!”

“Ugh, you and Corpse are so stubborn. At least I was able to convince him to show up! You know what you need? To get out of the house more often and come hang with us.”

“Uh huh, yeah, y’all have fun, I got some stuff to finish.”

“Yeah? Like what? Your ten hour nap?”

“HEY! Excuse me -”

“7PM, [club address], you’re showing up.”

“Sean - !”

With that, Sean hung up. You let out an exasperated huff, crossing your arms and pouting like a toddler who was just denied a toy. You were invited, or more accurrately forced to celebrate whatever the hell Sean and his friends achieved. With lives like theirs, it seemed like there was always something to celebrate. 

You, on the other hand.. Well, you were just little old you. You met Sean by mere chance. It’s a very long story, but you shared some things in common, like your love for video games. However, that was about the only thing you could relate to with Sean and his little friend circle. You were more passionate about writing, as well as reading short horror stories. 

Now, that’s where you clicked with Corpse Husband. 

He was an underrated YouTuber, whose main uploads were narration videos on creepypastas and horror stories. That’s until he blew up with his Among Us gameplays, collaborating with big names like PewDiePie, Jacksepticeye, and CrankGamePlays (EEF!!!).

You met over an Among Us stream with said YouTubers and immediately hit it off. You shared a dark sense of humor, love for horror, and music. You knew of Corpse before, but only then did you discover that he produced music, which you absolutely enjoyed (and blasted in your house for days on end).

When you found out you lived not even twenty minutes away from each other, you’d occasionally meet up, mostly at his house considering he only went out once in a blue moon. You’d sometimes even spend the night at his place, staying up late, gazing up at the stars, getting deep into conversation and opening up about things you never blurted out to people. But when you were with Corpse, everything just came naturally. You felt safe with him, and hopefully, he felt the same. 

Night approached, the clock striking 5PM. You figured you’d get ready since Sean was dead set on you coming to the party. You showered, did a minimalist glossy makeup look, and chose an outfit, which consisted of a half neon green and black skirt that stopped mid thigh, and an oversized distressed band tee which you tucked into your belt. You slipped on a pair of ripped, striped thigh-highs with mismatched colors, (white stripes on one and neon blue on the other), and your platform boots that made you look like a Bratz Doll. You didn’t bother with your tangled hair. You teased it with a brush but didn’t put any effort into styling it, since it’d get messy anyways. To finish your look, you clipped on a choker and dangled a couple of layered chains around your neck.

Corpse would tease you, saying you had a “dog collar”, but you knew he secretly liked it.

All dolled up and ready to go, you hopped into your car and followed the GPS to the address Sean sent you. Drunk couples stumbled out of the club, dates headed inside, and old wasted guys were thrown out. Oh boy, you were not ready for this.

You were the anxious, anti social type. Not because it was edgy or cool, but you simply didn’t know how to handle social situations. However, it comforted you to know Corpse would be there by your side so you didn’t need to chat and flirt with strangers. 

It’s not like you wanted to meet anybody new, anyways. Though nobody was aware of it, you had feelings for Corpse. Cliche, right? You knew you shouldn’t have, but you developed feelings for him. It made you feel strange and weird, considering you haven’t caught feelings in a while.

You came up with the bright idea of slowly drifting away from Corpse to maybe help de-escalate these feelings, but you were going to run into him at the club, so what the heck.

You headed inside, your eyes scanning the crowd and pushing through, searching for your friend group. You spent a couple minutes cluelessly looking around the club, but to no avail. Then, it was as if a light bulb clicked on over your head; you never thought to phone Sean.

“Ugh, I’m so stupid.” You reached into your purse to get ahold of your phone when a pair of strong, manly hands and cold metal which you assumed to be rings wrapped around your shoulders, gripping you tightly. 

“Boo!” 

You felt your heart stop and ran out of the man’s grasp, spinning around to look at who it was.

“Oh, did I scare you?” 

The man’s deep, monotone voice rumbled above the sound of the music and shouts. Then you recognized that unique and distinctive voice. 

“Corpse!! What the hell?”

His nose and jaw was covered by a black mask, with a print that looked like Frank from Donnie Darko, which was also Corpse’s signature look, seen in his channel art. 

Despite Corpse being a faceless YouTuber, only very few people have seen his face, including you and Glam&Gore who he featured in his narration videos. You thought he was very handsome, his baritone voice matching his appearance. You had to admit, you were a little disappointed he chose to wear a mask. You loved seeing his facial expressions, especially his precious smile that would light up the room when he’d let out little fits of laughter. But you got over it and respected the fact that he wanted to remain anonymous.

“You dickhead,” you scoffed, smacking Corpse lightly on the shoulder. Corpse towered over you, looking admittedly both intimidating and seductive. If you were a stranger, you’d probably be running off, but you weren’t scared of Corpse. He was a big softie and a teddy bear.

Corpse chuckled lowly, slinging his arm over your shoulder and leading you to Sean’s group. He was protective like that, even if you were just friends. Now you could see why Sean, at one point, speculated that you and Corpse had a thing going on. 

“So, Sean forced you to tag along, too?”

“Pfft, yeah, that’s Sean for you.”

“Hey, there’s my favorite couple,” Sean joked, patting your shoulder. You rolled your eyes at his drunk antics.

“Shut up, don’t make me choke you like I hate you,” you mocked in return, eliciting a fit of laughter from the group. 

“Remind me to never hang out with you losers again,” Corpse mumbled sarcastically under his breath.

The night went by in a flash. Sean, Thomas, Felix, and everyone else was blackout drunk. Luckily, Mark was there to assist them. Since Mark couldn’t drink, he would be the designated driver that night. Corpse hung out by himself, sometimes getting approached by women who he politely turned down.

You, on the other hand, were downing alcohol like your life depended on it. For you, it would take more than the average number of drinks for you to get wasted.

“Y/N, don’t you think you should slow down?” Corpse questioned cautiously, resting a hand on the small of your back.

“Does it really look like I’m thinking right now?” you drunkenly slurred, following with a giggle. You waved to the bartender, calling for another shot, which he slid over to you, but not without hesitating after noticing your state. You pushed Corpse off of you, probably more harshly than you intended, and took the shot. 

“Okay, Y/N, fuck this, I’m taking you to my place. We can’t stay here and you certainly can’t drive back home when you’re drunk,” Corpse scowled, stepping closer to you. Again, you shoved him back.

“No.. No..” You sighed, holding your pounding head in your hand. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Y/N, you’re drunk -”

“I’m not letting you of all people take me.”

Corpse blinked. “What does that mean?” He knew you were drunk, of course, and you were probably just blurting nonsense.

All of a sudden, tears escaped your eyes, racing down your blushy cheeks.

“No.. I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.” You began to shake and tremble as tears started to uncontrollably spill down your face. Corpse didn’t waste another second to take you in his arms, hushing you. “Your hugs are so warm.. I hate it. I hate feeling this way. It’s all my fault.”

“What did you do, sweetheart? You can tell me.”

Your heart ached when you heard his pet name for you.

“I think I may like you more than you like me.. I-I didn’t mean to! Please don’t leave me. You’re all I have,” you sobbed into his white tee, clinging onto him. “I love you so fucking much, it hurts. I shouldn’t have!”

Corpse stopped for a moment, processing your words.

You.. felt the same?

Corpse had to tell you. You were drunk, but he needed you to know. 

“Y/N, I -”

Suddenly, you had a moment of clarity. Realizing how close you were to Corpse, you backed away, wiping away the mascara tears under your eyes.

“I - I think I had too much to drink.. I just need a smoke..” 

Without giving Corpse the chance to protest, you ran off into the crowd, struggling your way through. 

Corpse began to get worried when you didn’t come back. He waited impatiently on the barstool where you left him, anxiously playing with his rings.

He was just about to get up and look for you, when he caught a glimpse of you stumbling out the exit with another man who guided you, gripping your arm tightly.

Corpse fumed, his face going red and heartbeat speeding up. He went after you, knowing damn well you didn’t know this man. 

The man took you to his car, placing you atop the trunk, your legs dangling over the edge. He stepped in between your legs, caressing your face. Everything was a blur. If your mind was clear, you wouldn’t be stupid enough to trust this random guy, who was probably ten years older than you. 

“You’re too pretty to be crying,” he whispered, leaning in closer to your face, until a yell stopped him from proceeding any further.

“Hey, asshole, she’s drunk! Don’t you fucking touch her!”

“C-Corpse?” You hiccuped, hopping off the trunk to get a look at the approaching figure. It was indeed Corpse. His eyebrows were pressed together angrily at the sight.

“You know this dude?” the man said loudly and smugly, just to get a reaction from Corpse. “Relax, my man, I’m just tryna take this pretty girl home.”

“Well this pretty girl happens to be mine, and I won’t let you take advantage of her,” Corpse growled. 

You stood by the stranger, clinging to him as you watched Corpse’s face twist into an expression of heartbreak when you didn’t budge. He then noticed the bruises around your arms and wrist, supposedly from the man’s strong grip. He was unbelievably furious. 

“Ha, doesn’t look like she’s your girl anymore.” The man’s lips twisted upwards into a devilish smirk, only pissing Corpse off some more. Oh boy, was he ready to snap. He reached into his pocket, when..

“Wait,” you managed to slur out, breaking up the argument. You reached out towards Corpse like a child. His facial expression immediately softened. He gave you a loving smile and immediately took you into his arms, holding you protectively. 

“Now, I suggest you get in your car and never come back,” Corpse threatened.

“Oh, yeah? Or what? I’ll kill you and take your girl, you motherfucker!”

Without hesitation, Corpse took out his switchblade, looking the man in his eyes.

“Say that again?”

You watched as the stranger’s whole tough act fell apart. Without another word, he ran to the driver’s side of his car, fumbling with his keys. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Corpse mumbled, not taking his eyes off the man until he reached his own car. You held his hand the whole way, processing what had just happened. Corpse noticed your distant expression. You got into his car, shutting the door and slumping back into your seat. He tore off his mask, taking in deep breaths to calm himself. Then he looked back to you. 

“Princess?”

You looked to Corpse, your eyes teary. “Hey, Corpse.” You didn’t seem to be as drunk, your mind a lot clearer after the incident. “D-Did you mean anything you said back there? About the..”

“About you being my girl?” 

Corpse took your hand in his, squeezing it comfortingly. He leaned forward and cupped your face with his free hand. “Absolutely.” 

With that, you leaned towards him, hesitantly pressing your lips to his. Your lips tasted of alcohol, but Corpse didn’t care. He was admittedly taken back, his breath hitching, but he released the tension from his body and kissed you back, pulling you over to the driver’s seat atop him. There wasn’t much space, forcing you to press closer to Corpse, deepening the kiss. 

Still being a bit drunk, you were clumsy and kind of ‘out of it’. 

“I’d hold onto something if I were you,” Corpse mumbled, breaking the kiss momentarily to guide your hands to grip his shoulders. But you were impatient and reconnected your lips with his, no doubt causing him to blush even more than he already was.

You couldn’t help yourself and giggled into the kiss, causing Corpse to chuckle along with you, departing from the kiss again and resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry, you’re just so fucking adorable when you giggle.” 

You hummed in response, offering Corpse an innocent grin as you pecked all over his face. 

“I’m so glad you’re mine.”

[kakashisdarling]

Steamy Neighbor II - Kakashi Hatake

Thanks to the amazing @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored for requesting a second part to Steamy Neighbor. Find the first part here. And thanks for reading❤️

Kakashi x reader

I shut my eyes open as I hear a strange noise, only to find myself in a bedroom that’s not mine. A cold drop of sweat runs through my spine as I manage to sit in the bed. The room’s decorated in a minimalistic way with neutral tones and wooden furniture. Somehow it feels soothing.

Shit. I’m at Kakashi’s.

I press my eyelids harshly, trying to remember the events of last night. We came home from the mission and drank some sake to celebrate the good news. We had been camping in the forest near our village, keeping an eye on the east lurkers while Gai and Iruka stayed close to the ones in the west. In the end, they turned out to be a group of adventurers who had gotten lost on their way to the Mist Village, they even asked us for directions and advice regarding the terrain. Meaning they were completely harmless.

Slowly I get out of the bed and take a glance outside, looking for the source of the strange noise. I sense movement in the kitchen. The silver haired ninja is on his knees scouting the inside of a cabinet, with a soft groan he pulls out a rice cooker and leaves it on the surface near the stove, where he is cooking something in a pan.

“That smells good” I say with a husky sleepy tone. Kakashi turns to me and presumably he is smiling, as the corners of his visible eye crease faintly.

“I know you usually just drink juice in the morning, so I thought you could use a decent breakfast for a change.”

“That’s not true, I pick up snacks on the way or cry at Iruka’s door until he feeds me” I poorly try to defend myself as I walk and lean on the countertop near him.

“The last two weeks before our mission you only drank juice, I know for sure.”

My jaw drops wide open at his statement.

“Were you spying on me all this time? What a stalker!” I pretend to sound offended as I raise the back of my hand to my forehead. Kakashi chuckles and his cheekbones turn slightly reddish. He looks adorable and I wish I could see that blush in his bare cheeks.

“You talk to yourself very loudly, so it is hard not to peek at your morning routine when you’re basically narrating everything and growling at the oranges while squeezing them.”

Now it’s my turn to blush. I do tend to talk to myself a lot, saying what I’m thinking without any filter helps me clear my head. I try to fight the heat in my cheeks as I think of a sharp response.

Eureka.

“So, Kakashi, do you have a specific schedule for cooking naked? You should really let me know, I could come give you a hand those days” I tease with a naughty smile.

Kakashi closes his eyes as his full face turns bright red.

“It depends. I only do it if my nosy neighbor happens to be in her kitchen” he says cheekily.

“Oh” I mumble a little surprised but ready for another round. “Should I go to my kitchen this morning?”

“You can mock me all you want, in the end my plan worked out well, didn’t it?” a wide smile forms in his lips beneath the dark cloth and he raises an eyebrow suggestively. He seems to have the blush under control now.

“It worked? I’m not sure it did, you haven’t even asked me out” I keep teasing, in response he chuckles stridently.

“You can’t give me that argument when you just woke up in my bed.”

He has a point.

“Did we -uhm- sleep together?”

“We just slept,” he smiles reassuringly. “You literally passed out on the couch after asking me to bring your pajamas.”

Oh no.

“Did you…?” my voice breaks before I finish my question.

“You changed on your own. But don’t worry, next time I’ll do it myself.”

“KAKASHI HATAKE!” I scream embarrassed, this time unable to fight the intense flush in my face, my thoughts running wild.

He giggles playfully, resembling a child whose mischief was a complete success.

“So what are your plans for today?”

“Mmmmm, we still have to hand in the mission report. And I’m really craving some ramen, so I’ll probably try to persuade Iruka into coming to Ichiraku with me.”

“I could go with you,” Kakashi says with a subtle undertone.

