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chishiyasbiscuits · 5 months ago

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naked! || kyuma x reader xo

[3.2k words.] [Warning: Lovely smut. Public-fucking. Kyuma's so sweet. Wholesome, basic sex apart from the fact they're on opposing sides of a death game😕 Slight, slight bit of angst at the end, because...yeah.]

I wasn't too sure how I had reached this exact moment. Where the lights around me seemed to dim, with every passing minute, and with every sharp ding from the looming boards above us. As if I was already being granted death. Straight on a silver plate, gleaming with an array of not meat, but misery.

Silence coated our once enthusiastic cluster. It had seemed almost like the calm before a storm, and my pessimistic self couldn't help but wonder if our party were bound to exit this game...or not. "There's still a way.." Usagi breathed. Whether she was speaking out to a particular person, the entire group or herself I wasn't sure, but her words were slicked in a sympathetic amount of wavering hope. Her frantic gaze met Arisu's in an awkward staring contest. He swallowed, before averting his gaze all while pulling his chapped lips into a thin line. "Come on.." Her voice became drained. Battered by the lack of interaction we bestowed upon her.

Her straight posture slipped up, and her shoulders melted into a somewhat lazy position. "Arisu?" She questioned lightly. The male shrugged, and her breath caught the air as she exhaled. The deep sensation of dread within me had began to bubble down, and now I believe I had come to terms with my fate. Ever looming in both the present and future. It was bound to happen amidst these treacherous territories anyway. In a game, mixed with the members of a band - one of which, was extremely attractive - out of all likelihoods.

My simple mind flickered back to those recent memories. Kyuma Ginji, or known to the participants as the King of Clubs. Being classed as royalty was attractive enough, but the man also had his appealing nature to add to the alluring mix. He appeared to us ass-naked, and showing off every inch of his glorious body. Tanned skin, luscious and gleaming against the glistening sunlight. Flexed muscles, with every subtle movement. The way his abs were so defined, and his features were so striking. Not to mention his captivating locks - medium length, dark and draped around his neck. The urge to knit my fingers within the strands was irresistible. There was also, of course, the mere and plain fact that although he possessed such bewitching beauty, this man was also charming. Polite, well-mannered, a gentleman, undeniably good in bed...

My eyes tore themselves from the concrete I had unknowingly set them on. Instead, flicking up to meet the one's of Usagi. Her lashes fell in the form of a few blinks, before she flashed me a downcast smile. Her spirit had been dampened, as I could tell by the way she questioned aid from the others, while being demoralized. "Y/n.." She whispered. The others glanced at me - their expressions dejected.

"I'll help." I replied, and her forlorn look tilted up into a shocked, but also relieved grin. "Really?" She breathed in disbelief. I hummed, lowering my head into a nod. After all, I still had a good portion of my points, and so out of us all, I was least likely to be caught out in a battle. "Thank you, Y/n." She bowed, before twisting her energized body toward the maze of shipment containers. "I'll look for items." She explained, pausing to catch her increasing breath. Much as a result of excitement. "Would you mind finding any way to obtain points?" She questioned, eyes meeting mine for a split moment. "Any way?" I asked, wetting my lips with my tongue. I uncrossed my arms, and lifted my back into a straight, more engaged posture. "Yeah, okay. Good idea."

It had been what felt like hours. Though in reality, as I had expected, the time I had spent searching neared to about...five minutes. My thoughts continuously drifted to the bare skin and flesh of Kyuma. His pecs, his biceps, his...

My lip entered the space between my teeth, while I captured my thought process and brought it back into the game. My body reached an area, where the containers seemed to have already been searched. A blue one, darkened by use and shades of coppery rust, sat in my vision.

I was mere seconds away from entering the shadowed space, when the gorgeous, bare skinned man of my daydreams appeared from the shade. Kyuma Ginji. Fuck. My chest tightened almost instantly, and any words or breaths I could have dared let out were caught - pathetically - in the narrow of my throat. I swallowed desperately, in an attempt to clear the contracting my body was set on doing.

The man gifted a kind smile. While he walked, confidence in his painstakingly slow step. From the way his eyes turned crescent-shaped, and his lips pulled further up his face, I knew he could clearly see my prying eyes. Dragging down his physique, and landing on his cock. So obvious, between his legs. Thick, big, tanned - like the rest of his glowing frame. A shameful gulp brought words to my ears, and I cursed, tearing my gaze from his length. "There's no need for you to be nervous." He spoke, casting me a knowing glance. I could have melted. I felt so miniscule beneath his stare. It was almost arousing - being in the presence of his godly anatomy. Who am I kidding, it was arousing.

"Do you wish to battle?" He questioned, after he was met with puzzling silence. I flicked my gaze between his eyes. "Yes." The word slipped, almost without my intention. To be fair, I didn't really know why I had agreed to the offer. After all, if I screwed this our team were more than likely to be left limp and lifeless. Lost in this maze. Simple reminders to the next visitors that life was only short, and easily cut. He seemed amused by my enthusiasm to fight, even if all I had to do was set my palm on any expansion of his skin.

"Very well then." He smirked. Moving into position with so much grace, I had started to think this entire plan was fucked. Why the king? Was I fucking dumb? Stupid? My mind returned to the heated moment, when he breathed out. Setting his arms in a simple fighting stance. "Are you nervous?" He questioned, and I arched my brows. "No." I muttered, positioning myself in return. My foot slid in front of me, against the smooth, grey concrete. His smile stretched, and my chest rose. Still feeling cramped beneath the anxiety I had first felt when I set my eyes on him. "Do I make you nervous?" He repeated. His strong, deep voice circled my ears, dripping against my mind like a sweetened honey. "Stop distracting me." I spoke abruptly. His brows raised and he slipped himself closer. Strutting toward me like a cat, about to pounce on it's well-deserved prey.

"Am I not supposed to?" He questioned. "You're on the opposing team. Do you expect me to just give it to you, so easily?"

I inhaled, breathing out the air through my teeth. My arms fell to my sides, and I lifted my head. Locking my glare with his patient eyes. He was in close proximity now, and any part of my body was accessible to him. Kyuma could have easily reached out and softly flattened his palm against my arm, but no. He hesitated. Plainly standing, centimetres from my figure, and caressing my form with his teasing eyes. So near, yet so far. "Why aren't you touching me?" I whispered, brows furrowing in complex confusion. Kyuma raised his thin brows, lips rising into a taunting smile. "Touch you?" He repeated. "Do you want me to?"

I averted my gaze, searching my surroundings while I thought. "What if I do?" I smiled, and flicked my eyes to his once more. A slight sense of shock tainted his face, but really, his features seemed to light up at the straightforward reply. "You're a nice guy.." I started. My mind was brought back to Usagi's pleading stare. Her yearn for survival. It was us who deserved to win, however much it appeared as selfish. These were people who had the choice, surely. They wanted to be royalty. Citizens of this land. It was in no way my fault, nor Usagi's. I was going to get this information from him, and the points of course. For her, for me, for us.

"Do you mind doing a deal with me?" I asked, feigning innocence through both my eyes and misleading smile. His gaze narrowed, just slightly, before he tilted his head - letting his stygian hair brush his well-built shoulder. "Interesting." His lowered face morphed into a smirk. "What might this deal be?" He asked, even when he was smart enough to know the answer.

"I'll let you fuck me." I said sincerely, watching the tint in his eyes switch. His modest smile slipped to an unchaste smirk. "In exchange for both points and information." I finished. Hope flushed my features while he paused. Tilting his chin up to the sky, as his palm landed on his hip. He intentionally dragged out his reply, puffing air from his parted lips. Glistening with saliva. "That was unexpected from you." He returned, twisting his jaw and linking his stare with mine. "But?" I cut. "Deal." He whispered, softly bringing his arm to his front. His fingers were splayed, and waiting patiently for the warmth of my palm. I smiled in satisfaction, proudly lacing my fingers through his. Squeezing his skin, and shaking his calloused hand.

The subtle chime sounded, and the board displayed the shameful point extraction. I, however, didn't dare shy away from the man's gaze. Too wrapped up in his bare beauty. I had the very clear option of removing myself - unambiguously stealing his points, and leaving the king in the dirt - but I didn't. Lust had completely bulldozed my common sense, and his body - flush against mine - was all I ached for.

My hands buried themselves in his silky locks, while his palms found my desperate waist. He brought me against his pelvis, before dragging his fingers up my back and bringing them to rest on my heated cheeks. Kyuma never paused for a second too long, delicately pressing his smooth lips to mine. The act of lust turned ruthless, as if the desire was only just setting in. I gasped and my fingers folded through his hair. Clutching at the strands, where his tips were dampened by sweat. I could feel him. His muscles tensing, his heartbeat pulsing...His cock, growing harder by the second, and straining between the thin space of my stomach and his abdomen.

Kyuma pulled away, taking a finger and softly sweeping any loose hair behind my ear. His head drifted to my jaw, and his breath pricked against the sensitive skin - sending shivers across my spine. "I'm surely making you nervous now." He whispered rhetorically. A smile formed against the skin of my neck, and I forced the build-up of saliva down my throat.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" He questioned. His thumbs found my sides, and as his hands cupped my hips, they drew circles across the skin. I held my breath at the close proximity. How he continued rubbing the flesh, while trailing his soft fingers to my inner thighs. "If you wish for me to stop, do say so." Kyuma whispered, and when he earned a faint whimper, he moved on. His index finger - long and slim - trawled between the folds of my aching pussy. Still clothed, and begging for his bare cock. He then gripped my thigh with his hands, holding me up against his chest, and taking me cautiously toward the container. I was dropped, and my back met with the cool surface. The gentle cold only greeted me for a second before I was being handled once more. By strong, caring hands. Large and veiny. His long fingers wrapped across the skin of my thigh, and I was brought towards his pelvis, where my longing legs curved around the sides of his waist.