Is he shy all of a sudden after giving me an intentional naked show less than a week ago? This man is unbelievable.

“Oh. I’d really like that and Iruka probably can’t wait to get back to his kids.”

He nods and without a word, he takes out two bowls and serves a generous portion of rice on each. Then he sprinkles some furikake on top and adds a dried egg and sesame seeds. With a warm expression he points to the chair and puts the bowls next to each other.

“Thank you, Kakashi,” I utter while sitting next to him. He stares at me expectantly until I shove the first bite in my mouth. “Mmmmmm this tastes delicious, your seasoning is amazing.”

“Better than Iruka’s?” he asks with a light hue of possessiveness, I nod cheerfully. “Then, next time you’re hungry you should cry at my door.”

Involuntarily, a strangled laugh slips from my throat.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

———————

My eyebrows pin together when I feel someone poking my back. I turn around to find a pair of curious blue eyes.

"Y/n-sensei” Naruto greets me. “What are you doing with Kakashi-sensei?” he asks nosily.

“Naruto! Don’t be rude” the pink haired girl scolds.

“We’re just heading to Ichiraku,” I reply, unsure of what to say.

“Can I tag along?”

“Naruto!” Sakura calls impatiently.

“Didn’t you hear that Iruka-sensei is back? He’s probably looking for you” Kakashi suddenly draws Naruto’s attention.

“Iruka-sensei is back? He owes me a bowl of ramen!” the blonde boy exclaims as he starts walking away. Sakura smiles gently and waves goodbye.

“He’s a handful, huh?” I point at the direction in which Naruto disappeared.

“Sometimes, but he will be a great shinobi one day” Kakashi smiles fondly.

“That’s for sure, he has the best sensei” once again, Kakashi indulges me by blushing under his mask.

 The rest of the way to Ichiraku is silent but not in the slightest awkward.

“Kakashi-sensei, Y/n-sensei! What can I offer you?” Teuchi greets us as we take a seat next to each other.

“Two orders of traditional ramen, please.” Teuchi nods and disappears in the kitchen.

“So…” Kakashi mumbles near my ear. “Is this a date?”

“You tell me.”

“I think it is. The first of many, if things go according to my masterplan” he smirks playfully.

All flustered, I shyly take initiative and lean towards him. In the blink of an eye, Kakashi tugs his mask down and gently presses his plump lips against mine. “And this is the very first kiss of many,” he promises softly. And I certainly find myself hoping it is.

 Finally, it’s here! This took me a long time, sorry but hope you enjoyed it. This is definitely not the ending, please keep an eye out for the third and last part (which will probably be smut xD).

Also, I have an announcement *drums, please* we’ve reached 100 followers!!!!! And as a thank you gift, we’ll be having a week of daily fics 03/22-28 (not only about Kakashi, but also other Naruto boys). I’ve already planned some of the fics, but I’m open to any specific requests.

I deeply want to thank you for all the support you’ve given me. Thank you, thank you, thank you ❤️

[luminousalicorn]

do you have a mental image of what the like clothing styles and architectural style of amenta looks like? is it pretty similar to modern earth? presumably they don't have very different gendered clothing, but do they have casted clothing/architectural styles?

I haven't done a ton of worldbuilding on this, but, some snippets:

- the Amentan native Bell, Pelape, who is a member of a template whose dress sense is "whatever's default, I don't care" owns a closetful of dark ankle-length skintight leggings, and bright loose drapey scoopnecked elbow-length-sleeve, mid-thigh-hem shirts with hip pockets to put over them, all solid colors. She's grey and it's probably casted at least some, though she's definitely not playing up the greyness since she hates being grey and it's at least something you'd find on some oranges, yellows, and greens too.

- They like skyscrapers, and glass.

- If there is some architectural way to avoid the need for rain gutters, they do that; I don't know enough about what alternatives to rain gutters there are to say what "that" is but they don't want to clean rain gutters.

- I think denim-like and similar tough fabrics are mostly a purple thing.

- Headwear is reserved for backup caste signals (if they're not practical headgear, like hard hats or hair nets). You don't wear hats just because they're fashion, at least not in a color that isn't yours. I think hoods and earmuffs are preferred to cold-weather hats when you have to pick, for this reason, though that's not a hard rule.

- Vague sense that maybe extensive layering is a status symbol.

- They don't go in for distressed clothing, patches, or anything else that evokes the concept of damage and repair. By and large they won't wear things with visible stains. (But they're very good at getting stains out.)

- Residential architecture is casted a fair bit, at least in practice - big houses with gardens for blues, apartments for basically everybody else unless they don't live in a city, greys have smaller individual units so some space can be set aside for a pool or ball courts or whatever, yellow buildings advertise good soundproofing. I think probably you get art installations in green buildings? Maybe rotating ones or something.

- In the accessories department I think you might get a phenomenon where purples wear lots and blues wear lots and greens only wear them if they're especially statement-y in some way and the others are going more minimalist with the bangles if they have any.

- Pockets for everything. They call them "pocket everythings" for a reason.

[drarrymybeloved]

Love in a Five Part Act

my third entry for the summer writin challenge! prompt: crashing a party, trope: fake dating & craft: reverse chronology. many thanks to @the-starryknight for holding my hand through this one <3

Harry is pacing. He’s walking in tight circles in the entryway, drawing curious glances from everyone passing through. He tugs at the collar of his robes, the same ones he bought with Draco. No cravat this time, though.

Draco likes to show up to these things twenty five minutes after the indicated time – “You mustn’t seem too eager nor must you be tardy” – so Harry’s been pacing for the last twenty minutes.

His stomach is a shivering ball of nerves and there’s the slightest of tremors in his hands. He could have just written a letter, or shown up at Draco’s house, but Draco likes grand gestures and Harry’s the all-in sort of guy, so here he is. Pacing.

The main doors open just then. Harry looks up, gut tightening. Dressed in peacock blue with hints of dark green, Draco looks gorgeous. Harry’s nerves calm for a second as he takes in the familiar sight – despite everything, Draco feels like home. And then Draco’s eyes find his and the nerves are back tenfold.

Draco’s mouth drops open a bit and his brow furrows before he quickly schools his features into a polite mask. He approaches Harry and asks without preamble, “What are you doing here?”

“Attending the ball?” Harry attempts feebly. He hadn’t bothered to think of exactly what he would say to Draco. Not one of his finest ideas, in retrospect.

Draco arches one unimpressed eyebrow. “Obviously, Potter. I meant why are you here?”

“Draco,” Harry whispers, giving up on a heartfelt speech and letting the one word encompass everything he’s feeling.

Draco’s eyes widen, surprise making his mask drop. He takes an uneven breath in. “We agreed, remember? We don’t need this,” he pauses and looks around before continuing in a lower tone. “This arrangement anymore. You got what you needed and so have I.”

“Yes,” Harry agrees. “I got what I needed. But what about what I want?”

A moment passes. The silence between them stretches and swells, the din of the nearby party falling away.

“And what do you want?” Draco asks finally, his voice nothing more than a whisper. His hands are restless, the tips of his fingers coming together in patterns only he’s privy to. Harry remembers Draco doing this before, when Skeeter wrote a vicious article on how “Malfoy’s Death Eater nature” was going to “corrupt our Saviour.” He remembers wanting to catch those fluttering hands in his own, to tell Draco no one listens to Skeeter anymore, tell him that he likes having Draco around and to hell with Skeeter and her ilk.

Harry allows himself to reach out this time and gently laces his hands through Draco’s.

“This,” he says, heart pounding but voice sure. He squeezes Draco’s hands once. “For real this time.”

Slowly, a smile blooms over Draco’s face, his body relaxing. “I’ve been told I’m high maintenance,” he says slightly breathlessly.

Harry laughs, relief flooding through him. “Nothing I can’t handle, I’m sure.”

“No, you did rather well,” Draco murmurs, genuine under the banter.

Warm with fondness, Harry presses a kiss to his cheek before gesturing to the ballroom. “Shall we?” he asks, offering his arm. Draco smiles and tucks his hand securely in the crook of Harry’s elbow.

They are yet again subjected to stares that have not gotten any subtler and conversations that keep prodding at personal boundaries. But none of that matters because this time when Draco calls Harry “darling” he’s not holding anything back, and when Harry calls him “love” it’s because he wants to and not because he’s fulfilling a role.

-----

Harry steps through Draco’s Floo into his living room, letting the bright space settle the apprehension he’s been unable to shake off ever since he got Draco’s letter. He loves this room, with its neutral toned furniture interrupted with colorful cushions and throws. It suits Draco. The kitchen was more of a surprise. When he had first come here, about a week into their arrangement, Harry had been expecting modern fittings and a minimalist layout. Instead, Draco’s kitchen has exposed brick walls and buttery yellow cabinets. A honey oak table stretches through the length of the space and potted plants sit in the windowsills. Now that he knows Draco’s penchant for baking and how he likes to unwind by immersing himself in time-consuming recipes, Harry thinks nothing could suit Draco more.

“Malfoy?” Harry calls out. He’s Draco now, really, but only in the privacy of Harry’s head.

“Kitchen,” comes the answer.

“Hey,” Harry says, smiling a little at the sight of Draco in a cozy jumper bathed in warm afternoon sunlight. “Is this about the gala day after tomorrow? You think we should attend it?”

An uncertain look crosses Draco’s face before he takes a deep breath. Harry feels his smile slipping.

“Yes, I think it would be a good opportunity to meet a few people I’ve been hoping to talk with,” Draco hedges, and Harry can hear the “but” coming from a mile away. Sure enough, Draco continues. “But, I think we’ve done enough damage control, both in terms of everyone’s opinion of me and your situation with the press. I can’t keep pretending–”

He cuts himself off and presses his lips together, hands clutching the counter behind him. He’d look almost relaxed if it weren’t for the tension evident in his shoulders, his pronounced knuckles. Harry remembers kissing those knuckles, tipsy on champagne, and spinning Draco to some fast number.

“Right,” Harry says hoarsely, unable to formulate a response over the echo of “I can’t keep pretending” in his head, a mocking symphony.

He can’t think beyond the roiling in his gut and the ice pooling at the base of his spine. This was coming, it had always been coming, so why is he so surprised?

“So, that’s it then?” he asks, even though he knows the answer.

“Yes,” Draco says stiffly. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Harry nods woodenly. Manages a “You too,” before he turns and leaves.

-----

Harry hears the Floo flare from downstairs. A second later, Malfoy calls out, “Potter?”

“Yeah, up here, second floor,” Harry answers from his room, wrestling with the complicated tie – “It’a cravat, Potter, honestly” – Malfoy had him buy for the Ministry event they’re attending tonight, along with a whole new set of dress robes.

He hears an annoyed huff from near the doorway before Malfoy comes to stand behind him.

He meets Harry’s eyes through the mirror. “What on earth are you doing with that? Here, let me.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but starts to turn around. Malfoy stops him, holding onto his shoulders to make him face the mirror again.

“What are you doing?” Harry asks, steadfastly ignoring the quickening of his heartbeat at the brief contact.

Malfoy shrugs. “It’s easier this way,” he says, reaching around Harry’s chest to tie the cravat, the movement bringing him tantalisingly close to Harry.

Harry stays perfectly still, painfully aware of Malfoy’s proximity. He can feel Malfoy’s body heat, can smell his sweet vanilla scent – one tiny step backwards, and his body would be flush against Malfoy’s.

Harry closes his eyes briefly, swallowing forcefully. He opens his eyes and fixes them firmly on Malfoy’s hands in the mirror, competently manipulating the cravat with slender fingers.

Oh Merlin.

“There we go,” Malfoy tucks the cravat into Harry’s robes and smoothes his hands down Harry’s chest in a perfunctory fashion, making gooseflesh erupt all over Harry’s arms.

“Thanks,” Harry all but gasps, stepping quickly away from Malfoy, hoping he can’t see the furious blush on his cheeks. “Let’s get going then.”

It’s been a while since he’s had any good reason to attend a Ministry function, but Harry’s been to enough of them to detest the entire enterprise. He’d much rather make his donations from the safety and privacy of his own home, thank you very much. So it’s with no small amount of trepidation that Harry enters the ballroom with Malfoy on his arm.

People immediately take notice, the whispers spreading like wildfire. Harry can already feel a headache building.

“We knew they would stare – let them. I’ll do the talking, you try to look like you’re not being tortured,” Malfoy murmurs at his side, smiling charmingly at the guests they pass.

Despite himself, Harry snorts. “Who says I’m not?” he whispers back, feeling a pleasant jolt at the genuine grin Malfoy shoots him before he turns the charm back on.

As the night progresses, Harry has to admit, he’s not being tortured. It’s definitely not his idea of a fun time, but with Malfoy there, it’s at least tolerable. Each time the conversation starts heading towards Harry’s personal life, Malfoy subtly changes the topic with a well-placed enquiry.

“Would you get a glass of champagne for me, darling?” Malfoy asks, turning towards him a little, a private smile on his face. Harry’s breath hitches. The endearment is a new addition to their arrangement. But of course, it would only be natural for Malfoy to use one, especially where others could hear them.

“Sure, love,” Harry answers, not deciding to use an endearment of his own until he had already said it. Along with Malfoy’s champagne, he returns with a glass of Firewhiskey for himself, letting the spicy warmth settle his nerves.

They don’t stay for too long – Harry had been adamant on no more than an hour and a half and was surprised when Malfoy had agreed without any complaints.

“That wasn’t so bad actually,” Harry tells Malfoy as they walk towards a secluded part of the lawns to Apparate home. Their respective homes, obviously.

“Yes, it went quite well, I think,” Malfoy responds with a bright smile. “I was a little worried people might not buy us,” he gestures between them, “together, but they lapped it right up.”

Something cold and heavy sinks into Harry’s stomach, replacing the tentative warmth that was glowing through him not a minute ago. Of course. In between all the touching and the endearments and Malfoy’s surprisingly considerate nature, Harry had somehow managed to forget that this was all a show.

“Right,” Harry says, throat tight. “I think I’ll head home now, tiring night and all that.” He gives Malfoy the best approximation of a smile he can manage and Apparates away.

-----

They step out of the restaurant together, holding hands. The number of reporters camped outside had been steadily rising as Harry and Malfoy fed each other bites of food and exchanged fond looks — all carefully planned and executed of course.

The questions come hurtling at them from all sides, accompanied by bursts of camera flashes. Most of them are directed towards Harry.

"Mr. Potter, are you courting Draco Malfoy?"

"Mr. Potter, sir, did Ginevra Weasley leave you because you're interested in men?"

"Smile for the camera sir!"

“Was your relationship with Ms. Weasley a sham?”

Too much, it’s all far too much. Harry has never been good with dealing with the press, and he’s out of practice now. The flashes blind him and the questions echo oddly in his head. His chest burns with every sip of air he struggles to take.