Kyuma's hard cock pressed against my abdomen. Pulsing on my skin, and leaking with pure arousal. Pre-cum dribbled from his sensitive tip, and landed against the flesh. Painting me with his lewd pleasure. I tempted the thought before grinding down on his girthy length. Giving his patience a hard time, as I rolled. Bucking softly across him and smiling in bliss at the cute twitches his cock granted me. The strands of his hair were now slick with sweat, and they dangled across his eyes like darkened curtains. Shielding the thirst in his sensual glare.

"Is there a way out of this place?" I asked between strangled breaths. Pushing my dripping core against his cock. He exhaled lowly, tossing his head back and clearing his vision. His head fell back. "Perhaps." He grunted lightly. I swallowed dryly, lowering my hands to tug on my clothes. Kyuma assisted, as the gentleman he was - lifting my t-shirt over my raised arms, and guiding my hands down my calves as the material was stripped from my skin. I was now bare, pressed against his golden skin. Gleaming brightly in the blinding sun. "Tell me." I commanded, throat swelling as his cock pulsed on my clit. Bringing me almost to a moaning mess. I was already leaking on this man's dick, and he was so composed. Back straight and muscles flexed with every movement he took. His hand dropped to stroke at his base. I bit my lip, and resorted to watching. Following his fingers as they folded around his shaft and positioned his swollen tip at my entrance. The head slipped between my folds and I whimpered impatiently, brazenly throwing my head back against the metal behind me. Kyuma slid himself inside, stretching my walls with his thick girth. His cock filled me so well, gifting me both the pleasure, and the soft twang of pain that came with his length.

His hips moved forward, after allowing me to adjust, and his dick slid further, gracing my walls with it's smooth movements. "You're wise. Do you not already know?" He grunted. "I want to hear it from you.." I stated, letting my hands find his shoulders. I stabilised myself as he pushed into me. Rutting and bucking. Filling me to the brim with each thrust. Sweat glimmered across his perfect complexion, and my eyes scanned his focused features. Taken by concentration as he fucked into me. Our hips connected with each jolt of his lower body, and his cock was beginning to bury deeper. "You're correct." He breathed. "Whatever you believe you must do."

"Complete all the games.." I murmured, before tensing at the way my words became caught in my throat. I moaned lightly, and his bliss-taken face was enough to tell me he was enjoying the show. "Yeah.." He whispered, too caught up in the way he stroked my insides, catching my spot with his tip. "Fuck.." I cursed, moans muffled by my lips. "Don't stop.."

"Oh, I'd be ignorant if I did." The man replied, head dropping near my neck and shoulder. "You look so irresistible when I'm inside you.." Kyuma whispered, hair tickling my cheek while I gasped. My eyes flickered, and the pleasure was starting to rush through me, in waves of electric ecstasy. Shooting into my stomach, and twisting a knot against my organs. I was so close, and the deep breaths against my ear were orgasm-inducing. Just as much as his cock was, sinking into me repeatedly. He groaned, and the sound reached my head instantly. The pleasing sound went straight to my aching pussy, and I cried out. Feeling overwhelmed in the presence of this gorgeous man. In this dirty, lustful, sexual act, where he fucked me shamelessly in the middle of nowhere. Against nothing but a shipment container, and with every ram the metal shook.

"Just like that." Kyuma whispered. His voice low and appreciative. "You take me so well.."

"Kyuma, please!" I moaned, almost whining under the sensation of my oncoming high. My stomach tensed and I unintentionally clenched around his pulsing cock. He grunted, plunging deeper as I started to string out my pleasure in the form of high-pitched moans. "Ssh, just a little longer, love." He spoke calmly, still mindful of our location. "Good girl." He praised when I complied his gentle words, and held back the rushing moans that attacked the small of my throat. I hummed in bliss. Closing my lashes at both the name and the undoing thrust of his dick. The hum dragged out while I came on his cock. Dropping myself against his balls in desperation as I released and milked the remnants of my pleasure.

Kyuma let slip a delightful groan. His hair fell, once more, across his eyes, and his lips were forced together. I could see the veins in his neck flex, and the expanse of his skin flinch with how hard he had been focusing. His cock slid in and out of me, bringing waves upon waves of gratification. Until he snapped. He released a soft, extended groan, which melted against my ears, and with that his cock twitched and spilling inside of me. My insides were undeniably painted white with his warm arousal, and even when his flaccid cock was removed from my soaked entrance, the cum slipped like pure slick down my thighs.

The man swallowed, catching back his lost breath. Spent on fucking me useless. His glistening chest, and pecs heaved from the lack of oxygen. I followed his actions, slicking back the loose strands of wet hair, that blurred my already foggy vision. "I'm sorry." I blurted, back flushed against the container while I rested. "There's no need to apologize." Kyuma smiled. His features warm and not in the slightest condescending. He granted me his soft eyes, which I frowned at. Sympathy lined my tight lips. "You only wished to survive." He continued, dragging his hot palm against my neck. It landed on my damp cheek, where his thumb rubbed the skin of my face. "It's admirable of you." He praised before taking in my constant expression. Like a guilty picture, plastered to my phony smile. "You earned it, didn't you?" He asked and my lips twitched. "I want you to live." He brought our faces closer, and whispered. "I liked you, you know." I looked off, speaking between harsh breaths. "It wasn't...it wasn't just me wanting information.."

"I figured." He released a breathless laugh at my confession. I smiled, and cast my eyes to the concrete floor. Kyuma gently set his thumb on my chin, lifting my head up with his forefinger. "If only we had somehow met in a different life."

I hummed, getting cut off by an update on the time our both teams had remaining. Kyuma raised his head to the side, showcasing his sharp jawline. He sighed softly. "You best meet with your teammates." He spoke, looking back to meet my firm nod. "When you are given the chance, choose to leave this world." He instructed, loosening his grip on my cheek, and slipping his warm touch from my skin. "Thank you, Kyuma." I smiled, stepping from his body, and casting his godly form one last glance. He dropped his head, smiling at my mannered response.

"No. Thank you, Y/n."

#alice in borderland #alice in borderland smut #smut #kyuma #kyuma x reader #chishiyasbiscuits

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smoothlikealikeasnake · 3 months ago

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Strawberry Princess Chapter Eleven “Live a Little More”

Pairing - OT7!BTS x Reader, Hybrid!BTS x Hybrid!Reader

Genre - Hybrid!Au , Hybrid BTS x Hybrid Reader, fluff, angst, eventual smut, slow burn? , alternative reality , strangers to lovers , strangers to friends, friends to lovers

Warnings - Angst (depressive thoughts?, questions about self-worth, loneliness, anxiety, wants to change), Very angst based for the first half x , fluff, suggestive comments and moments, intimate dancing, Lmk if there’s any more! 💖

Summary - When a certain hybrid starts to appear whenever Jungkook is at the gym, an immediate pull is felt between the two and their eventual friendship soon is spread to the rest of his pack.

Previous Next Overview

Just do it, live a little more

Life had started to become a cycle before Y/n met Jungkook and his mates. A cycle she had tried to break by accompanying her friend to the gym but she found it didn’t help, life seemed to fly by around her, all of these brilliant interesting opportunities and stories unfolding infront of her while she was frozen in time, in a time loop. A loop of loneliness, of emptiness, feeling a lack of worth or purpose.

It was scary really, how a few people could change all of that.

Some things couldn’t change though, the overthinking, the anxiety, that pit of loneliness that creeps back up your spine after it’s been sated. Those things will always come back, once the bliss of the day has worn off or the morning after, it lead Y/n to live a life almost afraid of most things around her. Of new opportunity, of surprise and of change, no matter how much she wanted to get out of that dreadful cycle something would hold her back. Maybe it was the fear that if she fell too deep with the pack, they could easily break her heart and she would be in a far worse position than before. But that fear hadn’t done much to stop her, it had already happened, now she was just left with that lingering anxiety under her skin about when she would slip up, when they would stop liking her.

It didn’t mean she didn’t want to change that. She did, oh she did. She wanted something some permanent or atleast semi permanent change that she had made that would silently reassure her of that.

There’s times where schedules will get busy and you won’t be able to meet with who you want too as often or even talk as often because you simply don’t have the time. Those are also the times when those feelings that are sated by glorious company will snake back up your spine and fill your head. Y/n never notices it happening until she’s already buried in them and it’s never something she shares with anyone, no matter how close of a friend they may be. The light drains from her eyes, light circles forming under them and cheeks becoming a duller pink, it feels straining to smile or to keep up with that joy she feels when she’s with the boys. She’d visit her mother at these times, they’d sit in the vast fields outside her home no matter the season and talk, sometimes watch the stars, sometimes even in the rain.

It’s a temporary solution really, she’d feel that warmth again but eventually it would come back and she couldn’t visit everyday so a longing would become present with all of the other feelings. All of that had seemed to disappear when she met the boys, she finally felt warm again, but all good things come with the bad. It had started before she had her day with Namjoon, waking up feeling like she couldn’t drag herself out of bed, tired in a different way. She did feel better for a while after but then schedules got busy and she could see the boys less than before, not that it was anyone’s fault and not that she ever believed it was.

You’d think it would of helped when she noticed they made it all better but it didn’t, she felt shameful, guilty that she had become dependent on them for happiness for a while and all of the negativity that was her life become consumed her again. Depending on someone knowingly is hard after teaching yourself to be independent for so long. Y/n knew she wanted nothing but to be with them all the time but, that shame is often stronger, it meant she tried to push those feelings down but the second she would stop speaking to them she would be reminded that once she left, it was all going to go back to before.

Maybe something new will make it a bit better?

“Hey Kook, do you know if Yoongi has any slots open for a piercing anytime soon?”

“He had a cancellation for tomorrow morning princess, did you want to get a piercing?”