He feels an arm snake around his waist, gripping firmly for a moment, before withdrawing to his upper back and rubbing faint circles between his shoulder blades. Malfoy steps forward, smoothly answering questions, appearing totally unruffled, while his hand continues to move over Harry's back. Harry isn't listening to a word of what Malfoy is saying. Instead, he focuses on Malfoy's hand on his back, letting the point of contact ground him, the repetitive movement soothing.

When they land on Harry's doorstep, Malfoy shoots him a curious look. His hand still rests on Harry's back — once he had answered all the questions he intended to, he'd neatly stepped back from the gaggle of reporters and Apparated them to Grimmauld right then and there.

Harry makes the mistake of looking at Malfoy. Caught up in his intense gaze and feeling a little discombobulated from the restaurant, Harry freezes. His mind is still stuck on the comfort of Malfoy’s hand on his back, of his solid grip on his waist, and his feelings are a tangled mess. Some of it must be showing on Harry’s face, because Malfoy’s expression changes and he turns more fully to Harry, the beginnings of a sentence on his lips.

Hot panic bursts in Harry’s chest. Hastily stepping away from Malfoy, he stumbles over his words. “I should, um– thanks for today, er, send me an Owl for next time,” he says, backing away towards his front door. He shuts the door before Malfoy has a chance to say anything, leaning against it for support.

-----

“It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement, Potter,” Malfoy insists.

Harry scoffs, turning back to stare at his tumbler of whiskey — the muggle variety. He rarely visits wizarding pubs now, not unless he wants to make the front page of the Prophet and every other godforsaken wizarding tabloid.

From the corner of his eyes, he sees Malfoy rolling his eyes.

“I know strategy hasn’t always been your strong suit, Potter, but do think for a minute. Ever since your break up with Ginevra Weasley, the media attention you receive has increased tenfold. You can’t even have a drink in peace, can you?”

Harry turns back to face Malfoy, raising a pointed brow. Disappointingly, Malfoy doesn’t take the bait.

“You want the media to stop hounding you about your love life and I want to not be undesirable number one,” he continues. “It’s a simple equation, Potter, put the two together and the solution is obvious.”

“And yet, you’re the only one who’s arrived at it,” Harry says flatly, ignoring the whisper of it could work, actually floating at the back of his head.

“Please, Potter, we both know who the smart one is in this relationship and it certainly isn’t you,” Draco says, smirking.

“I never actually agreed to this fake-dating nonsense, Malfoy.”

“Potter,” Malfoy deadpans. “It’s been, what, five months now since your relationship ended? The press isn’t going to stop any time soon. Not unless you do something about it.”

“Thrilling that you’ve been keeping count,” Harry mumbles into his glass before taking a healthy swig. Malfoy’s right and Harry knows it. He’s tried everything — polite non-answers, straightforward “no comments”, pointed silence, and even snarled insults to leave him the fuck alone. None of it worked. This might just be his only option. No, it is his only option.

Harry sighs heavily and turns to Malfoy. “You’re going to be really high-maintenance, aren’t you?”

Malfoy smiles, languid and satisfied. “You know it, darling.”

[apaintedfoxx]

Day 4- Couch

--

read on ao3 here

--

She should’ve headed the ominous warning the dark, dense clouds tried to give her as she stepped out the door. A quick walk, she had told herself, she could beat the rain. The sky had laughed at her challenge, and about halfway through her usual route, the downpour began. Fat rain drops fell in an unrelenting torrent, cold and menacing and threatening to take every last bit of warmth from her body. Her clothes were soaked through after just minutes, the hood of her jacket a mockery of a covering.

Lena quickly runs through her route in her head; there should be a shortcut up ahead somewhere she could take if she made a turn at the café she liked to frequent with Kara…

With a decision made, she ducked her head, pulled her soaking hood tighter over her head, and trekked onward. As promised, the café soon came into sight. Lena turned into the alley that would take her back to the apartment building. She only made it a few sopping steps before she heard it.

There was a pitiful mewling coming from somewhere in the alley.

Loathe to leave any creature out suffering in this monsoon-like weather, she stopped in her tracks, trying desperately to locate the sound above the sounds of rain in the city. It was a miracle she had heard it in the first place, and of course it had stopped as soon as she noticed. The alley itself only added to the problem. It was wide, enough to fit two cars side by side, and consequently filled with stuff. A couple of dumpsters stood sentry outside back doors of businesses, while litter and trash lined both sides of the makeshift street. An abandoned couch sat further down, obviously dumped with little regard. The sound could be coming from anywhere.

“Come on little guy, where are you?” Lena muttered, as if it could hear her. By some miracle, the mewling began again almost in response to her prompting. She followed it as well as she could; it brought her to the broken couch, which looked more dilapidated the closer she got. The fabric, like everything else around, was soaked through, so the original color was hard to determine. Combined with the many stains covering its surface, the best Lena could tell was that it used to be a brown couch. There were tears in the cushions, and obvious wear in the places that were sat in the most. The sound she was searching for had gotten louder, but Lena was not looking forward to touching any of it. She decided to check the most obvious, and least repulsive, option first. She lowered herself to a crouch, ignoring the collection of water on the asphalt, given how wet she already was, and leaned over, peaking underneath the worn piece of furniture.

A tiny pair of eyes shone back at her, and she could just make out the silhouette of a small kitten.

Lena knew in an instant she was not going to be leaving it there a moment longer. It had stopped making noise as it spotted her, peering at her with an unmistakable look of curiosity. She contemplated her next move. She didn’t have anything on her that she could use to tempt the kitten out from her hiding spot, but reaching for it might scare it even further underneath.

As she considered her options, the kitten continued to observe her. It took a tentative step forward, and Lena held her breath, not wanting to scare it into retreat. It squeaked at her as it inched forward, it was getting closer and closer, almost enough for pick up.

“You can do it, little one,” she murmured encouragingly, ever so slowly extended a hand out. She made no move to grab it yet, instead resting it a few inches from the edge of the couch. She gave her fingers an experimental wiggle, hoping to entice the kitten. It froze, and Lena began to panic, she had no idea how long it had been out here by itself, and knew it needed care immediately. Before she had too much time to worry, however, the kitten gave another squeak and pounced on her hand. She quickly, and carefully, got ahold of it with her other hand and stood.

“There we go,” Lena said, finally able to get a better look at the small creature now cradled safely in her hands. Though she knew next to nothing about animals, this kitten was obviously still very young. It’s mottled black and ginger fur was plastered to it’s shivering body, and it stared up at her with mismatching eyes, one blue and one green.

Though her jacket was far from dry, Lena didn’t want the kitten directly in the rain, so she carefully cradled it close to her body, hoping some of her own natural heat would help warm it a little, and covered it with one side of her jacket. She spent another few minutes looking around to make sure the kitten had been alone, but the mewling had stopped as the kitten settled against her. After deciding it had well and truly been alone, Lena quicky made her way back to the warm, dry safety of her apartment.

---

The next few days were a kitten-focused blur. Lena had taken it to a vet as soon as she had gotten them both dry and warm. She’d learned the kitten was just barely seven weeks old, that she was female, and that besides from a bit of dehydration, she was perfectly healthy.

The problem now was figuring out what to do with her. Lena had told Kara and the others about the kitten the morning after she had found her, which resulted in a bombardment of pleas for Lena to keep her. But she couldn’t keep a kitten. Her apartment wasn’t at all prepared for a pet of any kind, and with how much time Lena spent at work, it hardly looked like she herself lived there. Sure, it was functional as far as somewhere to live was, but the décor was sparse; Kara called it empty, Lena preferred minimalistic. That, however, was rapidly changing. After initially getting used to Lena and the new space, the kitten had taken ownership of the admittedly spacious penthouse suite. It ran from room to room, the thud of little paws could be heard almost constantly during the day, and especially the middle of the night. Wishing to save her expensive furniture from the fate of sharp kitten claws, Lena quickly invested in some toys for her to play with, just until she figured out a home for the little one, she sternly told herself and any teasing friends.

Having to eventually return to work resulted in Lena bringing the rambunctious kitten with her. Being her own boss did have some perks, after all, and she didn’t trust the little monster enough to leave her unattended in her apartment. Watching the kitten explore the new environment was admittedly adorable, and when Kara visited for lunch, she spent the entire time curled up in the other woman’s lap, watching her with rapt attention. Kara threw out some not so subtle name suggestions.

Gradually, the kitten became something more permanent. Lena got more toys for her to play with, and some proper items for kitten care, including soft food and a litter box. Lena’s strictly neat, magazine cover worthy apartment became something a little more lived in. On a day Lena wasn’t able to take the kitten to work, she reluctantly left her at the apartment with plenty of food and toys in her vicinity. Upon return, Lena was surprised to see the apartment still standing, and the kitten fast asleep underneath Lena’s couch, her little black paws a stark contrast to the white fabric of the couch. It had become a favorite nap spot of hers, unsurprisingly.

After that, she wasn’t as nervous about leaving the kitten alone. In fact, without realizing it, she gave Lena a reason to come home at night. Late nights at the office were no longer an option to a kitten that had a seemingly endless appetite and energy level, and with the apartment not being so startingly empty anymore, she found herself enjoying spending time within its walls. Even her friends began to notice, teasingly pointing out how messy the space had become when they came over.

It was game night when it all clicked for Lena.

Her friends had a long-standing tradition of game night, everyone took turns hosting, and tonight was Lena’s turn. She had tried to clean up after the kitten the best she could, but the little creature had had other ideas, and shortly after everyone had arrived, she proceeded to throw all of her toys around and climb into everyone’s laps.

It was many hours later, however, and the fun had wound down for the night. Most everyone had left, and Kara had stayed behind as usual to help clean up the games and leftover snacks. They now sat comfortably on Lena’s couch, each with a glass of wine in hand, a late night tv show playing quietly in the background. The kitten was, to no one’s surprise, curled up happily in Kara’s lap, purring contently.

“She likes you,” Lena said softly, watching the sleeping kitten. Kara only gave a hum in response, gently running her fingers through the kitten’s soft fur.

Several minutes passed in this comfortable silence, before Kara spoke up. “She still doesn’t have a name,” she said.

Lena lifted her gaze from the kitten to find Kara’s eyes on her, watching her curiously.

“I haven’t found anything that really fit,” Lena admitted, giving a slight shrug of her shoulder.

Kara smiled. “She’s good for you.”

Lena didn’t ask for an explanation, nor did she need one. It was obvious, though surprising. She would never have considered herself a good candidate for owning a pet, considering how demanding her job was.

“I love how much energy she has. How rambunctious and curious she is. I found her starving under a broken couch, and yet she hasn’t let any of that affect her,” Lena admitted, taking a sip of her wine. She had clearly already had too much of the stuff, if she was getting this introspective already.

Kara only smiled in response, and as silence fell once again, Lena contemplated her words. A smile broke across her face, and she looked at her closest friend. “I know the perfect name for her.”

“And what’s that?” Kara asked with a sweet smile of her own.

“Hope. Her name is Hope.” 

[cheri-translates]

Gavin’s Official Art Book (Eng Translation)

Credits to @minjee98​ for sending me photos of Gavin’s official art book and requesting this translation!

This post contains details on Gavin’s outfits, items, backgrounds, and interviews with his CN voice actor, the Copywriting Team, Art Team, and Production team.

More: Kiro l Lucien l Black Swan l STF l NPCs l Loveland City

💙 GAVIN’S OUTFITS 💙

[ Leather Jacket ]

Like a gust of wind blowing from a time of youth, coursing through very long years, Gavin appeared before you. An unruly and intractable smile, a relaxed tone, and the corner of his shirt riding up with the wind at the front seat of the motorcycle...

Back then, you wouldn’t have thought that he would be holding onto your hand like this, accompanying you through countless sceneries.

[Note] Something cute is that the word “sceneries” in Chinese is 风景 (“feng jing”), which directly translates to “wind view”

[ Uniform - Jacket Version ]

If it weren’t for Gavin bringing you to the Special Task Force and telling you about the Black Swan organisation, you would have continued living in ignorance.

Shouldn’t you be glad that he was willing to tell you everything? It’s only because of this that you knew you had been protected all along, and could finally stand by his side. 

[ Gavin’s Shirt  ]

If a rainbow is a delight after a rainfall, and two rainbows are a delight of a coincidental destiny, the three rainbows that you and Gavin saw must definitely be a unique miracle.

As long as you’re with him, the two of you can definitely create even more miracles belonging only to the both of you.

[ Shirt and Pants ]

The summer wind, his mildly bashful smile, the white shirt with its slightly rolled up sleeves, and the side profile with the blue coloured roof reflected in his pupils.

There’s no need to specially reminisce that summer day spent coursing through the river of love with Gavin. It’s definitely shimmering brightly in your memories all along, isn’t it?

[ Swimming Attire]

Riding the waves on a surfboard, playing the bass underneath the lights, using a light cough to cover his shyness... These are the most beautiful memories of that year’s summer.

Back then, when you had looked into Gavin’s eyes, did you suddenly feel that your entire life would pass like this?

[ Camo Jacket ] 

On the day of releasing Pearly, the sunlight was warm and bright. A slight wind was blowing up strands of stray hair. Gavin held onto you, the two of you embracing the sunlight and wind.

Do you still remember? Him promising you the rest of his life back then, the bright amber of his eyes, and the answer you had given.

You said that you’d never let go of his hand.

[ Silver Grey Suit ]

You never would have thought the so-called “Meeting the Parents” would be such a nerve-racking thing.

It’s a good thing Gavin donned a well-fitting suit and appeared in time, protecting you from all sorts of tricky questions posed by your relatives. Or else you’d have been disorientated from the questions early on.

[ Swordsman Outfit ]

Which incident left the deepest impression on you during that year’s Qixi Festival? Was it Gavin’s swordsman appearance, his tender gaze under the moonlight, or was it... the sense of suffocation when you found out that his wire was broken?

If prayers truly worked, you would have been willing to make a prayer to the gods and spirits: Please don’t let him be put in danger again.

[ Wedding Attire ]

Although the wedding was just a filming activity, have you ever secretly anticipated it?

That path of fresh flowers the two of you walked along together, those bright and resplendent moments, and that person who had held onto you as you walked forward...

Being with him like this has commenced the true start of your lives. 

[ Black Jacket ]

The first time you spent Valentine’s Day with Gavin, the first time you received an exorbitant gift from him, the first time the two of you drank from the same beverage...

On that day, you experienced so many memorable firsts. And to him, these memories are definitely just as precious.

[ Army Attire ]

The pitch-black uniform and gloves, medals flashing with a cold light, and ice-cold handcuffs... You’ve probably never seen such a Gavin.

But even if he doesn’t recognise you at all, he will continue stopping you from getting involved in danger, and will keep your lost bracelet properly.

No matter what, he has always been a tender person.

[ School Attire ]

He’s already hurt but still has a look of happiness and wants to play basketball - are all boys like that?

Can’t you easily imagine how a young Gavin was definitely the type to lead a bunch of small boys at the front with the broadest smile on his face as they ran towards the basketball court!