“Yeah I just saw one that looked pretty and want to try something new”

“I’ll take you to the studio with me after the gym tmrw, you should get some sleep princess it’s late 💕”

“Thank you Kook, I’ll see you tmrw, goodnight 💕”

Even small change is scary sometimes, because it can mean your mind is changing, or atleast trying too. It kept Y/n up, it kept her from sleeping until late into the morning hours. She liked to believe it was excitement that kept her awake but was it really?

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“I missed you princess, how did you sleep?” - Jungkook embraced her as soon as she came in, wrapping her up tight and not taking her in before he had done so. She wasn’t as warm as usual, her hair was in a somewhat messy ponytail and her eyes were dull, scent dull too, it did sweeten when he took her in his arms but only a little.

“Good” Liar “How about you Kook?” - Y/n’s voice was slightly raspy and quieter than usual, Jungkook worried she might have been sick but something was telling him she wasn’t. He took her in, she was in some thermal leggings and one of the boys hoodies that she had taken home one time and he would have been flattered and full of pride if it wasn’t for the way she was gripping onto the sleeves harshly. As if it was some sort of lifeline and for the tip of her head, the float of her body and lack of scent she was emitting. He’d seen it before, a few times, on his mates but never on his princess, never even once but maybe he hadn’t been looking hard enough, maybe it had been there and he just didn’t see it.

“Yeah good, you excited to get your piercing?” - Jungkook gave her a gentle smile hoping he’d get one in return but the one Y/n gave wasn’t half as sincere, even though he knew she was trying. He just wanted to scoop her up and take her home, to make it all better and he knew his mates would only want the same. Y/n’s eyes were unfocused and drifting when she replied, it was short and reserved he watched as she sat down, wrapping her arms around herself and looking like she was trying to sink into the hoodie she wore. Y/n looked exhausted, tired in more than one way, she looked like she was barely grasping onto the joy she had before.

Jungkook shot a worried text to Yoongi, who was more knowledgeable in this type of situation, as he had been through it multiple times himself. He’d assured him that he’d see if he could help, but that she may not want their help, she may want to deal with it on her own. Jungkook’s eyes continuously flicked over to Y/n’s small form in the corner throughout his workout, the way she wasn’t fidgeting or watching him at all like usual, and when they left, the way her hand felt limp in his and how she hadn’t fallen asleep in the car.

He felt helpless, and Y/n felt numb. She was just having a really low day, she was sure of it and being with him was making it slightly better even if it didn’t seem like it.

“So what piercing are we doing today kitten” - Time seemed to have blurred together until she was back in the moment, she was at the gym and now she was infront of Yoongi? She knew she had to of been responding but it all felt out of place, she felt out of her own body and she almost looked at him confused, mouth open to respond but nothing falling out for a moment, eyebrows furrowing.

“My bellybutton” - Yoongi was observing her with soft eyes, everything in him screaming to protect her from anything and everything, to just wrap her up and tell her he has her that it’s going to be okay. But instead, he just hummed and pulled out the jewellery options.

“Do you just have your first set on your lobes done? Or anywhere else?” - Y/n shook her head, only having the one pair on her ears, skimming over the options for jewellery infront of her. A pretty silver bar with a crystal on each end was the most appealing to her, Yoongi knew she’d pick that one too.

“When did you decide you wanted it kitten?” - Yoongi kept looking over as he was setting up, getting out the needle and such.

“A few days ago, I thought a change might be nice” - Yoongi hummed in response, getting out a pen for mark-up. While maybe he didn’t agree at this being the best form of change for her to seek out, he didn’t want to interfere because unlike a tattoo, this would heal and disappear if she really wanted it too. Y/n felt disappointed that she hadn’t even taken in the studio when she was coming in, she’d never been here before but Yoongi’s room seemed to fit him, simple and dark but with touches of him everywhere. There was a door to a small balcony as his room was upstairs too.

“Are you busy later?” - Yoongi’s question caught her by surprise, looking at him curiously before shaking her head no

“Come over, I’ve only got 2 appointments after this, I can come pick you up or you can wait here if you’d like” - Y/n’s expression lit up even just a little bit and Yoongi knew he was on the right track.

“I’d like that, I can wait here” - Yoongi gave her a gummy smile before standing up, pen in hand.

“Lift this up for me kitten” - Y/n obliged a bit more life in her eyes at the comforting prospect of spending time with anyone from the pack later, feeling already a bit better. She lifted up enough to see her bellybutton and nearly jumped out of her skin when Yoongi’s cold fingers gently traced over her bellybutton to see about placement. He only chuckled at her, letting her relax again before making the marking with the pen and asking her to check in the mirror.

“Lay down kitten, keep your hoodie up” - Yoongi moved his hands over Y/n’s stomach and maybe let them linger just a second longer than necessary before warning her that the clamp was cold and probably uncomfortable, Y/n didn’t mind much it wasn’t really that bad. It was only when the needle went through that she scrunched up her face, biting her lip from the slight pain while Yoongi shushed her small angry complaint with a laugh. He quickly finished up, pulling the jewellery through and fastening the ball on before reaching behind him and handing Y/n a lollipop he unwrapped for her. She looked at him in confusion but took it, purring at the sweet taste, her ears perking up just a little more. She loved how it looked in the mirror and it really did make her feel a change, maybe it was that or maybe it was going to their home later but she was feeling a bit better.

“It looks really pretty kitten, come on I’ll take you to our break room while you wait hm?” -Y/n followed him with a nod, having to hold herself back from touching the sore spot on her belly. He talked her through the aftercare and healing process until they were there and immediately Y/n found a corner with a beanbag that looked all too appealing. Yoongi didn’t wait long to catch her attention again though, putting a gentle hand on her back.

“I shouldn’t be too long okay? Help yourself to anything in here, me and kook are here if you need us” - And somehow, Y/n knew his last words had more than one meaning, one that made her feel understood and suddenly she found herself throwing herself at Yoongi, wrapping her arms around Yoongi and burying her face in his chest, he quickly reciprocated before thinking this would maybe be time for a little laugh

“Where’s my brat gone hm? Bring that attitude back kitten” - He got a sweet giggle in return and a bunch of muffled protests about how his brat was right here and he never wanted to let her go. Unfortunately he had to go and prepare for the next appointment so he let go, putting a kiss to Y/n’s head and lecturing her about not irritating her bellybutton, purposely trying to annoy her and succeeding as she rolled her eyes. When he was gone Y/n still felt happier than she had before, taking in the beanbag, her tiredness seemed to catch up with her, body telling her she can finally rest so she sunk into the comfy chair and pulled over the blanket she found ontop, nuzzling in until she was burrowed in the soft materials all around her and sinking into a sleep, surrounded by Jungkook and Yoongi’s scent.

Her sleep was sweet, it was how she slept when the bliss of being with them followed her into her sleep and she only wanted to feel like that forever. It hurt more to feel the way she had before now that she had something that took her away from that, that pain was unimaginable now. She savoured that small nap, purring away and her scent finally returning back to its full sweetness even just for a while, the dull ache in her bellybutton completely forgotten.

“I’ll take her home Kook, it’ll be okay” - Yoongi could feel the calm radiating off Y/n from his studio room, it was perfect but he knew that wasn’t the end of her sadness, all he did know was that a solution to it was them, his mates and he knew they’d give themselves, him included, to her forever if only she accepted it.

It wasn’t anything they’d seen on her before, it wasn’t anything they wanted to see on her again and if anyone knew how to turn that feeling into bliss even if only for a short while to go from low to high, it was Yoongi.

He made quick efforts to get Y/n into the car, only letting her get half awake before lulling her back into calm bliss with his scent, hand wrapped around her waist to help her to the car. He wanted her to sleep for a while so he just kept her in that half-asleep state until she was in his car, sending out another burst of his scent to push her into sleep, doing up her seatbelt for her and gently pushing the hair in her face behind her ears with a coo.

He repeated the process when they got to the apartment complex, settling her comfortably on the couch and letting her sleep as long as she needed. He didn’t know how long she had been struggling to sleep, if it was new or not but whether it was one time or continuous he wanted her to sleep as long as she wanted and needed. He settled her head over his thigh, throwing his favourite blanket over her and draping a hand over her head, gently pushing the hair out of her face again and looking at her with a sigh, wishing she never felt like she did.

———————————————————————————

Waking up was sweeter than it had been in a while, Y/n had slept without a single nightmare or waking up inbetween. In fact she didn’t want to wake up, she nuzzled back into the pillow under her head and brought her arms up to hold onto it too but somehow said pillow started to vibrate under her head and a laugh was heard above her, a hand gently petting her head. She subconsciously started to purr and opened her eyes with furrowed brows to find the pillow she was currently kneading, wasn’t exactly a pillow, she looked around sleepily and found Yoongi watching the tv and her breath caught in her throat. She had been kneading his thigh like a pillow and purring so loud against him and actually felt embarrassed, heat rising across her cheeks and she nearly shot up, her bliss cut off and a slight shame rising up in her as she tried to settle further away despite her hybrid screaming at her to stay close to stay put, making her ears, tail and hand twitch in his direction.

Yoongi couldn’t hold back his sad look at how she was restraining herself from comfort, from his care, she wouldn’t meet his eyes as she mumbled an apology. Oh how he wanted his little brat back. Her behaviour made something in him snap, his hybrid taking over and making him act purely out of instinct. Before he knew it, he was reaching over, wrapping firm hands around Y/n’s waist and placing her on his lap, holding her close and running his hands through her hair. His chest was rumbling In a soothing manner and his hand were firm, holding her as close as he could but being careful not to nudge her fresh piercing that he couldn’t wait to appreciate more.

Y/n’s breath and thoughts were caught in her throat before Yoongi’s scent and vibrating chest coursed over her and spoke millions of words. His cool body embraced her warm one and something in her flipped.

It’s okay. Safe here. Better here

And like that, her breathing started to rapidly increase, her hands that had fallen onto Yoongi’s chest gripped handfuls of his shirt and she pressed herself into him, a sudden sob coursing through her, followed by many more that had her crumbling into him while he held and soothed her, not saying a word, not forcing her to say a single thing. Those feelings she had been carrying for so long built up to now, she had only cried about it a few times before and never like this but Yoongi only held her tighter, he surrounded her in his scent and pulled the blanket around her, crowding her in safety and comfort.

When she started to calm down to silent tears and sniffles, she pulled back enough to look up at him in the eye, she found him already looking and his eyes spoke for him, it was okay, she didn’t have to speak didn’t have to think didn’t have to tell him a word, he understood, just let him comfort you, it’s okay now

One cold hand moved to meet Y/n’s face, gently wiping the tears off her face as the pair held their eye contact, Y/n’s own hands moved up, letting her instincts act for her as they trailed up and into Yoongi’s soft long hair, calming down just slightly and watching his expression as her fingers got closer to his ears just wanting to feel how soft they were and when he let her, her body melted against him, falling forward into his chest, head in the crook of his neck taking in his strong scent, the masculine and sharp tones soothing her mind.

Silence was appreciated for a while as Yoongi held Y/n close, stroking over her hair while Y/n stroked his ears. Her breathing had returned to normal when he picked up the remote next to him, finally deciding it was okay to try something.

“What was your favourite movie when you were younger kitten?” - Yoongi’s voice remained low and whispered into Y/n’s ear as he waited until her confused and quiet voice responded, not making any effort to move from his lap at all.

“The Aristocats” - That made Yoongi laugh, stroking over her scalp with one hand while the other found her childhood favourite movie. He dimmed the lights on his phone to make it better to watch and to ignore the light of the day, to hide the outside world

“Of course it was princess, my little kitten, let me guess, your favourite was the little white one with the pink bow and all the sass” - His tone was entirely teasing and while he couldn’t remember the cats name that he was describing he could remember her features and how she was strikingly similar to Y/n

“Marie! How did you know?” - Her voice had perked up and Y/n looked up at him from her position on his chest, her eyes were swollen and red, lips pouty and cheeks flushed, slightly stained by her tears but she looked as beautiful as ever. He gently pushed her hair behind her ear and got ready to press play on the movie, pulling the blanket back over her shoulders again and leaning back, getting them both comfortable before he answered.

“Just a hunch, maybe she reminds me of a certain brat” - Yoongi started to movie to cut off her offended protests, ignoring her punches against his chest and he just continued with “You know your sounding awfully similar right now” and that got her speechless, angrily huffing and all her feelings of the fast few days completely forgotten as she stubbornly settled back against his chest.

Y/n knew a lot of the lines by heart, especially Marie’s and some of her other favourite lines, quoting them as they came on and making Yoongi smile and laugh, sometimes disagreeing as he argued that she did indeed start fights. She sang along to some of the songs, kept making comments and silly comparisons to the boys with Yoongi who happily obliged with her thoughts and comments, even making a few starts of his own that had Y/n giggling.

“Kook was 100% Thomas O’Malley and you were Duchess when you first met” - Y/n’s laughter to that was infectious, resonating around the room as she agreed and they both knew their jokes about each of the boys and their correlation to the characters in different parts of the movie would 100% be something they’d bring up at random times while everyone else sat confused.

Yoongi found it so endearing how Y/n would make little comments to herself too, mumbling about how she wanted it to go even though she knew how it would turn out, pressing herself closer when she wanted something to go a certain way and when she was happy, kneading into his hair, she was warm against him again and seemed so happy it made his chest rumble, entirely pleased.

When the movie was coming to an end they had a short break to talk, a small gap while they came down from the giggles that the movie brought out.

“You should be here more often you know, it doesn’t feel right without you here” - Yoongi couldn’t hold back his longing any more so he just decided it was time to get it out, especially after today

“Your just saying that” - Y/n couldn’t help the doubt that came as she leant back to look into Yoongi’s eyes with uncertainty swirling through them

“No, you know it’s true kitten, you know that’s how we feel” - Yoongi had a hand placed on her cheek, stroking over it with love in his eyes, he had played nonchalant for all too long and right now he wanted to express how he really felt

“But-“

“Don’t but me, if you were here everyday we’d be so much happier you know” - The assurance in Yoongi’s voice was tempting and made Y/n shy as he shut down her doubts quicker than she could think.

“I am here often” - She did want to be here more often, her hybrid was screaming for her to be here all the time but she didn’t want to seem pushy.

“Not often enough” - Yoongi was adamant on that, certain as he held her gaze despite Y/n’s eyes trying to fleet away

“If I was here anymore I’d live here” - Y/n tried to add a bit of a laughs and humour to it, to make it seem like she wasn’t all that bothered but it didn’t help at Yoongi’s next words

“See that’s more like it, I like that idea better” - Y/n’s jaw dropped slightly before she shook herself out of it, trying to get over the purr that started to build at his words but he heard it, oh he heard it

“Don’t be silly Yoongi” - She pushed him lightly

“Do I seem like I’m joking?” - Yoongi’s face was serious, in a way that really made Y/n think, could it all really be true, could it all be so amazing and could I live in bliss everyday?

There was a few moments of silence where Yoongi could read her thoughts and took a breath in before continuing, crossing his fingers in his mind in hopes that she’d agree, he sounded breathless as he spoke, tail rigid behind him in anticipation and ears stiff

“Stay tonight” - Y/n’s eyes shot up to meet his, desperately wanting it but-

“You all have work tomorrow” - she tried to look away, to deny but Young could see her fighting herself

“And if you lived here we’d still have work tomorrow but it would just make our night and morning better”

“Yoongi don’t lie to me” - The pain in her voice was breaking Yoongi’s heart, where all this insecurity had come from was a mystery but he couldn’t sit with ir

“Have I done something to make you think I’m lying?”

“No but…” - Y/n couldn’t meet his eyes knowing the insecurity was entirely her own fault and the softness of his voice was making her melt

“Let us love you kitten” - Y/n’s breath hitched, tears threatening to well up again as he was practically giving all she ever wanted, she still wanted to be sure though

“But do you all really want that” - Y/n’s voice was so quiet it made Yoongi’s heart melt, holding her close for his next words

“More than anything and we won’t ever want anything else” - He didn’t let her interrupt before he carried on

“Let us be here, let us take care of you” - The tears that were threatening to well up had broken past their seal, Y/n’s hands holding onto Yoongi’s shirt again, gripping it as she wanted exactly that and though it was hard to admit, she wanted this loop to be over, for a new stone to be turned and they could give her that, and as Yoongi is so adamant, she could resist accepting

“I’d really like that”

“So would we, stay here for a few nights, feel it out” - Yoongi couldn’t hold back his gummy smile, his excitement as the prospect was just a dream coming true to him and it would be for his mates too,

“Okay, but only if I’m not disturbing anyone”

“You would never” - Yoongi held her close before continuing “Let us make you feel alive kitten”

And like that her dimming spark seemed to come back because there’s nothing more intimate in life than simply being understood and Yoongi’s gaze told her he did, they understood.

And maybe her new piercing today really had marked that change as one of Y/ns hand sought it out with a smile she couldn’t hold back, silently thanking everyone and everything before she threw herself back into Yoongi’s arms, close and buried her face in his neck taking a deep inhale and giggling happily. Sitting back for a moment she watched the happiness take over Yoongi’s eyes and knew the same was in her own and she’d learnt today that maybe it was better to let her instincts take over.

So that’s exactly what she did, letting her hybrid take over, her gaze caught onto Yoongi’s soft lips and she didn’t even think before leaning forward, hands embedding back in Yoongi’s hair and placing a soft kiss to Yoongi’s lips, it took him a split second to process, the taste invading his mouth, the gloriously soft lips against his and Y/n’s warmth, it was all so much but his hands pulled her in close by her waist, revelling in her sweet taste and actions and trying to hold back a proud growl, a happy growl but his efforts went to waste when Y/n began to purr and made a small sound against his lips, coercing his own noises to leave him. He’d worried she would perhaps move away at the sound but instead she shuddered, tightening her hands in his scalp and melted into his embrace, happily purring as she let him take the dominating role easily.

The kiss was short and sweet, not even enough to have either of their lips swollen or the slightest bit redder but they were both almost panting as they pulled away purely from the intensity of the moment; currents were flowing through them rapidly and without giving them a second to breath, it was electrifying and new. They were speaking millions of words between them with only their eyes while Yoongi adjusted them to sit more comfortably, more relaxed and pulling Y/n to sit sideways making sure Y/ns thighs weren’t hurting, he was surprised how long she’d sat straddling him, it made some less than appropriate thoughts fill his head about ridin- that’s for another time.

“Can we watch the rescuers? It was my second favourite” - Y/n’s voice was sweet and low and Yoongi immediately obliged, pulling a blanket over the two and dimming the lights on his phone again. It was once they got comfy and the intro had began that the front door opened and closed. Signalling someone’s arrival, a combination of wood, vanilla and citrus followed by a fresh, fig and wood scent filling up the home, clearly two people but Y/n would of had to lean over Yoongi’s shoulder to look at who it was and she was far too comfortable for that, so she simply relaxed, wiggling to snuggle herself closer and sighing happily when she felt something cold and metal on the side of her face.

Y/n completely forgot about the arrival of other people when her hand reached up, wrapping around Yoongi’s chain that was dangling in her face and tracing it with awe, her head filling with less than innocent thoughts about how much it suited him and how much she liked it on him. It was hanging in her face and felt so nice against her warm skin, it was heavy too, definitely expensive and ontop of Yoongi’s black shirt it stood out making him look ridiculously handsome and attractive. He really looked like the human embodiment of a black panther, even if he didn’t have the long tail and sleek ears, it made Y/n shudder and purr, subconsciously submitting to him and leaning in close loving how much bigger he was than her. Her staring was interrupted by Yoongi’s whispers into her ear, moving and making the chain hit her hand more

“If you like it I’ll get you one to match” - unfortunately before she could respond after having her breath hitch and skin flood with warmth, the new arrivals began speaking to Yoongi, not seeing her and realising she was even here yet.