-

💙 GAVIN’S ITEMS 💙

Communication device - I carry it on me. It’s indispensable.

Gloves - An accompaniment when on missions. When I’m with you, I'll take them off.

Photograph together - Every moment related to us and worthy of remembering have been properly stored.

Photoshoot pictures - Because it has to do with you, I [ I CAN’T READ HIS HANDWRITING ]

Universe cake - Only you can fulfil my wish.

Astral stone - That was the last time [ I CAN’T READ HIS HANDWRITING ]

Cute hair tie - I’ll only be like this in front of you.

Touchscreen phone -  Don’t bother about the rumours from school. Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell them all to you.

Shampoo - Next time, I’ll help wash your hair again.

Police badge - Memories of you in high school surface in his mind... it was truly a counter of a rebellious youth.

Bullets

Soft pillow

Ginkgo leaves

Letter

Phone keychain

Gavin’s house key

Lavender eye mask

Ginger tea

-

💙 BACKGROUNDS 💙

[ Gavin’s Room ]

Ever since the two of you reunited, life has gradually entered this minimalist-styled room. Without realising it, photographs of the two of you have appeared on the neat and tidy work desk. And the gloves you gave to him have been placed in the most eye-catching spot in the closet.

[ Gavin’s Kitchen ]

The kitchen, which didn’t have a full collection of ingredients, was gradually imbued with the smell of soot. The two of you have made several failed dishes together, but each time, he’ll smile and finish everything. The next time, will the both of you be able to overcome the curse of “dark cuisine” together?

[ Special Task Force Office ]

Here, you found out about the secrets of the Special Task Force, and also found out that the righteousness he has been steadfast in is hard-won. After that, he may never step into this place again. But you definitely trust in the conviction of his words.

[ Castle Steps ]

When he held onto you, walking up that serene spiral staircase, your heart was beating even faster than usual, wasn’t it? Did it stem purely from an anticipation of an unknown scenery, or was it from the unending stream of warmth from his palm?

-

💙 INTERVIEWS 💙

[ Interview with Ah Jie, the voice actor for Gavin ]

“I hope that while he remains steadfast to his convictions, he can live each day happily and optimistically.”

Q1: Teacher Ah Jie, having interacted with Gavin for such a long time, do you have any new insights regarding him?

Ah Jie: Mm, I do, a little. The most obvious thing would be how he has recently returned to his original self. Actually, things related to his mother, and the attitude his father adopts when interacting with him, have to a large extent changed his personality and the way he handles things. I still hope that while he remains steadfast to his convictions, he can live each day happily and optimistically. Love can make one more cheerful and carefree, and it’s pretty good.

-

Q2: Are there any characteristics of Gavin you appreciate a lot?

Ah Jie: I find one thing good about Gavin - the way he strongly perseveres in what he has decided upon. No matter whether it’s in terms of righteousness, his convictions, or feelings - once he decides on it, he’ll move forward without hesitation.

-

Q3: What do you think of Gavin’s Evol?

Ah Jie: I initially wanted to possess it, but... it’s not very useful considering Beijing’s weather. If his Evol was sufficiently powerful, could it blow away the smog? I’ll find a chance to ask him some other day.

-

Q4: Is there anything you’ve always wanted to tell Gavin, but haven’t?

Ah Jie: Even though he isn’t the type who knows how to hold a conversation with girls, he has changed for the better recently, and it’s a very large improvement. However, there’s no need to specially change. I think girls like how he is right now.

-

Q5: Has Teacher Ah Jie recently chanced upon a restaurant which you want to bring Gavin to?

Ah Jie: I recently discovered a very delicious and very spicy place. Next time, I’ll arrange to have supper with him there, haha.

-

[ Interview with the Copywriting Team ]

“He should be free and unfettered.”

Q1: The storyline of the game has several science fiction elements. What made you consider including science fiction elements in a game targeted at females?

Actually, we felt that romance is often underestimated. Love isn’t simply effete language without substance, or honeyed words. Love can give us courage, and bring us to a whole new world, opening new journeys, finding your unlimited self. A romance story is naturally appropriate to be melded with any other motifs. In love, we can explore various issues: personal growth, contradictions in society, the truth of civilisation, the rise and fall of history...  The story we wish to convey to the players is one of “the cruel competition between love and power”. This isn’t just a complex story with science fiction elements. Actually, it’s also very related to the lives of every person.

-

Q2: As an Evol agent, does Gavin work 365 without rest?

No, but he has to be prepared to accept sudden missions.

-

Q3: Why couldn’t Gavin keep Greenie alive?

He watered it too much.

-

Q4: If he uses his Evol, what’s the highest point Gavin can reach through flight?

As long as he wants to, he can fly as high as he wants.

-

Q5: Does Gavin really like eating noodles?

It’s not to the extent of "really liking” it. it’s just that he finds it convenient.

-

Q6: When deciding on Gavin’s Evol, were there any special considerations?

We felt that he should be free and unfettered, just like... a gust of free and easy wind.

-

Q7: In the process of interacting, does Gavin have any difficult-to-spot “moe points”?

His slightly clumsy way of expressing his care and consideration. For instance, asking “Were you happy to ride it once more” after taking the Ferris wheel.

-

Q8: In the 2018 Qixi Festival event, Gavin’s ancient garb left a deep impression on people. Why did you design Gavin this way?

A swordsman who comes and goes without a trace. A swordsman who can rush to the skies even after falling off a cliff.

-

Q9: Is Gavin a dog or a cat person?

Dog.

-

Q10: What do you think is Gavin’s most classic line? How did you think of it?

“As long as you’re in the wind, I can sense you.”

It just came out very naturally in the plot - that Gavin would say something like that.

-

Q11: In relation to Gavin, are there any scenes that you’ve always wanted to write but haven’t fulfilled yet?

More scenes imbued with the feeling of a youthful romance. For instance, kissing at the rooftop staircase. I hope it can be arranged soon.

-

[ Interview with the Art Team ]

“Your photograph must be placed even on the workbench of the secret base!”

Q1: In relation to the various scenes in Loveland City, are there are any real life references?

The answer to this question has already been discovered by some meticulous players. We have indeed made references to a few real sceneries, such as the The Bund.

We want to give players the sense that the romance is happening right next to them, which is why we’ve brought our city’s scenery into the game, so everyone can feel a sense of familiarity and realism.

-

Q2: Art Sisters, what you think of the “Papergames Art Style” as coined by players? What is the biggest difference between the art style in Mr Love Queen’s Choice and other games by Papergames?

Actually, we don’t really understand the meaning of “Papergames Art Style”, and we don’t know what it means specifically. It probably refers to how the tone and atmosphere are more clear and romantic? Even our own department finds that the art styles from different games are very different. In making a comparison, Mr Love Queen’s Choice is much “harder” (laughs). After all, our main characters are four adult men. Right now, the style is basically “hard but not coarse” - there are parts which require meticulousness and delicateness, yet can’t be too soft.

-

Q3: Have you ever considered changing Gavin’s hairstyle, for instance giving him a crew cut?

Based on his personality, he might have thought about it. After all, a crew cut is very convenient. But come to think of it, does everyone really want to see him with a crew cut?

-

Q4: Where does Gavin typically buy his clothes? Online or in the shopping mall?

When he thinks it’s about time to buy clothes, he’ll find time to go to the mall. Occasionally, he buys them online.

-

Q5: How many different scars does Gavin have on his body?

There are some especially obvious scars on his collarbone and back. There are many other non-obvious ones in other places.

-

Q6: Why is there such a big difference between Gavin’s initial design and the final design? Initially, why did you give him that somewhat “smart” hairstyle?

Actually, we tried out many different types of hairstyles in the beginning. Then, we selected the one which was most suitable, and then refined it. The “smart” hairstyle was just one of many.

-

Q7: How many different outfits does Gavin have currently?

It’s difficult to say. After all, he does keep buying new clothes. A guy’s closet is the same as a woman’s - forever missing one shirt, a pair of pants, a pair of shoes, a watch...

-

Q8: Flowers appear frequently in the game. Could I ask the Art Team which flower best suits Gavin?

White lilac.

-

Q9: When it comes to Gavin’s home decor, what do the Art Sisters find the most special?

What’s special lies in “the warmth only you know about”.

Although the monochrome colours appear cold and cool, the details reveal the dribs and drabs of your lives: Outside the windows, you can see ginkgo trees which a harbour special meaning to the two of you. Atop the shelf in front of the window sits the strong “Greenie No. N+1″. Your photograph must be placed even on the workbench of the secret base!

-

Q10: What’s most difficult to grasp about Gavin?

The ahoge on Gavin’s head should point in the opposite direction of the wind.

-

[ Interview with the Production Team ]

“He gives people a sense of security, like the ‘Ah Sir’ in Hong Kong films!”

Q1: Why did you produce a game like “Love and Producer”?

Producers: Since 2015, our company has already started producing this game. As a mobile game with romance at its core, it’s something not many companies have tried before. The company had a lot of discussions on the possibility of it. In the end, we decided to do it, and the reason for making constant iterations, updates, and persevering after three years is especially simple. No matter what age you are, no matter whether you’ve dated before, no matter whether you're married and have your own family, we believe that in every woman’s heart, there remains an anticipation for romance and heart-stirring experiences. Which is why we believe “Love and Producer” has a reason for its existence. This belief has always guided our production and operation process, and we hope we can continuously bring even more beautiful romance experiences to everyone in the future.

-

Q2: Where did the name of the game “Love and Producer” come from?

Producers: I don’t know if anyone remembers that in the very beginning, our tagline on the official website has always been “Love and dreams need to meet their match.” Why is this game called “Love and Producer”? That’s because the link between you and him not only encompasses the narrow scope of love, but also permeates into to your life journey together.

-

Q3: Are there any deeply hidden “Easter eggs”? Could you disclose them to us?

Producers: They aren’t really that hidden, but there are indeed some “Easter eggs” which should have already been discovered by some players. For instance, you can see a certain poster during City Strolls. In “Go See Him”, the coupling of certain outfits and sceneries could bring out a few hidden lines. We welcome everyone to give it a try.

-

Q4: If you were to catch criminals together with Gavin, how could you help him?

Producers: After much thought, we might only be bait...

-

Q5: What do the people in the Production team call Gavin?

Producers: Gavin, Old Gav, Lil Gav, Bro Gav.

-

Q6: How do the males in the production team view Gavin?

Producers: An envoy of righteousness, he gives people a sense of security, like the ‘Ah Sir’ in Hong Kong films!”. But sometimes, he’s like Andy Chan.

-

Q7: If you had Gavin’s Evol, what would you use it for?

Producers: Of course, I'll go for a flight!

-

Q8: If there comes a day when you can be as fearless as Gavin, what would you want to do most?

Producers: Serve... serve the motherland?

-

Q9: Lastly, do you have anything to say to the players?

Producers: This interaction between the Production Team and the players is already sufficient enough to cherish. The world we created has only become perfect because of your participation. Our days alongside Loveland City have already become an important stamp in our lives. This world is still constantly becoming richer and broader. Kindly look forward to it!

[arent-you-scared-lil-human]

Bølger (2)

Merman!Kae x Reader.

Words: 3,183

bølger means waves.

Chapter 1.

Merfolk were almost divine to your eyes, living near the coast gave you the blessing of discovering these amazing creatures, well, or the thought of actually seeing them. 

You were 7 when your mother gave your guard to your aunt Betty, your mom grew sick and she wanted to be sure you would be cared for when she passed. But it took her cancer to reach stage 4 to allow you to live with Betty. 

The thing was, your mother hated the coast, the town, and the ocean.

When Betty went to visit you, she would take small cards with fairies, merfolk, werewolves painted on it. She would tell you to believe in magic and accept that we aren't alone on the big blue planet.

Which made your mother mad because she hated the mere idea of mermaids, so much that the little mermaid movie was never allowed. But she had to swallow her revulsion to be sure you would be cared for and not thrown on the orphanage in the end.

So you went to live on Walrey Coast with your aunt. She was a good woman, a bit light-headed but good nonetheless. She taught you how to cook, even though you hated it, taught you how to work in her small restaurant and how to read and love Julio Verne's work. 

The house was small but notably comfy and colorful, each room had a color and somehow it didn't get overwhelming. Your bedroom had fairies painted on the walls, and a lamp with a mermaid painted in gold.

But you never saw a mermaid or a merman in your life.

And since your city was a small place each person ended up knowing another.  You were homeschooled till your 11, but Antony -your aunt friend- told that his nephews were your age and that his sister could teach you too.

Antony's nephews were three, a girl called Hope, and two boys, Archie and Hunter. Hope and Archie were twins, and Hunter was a year younger but their mom taught them the things at the same time so they could always be together if they ever went to a "normal" school.

So, with your 20's and seeing Archie leaving the town to persuade his dream university made you happy, but sad in seeing Carla's tears, after all, she always wanted her kids together.

"C'mon, Y/N, I consider you like a daughter so let us re-form your brother's bedroom..." Carla tried to smile through her tears, Hunter hugged you and Hope rolled her eyes at her brother's trial of reaching your interest, the poor boy has been crushing over you for 6 years already.

You kept your routine of woking at your aunty Betty restaurant, Antony tried to coax you to leave town and go to uni -as every elderly person tries to tell us to-; But something held you in Walrey Coast, maybe it was the trauma of the last time that you left your home was due to a loved one passing, or maybe Betty being abandoned in her big picturesque house... or who knows, perhaps something else, something unseen, or forgotten.

Hope didn't want to go to university, she craved to open an auto-shop, Carla said she didn't mind, but everyone knew deep down she wanted her small girl to be the perfect wife-to-be. And Hunter wanted to become a biologist, the boy adored the sea more than the air he inhaled and after years and years of Antony pulling his ear telling him that the idea of being a professional surfer was as idiotic as his hair, he swallowed down and picked another profession that connected the sea, too.

You loved them, and the town, but you were lonely. You had your first kiss, and even that you studied in "not a homeschool but it was basically one" you knew the other people in town, the men in their 20's that lived near and also the visitors that came and go. And working in the restaurant you saw lots of people, soldiers, biologists, families, even sailors, travelers, wanderers, et cetera. 

So you had your 'first times' but nothing serious, and even that Hunter tried several times to date you, you couldn't see him farther than a brother. He was attractive, smart, polite, liked animals as you do but he was... a brother. Through and through.

So your life was based around this minimalist and simple presence. Waking up, helping Betty at home, go to the restaurant, visit Carla and your dear friends, go back to the restaurant, sit in the pier where Antony lived while you ate your dinner looking at the sea, go home, shower and sleep.

Antony tried to make you go swimming or try to surf with Hunter, but you were terrified of the ocean, you loved it, it was fascinating and very very beautiful, but scary.

Dangerous.

Yet, gazing at it brought you a level of peace that couldn't be accomplished in any other form.

So finishing your meal and making sure to set any trash inside a bag so you could throw in the trashcan later, you stood up and gave one last look at the dark waters and went home.

Deep in the waves, stood Kae, gazing at you leaving your favorite spot in the docks, each day you went there and in each one he approached the surface to make you company, a silent one.

Sometimes you hummed a song, one that of course he had not heard before. And sometimes you would put music to play in a small black device he saw humans carrying around all the time, the music was a mixture, but he enjoyed them, and loved when you sang along.

Merfolk took singing into high consideration, it was important to lull food, to find a good partner, to... well, everything!

And he hummed back with you, but he knew you didn't hear him. You didn't remember him.

It was funny how different worlds that co-existed, should know about another, should collide.

Humans are evil, everyone says. But what Eros did with you wasn't it? Hurting an innocent cub, or better saying: a child, and bringing your unconscious body as a trophy was the most repugnant thing he ever witnessed. After that episode years prior, Kae never glanced at his cousin in the same way, Eros was still family, but he wasn't the good merman Kae thought he was.

And with their adult forms and getting the spot of protectors of the ocean society, the mating season was approaching. 

Jaxi was in love with a mermaid that was from oceans away, they found each other in a hunt for food and after that, they've been planning their wedding ever since. Melin grew to be an insatiable lover, the mating season was an open feast to him, especially since it didn't involve a mandatory loyalty. Eros had the most beautiful sea creatures he could find, he was handsome and strong, but he was a player, which wasn't so shocking.

And Kae had some encounters, had his first sex in his 16's but he didn't like the notion of marrying and being away from the bare soil, away from his little friend that didn't even remember his existence.

He wonders if you still have Eros's nails wounds scarred in your skin, or maybe you healed after he rolled the algae around it? The alkaline water helped sea beings to heal and regenerate their skin, maybe oxygen did it too to humans? And if it hasn't healed, have you ever questioned the origin of it?

Kae didn't see himself as a stalker, he was more of a curious merman. And after leaving you in the waves near the sand, he has been reaching the surface searching for you. Ecthelion realized his peculiar interest in you, so he at least told Kae that his human friend, Antony, has told him that you were alive and well. And that the human's healers said you declared that you floated too deep in the ocean and the waves took you away.

Only that.

And as much that was a relief to hear you didn't remember the evilness Eros committed, Kae was still disappointed that you wouldn't remember him, or Jaxi and Melin that were also very much curious about human's anatomy and helped to save your life.

He wanted to talk to you, to see how different you are, would it be shocking for you to see him? Would you run away seeing his different form? He was very pretty, and one of the most desired young merman between the merfolk, but their physiology are different for various reasons. Maybe you wouldn't think he is pretty, his monster form would push you away. Scare you.

               ...

Hunter lost his mind, inviting you to go surfing? Insane.

"You know I'm afraid of the sea,  Hunter!" You told him and your friend only shrugged.

"Y/N, i know but we can try. There won't be big tides today, and I'm an expert at it."

His sad voice made you feel bad, you loved him dearly but couldn't answer his romantic feelings. "Is just... we are not kids anymore and with our brother away and Hope getting you away for 'girls night i barely have time with you. And i don't want to be an asshole, i swear, but that accident that happened years ago was an accident. You were a kid and now you're all grown."

Yu chuckled and hit his shoulder slightly. "All of this only to convince me to go with you?"

He narrowed his eyes and gave you a shy smile. '"Only if you say it worked."

"It did. But! If the waves get too big or anything we will come back, alright? Don't try to prove a point."

"And which point would that be?" He seemed offended.

"That you know how to suffer."

"Right, I won't do anything stupid."

                       ...

Carrying Hope's board firmly you questioned if the straight material could hurt your palms. "Come on." Hope yelled cheering you up, she agreed with Hunter that it would be good for you to test the waters. Being afraid of it was a dangerous thing.

Hunter extended his hand while his other one was carrying the board under his arm. "Trust me?"

"Yeah, but please if I want to come back help me."

"Don't worry."

You held his hand and walked to the waters, Hope clapped her hands a couple of times yelling "you got it" to give you motivation.

It was a pretty day, the sun was out but it wasn't awfully warm Some seagulls flew through the skies and you admired the blue water touching your skin.

The water wasn't cold, and so far no big waves came and snatched your nor Hunter's life.

"Now in the way we tried back there." Hunter held the surfboard you were firmly grasping and helped you to jump on it. He did the same on his and held your hand looking at you with nothing but honesty.

You laid your chest on the board and moved your arms in the water to push you a bit far from the sand. Hunter was smiling, he adored the ocean and adored you so he was very happy.

A small wave came and you looked at him. "Hunt!"

He didn't tell you to go, he gave you a tiny nod and told you the two of you could swim around until you felt more relaxed.

After some minutes you tried to surf in a tide, it was small, amen for that, and Hunter seemed proud. He went to the bigger ones and even when he fell in the salty water he would emerge smiling and laughing.

Hope entered the water too and swam around, you never swam with your friends before.

Some minutes passed and you lost your fear from the ocean, the salty water, the rays of sun, Hunter's smile and Hope's laugh was a blessing and you wondered why you never gave Hunter a chance when he asked you to surf with him since you two were 12.

A medium-wave came in, and you told them you would try. Hunter has surfed and tides four times bigger so he was secure you wouldn't get hurt.

You moved your arms in the water to push you near the growing wave, you managed to feel it moving the surfboard, and you got on your feet and yelled in euphoria when your body kept firm above it. It was amazing, a sensation of pure joy.

The adrenaline, the beauty on it.

Hope and Hunter were cheering you up, and you smiled at then before noting a big movement near the tide, head got out of the ocean and the creature knocked your breath out of your lungs.

Was it... a mermaid? Well, better saying a merman?

"What?" You lost balance and fell into the water, the string holding the surfboard to your ankle made a pressuring pull and you whimpered at the pressure. You shut your eyes as the salty water burned your eyes but soon your foot was realized from the surfboard-pull.

You opened your eyes terrified that you lost the board because you were being dragged further in, but you saw something, someone. 

The strong features, the gills on his neck, the floating long hair... the tail. 

"Y/N!" Hope yelled. "Where are-", "Y/N!" Hunter yelled too.

He swam to you and leaned in, you got terrified, the water was burning your eyes, the lack of oxygen making you anxious and this creature was placing his hands on your cheeks. The cold hands made you stare at him but he only leaned in to kiss your forehead and then your nose. 

Hope's and Hunter's yells going deaf to your ears. You could only stare at the merman.

Before you could do anything else he smiled and touched your feet pushing you up to find oxygen.

You broke out of the surface and coughed as Hunter pulled your body to his chest. "Jesus Christ! You scared me." He said and kissed your forehead over and over making sure you were alive under his touch.

Hunter's kisses were gentle, urgent, and you enjoyed them, but it wasnt like the creature's touch. 

The monster's touch that could certainly snap your neck in a fraction of seconds, but the same touch that made your heart beat faster a moment prior.

And when he held your feet... you thought he would pull you in, to kill and eat you.

No.

He launched you up, assisting you, freeing you!

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have brought you." Hunter cried and you leaned in his touch, holding his neck and looking over his shoulder seeing familiar eyes gazing at you miles away in the water.

                       ...

Sitting in Hope's bed and having her blow-drying your hair, you told Hunter for the 45° time that you were okay and wasn't his fault. He gave you a cup of hot chocolate and checked your fingertips again searching for any hint of extremity cyanosis. He was terrified of losing you, shit, he even argued with Hope when he told her he wanted to help you to take a shower. And even if crushing on you, his intentions weren't sexual, he only wanted to be sure you were warmed up.

"It's okay, it was my fault. I thought I saw something. I got distracted."

Hope brushed your dry hair and you held Hunter's big sweater closer to your chest, he was taller than you so his clothes were the most comfortable. "Hope, i'm sorry for-"

"No no, it's okay. The thing was old anyway." She hugged you from behind and assured you it was okay the loss of her surfboard. "But i wonder how the safe-string got out of your ankle."

You remembered the pressure the string was making, remember the relief it was when it was snapped away from you... the merman did it.

"I don't know either." You lied and tried to get up, only to have them push you back in Hope's bed and ordering you to rest.

Hunter called your aunt to tell her it was all okay and that you would have a sleepover.

You fell asleep, dreaming of waves and gentle touches.

                         ...

Waking up you looked at the covers and searched for a clock to see how long you've slept. It was 2 AM and Hope was passed out, you gently got up from the bed and grasped a pair of Hope's boots.

You got off the stairs and unlocked the door discreetly before closing it behind you.

You walked to the docks and sat in your dining-spot. The vision of the water moving slowly under the stars always eased your thoughts. 

Yes, you consumed a bit of seawater but you didn't imagine what you saw. "Hey, uh, thank you for saving me." You spoke, feeling stupid and looking over your shoulders to be sure no one was near to listen to your nonsense.

"I... nearly drowned and if it wasn't you... I... Fuck!" You swore under your breath. The quietness of Walrey Coast at the dark night was comforting, silence was everything, it meant peace.

Holding your legs together and leaning your head on your knee, tears formed in your eyes. You missed Archie, you felt bad for making Hunter so worried, for destroying Hope's surfboard, the silence that engulfed you, and the thought of going crazy.

As tears drop reached the water, Kae got the courage to break out of the surface. He cursed himself so much earlier on, he should have reached you, if you haven't seen him you wouldn’t fall. So saving you was nothing less than his obligation. 

And touching you... well, that's another story. He couldn't help himself, you were so soft, so grown and stunning. Watching you from afar was something, but perceiving you centimeters away was enchanting.

With your eyes closed, you moaned a song that you loved, and even that the music spoke about heartbreak and a lost lover... it was beautiful.

Stopping to hum while you cleaned your nose, you opened your eyes startled when the song kept resounding,

Widening your eyes you looked at the water and placed your hands on your mouth to avoid a scream to leave your mouth.

There he was, the same thing that saved you.

"Hm, hi-hi!" You gagged.

Kae looked down at his torso, he hated how the human guy held you in his arms early on. His chest was free of hard skin, freed of scales, his skin color was near yours... it wasn't pale as his.

"Maybe you don't speak my language, I, uh actually I'm sort of believing i'm dreaming. My name is Y/N."

The smile on your features was all he could see, the previous shriek apparently wasn't from his ugly self. But surprise, or so he hoped.

"I know," His stark tone of voice made you gasp, he spoke! He could speak, and your language! "Hi, little human."

                       🧜🏻‍♂️

[dc41896]

Winter Wonderland

Pairing: Ransom DrysdalexBlack Reader

⚠️: Ransom being a tiny bit of a jerk, the usual fluff

Sat on the couch comfortably wrapped in your boyfriend’s burnt orange throw blanket, your eyes stay glued to the meteorologist pointing to the map on the wide screen in front of you as you mindlessly bite your thumbnail.

“This again?,” Ransom asks returning from his shower to sit next to you. Forest green tee shirt over his black sweatpants, the scent of sandalwood wafting off his skin brings you closer eventually resting your head on his shoulder while you silently take in a couple deep breaths to savor the smell. “What, are you trying to be a weatherwoman now or something?”

“No, I’m just trying to stay updated. You know, watching to see if it’ll maybe rain or snow...”

Moving his laptop from the glass coffee table to his lap, soon his fingers tap away at the keyboard below as he tries to answer emails he missed while being away with you and your family for Thanksgiving.

“Hopefully it doesn’t. I’ve got too much to do for the power to be turning off.”

“...It would be nice to see though you know?”

“Mm,” he simply replies, mind still comprehending the email from his assistant with his schedule for the upcoming month.

“Snow covering the ground perfect to make snow angels or a snowman with a cute little scarf and carrot nose. Ooh and maybe a snowball fight-!”

“You sound like a kid who’s never seen snow before,” he chuckles. Noticing your extended silence, he sits up meeting your innocent eyes as you play with one of the tassels from the blanket. “You’ve never seen snow, have you?”

“I mean yeah in movies and pictures, but never in person. Remember, it doesn’t really get that cold where I live.”

Only four months in, your relationship was still fairly new. And most of that time he was flying to see you, which was slightly concerning at first. Once he told you about his dysfunctional family though, and you briefly heard it firsthand, it made sense why he wanted to get as far away as possible.

It was just a small mistake when some of his business documents were sent to his parents’ house, but of course they assumed it was his sly way of asking for money. Not even giving him a chance to explain, a shouting match soon ensued and hence why Thanksgiving was spent with your parents.

He still wanted you to come visit to show you his home, where he grew up, and some of his favorite places especially since you showed him yours. He’d just have to be extra careful to avoid any of his family members or those who worked at his grandfather’s home if the two of you went to town.

So far though, you two didn’t have to worry since you’d either been happily snuggled on the couch or in bed since you arrived.

“Well, it’s more of a pain than anything. You need the right tires to drive on the road and even then you have to worry about them being too slick. Then sometimes the snow is like mush that basically starts melting as soon as it falls, and don’t even get me started on the shoveling,” he rants as the small smile on your face slightly falls.

“Yea I’ve uh heard that it’s not so great once you get used to it,” you respond turning the channel to some random movie before handing him the remote. “Looks like it’s not gonna snow anyway though so no worries.”

“Good, I’ll be able to make all of my meetings then.”

As you sat in silence, Ransom could feel that you were disappointed about the sunny and clear forecast. He still stood by all the negative things he said earlier, but he also remembered how excited he’d get as a kid once it started to get colder. That meant snow would eventually come, bringing snow days from school and playing all day in the backyard. That is until his mother would yell at him from the back door not to mess up his clothes or send the nanny out to get him if she felt he wasn’t listening.

Hearing your soft snores, he carefully removes his phone from his pocket, moving his typing from his laptop to the smaller device in his hand as he sends a quick text to someone who might be able to help.

———

The soft chime of your alarm from the bedside table causes you to mentally groan as you reach to silence it before it could disturb Ransom. However feeling his arm tighten around your waist bringing you closer to his bare chest, you could see you were too late.

“Sorry babe. Go back to sleep, you still have time before your meeting,” you whisper.

“No,” he mumbles, face falling to the crook of your neck making you giggle from the sensation of his breathing paired with his pouted lips against your skin.

“Can you let go then? I have to log in for work.” Shaking his head, you roll your eyes at how clingy he could be under that tough, careless facade. “Ransom come on it’s my last workday before Christmas so I can’t call out. As soon as I’m done though you can have me all to yourself okay?”

His only response is silence as you try to escape his grip thinking he drifted back to sleep. You’re slightly startled as your body is turned to face your boyfriend with his eyes still closed and a tired yet playful smirk gracing his lips.

“I already took care of work for you,” he replies opening one eye while the other stayed pressed against the plush pillow.

“What do you mean?”

“That you don’t need to worry about work until the new year.”

“How? You just told my boss I wouldn’t be in for a while and she said okay?”