“Yoongi you got to see Y/n today? Kook said she got a piercing” - Jin’s smooth voice got closer as he looked at the man with his back facing him, unaware of Y/n on his lap.

“What piercing did she get? I thought she only had her firsts on her ears done?” - Hoseoks voice followed, both slowly getting closer and when Yoongi turned to look at them with an amused expression, he nudged Y/n in his arms up to look at them

“Why don’t you ask her yourself” - Something about his tone made Y/n curl back into his chest, suddenly shy and burying her face into his neck to hide herself despite the two men slowly getting closer in awe and cooing at her.

“What a nice surprise, beautiful” - Jin made sure she could hear he meant it as he got closer enough, planting a kiss to Yoongi’s head and gently stroking through Y/ns hair, his hands were cold from being outside and made her shiver, still refusing to move out of Yoongi’s comforting strong scent, just wrapping herself in it and squirming to be as close as possible, eyes and mind growing hazy in a scent high.

“Hi pretty kitty, why don’t you show us your new piercing?” - Hoseok dressed her this time, tone soft and relaxing, his hand moving to gently stroke her back and coercing her out of Yoongi’s neck. Y/n’s slowly moved back and got off Yoongi’s lap, sporting a small pout when she no longer felt surrounded in his scent. The two men looked at her with admiration and watched as she refused to meet their eyes and lifted her hoodie up above her bellybutton and listened to the two men’s gasping awes and coos.

“It suits you so much beautiful, I hope it didn’t hurt too much hm?” - Jin gently walked closer to get a better look, leaning down to get more level with her. It just made her feel smaller but she wasn’t opposed to the feeling, having him so close and taking him in made her stutter, he was too handsome for his own good and she stumbled over her words, shifting from leg to leg as she didn’t know how to answer.

“Don’t get all shy on us now, you’ve been cuddling into my lap for the past few hours kitten” - And with that, Y/n was spinning her body back to Yoongi with an angry hiss, offended that he’d reveal such a thing. While she was entirely focused on Yoongi again, she failed to notice that her challenging action also made Hoseok tense, eyes hardening for a moment as he watched the exchange, trying to hold back his own growl in retaliation.

“And the little brats back, go on then kitten” - Yoongi watched her with a relaxed expression, leaning back into the couch, happy to have the playful Y/n back and letting her act as he wanted too. His methods of putting her into place were for another time, they were slow but unexpected and entirely different from, say, Hoseok. The other two just stood amused and waiting for Y/n’s action; of course they’d heard the stories of how she’d act around Yoongi but hadn’t been around as much to actually experience it first hand. All three men looked at the way Y/n’s fists balled up and her eyebrows furrowed as he challenged her to act, she should have stood down but she couldn’t.

Somehow he always knew how to make her wound up, her fangs and claws feeling all too sharp for her again, itching to bite and grip and she fidgeted uncomfortably before taking a deep breath and huffing out, looking away and finally deciding to try and just give up, key word try.

“Wow, have you finally decided you can’t take me kitten?” - Yoongi was teasing and chuckling as he leant forward, observing her just to see if she’d still react but he saw her eyebrows furrow again as she resumed to look his way, huffing and crossing her arms stubbornly before she started to mutter under her breath thinking he couldn’t hear

“I could totally take you if I wanted to…” - Y/n’s voice was low and she was certain no one heard until she realised the two men who had most recently joined them were a whole lot closer than Yoongi was, both of them bursting out laughing as if it was the funniest thing they had ever heard.

“Honey- He’s like twice the size of you- you couldn’t take him if you tried” - Hoseok found it quite amusing and watched Y/n’s face drop and growing slightly red at the possible implication behind the words even though she was talking about fighting before she tried to push away her inappropriate thoughts and turned her face into an angry scowl suddenly feeling very hostile overall and just as she was about to send a hiss Hoseoks way, Yoongi pretty much saved her.

“Come over here kitten” - His words caught her attention and without thinking she walked right up to him where he sat, toe to toe and suddenly he was standing up, nearly touching her with his front but what got her attention was that as he stood she kept having to look up and up until he was at his full height, suddenly shrinking in on herself, ears pulling back just slightly as their words seemed all too true now, he really did seem twice her size even if it was an exaggeration.

“Still agree that you’d win?” - his voice was husky and made Y/n shiver and threaten to let out a purr at the same time, she reluctantly shook her head no, seeming to fight it before she did so, she refused to look into his eyes again. But she wasn’t done because being so close she could see all the unmarked skin of Yoongi’s arms and it looked all too appealing to her. Unfortunately for her, her tail gave her away quicker than she could act and as soon as it started to swing and her eyes dilated on her focus, Yoongi just watched as Hoseok stepped forward, quickly grabbing Y/n and trapping her in his arms, unable to lean in to bite nor to scratch and she simply squirmed and stomped her feet trying to get out of his grasp.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you kitty, didn’t Jimin tell you something about asking nicely?” - Hoseok whispered into her ear and had her stilling, ears flattening for a moment as she finally looked up to Yoongi, his eyes were predatory, taking in her every action and watching as Y/n open and closed her mouth, swallowing as saliva built up from the need to bite down on something, on him and he could see the frustration building on her face from her need.

“Please” - Y/n pleaded, voice quiet as she kept having to swallow and run her tongue over the sharp tips of her fangs as they grew sensitive and her instincts desperate. Yoongi cooed at her for finally giving in, reaching forward and pulling her from Hoseoks grip into his own chest and in the process, twisting one arm up, putting his wrist infront of Y/n’s lips and holding her in tight, almost shielding her from anyone around.

“Go on, it’s okay kitten” - So she did, she bit down on the scent gland in his wrists and instantly his scent flooded her mouth, turning into taste even though she hadn’t bit down hard enough to break skin, just enough to scratch and leave imprints, she was certain had she not have been stopped she would have sunk in her teeth as much as possible but this was all she needed. The taste made her feel weak, knees wobbling to the point where she would have fell if Yoongi didn’t have such a tight hold on her, he was praising and shushing her small whimpers, cooing at her softly when she licked over the imprints to soothe them. Her eyes were nearly closed, head heavy as she purred and let Yoongi love her around until she was sitting on his lap again, this time facing outwards to face the other two men who had watched the exchange with a variety of emotions.

“How about you show Hobi your piercing now, he didn’t get to see before” - Yoongi’s words were all she needed to grab at the bottom of her hoodie again, leaning back into his chest to make it visible and holding the hoodie above her bellybutton showing off the shiny bar amongst her soft skin.

“Now that’s pretty isn’t it, I’ll have to find you lots of pretty jewellery for when it’s healed” - Hobi crouched infront of her, getting close to the area, enough that she could very lightly feel his breath over her middle and it made her skin shoot up in goosebumps. For some reason, she could feel herself subconsciously arch her back just a little to get a little closer and it had Hoseok smiling at her before putting one hand on her lower stomach, covering a large chunk of it and pressing her back down, the touch making her shudder and she was partially satisfied at the touch.

“Aish- Look at what you two are doing to her, come here beautiful before they taint you forever” - Jin called her over to the different couch and she happily came over giggling to herself and leaning into his side while the other two protested.

“Now. What are we watching?” - The three men sat down and watched the movie with her happily, not questioning her choice for even a second doing the same thing her and Yoongi had done throughout the artisocats, making silly comments and comparisons throughout. Y/n had gotten progressively more comfortable the movie, practically on Jin’s lap as she cuddled up to him so close. He held her just as close, running his hands through her hair and making little jokes to her. Yoongi had fallen asleep at some point and Y/n found herself laughing wanting to tease him in his sleep like letting her tail tickle him and brushing her hands over his ears but Jin held her in place so unfortunately she couldn’t do so.

When it came to an end, it seemed Yoongi had told Hoseok that Y/n would be staying for a while because he turned to her and started to speak.

“How about one of us take you to get some clothes to bring back here? And anything else you need of course” - Hoseok asked the happy hybrid curled up to Jin so she turned over to him, nodding happily before following up with a few words

“If it isn’t too much trouble?” - both awake men just shushed her as they tell her it wasn’t at all and Jin decided he’d take her. They got ready and Jin helped her into his car, doing her seatbelt and being careful of her new piercing, making their way to her apartment before they got to the door and Jin was hit with the full force of Y/n’s sweet and dizzying scent again. Having to take a moment before Y/n started to rapidly move around mumbling about not wanting to take too long.

“Do you need any help, beautiful?” - Jin gently slowed Y/n by putting his hands on her shoulders and keeping her in place for a moment

“Could you maybe get the fluffy white blanket from the couch and then I’m going to get some bags- and then do my clothes-“ - Y/n started to let her mind race again before Jin nodded and quickly gathered the blanket, following behind her to her bedroom where she pulled out a large bag, gently taking the blanket from Jin and putting it inside. Her gentleness only lasted for a moment before she started to rush around again, she struggled though as her mind worked faster than her body and lead her to still, eyes fleeting around to wonder where to go first. Jin came up, hands on her waist grounding her and speaking gently again.

“Let’s start with pajamas, how about 3 sets of pajamas for now?” - Y/n nodded and went towards her pajama drawer, still so many options

“One Long set and one short set and then whatever your pick is for the third beautiful” - So she did as he told her, picking up a shorts and tank top set and a t-shirt and long bottoms set and finally a nightdress that was soft and loose, silk and soothing on her skin, it was her favourite thing to sleep in even if it was a bit short, she might be sleeping on her own and she’d 100% wear it if that was the case. She handed them to Jin who folded and packed before ordering her to pick up 4 outfits, two lounge and two incase she goes out, a sweater even though she could steal any of the boys’ and her slippers. He made sure she picked up any toiletries she needed and let her pack her own bras and panties which she did with a blush, regularly checking he wasn’t looking but of course he wouldn’t.

“Is that everything beautiful?” - Y/n nodded and zipped up the bag, it was enough for a few days and as she was about to pick up the bag it was snatched out of reach by Jin and she was ushered to the door. Maybe she was just anxious about staying for so long or maybe it was excitement, no, it was definitely excitement and it was leading her to overthink about all her outfit choices a little bit.

“Would you prefer to sleep in your own room beautiful?” - Jin asked while they walked out of her apartment and Y/n bit her lip because her night with the 3 youngest had been the best sleep she ever had and she wanted that forever but didn’t want to seem pushy.

“I know 7 clingy hybrids who would be more than happy to be considered to be with you if not” - Jin laughed and gently nudged her to encourage her to speak, seeing her internal battle.

“Jinnie? Can- Can I maybe stay with you tonight?” - Jin’s reaction to her was to initially stand frozen for a moment but he picked up his expression quickly; reassuring her hesitant expression

“You can stay with me anytime beautiful but sometimes one or two of the boys decide to join me, I can tell them not tonight though”

“Nono- that’s okay I don’t mind, just like being with you” - In Y/n’s eyes, Jin had always had this gentle, soft look to him but upon first meeting he was entirely intimidatingly godlike. That didn’t really change but the way he looked at her always screamed something entirely different to intimidating, it was comforting. But then Y/n thought back to Namjoons words about their hierarchy, how Jin was just below him, their pack leader. That made it make sense a bit more when Y/n captured Jin’s eyes flash to something darker, more in tune with how Hoseok always seemed to her, they flickered back to that soft look but just a glance of that hard, domineering gaze had Y/n shuddering and going pink.

From that moment on, Jin felt a strong need to be close to Y/n, the way she admitted wanting to be with him, requesting it specifically, made something deep in him rise with pride. His arm wrapped around her waist in a way that allowed her to move away if she’d wanted to but instead, Y/n leant into his warm embrace, purring quietly as they walked to the car, she even brought her hands up to rest on his chest, glueing herself close.

The two were glued to eachother for a while even after they got back to the packs home, it felt natural to watch everyone eventually come home and move around like Y/n was always there, it put an ease in her body. Time seemed to move fast and she moved with it, enjoying every second and savouring it all. She was sat with an almost lovestruck look on her face for hours, the men around her looked at her with curiosity before checking in just to find she was perfectly happy.

———————————————————————————

Y/n hadn’t seen Jimin in a while and everyone else was in the living room so she made it her mission to find him and drag him back, with that she teetered off to his room and through the door could hear some music playing, not overly loud but enough so that it resonated around the room. Y/n could hear shuffling and Jimins voice going along with the song so she knocked on the door, getting no answer, knocking 3 more times before slightly opening the door, peeking in just a little incase she needed to retreat fast. Jimin was folding clothes and dancing to the music playing, singing along gently and seemingly having the time of his life so Y/n deemed it okay to come in, simply admiring him from the door for a while before he noticed she was there.

When he did notice, it was Y/n who spoke first with a look of admiration

“I didn’t know you could dance” - his dance wasn’t choreographed but it was smooth and he embedded moves that showed experience, truthfully it was mesmerising, he looked unreal, like an angel.

“Just a hobby when I get the chance” - Jimin was slightly pink with embarrassment at being caught but his euphoric look didn’t go away, he was still happy as ever, body softly swaying to the music still.

“I wish I could dance like that” - Y/n just looked at him with adoration, thinking about all his talents

“Everyone can dance baby” - Jimin was certain of that, brushing away her comment

“Not everyone and definitely not like that” - Y/n said it with a playful smile, wiggling her eyebrows at him to further show her compliments

“You’ll have to prove it, dance with me” - Jimin quickly grabbed a remote, making the music slightly louder, the lights dimmer and strode confidently towards her.

“I really can’t d- Jimin!-“ - Y/n was cut off as Jimin grabbed her by her waist and pulled her into the middle of the room, a cheeky smile over his face

“Stop thinking so much, just listen” - He’d shushed her and started to move his body, his hips gracefully swaying as the hands on Y/n’s hips encouraged her to do the same. She was stiff, definitely awkward and clumsy, hyper aware of her every move. She was internally cringing at her awkward movements and trying to protest consistently but kept being shushed by Jimin until she gave up.

“Just feel it, stop all those thoughts” - Jimin grabbed one of her hands, draping it over his chest and encouraging her to move it, getting closer and moving more insistently himself. It felt silly to try to dance like this when Y/n was wearing her pajamas that she’d changed into while Jimin was in an all white, top and baggy trousers that made him look like an angel, the way he wanted her to dance is how you imagine too in a club. That didn’t stop him from keeping her dancing though.

Getting more confident seemed to get easier after a minute, the twos joint giggling and jokes pushing away the awkwardness Y/n initially felt until she was confident enough to push further. Her hand pushed firmer onto Jimins chest, looking into his eyes for reassurance before she dragged them up and down, exploring the toned torso over his clothes and Jimin did the same, trailing his hands up her sides and back.

Looking up made Y/n’s thoughts stop, staring deep into Jimins eyes while he did the same; all their giggling had stopped, their smiles hadn’t however, breathing heavier than before and slowly leaning in subconsciously. The atmosphere grew thick and intoxicating, music seeming to get louder and surroundings drowning out as all they could focus on was eachother. Y/n started to copy Jimins movements, less hesitant than before, rolling her body with his and swaying her hips until they were chest to chest and Jimin was leaning down, face close and body still rolling.

It was euphoric, the way they felt free and in their own world, dancing with eachother and letting their thoughts leave. Their hands trailed all over eachother, electricity coursing through them as their fronts kept connecting. As a more upbeat song came on Jimin pulled away slightly, bouncing with his previous movements and encouraging Y/n to do the same, they moved from close to further away, hands all over eachother to spinning out from eachother. Jimin occasionally spun Y/n on the spot or spun her until she was dancing with her back towards him and her head turned to look at him.

Y/n had never ever been one to think she could dance or even be comfortable just doing that jumping kind of dancing but in this moment she was having the time of her life, jumping around, swaying her hips, running her hands up herself and flipping her hair as she moved her head.

It was fun, she was spinning out from laughing and twirling in Jimins hold to pulling out until just their hands were touching. Going from being flush against eachother with their arms around eachother to feeling too far and pulling Jimin in by his shirt, leaning her head to the ceiling in laughter and letting him guide her movements or feeling herself and throwing her hands in her hair.

Every breath got heavier, smile got wider and touches got more daring, following along with the music. How is Jimin so perfect. When Y/n’s eyes weren’t closed she was taking in the beautiful man infront of her, that smelled amazing and had his hands all over her waist, who was looking at her like she was the only girl in the world.

Every time Jimin pulled Y/n in by her waist had her giggling, moving her just infront of him or up against him wether it was her front of her back, him doing the same at her pulling him by his shirt, it built up Y/n’s comfortability and confidence more than he’d ever know, even such a simple thing.

It gave Y/n the confidence to be more daring as an instrumental part of a song came on, just adding to that closed atmosphere they were embedded in. Y/n felt her eyes dilate, grabbing Jimins shirt and pulling him close until she could wrap her one of her arms around his neck, pulling him against her while he tilted his head down to her face, feeling her roll and grind her body against him. It made Jimins breath hitch and mouth dry as Y/n trailed her hands up his chest, lightly tugging on his hair and teasing as his ears all while grinding her body against him, even as he reciprocated. His hands trailed all over her tight pyjama tank top, keeping her in close until his nose was pressed against her cheek and vice versa. Their breathing was heavy, bodies hot and electric with every touch.

But Jimin would always be a tease, and while Y/n had the upper hand of surprise in that moment, he wouldn’t let that go for a second longer so while he kept dancing against her, he trailed his whole body down, dragging his nose and heavy warm breathing from Y/n’s cheek down her neck, down her chest while she rolled her body and gasped in surprise, right down to her waist where her top ended, nosing at the slither of skin exposed on her lower stomach, his hot breath making her shudder as she could feel it through the low band of her pyjama pants. Y/n was twitching with pleasure at the light but clear touches, gripping at his soft hair while Jimin’s eyes were trying not to roll back into his head from Y/n scent right at his nose, trailing back up until he was standing again, leaning down to rest against Y/n’s cheeks again.

They were intoxicated by eachother, high off the feeling, euphoric from the atmosphere, laughing at nothing and leaning their noses on eachother, barely breaking eye contact, dancing through each song. Time moved without their knowledge, Y/n initial task completely forgotten and suddenly, Jimins scent seemed all too appealing. His tongue slipping over his plump lips finally making Y/n break eye contact before she let her body act, leaning in and connecting their lips eagerly, bodies hot and moving against each other. Despite being hot and moving their bodies feverishly, their kiss was gentle, slowly moving from a soft peck to a battle of tongues, hands still roaming each others body, Y/n’s pulling at Jimins hair and Jimins squeezing all Y/n’s sides, thighs to hips to waist.

They only pulled away at an amused chuckle from the door, speaking distantly about them coming for dinner but it barely registered as the two starred into each others eyes with wide smiles, panting and gripping onto each other.