“Well darling as you know I can be very persuasive,” he cockily states with a wink. Sitting up with arms crossed over your chest, he chuckles at your unamused expression sitting up himself to lean against the headboard. “I told her how I had a secret trip planned for us and asked if you could be out until you were due to be back in January. She said you had the time so it was okay and for us to have fun. If you don’t believe me call her yourself.”

“How long have you had this planned? And where is this secret trip too?,” you finally speak trusting his words.

“A while now, and it wouldn’t be a secret anymore if I told you dear.”

“Then how am I supposed to pack for said trip honey?,” you ask matching his sarcasm.

“Already took care of that too. All you have to do is get ready so we can leave in a couple hours,” he smiles gently grabbing your chin to kiss your lips. “Unless you want to go to work then-,”

“No, I’ll get dressed!” Giving him one last peck as you crawl over his relaxed form, he chuckles watching you excitedly hurry to the bathroom to start your morning routine.

After both of you were dressed and Ransom placed your packed bags in the trunk of his newly rented Range Rover, his hand stops you from entering the passenger side slightly confusing you.

“It’s a surprise remember?,” he smirks pulling a black blind fold out of his jacket pocket.

“You know, this is how a handful of those lifetime movies start before the main character goes missing and her family then sets out to find the boyfriend even though he swears he’s innocent,” you state making him deeply chuckle as he finishes tying the cloth over your eyes.

“Relax, you’re fine. Plus how do I know this isn’t like those movies where the gorgeous girlfriend acts all innocent and sweet until she gets her boyfriend away so she can kill him and take all his stuff before moving on to her next victim?”

“Touché. I guess we’re gonna have to trust each other then.”

“I guess so,” he laughs kissing your cheek before carefully helping you in your seat and closing the door behind you. The drive there didn’t seem too long as you and Ransom talked about everything from each of your favorite vacations over the years to his new book ideas and what was soon to be published under his company. Of course you tried to get him to slip and say where you were going and what he had planned, but his lips remained sealed.

Every time you asked, he’d just chuckle telling you to be patient before kissing the back of your hand.

Soon enough your questions would be answered as the car slowed while it turned maintaining the same speed until coming to a complete stop. “Are we there? Can I take off the blindfold now?,” you excitedly ask.

“Go ahead before you bounce a hole in the seat.”

Removing the cloth, you blink your eyes adjusting to the brightness of the remaining daylight outside before they can focus on what was exactly in front of you. Dark brown wooden outside with a blue green roof and stone chimney, the modern looking cabin with wrap around porch peering into the surrounding woods on one side and the calm lake on the other.

“I hope your silence isn’t because you’re currently regretting coming with me,” he speaks peering at you with soft crystal blue eyes. Leaning over the middle console, your hand finds the back of his neck bringing him closer to connect your lips with his.

“It’s beautiful! The perfect Christmas getaway,” you smile.

“Well not perfect yet. This is just part one of your surprise.”

“Ransom, you don’t-,”

“I know, I don’t have to. As you see though, we’re here so are we gonna sit in the car and stare at it or go inside?,” he smirks before getting out to open your door.

You weren’t surprised to find the inside just as charming as it’s outside view. The modern, minimalistic aesthetic along with high vaulted ceiling and open concept made it seem as if there was no end in sight for the cozy cabin. From it’s overall inviting warmth enveloping you as soon as the both of you crossed the threshold, you weren’t sure if your boyfriend, or anyone, would get you to leave when the time eventually came.

Once settled and full of dinner made from what was in the fully stocked fridge and freezer, courtesy of his assistant, you could feel the day’s toll finally weighing on you as multiple yawns escaped your mouth and eyelids began to droop.

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet, you still have your last surprise to see,” he chuckles gently nudging your arm.

“Ransom seriously everything has been more than enough. What else could you possibly have planned?,” you sleepily smile peering up at him through partially opened lids. Gently pulling you up with him, he guides you to the porch with muscular, sweater covered arms wrapped on your chest just under your neck. He places a kiss on the top of your head as you lean back into his broad chest admiring the bright crescent moon along with the shimmering stars scattered behind it in the black sky.

“Although I do love gazing at the moon with you, and think this is a really nice surprise, it’s getting cold,” you speak feeling the vibrations of his quiet laugh through his chest.

“You really need to work on your patience dear,” he whispers, lips resting next to your ear. Watching the breath from your nose turn to smoke, you soon see something fall from above making you slightly lean forward to see if your eyes were deceiving you. Sure enough, a similar white speck descended with a small swirl as you gently gripped Ransom’s arm gasping. As more and more fell, you reach out over the banister feeling bits of cold ice touch your palm before melting into miniature puddles.

“Is this real?!”

“No, there’s a man on the roof with a wind machine. Yes, it’s real honey,” he chuckles kissing your cold cheek.

“But the forecast said there was none coming.”

“Yea for where we were. That’s why I brought you a bit further north where it usually snows around this time of year. Luckily it still happened or else everything would’ve been ruined.”

Turning to face him, your arms wrap around his neck as you reach on your tip toes to deeply kiss his lips. You prop your chin on his chest, adoringly looking up at your boyfriend with a soft smile.

“Yea no snow would’ve been a bit of a bummer, but everything would still be wonderful because I’m here with you.”

“Stop you’re gonna make me blush,” he dismisses with a dramatic wave making you giggle.

For the next few moments, you both comfortably stand in each other’s arms with your head now lying on his chest gazing at the steady falling flurries, and Ransom doing the same finding himself truly happy to see snow for the first time in a long while.

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[duchess-of-mandalore]

The Fragility of Noble Flaws

Obitine, Anidala, Anakin & Satine, Anakin & Obi-Wan

Prompt: Anakin travels to Mandalore to tell Satine that Obi-Wan’s alive (mid-Rako Hardeen arc)

This started out as a writing exercise: I gave myself 500 words to write a ficlet exploring Anakin and Satine's dynamic together, since we see so little of them together on the show.

I failed the exercise and ended up with a 5,000 word exploration of the bond they share through their love of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Oh, well! You can't succeed at everything!!

---

Duchess Satine wasn't expecting him. They were acquaintances, but not friends. Not really. He didn't have to reveal anything to her. He was taking a risk in coming to Mandalore, and she would find out the truth soon enough. Along with the rest of the galaxy. But in spite of his orders, and in spite of the fact that it felt so perversely good to defy the Council after the stunt that they'd pulled, Anakin Skywalker knew he was doing the right thing. There was perhaps no one else in the galaxy who more deserved to know that Obi-Wan Kenobi was still alive.

He probably could have found a secure holo-terminal and contacted her that way. It would have beat the long trip to the Outer Rim, but Anakin felt this news should be given in person.

When he'd arrived, it was already evening in Sundari. Perhaps it wasn't proper protocol – Anakin wasn't really in the mood to care – but he went straight to the throne room, where he was informed by the palace guard that the Duchess had already retired for the evening with orders not to be disturbed.

"Contact her anyway," Anakin said bluntly, already annoyed that the guard had insisted on taking his lightsaber. "She will want to know what I have to say."

"Sir, that is quite impossible. But I can show you to a guest room tonight and you will be granted an audience with her grace tomorrow."

Anxious irritation swirled in Anakin's gut, as if a Rishi eel were writhing inside and trying to get out. He wouldn't wait. He waved his hand in front of the guard's face. "You will tell Duchess Satine that I am here now."

"I will tell Duchess Satine that you are here now," the guard intoned. He turned obediently, and Anakin shoved down the flare of satisfaction that came from being able to so easily direct others. Obi-Wan would have chastised him for that if he were here. It wasn't becoming of a Jedi to relish wielding power over others, even in relatively benign matters.

But Obi-Wan wasn't here.

That was the point.

Anger blazed in Anakin, and for a few indulgent seconds, he made no move to tamp it down.

Eventually though, he breathed deeply, trying to think of other matters. He would be meeting with the Duchess, and she didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of his own emotions. He turned in a circle to stare around the throne room. It'd been nearly two years since he'd last seen the impressively vaulted space. That was when he'd arrived to escort the Duchess and her neutral allies to Coruscant, and at the time, the room had shimmered gloriously, gently diffused light streaming through the windows. Or were they technically walls when they made up almost the entire building? In any case, the artificial sunlight had bounced around the space, bathing everything in a hazy, peaceful ambiance while also creating a steely warmth that bespoke the purposeful actions that took place in this room. When Anakin had met Duchess Satine, he had felt it a perfect reflection of the woman herself.

But now, the lighting of the domed city had dimmed for the night. The transparisteel no longer reflected light back in on itself. Instead, Anakin could see directly out into the sea of buildings that surrounded the palace. Except for the pinpricks of light from certain windows, the darkness of the city stretched in every direction. Literally every direction, Anakin thought, starring down at the transparent floor beneath him. It was like being suspended in space . . . adrift in cold, unyielding nothingness. Anakin Skywalker was an accomplished pilot and was no stranger to such a feeling. He'd never panic in such a situation. But this was different. Standing in the darkened Mandalorian throne room, he felt utterly exposed.

Fragile.

Breakable.

Footsteps echoing around the vast cavern brought Anakin back, and he centered himself as the armored guard reentered the throne room.

"The Duchess will see you now." He sounded a little flustered, and Anakin wondered if he'd been given him a tongue-lashing for disturbing her. Anakin smirked and followed the guard; he didn't know Satine well, but it was obvious she was a force to be reckoned with.

It was obvious when they reached the Duchess's personal spaces, and not just because of the guard standing sentry outside the door. The corridors – made of actual walls, not transparisteel – were narrower, the ceilings far lower than the more public areas. Less exposed. Anakin was grateful for that.

The guard who directed Anakin motioned to the other to stand aside. He waved his hand in front of the panel and the door swished open. "The Duchess will be with you shortly," he said as Anakin stepped inside.

Even with Mandalore's minimalistic tendencies, Anakin thought Satine's apartment was uncharacteristically subdued for a planetary leader . . . or maybe it only seemed so in light of his wife's own love of the ornate. This wing of rooms still exhibited the same simplistic feel that characterized Sundari more generally, but it felt cozy nonetheless. Floor to ceiling windows overlooked the city on one side, but heavy brocade curtains stood ready to block out even that view when greater privacy was desired. The furniture – all in the blue and silver color scheme of Clan Kryze – was sleek and unembellished, save for the soft wool throw thrown over the sofa. A tea service cart sat along one dark blue wall, kettle heating on a burner. Several vases of Mandalorian peace lilies sat along the walls as well, which were empty save for one surprisingly informal portrait of the duchess and a red-haired boy. Anakin remembered him from the time he dropped Ahsoka off – the boy from a pacifist system who'd been enamored with Ahsoka's Jedi lightsaber. So that must have been Korkie, Satine's nephew. But the eyes . . .

"Master Skywalker." Duchess Satine's crisp voice broke Anakin's gaze away from the portrait. Satine had entered from what looked like a bedchamber, clad in a white nightdress covered by a blue dressing gown. Her blonde hair had been haphazardly pinned back, but her demeanor was every bit as regal as every other time Anakin had seen her. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Her voice was diplomatic, but with an unmistakable edge to it. He bowed low. "Hardly a pleasure, your grace. I know you asked not to be disturbed."

See, he could be diplomatic when the situation called for it. Or maybe it was that this woman had a strange effect on him. In spite of the informal setting, she compelled a formality Anakin didn't grant to just anyone. And yet, there was a warmth about Duchess Kryze as well, one that said that every conversation she had was personal, not simply a mere formality.  He was awed by her ethereal regality in a way that reminded him of that fateful day when his very own angel had walked into his life.

She nodded once, and Anakin knew that he'd been absolved of his trespassing. Her next comment held a lighter tone. "I assumed you wouldn't have barged into my palace if it weren't something important." She gestured toward a narrow armchair before taking a seat on the sofa. "Though I am curious as to why the Council didn't simply call, as they usually do."

Anakin sat on the edge of the chair and grimaced. "Well, my lady . . . your grace," he stammered. "They wouldn't have, because . . . they don't know that I'm here."

"This isn't a Council matter?"

"Oh, no. This is definitely a Council matter," he said, before continuing pointedly, "but the reason I'm here . . . that's a personal one."

"Oh?"

"Yes, in fact–" Anakin rubbed his neck, suddenly self-conscience about the whole situation– "what I'm about to tell you is something that you can't tell anyone else. Especially not the Council."

The duchess's brow furrowed in apprehensive confusion as she stared at him directly. "Master Jedi – please – tell me what you came to say."

Anakin breathed. "Obi-Wan's alive."

Continue reading on Ao3

[unsteadygalaxy]

all is soft inside chapter 12

a miragehound multichapter fanfiction

Also posted on Ao3, my username is the same there!

previous | next

12. give me a piece of your heart

A quick note: I have the Pathfinder's Quest book and I finished it today (Feb 2nd 2021)! It was mind-blowing and amazing and SO, SO GOOD. Unfortunately, this fic can no longer fit into canon because of what we find out about Bloodhound. Don't worry, I won't be spoiling! I had a story set up for them before I read the lore book, and that's the story I'll be sticking to. Maybe one day I'll write some canon things, but for now, this story is no longer canon-compliant. Part of me is sad to have all the answers, but hey! That's what makes canon-divergent fics so fun :)

Elliott practically flies down the street towards the Legends’ apartment complex, bursting with nervousness and energy as he goes. The torrential downpour of rain doesn’t even manage to dampen his mood; he’s got a heavy-duty umbrella and an upbeat attitude that could make the skies clear up in moments. Bloodhound’s proposition hangs in his head, and he clings to it with an embarrassing neediness. ‘Would you like to visit me in my apartment later this evening?’ they had asked, and he thought his heart would burst out of his chest. He feels like a dumbass for the way he had reacted- god, he was so lame. Falling over his words, making the simplest mistakes… What fourteen year old in the area had reached out and possessed him? Whoever it was, he’d have to have a strong talk with them later.

After arriving back to his apartment above the bar, he’d scrubbed himself clean and very meticulously arranged his hair. He’d eventually chosen a deep purple sweater over a light blue button down, a pair of his nicer dark jeans, a black belt, and sneakers to wear for the evening. He’d hemmed and hawed in front of the mirror for at least twenty minutes, rolling and unrolling his sleeves, second guessing each outfit choice he made until he settled. He had decided to keep the sleeves rolled up, but the easy confidence he usually has in himself has chosen to take a pointed leave of absence.

Elliott really does feel like a teenager obsessing over their first date all over again, but he has to remind himself it’s not a date, it’s just a talk. A nice evening in. A nice evening alone with Bloodhound. His cheeks blaze, and the enormity of his crush on them plummets onto his head all at once. 

Ahh, shit.

He finally lets his thoughts race and wander while thinking about them. For the first time in days, he lets himself linger on his memories of their face, though the quick glimpse he had gotten had not left him with much to remember. Their gorgeous red hair, their piercing green eyes, the striking contours of their face… They are so beautiful, and he would do anything to see their face again.

A giddy smile crosses his face when he thinks of all the times they’ve touched him on the arm or on the shoulder, or held his hands so softly. They had exuded kindness and compassion in those moments, the genuineness of which Elliott has not truly felt in a while. Bloodhound’s quiet vulnerability in the bar the other night had struck him as both odd and humbling; their increasing trust in him is something he definitely doesn’t want to take for granted. 

The complex comes into view and Elliott’s heart starts to pound harder in his chest. It takes a great deal of effort to not run all the way to their door… until he realizes he doesn’t know which floor is theirs, much less which door.

Bzzt! His phone vibrates in his back pocket, and he jumps a little before retrieving it. A message from an unknown number is emblazoned across the lock screen:

Second floor, number 14.

-BH

Excitement and happiness surges through his veins, and he immediately saves their contact information. God, is he really that pumped about having their number? A big stupid smile stretches across his face, and he wants to smack himself. Chill, Elliott, chill. You’ve gotta get ahold of yourself before you get up there. He takes a deep breath and sends a quick reply to Bloodhound as he continues down the sidewalk, valiantly avoiding the puddles. 

Nearly there! How’d you get my number?

A reply flashes through faster than he thought it would.

Renee owed me a favor. I hope it is all right that I asked her.

Oh, yeah, that’s fine! No problem :)

He has to physically restrain himself from adding a little heart; Renee or Octavio or Makoa were used to his nonsense, but he figures Bloodhound would only find it strange for him to be adding those things to his texts right off the bat. He’s busy smiling off into space when his phone vibrates again.

I am looking forward to seeing you.

Elliott’s heart practically explodes in his chest, and he steps right into a puddle.

------

Bloodhound can’t stay still.

Ever since those traitorous words had fallen from their mouth, they’d been on red alert, their brain and body a hopeless torrent of conflicting emotions that hadn’t quite settled. They think it’s fitting that it is raining; it seems the Allfather is showing his sympathies in the smallest of ways. The rain patters against the windows in a steady rhythm, and under any other circumstance it would have been very calming. They would have shed the mask and goggles and snuggled into the couch with a book and a cup of tea, but tonight, that isn’t an option. Instead, they’re wandering aimlessly around their apartment- cleaning corners that don’t really need to be cleaned, tending to Artur, and sipping at a glass of water every time they walk by the kitchen.

They’d hopped into the shower immediately after arriving home and cleaned every inch of their skin with an annoying attention to detail. Their anxiety had mounted in their chest until they had had to sit on the cold tiles of the shower with their head between their legs. Everything is going to be fine, they’d repeated to themself over and over again. Elliott would never hurt you.

The thought is ironic because of the stubborn headache at the base of their skull- Boone’s pain medicine had done little to abate the throbbing in their neck. As they think back on their day, they feel a surge of pride for Elliott. It seems that he is finally allowing himself to succeed, instead of limiting himself like he had before. He had truly surprised them today. Where they had once seen hesitation and worry, it had been replaced with deadly precision and focus, and Bloodhound would not change the outcome of the match even if they could. Elliott had been a wonderful sight to behold.

The frantic fear is nearly gone, but it lingers just enough to make them a little self-conscious. Opting not to wear their Games attire, they’ve picked a thick turtleneck, fitted cargo pants, woolen socks, and a slimmer pair of gloves that will hide their hands but not hinder any movement. The mask is laid on the table, ready to be put on at a moment’s notice. They’re already wearing the helmet, their goggles, and the leather cap. They’ve always hated having to pile wet hair under the hood, but their plans left them no choice. Bloodhound hasn’t cared much about their physical appearance in years, but for some reason, the idea of being alone with Elliott again makes them want to hide away in embarrassment.

An eager knock at the door startles Bloodhound, and they very nearly knock over their glass.

Their heart starts pumping in their chest, and their fingers fumble a little as they clip the respirator to the cap. Immediately, their breathing comes easier, and they scold themself for going so long without it this evening. Bloodhound makes their way to the door and opens it, revealing an absolutely drenched Elliott holding a broken umbrella in one hand and a pair of sopping wet sneakers in the other. 

“Hey! I, uh, definitely stepped in a ton of puddles on the way here. I usually watch where I’m going but these ones were sac- ski- scattered everywhere, so I couldn’t see them at all, and then of course the wind picked up and shredded my umbrella, so I’m totally soaked.” He shrugs helplessly and shakes the bent umbrella off a little, showering Bloodhound’s feet with droplets of water. “Ah, shit. Sorry!”

They shake their head at him and sigh, and a shiver goes through their body as they think about being drenched in this weather. “It is of no consequence, Elliott, I can very easily change socks. Please, come in,” they say, and they lead him into their apartment.

They try not to look at him as he takes in their apartment, suddenly insecure about how simple and bare it looks. The apartment had come furnished, but it is not quite to their tastes. Bloodhound prefers a more homey and warm feel, not the modern, sleek look that is so popular these days. The windows in the living room are quite large. Bloodhound had had a tinted effect added to them immediately- for their anonymity and so the light coming in would not be quite so harsh on their sensitive eyes. The furnishings are a combination of aesthetically pleasing colors and fabrics, all tones of white or grey or brown. A couple of plush blankets are draped over the back of the couch, and minimalistic frames are hung on the walls, great white voids containing typeface quotes and old cliches. The fireplace is an inordinate monolith of dark stone, and if Bloodhound had thought of it, they would have started a fire to make it seem less dull and boring. The thought occurs to them that they should have made this place more welcoming, but they are not vain enough to care in the long run. After all, will Elliott even want to return after he receives the answers to his questions? Bloodhound thinks not.

“Wow,” Elliott remarks, leaning his umbrella against the wall by the door. “It’s so clean.” He strips off his socks and rolls up his pants a little so the soggy ends aren’t rubbing around his ankles. The cuffs fit tightly around his very sculpted calves, and Bloodhound blushes before looking away pointedly.

“This space is not to my tastes,” they reply, watching him walk around. “My real home is much more notalegt- cozy- and warm. Not cold and unfeeling like this place is.” 

“Your real home?” he asks, glancing at them. “You don’t live in the Legends complexes full time?”

“I stay in the buildings during the on season, but during the off season, I retreat to a modest cabin in the woods,” they explain, and they realize they’ve made their first confession of the night. That... wasn’t so bad. “There are bookshelves from floor to ceiling, a large fireplace, plenty of furs to keep warm, and a view that would take your breath away. I quite enjoy it.” 

“That sounds amazing,” he grins. That smile… Bloodhound has to take a deep breath.

“Maybe I will show you one day,” they say, surprising themself with how easily they offer. “It is a beautiful place, and I think you would like it.” 

“Really?” he asks, surprised. “You’d, uh… you’d let me go with you?”

“Perhaps,” they murmur, and their heart starts to beat hard in their chest again. They notice he’s still carrying his wet shoes and socks, and they move to take them from him. “Here. Let me start a fire. Your shoes and socks will be dry in no time.” 

“Oh, thank you!” he replies cheerily, and the smile he gives them makes their heart skip a beat. They take the soggy items from him, cringing a bit at the questionable texture, and set them on the mantle for a moment. Overly aware of how closely he’s watching them, they kneel down, turn the gas knob, and light the fire quickly. In moments, a rosy glow emanates from the fireplace and Bloodhound pulls the screens over to eliminate any chance of Elliott’s things going up in flames. They reach up and place the shoes and socks on a small rack in front of the fire, and then they stand and retreat to their room for a moment.

Before long, they return to the living room wearing a fresh pair of socks and carrying a pair for Elliott. “Here,” they say, holding them out to him. “So your feet are not cold. It can be drafty in here when it rains.”

A pink tinge comes to his cheeks, and he accepts them hesitantly. “You’re way too nice,” he grumbles quietly as he sinks down onto the couch. He puts them on and then pushes his floppy wet hair out of his face. “Hey, can I borrow your hair dryer?” he asks, giving them a questioning glance.

“I… do not own one,” they reply, face burning. “Mine gave out a few weeks ago and I have not yet had time to buy another.”

To their surprise, he grins widely and looks away, suddenly very focused on the fire. “That’s all right,” he says, and his voice is curiously flustered. “I can just sit in front of the fireplace for a bit. You’re about to see the fluffiest hair the Outlands has to offer.” He laughs and rolls his eyes, raking his hands through his messy mop. 

The thought of Elliott with an untamed mess of curly hair makes them smile like a lovesick teenager, and they’re so, so glad they’re still wearing the mask. “So your hair is not perfect all the time?” they tease, sitting down on the couch next to him. They leave a respectable distance between them, but the distance is smaller than it would have been two or three weeks ago. “Ah, so he does have a flaw. Artur, can you believe it?”

They look to Artur’s perch where the bird has been sleeping peacefully throughout all of this. The bird shakes his beak and gives a soft caw before shuffling along his branch, completely ignoring Bloodhound. They shake their head at him. Unhelpful creature, they think affectionately.

Elliott scoffs and says, “Psh, no! I’m absolutely fal- flo- fu- perfect. My hair just has a life of its own sometimes.” He flips his hair to the opposite side and gives Bloodhound a ridiculously goofy expression. It takes everything in them to not burst out laughing, and they would have given him a deadpan expression if they could.

“Like your aim with an R-99, then,” they reply, keeping their voice as even as possible.

His mouth drops open, but he��s smiling. “Wh-What? Was that a joke? Did you actually just tell a joke?” A huge, incredulous laugh escapes his throat and he grabs his chest, and Bloodhound almost loses it. “That’s a little unfair though, considering how I absolutely lasered you today.”

It’s Bloodhound’s turn to laugh, and their face hurts from how much they’ve smiled lately. “You are correct, Elliott,” they admit, holding their hands up in a placating gesture. “I was very impressed with your skill this morning. Your precision and focus made you a formidable opponent, and I was honored to fight with you.”

Instead of the cocky, arrogant response they have come to expect from him, Elliott actually blushes. It is a welcome change; his cheeks turn a lovely shade of red and he looks away, biting his lip. “Thanks,” he says simply, and his voice is… bashful? 

Bloodhound does not quite know what to make of that.

------

His face burns fiercely and he can’t meet their eyes. He loves getting praise from his fans and from his friends, but getting praised by Bloodhound somehow means so much more. Maybe it’s because they’re so skilled, or maybe it’s because he respects them the most out of any other Legend, but such high compliments coming from them renders him a little speechless. 

“Hey, I know this is dumb since we’re paid to kill each other, but, um… Sorry about today,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “Taking an entire clip of ammo to the head always gives you a nasty headache.”

Bloodhound huffs quietly, and Elliott takes that to be a soft laugh. “Do not worry, vinur minn. I am perfectly fine. It was simply the Allfather’s will for me to lose today, and I am not offended.”

Elliott lets out a small chuckle, relieved. “Well, that’s good to know. I was worried I might have broken your mask.”

They tap their mask firmly, and it makes a solid thunk sound. “You see? Perfectly fine,” they reply, and Elliott can hear the smile in their voice. “It is quite solid and substantial. Unlike much of your humor.”

Elliott stares at them open mouthed. “I’m wounded, Bloodhound, truly!” he rebutts, scandalized. He flops back against the couch dramatically, the back of his hand pressed against his forehead. Bloodhound, making multiple jokes in one night? The world must be ending, he thinks, and he doesn’t even care that the jokes are coming at his expense.

Bloodhound laughs, and God, he’s missed that sound. The gentle lilt, the soft breathiness of their voice… Elliott blushes even as he giggles, and he treasures the noise they’re making. 

“I have been known to be humorous now and again,” they say, still chuckling. 

Elliott can only smile and shake his head in wonder as the two of them laugh, and soon, he’s wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “Wow. Okay, out of all the things I expected tonight it definitely wasn’t that.”

“And what have you expected for this evening, Elliott?” Bloodhound cocks their head and leans back into the couch, folding their arms.

A thrill of joy runs its course throughout his body when they say his name, and he finds it strange. Bloodhound has surely said his name hundreds of times, but this feels different. Elliott is sure he’s overthinking it, but the way they had said it feels like they were humming a song. 

His entire body glows with warmth. “You promised me answers,” he says carefully as the giddiness starts to drain away. “You don’t have to go into specifics but… still, you promised answers.”

Bloodhound is silent for a moment, and their hands fidget lightly in their lap. Then they nod. “Yes. I do owe you answers, so please, ask whatever you would like.” Their voice is guarded and serious, and the shift in attitude is sobering. 

Elliott notices how discomfort begins to creep into their posture, and so he resolves to not push them any further than they are willing to be pushed. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, the air hissing between his teeth as he leans back and begins to think. “Okay, um… Well, I was worried about your mask breaking because I don’t know how it works or how it helps. Can I ask why you need it?”

The question only makes Bloodhound’s body language tighten up more. They are silent for several long moments, seeming to ponder and consider his question. Was that too much right out of the gate? he thinks frantically, and he’s about to redact his question when they let out a big breath and begin to speak.

“When I was a child, I was… in an accident,” they say, but something about their admission feels shallow, as if they have more to tell. “No. I made a grave mistake.”

Elliott takes a deep breath and readjusts himself on the couch. He can tell this story will be a long one, and he intends to listen to every word.

“In my culture, young warriors must endure a rite of passage that shows our strength and our transition into adulthood,” Bloodhound explains. “My test was to slátra a prowler beast. I was afraid, but... I knew the Allfather would guide me.” They pause for a moment, and Elliott hangs on to their every word. “I followed its tracks to an abandoned IMC facility deep in the woods, but what I found there was far more hryllilegur. Horrible,” they add when Elliott raises an eyebrow. 

“A jötunn had made its home there. It is a terrifying beast, all horns and teeth and claws. It is as large as some of the buildings in Slum Lakes, if you can recall. I began to run away, but I found a prototype Charge Rifle and shot the beast. I thought it was dead. I collected its horn to present to my uncle, but he was... disappointed in me.” They sigh deeply as dread begins to pool in Elliott’s stomach. “I had rejected the sacred laws of the Hunt by using a gun in order to defeat this beast. Artur was steadfast, immovable in his convictions, and no matter how hard I tried to convince him of my victory, he would not validate it.

“I left in anger. I was a child, only fourteen years old, but if the other village elders knew what I had done, they would have exiled me. I was... so ashamed.” Bloodhound swallows, and it sounds like it takes a lot of effort. “I retreated to the forest to be alone, as I often did, and… the jötunn was there. It was not dead, as I had hoped. It sought revenge.

“I tried my best to fight it off. My uncle was alerted to my cries, and came to help, along with many other villagers. They fought, and…” Their voice tightens, and Elliott’s heart breaks. “Many died. Including my uncle.”

Their voice has become achingly vulnerable and soft the longer they’ve spoken, and Elliott wants nothing more than to reach out and take their hands again. He shifts closer to them on the couch, closing the gap ever so slightly. His eyes stay glued to their mask, and the lenses of their goggles reflect the flickering light of the fireplace. He’s always found the mask to be either intimidating or expressionless, but Bloodhound’s sadness speaks for them, and the mask seems to be considerably more morose than usual. 