Living a little does feel so good

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading! This chapter is a bit different to the others so far, it explores Y/n before the boys a bit more and im not sure if it all flows well so do let me know if any parts are confusing or don’t add up! Let me know what you think and my asks are open for drabbles and character asks 💖💖

ཐི♡ཋྀ

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If you requested to be tagged and aren’t here i can’t tag you 💖 it might be to do with your settings so just remind me for next chapter and have a little look in your settings x

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drdemonprince · 9 months ago

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all the recent talk about not voting has me a bit worried, for lack of a better word.

on one hand, yes so much yes, stop throwing all your time and energy in the insatiable maw of electoral politics, 5/5, no notes.

but on the other hand, where does that time and energy go then? despite lots of talk about mutual aid it doesn't seem to progress much beyond the abstract (at least in the various leftist groups/communities/etc. in my neck of the woods). it's held up as an ideal and great big important thing, but when there's shit that needs doing, it's *crickets*.

maybe it's because so much mutual aid is care work and thus, and i very much disagree with even though i care not for the label, not real activism i guess? like, a while ago a disabled comrade had ran into housing issues because of their illness, so we rustled up some folks to help clean and unfuck their home. which, yet again, were the same (also disabled) people that always show for those things.

coming of four years and counting of pandemic, that's been a consistent pattern. at a time where mutual aid was so needed, such a vacuum left by a state that didn't and/or wanted to do shit, it still fell on the shoulders of disabled people to do all the actual work while the rest just talked about abstract shit. or, to name another thing, diy hrt initiative where it's just a bunch of poor ass trans people scrounging up money to pay for supplies for trans people who have fuck all access, while the rest debates in the abstract about a more better system or whether it's even something they need to concern themselves about.

and like, yes, not pissing away your energy pleading with assholes who don't give a fuck about you is good, but it should only be the start. it sometimes feels like the big plan is: 1) not vote, 2) ???, 3) glorious anarchism/communism/mutual-aidism. i'm not arguing that they need to have it all worked out, but with so much shit that needs doing in the here and now i get a little worried. because that's going to take real work, not talk, and they're not putting in any of it.

I mean, most people won't do (what gets viewed as) "real activism" either. They don't go to protests, smash windows, call jails to check on the status of incarcerated people, cut supply lines, or anything else. And they don't vote either.

We live in a highly individualistic, atomized society filled with people who have been conditioned into an abiding self-interested apathy, and everyone is overworked and broke as shit and juggling a bunch of disabilities while not having any experience with building genuine community and lacking most of the infrastructural and social tools to do so. The number of people who are avowed leftists is vanishingly small, and among them the people who actually walk the talk or have the education and community ties to even be able to is even smaller. Not disagreeing with your read of the situations you're dealing with here, just putting them within the broader context of many very similar problems that I see touch every single aspect of organizing today. even like the most tepid liberal get out the vote kind of organizing is plagued by this, and of course that is by design.

What gives me hope in the present moment is just how many people are completely fucking done with the prevailing system, and how many are refusing to play along with its rules. A lot of the people who aren't voting are not leftists. At least not yet. Just like many of the people who are quiet quitting and half-assing it at work or just vibing on unemployment for as long as they can are not communists. But they do know that the system is bunk and is failing them, and they are refusing to be compliant within it any longer. I believe that a lot of people's better natures do get inspired during a moment of collapse. I also think there is a profound rot at the heart of settler-colonial states that fills them with people who do not recognize themselves as having any responsibility to others. That's all the more reason for such an empire to fall.

I think you're right to worry for the future, though I don't think the reason to be worried is as simple as people not people caring about disabled folks, or any other group. I always wonder who the mythical abled people are who are abnegating their duty in such an understanding of the world. I sure haven't met any of them. I only meet people who are also disabled and don't realize it.

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vesanal · 2 months ago

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₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊The 23rd Day of Writemas₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Holy crap, 23! 23(really 21) days that I stayed consistent on and delivered a new piece of writing to all of y’all. Wow! That’s absolutely crazy to think about. It’s truly a wonder that I even stuck to it after a week. I might’ve skipped a few days but I always delivered something, and I just think there's just something so beautiful about that. Like, I can't even right now. Once again, thank you so much to our amazing host of the event, @agirlandherquill!! This has been one of the most fun things I have done with my writing so far, thank you! Let’s get onto this! Here you can find the invitation post and here you can find the prompts for today! Now onto one of the last two writemasses for the year :(

Prompts used:

Dialogue: "One day, the purpose you serve shall be greater than this." + "Darkness exists without the light, but the light needs darkness to shine, light relies on another, but the dark stands alone."

Setting: The charm of a smile

I have missed Perci so much after the half a week(ish) that I haven’t written for him…so here he is back again! Genuinely, I enjoy writing in his POV a lot. Not that I pick favorites or anything. He’s just so interesting!!

Read about the WIP here!!

Hope y’all enjoy!

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So many people. All in one room. Each head being another soldier shoved into the castle room. All were there for one purpose, hearing all about the announcement the glorious Queen had made to them. Every face was in complete shock at the horrors that were just revealed to them. It was official. He was back. The Bone-Binder was behind all of the disappearances and dead set in his way to get more, to get whatever he wanted. That part Perci did not know. But the numerous possible motives alone made his knees start to give out. He desperately tried to digest the information all at once without fainting.

Beside Perci, was a Queensman, the one that he had been placed under, referred to only by his title and family name. The man stood tall and firm over him, solemnly Based on his lack of reaction to the news, Perci knew that he had already been debriefed on the news beforehand. Way before any of the younger and much more lower ranked soldiers in the Queen’s army got wind of this.

Perci turned all the way around to face the imposing man to ask him a question, trying to keep loud and clear to not reveal his immense fear that wracked his brain, “Sir, what’s going to happen? I thought we were at peace? What happened to the covenant? Are we doomed?”

The Queensman shifted his gaze down from his mighty, armor-clad self and looked at Perci right between the scarlet eyes placed on his panicked face to speak to him, "The man was not put out by the covenant, unfortunately. Darkness exists without the light, but the light needs darkness to shine, light relies on another, but the dark stands alone. That is why he is back."

”What do you mean, Queensman Hyde, sir? How much danger are we in? How much danger is Pytharios in? You must know, sir!” Perci fumbled out of his mouth, more fearful in this moment than ever before.

“I cannot speak everything I know. Nor can I know everything to speak on. But, danger is always present, even if we cannot see it always. But, it is more present now, more than ever before. We must do what we have to do to stop the darkness from taking over the land. And before it takes all of the good people who just want to survive. Even if we can’t prevent it all. We must fight like we don’t have a home to go back to, with tooth and nail, because if we don’t there won't be.”

Perci swallowed his response. He was right. There was no point in refuting it. It was all said and done, they were the ones who had to protect the people. He had to do what he must, and use his talents for the greater benefit of Pytharios, to outshine the darkness. Even if he…Perci closed his eyes and shook the thought out of his head. He must not think about such things right now.

"One day, the purpose you serve shall be greater than this." Perci whispered under his breath to himself, not really ever knowing when and if it’ll ever come. If only there was another way to have his talents be heard and used, and not just in some war.

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(PLEASE tell me if you wanna get added to a tag list here because I genuinely don't know who to tag lol. I'll edit this and add you in!! <3 )

TAGLIST SO FAR: @sunflowerrosy @seastarblue

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Our wonderful host <3 → @agirlandherquill Have a lovely day everyone!!

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cheerycherrycandy-resurrected · 10 months ago

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What You've Done, You Cannot Undo (Medieval AU)

Chapter 3

Dew feels guilty, Rain screws up.

Rating: M now, to be safe Content: side character death, minor descriptions of violence, flashbacks, peril Words: 2253

Link to all chapters with associated tags: Tumblr | AO3

hi hi @revengeghoulette here's your alert! and @everybodyshusband you seemed very keen haha!

Read below, or on AO3!

Dew stomped along the path surrounding their fields. The warm sun overhead taunted him, it's rays full of promise and life while he felt only cold and empty inside. He knew he'd been too harsh on Rain, deep down, but he'd have to be threatened with banishment to the pit to admit that. Dewdrop refused to allow himself to feel guilty; that was a slippery slope of self-hatred he knew he wouldn't be able to crawl back up from. He knew he could be short-tempered, and he harboured enough resentment of his own that it was bound to overflow into his actions.

Rain seemed to have had things so much easier than him though, it wasn't fair. From the day he arrived he had bonded with the others in a way Dew had struggled to. They would chitter and purr at Rain for the slightest thing, whereas they had remained suspicious of him for ages. Dew was self-aware enough however to realize that he hadn't helped his case by hissing and growling at his packmates for the smallest thing.

That didn't mean it didn't hurt. Rain got a lot of leeway for being young, the others quick to write off his transgressions as ignorance rather than malice, but they forgot Dew was young too. Despite presenting himself as world-wise and experienced, he was closer in age to Rain than he was to any of the rest of his packmates. He'd worked hard to rewrite his time before Aether and Mountain found him, both the most difficult and most sheltered parts, but he couldn't erase their impact.