“I sought the beast out,” they continue, and Elliott is surprised by how quietly angry and low their voice is. “It had returned to the abandoned facility. The halls had been equipped with coolant lines in case of an explosion or other emergency, and I broke them in order to immobilize the beast. But I breathed too much of it in, and… it dehydrated and froze my skin and lungs, leaving me scarred. Fortunately, I was able to find an oxygen mask just before I succumbed to the cold. Once the beast was frozen, I killed it with my uncle’s axe, fulfilling my test.”

Bloodhound is quiet for some time, and it takes Elliott a moment to realize they’re done talking. He knows he’s staring, and he knows he looks like he’s pitying them, and he fights to find an adequate response. “I’m so sorry, Bloodhound,” he murmurs, and he reaches out to them hesitantly. He takes their hands ever so softly, giving them every opportunity to pull away. “I’m so sorry you had to deal with such horrible things when you were younger. That sounds really tra- tor- traumatizing.” He’s struck by an incredible urge to pull them into his arms and hold them close, and a wave of embarrassment runs through his body as he presses that urge down.

Bloodhound’s hands begin to tremble in his, and he’s alerted to their discomfort immediately. Their breathing comes quicker and shallower even through the mask, and he holds onto them tighter. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks, worried.

“I-” Their voice breaks and Elliott’s heart clenches in his chest. “I- I am sorry, Elliott, you do not want to see me like this-” Bloodhound makes an attempt to pull away and stand, but Elliott holds on tight, keeping them right where they are.

“Hey, hey,” he soothes. “It’s okay! It’s all right. I’m not bothered by you being emotional. It’s actually pretty refreshing, honestly. Makes you feel more normal, like the rest of us.”

They laugh weakly, and Elliott sighs in relief. “T-Thank you, vinur minn. I just- I am prone to anxiety attacks, and…” They suck in a huge lungful of air, but they’re still shaking. “That is why I left the other night. When you asked me about Artur, I was overcome and needed to leave as quickly as possible. Please do not take any offense- it was not your fault.”

Elliott’s chest fills with a strange sense of compassion and guilt, and he squeezes their hands comfortingly. “It’s okay, Bloodhound,” he reassures them. “I’m not mad. Just… worried.” The admission makes him feel exposed and overbearing all at once, and he really hopes he’s not making them uncomfortable.

An idea comes to his mind. “Hey,” he says quietly. “Breathe with me.” 

Bloodhound stiffens, and Elliott hopes to God he hasn’t somehow offended them. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, and after a moment, he hears Bloodhound inhale greatly as well. He finds himself rubbing his thumbs back and forth across their rough gloves, just like they had done to him a few nights ago. He lets the air calm him and settle his racing heart. He still doesn’t really know what he’s doing, or if he’s even doing this right, but to his delight, Bloodhound’s breathing begins to slow and even out. They gradually stop shaking, and he smiles. 

Elliott opens his eyes. “Better?” he asks, and he gives their hands a quick squeeze. 

They are quiet for a moment. “Nearly,” they murmur, and they pull their hands away. Elliott’s face falls, and rejection begins to rise in him, but they take off their gloves and reach for him once more. He eagerly closes the gap between his shaking fingers and theirs. The place where they make first contact with his skin- a small place near his thumb- tingles pleasantly, and the warmth of their hand settles in his. He inhales sharply, and beams as their fingers curl into his own. 

“Better.” They are so quiet and soft as they speak, and Elliott almost misses what they say. “Your kindness is a blessing to me, kæri vinur. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiles, trying to find their eyes beyond the lenses of their goggles. Despite his happiness, he finds himself wishing that he could search their face for meaning, for emotion, for clarity. He knows why they need and wear the mask. He knows why he will likely never see their face again. But, damn, does he desperately want to gaze upon them just one more time. He doesn’t know what kæri vinur means, but he can’t help but notice the similarities between it and what they usually call him. 

He doesn’t dare to hope it means anything.

...does he?

“Do you… do you want to talk about it, or…?” he trails, attempting to do what they had done a few nights ago. 

“No, Elliott,” they reply, but their voice is not unkind. Their grip on his hands tightens for a moment, then they loosen, and it sends a thrill down Elliott’s spine. “Your help was more than enough to calm me.”

He adjusts himself on the couch, and his knee brushes against theirs. The only light in the room comes from the quietly crackling fire, and it highlights Bloodhound’s features with a silhouette of warmth. His heart starts to pound in his chest once more, and every sense heightens. Elliott suddenly becomes aware of how intimate and vulnerable this little bubble of space is, and his shoulders tense in anticipation of something he knows will never come. He wants to pull them close. He wants to lace his fingers in theirs. He wants to…

“Can I trust you, Elliott?”

They sound so… exposed. So afraid. His breath catches in his throat for a moment. “O-Of course, Bloodhound. You can trust me with anything,” he murmurs, rubbing his thumbs across their knuckles reassuringly. He’s surprised by how rough their hands are, and it’s only then that he remembers the silvery spider web scars stretching across their skin. 

“Then… there is something I wish to share with you,” they reply, and their hands begin to tremble in his again. They let go of him, and to his utter shock, their hands go to their helmet, edging towards the many clasps that fasten it to their goggles and respirator.

“W-Wait, hold on,” he stutters, and he reaches for their hands again. “A-Are you- hey, you really don’t have to do that if you don’t want to, I mean- I mean, are you absolutely sure?” He stares at them in confusion and worry, and his stomach is an unintelligible knot of emotion. Elliott searches their mask and their body language, trying desperately to figure out what the hell they’re thinking.

“If I was not sure I would not be doing this,” they chide gently, and they remove their hands from his grip. “Please, just let me do this. Ég er svo- I am so tired of hiding.”

Elliott can’t argue with that. 

“Okay,” he says, still very unsure. His hands fall back into his lap.

------

The child inside them shakes and trembles horribly as they raise their hands to their head. Part of them screams and begs for them to stop, and it’s only in this moment that they realize that part is the terrified twenty-five year old that had had their mask shattered in front of all those people so long ago. That crowd had been so cruel, but Elliott could never share their vitriol, their hatred. Bloodhound has seen into the man’s heart more than they ever thought they would, and no trace of cruelty exists inside him.

How long has it been since they willingly showed someone else their face? Five years? Ten? Ajay seeing them had been a complete and total accident- one that they had learned not to mind. Boone had grown up with them, of course, so he does not count. But Elliott… At the beginning of this night, they never would have dreamed of doing what they’re about to do. But Elliott is so kind, so thoughtful and accepting that their heart yearns for him greatly, and they can ignore that fact no longer.

Their fingers fumble with the straps of their helmet, but something drives them forward. It drives them to be vulnerable- to be open and take a risk. Elliott has seen their face already, so why are they so nervous? He has seen the scars they bear- why are they trembling like the young one they used to be? They do not know, but they hope that the price of them being so vulnerable is a price he’s willing to pay. 

There is no turning back now, they think. 

With trembling hands, they remove the helmet, cap, goggles, and finally, the mask. 

[rena-rain]

Miraculous Holders’ Costumes - RANKED

#1 - Dragon Bug

Dragon Bug’s design is the freaking epitome of asymetrical balance. Everything about this suit is both smooth and sharp. The curving stripes and spots give the impression of fire licking up her body, same with the flame-shaped horns in her hair. You can hardly go wrong with black, red, and gold. The upward-pointing hair accessories reflect her downward-pointing pigtails, adding more subtle balance, and I love the details on her mask.

#2 - Rena Rouge

This design really suits Alya. The shape of the white front is both slimming and compliments her curves, and the black accents at her extremities are an excellent counterbalance to the white and orange. Also something about the coattails just completes Rena Rouge’s look! It’s the right shape too, because fox tails are on the bushier side, unlike cats and mice.

#3 - Chat Noir

Chat Noir’s costume can be described as “black cat meets knight in shining armor but modern.” Let’s go from the head down. The change in hairstyle balances out his cat ears. His blond hair, green eyes, and gold bell are beautiful contrasts to the black suit, which has a subtle texture to the fabric. There are visible seams over his shoulders, arms, and torso that add visual interest to the design and makes his suit resemble armor - even more so with his boots and gauntlets. Those details are fantastic because black is extremely slimming and they give some emphasis to his shape. Between the ears, eyes, bell, claws, and tail, you could never mistake his aesthetic as anything but catlike.

#4 - Hawk Moth

Do not tell me Hawk Moth’s costume isn’t sleek as hell. The monochrome works for him, the suit pairs well with his weapon being a staff, the overhead silver helmet-mask gives him a great villainous feel, and every pointy detail gives a sense of evil butterflies. I love that his miraculous is the focal point of his outfit, the light color contrast really draws the eye.

#5 - Snake Noir

They definitely combined the best elements of the Chat costume and Aspik costume for Snake Noir. In a word, you can describe his design as “lithe.” The cyan pairs well with the green, especially because there’s a Chat Noir-green diamond on his chest. The snake elements are a bit subtler, with his head smooth, the design tapering down his body, the fangs on his mask, the scale texture on his suit and the lines running down his arms. It’s cohesive, elegant, and stark.

#6 - Bunnix

I think Bunnix is meant to resemble a snowshoe hare. They didn’t give her a tail, but I think that’s what the little rounded ball accents are supposed to represent. The markings are bold and evenly distributed, making her look balanced and symmetrical. She actually has a vague vintage feel to her design: the white torso is reminiscent of a corset, which goes with the gloves, boots, and umbrella/parasol. Like Chat Noir, Alix’s hair makes a great contrast with the light blue and white. Also POCKETS.

#7 - Carapace

I love how much Carapce emulates a turtle. His hood and cowl are shaped like a turtle beak and also hide his face, serving both to protect his identity and give the impression he can physically retreat into his costume. His shield looks like a shell, the designs on his hood look like common markings on turtles’ heads, and he has a tortoiseshell pattern on his chest and shield. Like Chat Noir, the lines of his suit give his arms and legs visual interest.

#8 - Queen Bee

As much as I personally dislike the color yellow, Queen Bee’s costume has a straightforward elegance about it. Obviously the black and yellow stripes resemble a bumble bee but they’re also good for Chloe’s slender body type.. The black “neckline” and “gloves” are regal in flavor, suiting her moniker. You get a distinct bee impression from the sharpness of her stripes (a reminder of her stinging power), the black swirl around her hair, and the antennae-like hair ribbon.

#9 - Multimouse

Multimouse is another example of a well-balanced and symmetrical design. It uses the reliable faux gloves and boots design with colors that go well together. Her buns and jump rope look like mouse ears and a tail. I have a suspicion the animators came up with it to easily combine with other miraculous powers, mainly by changing the color of the pink stripes post-unification. Overall, this costume is very cute. I won’t go over every permutation of the multimice combos since very little changes other than color.

#10 - Lady Noire

Overall, Lady Noire’s suit is minimalist and elegant in a sharp, modern kind of way. Black is naturally slimming, and Marinette is already very slim, so the horizontal green accents help emphasize her curves. I don’t love the green lining of her ears, but I suppose that keeps the design consistent. I’m absolutely in love with Lady Noire’s braid (and I’d be remiss not to take the chance to point out this is the only time we see her hair properly black instead of blue). Her suit has a completely smooth texture, unlike both her Ladybug suit and Chat Noir’s, which I found odd and does’t do her petite frame any favors.

#11 - Mr. Bug

I’m glad they gave Mr. Bug black panels on his sides. The full-cover spots of Ladybug is fine for Marinette, but Adrien has a bigger frame and it would just look ostentatious on him. This design emphasizes his shoulders and slims him down a bit. He actually looks like a football player (American football, don’t @ me about this). He ranks just below Lady Noire because of the hair.

#12 - Aspik

OMG what a cutie pie. I can’t not say it - he looks like he’s wearing a corset in the left pic. Not a good or bad thing, I’m just saying. Look at this cutie pie! Aspik actually looks more snake-like than Viperion, imo: the design is sleeker and he’s got the diamonds over his head, that’s a nice touch. The snake scale pattern is a great detail. I had to step outside my own bias with this one because snakes really freak me out and so does Adrien without hair.

#13 - Jade Turtle

He’s less turtle-y than Carapace, but I was pretty happy with the Jade Turtle costume. The Asian style obviously suits him, and it makes sense because he was originally from China, while many of the others would be more used to Western clothing at a young age. Fu has a tortoise-shell pattern on his hat and shoulder guards and his shoes look like turtle feet. However, His chest plate deviates from the turtle theme

#14 - Viperion

My favorite parts of Viperion’s costume are his mask with the little snake fangs and the scale texture of the suit.As I mentioned above, it’s less snakey than Aspik’s. The lines suit his shape pretty well, but don’t taper down his body in the way a snake slims from chest to tail. I just feel like something’s missing from the outfit as a whole.

#15 - Ladybug

There’s just...nothing all that special about Ladybug’s costume. The red and black do suit Marinette’s pink coloring and dark hair, and contrast with her blue eyes. The bright color and pattern emphasize Marinette’s curves pretty well and make her look a little bigger than her slim stature. All that said, the suit is both busy and plain somehow.

16 - Pegasus

While I do love the hair, something about Pegasus’ costume is both too subtle and too over-the-top somehow at the same time. He has a lot of bells and whistles, though I suppose it’s supposed to look similar to horse tack. The winged shoes seem completely out of place. It’s not that I think he looks bad, but he doesn’t look particularly cool either.

#17 - Mayura

The one sin of Mayura’s outfit is the giant slit up the skirt, but kwamis is it a sin. The colors all go together and the headpiece matches the hem, and it has a distinct cold-weather theme going on with the boots, fur collar and cuffs, and full coverage design. That gets negated by the slit, which exposes nearly all of her legs, something that works far better for a summer evening dress.

#18 - King Monkey/Roi Singe

I’ve tried to figure out what it is about King Monkey’s costume that looks less than optimal, and I’m pretty sure it’s that it isn’t balanced well. He has large gloves, and elaborate crown and hairstyle, a thick collar, and a thick belt high up his waist. It makes him look kind of top-heavy. Similar to Pegasus, but to a greater extent, he’s washed out by the excess of neutral colors that the red doesn’t counteract very much.

#19 - Ryuko

I expected the dragon outfit to be more exciting. Other than the tail design (and the horns???), there’s just nothing dragon-esque about this. Come on, Chat Noir got ears, claws, and a tail; Viperion and Snake Noir got little scale motifs all over and fangs on their masks; Multimouse got bun ears and a tail; Carapace got a shell and a beak; Rena Rouge also got ears and a tail on top of a design reminiscent of a fox’s fur markings. Imagine the awesome tail and claws and fire motifs we were deprived of with the dragon. The best parts of Ryuko’s design is the embellished mask, her reptile eyes, and the red/black/gold color scheme, which are pretty cool.