He continued his mission uphill, to the base of a large oak tree that overlooked their whole farm and surrounding area. Smoke curled from the chimneys of houses in the village in the distance, and a multicoloured patchwork of fields spread out around them. Following the path in the opposite direction, Dew could just make out the dark speck of Rain walking to Farmer Wilkins’. He was stubborn, not taking Dew's constant snipes to heart, Dew had to grudgingly respect that. He watched until Rain turned a corner and was lost from sight.

~~~~~~~

On the walk over, Rain was also enjoying the warm weather as he followed the stream. There was barely a cloud in the sky, the open blue expanse painted with faint white wisps reached as far as the eye could see. Rain could see why his help was needed: the summer had stretched on for several glorious months, and the ground beneath his feet was showing signs of cracking from lack of rainfall. A gentle breeze worked to sweep the cobwebs that still clung tightly to his dream and Dew's comments from his mind.

Arriving at the farm with sweat beginning to bead on his forehead from the heat, Rain was greeted by Farmer Wilkins, sat out on his porch. He was a jovial man, round and ruddy faced, with a vigour for life that defied his advancing age. Rain didn't know him well, but he was a regular down at the village tavern and always had a spare word or smile for Swiss when he passed by.

“Good mornin’, Rain! I didn’t expect to see you so soon, please, sit down. My daughter Marina’s preparing some elderflower cordial against this hot weather. We can wait ‘til you’re rested to begin!”

Rain awkwardly accepted the proffered seat on the porch bench, glad for the shaded spot after the heat of his walk. He heard light footsteps approaching, and looked up to see a young woman emerge from the cottage holding a tray of glasses and a jug of pale liquid.

Her dark hair fluttered around her pretty face in the breeze, and Rain gasped feeling as though he’d been shot in the chest: she was the spitting image of his childhood sweetheart. From the gentle wave in her ebony hair to the asymmetric dimples in her cheeks as she smiled at him in greeting, they could have been twins if not for her obvious humanity.

Noticing Rain’s slack-jawed stare, the farmer chuckled good-naturedly.

“Quite a looker, ain’t she Son! Don’t be getting any funny ideas, she’s engaged to the lad down the road. Childhood sweethearts, they were!”

Rain was struck by the similarities to his own previous life. In another world, his water ghoulette’s father could have spoken of him like that. Instead, Rain had the distinct impression that he had been glad to see Rain leave.

Feeling as though he was watching himself behind glass, Rain accepted a drink with shaky hands. Marina rolled her eyes at his stuttered thanks, but smiled kindly at him as she headed back inside. Luckily, the farmer seemed happy to keep the conversation moving all by himself, leaving Rain to nod in what he hoped were the appropriate places. He sipped his drink in an attempt to replace the moisture in his mouth, which was now as dry as sand. Moving his limbs to raise the glass, Rain felt like he was pulling at the strings of a marionette puppet.

Once Farmer Wilkins had exhausted his supply of one-sided small talk, the pair headed out to the fields, beginning with the one closest behind the house. Here, the corn grew luscious and tall: Mountain did a stellar job encouraging the crop earlier in the season. Rain had tagged along that day, watching as Mountain pressed his palms to the ground to imbue it with his own magical energy.

Now Rain stood in the field without the earth ghoul by his shoulder, feeling alone and detached. He sensed the eager eyes of the farmer watching him, the intense interest making Rain’s knees begin to tremble anxiously. He took a deep breath, and copied what he had done before with Mountain, what he had seen and heard Aether do a hundred times.

Raising his arms out in front of him, palms to the sky, Rain closed his eyes and called out,

“Ancient Spirits! Bless this land, that it be free from drought and pestilence.” he swept his arms around a bit, then turned his palms to the ground. “Gracious Earth, protect these bountiful crops so they may feed us another year.”

Rain winced at how fake it all felt, like he was just going through the motions, and the flowery language rang false in his ears. He cracked his eyes open and saw the farmer – along with half a dozen or so curious farmhands who had downed tools to stare – watching in barely concealed fascination. He squeezed his eyes shut again, waved his arms around a final time in what he hoped was a convincing manner, and went silent as he tried to connect with his element. Rain knew the others could control their power while talking and moving, but he still struggled without devoting his complete concentration to it.

He felt the motion of the water in the stream at the foot of the field, the weight of the droplets in the few scraps of cloud overhead. Flexing his fingers, Rain imagined drawing them in, encouraging them towards the field. He sensed the flowing rivulets of water from the creek begin to channel through the ground, moistening the dry soil around the roots of the crops. The clouds above thickened imperceptibly with the promise of future raindrops.

As Rain felt the water begin to do his bidding, he opened his eyes again to ensure that none of his changes were visible to the small audience of humans. From day one, Aether had instilled the value of plausible deniability into Rain. He insisted it was the most important part of using their elemental connections outside of ghoulish colonies, that they should never give the humans too much evidence of their power and should always leave them with a rational explanation.

As the light flooded his retinas, he saw her standing there: Marina was hovering behind her father's shoulder, watching Rain work with a curious smile and her uncannily familiar dimples. Rain choked on his breath as the sharp stab of longing for his lost future caused him to double over. The pain coursed through his veins and as it did so, Rain felt it cross over with his call to the water. Unbidden, he felt the shock and subsequent rush of emotions transfer into the water he was drawing in, reacting to the ache he had taught himself to supress.

The wisps of feathery clouds he had been coaxing to coalesce now slammed into each other as though pulled by a magnetic force. More water joined from seemingly nowhere, until the clouds hung dark grey and pregnant above the field. Unable to stop the flow of emotionally charged elemental power, Rain watched in horror as the water from the creek rose up, bursting its banks and rushing uphill in an unstoppable tidal wave of water. It reached higher than the stalks of corn, barrelling towards the assembled crowd and flattening the crops indiscriminately. He tried frantically to cut the connection and stop the flow, but with no success.

Rain's panic began to grow, only adding to the ferocity of the water, and the clouds took this as their sign to drop their contents onto those gathered below. The deluge of raindrops hit at the same time as the towering wall of water did, knocking Rain to his feet as he screamed out for the flood of both water and emotions to stop assaulting his body and mind. As the water covered his face, he felt his gills burst free and his glamour dissolve. Rain fought against the water as it dragged him further up the field and back towards the cottage.

To his horror, he saw a flash of dark hair dragged past him. The currents of his own creation slammed the girl against the stone wall of the farmhouse and pinned her there, suspended in a grotesque position, until eventually releasing her to crumple limply into the churning water below. Rain barely had time to process what he was seeing, before he heard a shattering of glass as another farmhand, a boy from the village who could barely have been fifteen, was thrown through the glass roof of a greenhouse. The rain that was still pouring down on them did nothing to dilute the obvious red of the blood spreading through the water.

The tidal wave finally retreated down the field, revealing the destruction left in its wake as it did so. The body of another farmhand emerged from the frothing stream, lifeless without the swirling of the water to animate it. Those remaining staggered to their feet, screaming out in terror. At seeing the carnage and bodies scattered across the field, they turned their anger on Rain. Feeling all the eyes on him, Rain took off running with no heed for where he was heading. Farmer Wilkins let out a howl of anguish as he cradled his daughter's mangled corpse, turning into a roar of anger directed at Rain. The farmhands left alive scrabbled for their abandoned tools scattered by the currents and gave chase, baying for Rain's blood.

As Rain hurled himself down the road, he realised too late that he was heading straight for the centre of town. The noise of the men chasing him attracted the attention of the occupants of the houses he fled past until a small mob was following him, figurative and literal pitchforks raised. Half-crazed, with fear threatening to paralyse him if he paused, Rain kept on running. Lungs burning, he kept pumping his legs as fast as they would go. His feet were now fully unglamoured and the excess webbing between his toes made his shoes feel too small. Every step was agony and yet he knew if he stopped, he was as good as dead.

Rain's mind started to swim, his actions and their consequences catching up with him making him feel dizzy and nauseous. With his tail now caught in his trousers, his balance was almost entirely gone. He felt his foot catch on a loose stone and as he went flying, he knew it was all over. Rain hit the sandy ground hard, all the breath knocked out of him. His eyes frantically swivelled left and right as he scrabbled backwards. Seeing double, Rain stared through the cloud of dust he had kicked up at the crowd bearing down on him. He registered the approaching shovel only as it slammed into the side of his head, stars flashing across his vision before everything went black.

~~~~~~~

From his seat under the tree, Dew was close to dozing off when something caught his attention. He watched in confusion as dark clouds appeared and raced across the sky, before combining together over one field. The air underneath them rippled with falling waves of the torriential rain falling from them. Dewdrop realised a few things simultaneously: firstly, those clouds weren't natural. Dew knew enough about elemental magic to recognise it when he saw it. Secondly, that amount of rain was dangerous and sure to catch the attention of the townsfolk, especially given the recent stretch of warm weather. Lastly, he realised in horror that the clouds were centred directly over the very field Rain had gone to that morning.

Dew leapt to his feet and took off running back to the farmhouse. This was it; all of their worst fears come to life. Their cover was well and truly blown and Dew had to get to the others.

#what you've done you cannot undo #cw angst #cw death #cw violence #mild but still there #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #foot of the gallows marriage #medieval au #historical au #enemies to lovers #ghost #ghost bc #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #ghost fanfiction #raindrop month #em writes

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amadea-nachtmusik · 27 days ago

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MOZART: IN SUFFERING, AS REVEALED IN HIS OWN WORDS

It is as difficult to call up in the fancy a picture of a suffering Mozart as a merry Beethoven. The effect of melancholy hours is scarcely to be found in Mozart's music. When he composed,—i.e. according to his own expression "speculated" while walking up and down revolving musical ideas in his mind and forming them into orderly compositions, so that the subsequent transcription was a mechanical occupation which required but little effort,—he was transported to the realm of tones, far from the miseries of this world. Nor would his happy disposition permit him long to remain under the influence of grief and care. None of the letters which sound notes of despair lacks a jest in which the writer forcibly tears himself away from his gloomy thoughts. His sufferings came to him from without; the fate of a Beethoven was spared him. Others brought him pain,—his rivals through envy, the Archbishop through malevolence, the Emperor through ignorance. Sufferings of this character challenged opposition and called out his powers, presenting to us a Mozart full of temperament and capable of measuring himself with any opponent.

He never lost hope even when hope seemed most deceptive. It is therefore impossible to speak of a suffering Mozart in the sense that we speak of a suffering Beethoven; fate was kind even at his death, which was preceded by but a brief illness.

"I am still full of gall!…Three times this—I do not know what to call him—has assailed me to my face with impertinence and abuse of a kind that I did not want to write down, my best of fathers, and I did not immediately avenge the insult because I thought of you. He called me a wretch (Buben), a licentious fellow, told me to get out and I—suffered it all, feeling that not only my honor but yours as well was attacked; but,—it was your wish,—I held my tongue."

(Vienna, May 9, 1781, to his father, who had heard with deep concern of the treatment which his son was enduring at the hands of the Archbishop of Salzburg, and who feared for his own position. At the close of the letter Mozart writes: "I want to hear nothing more about Salzburg; I hate the archbishop to the verge of madness.")

"The edifying things which the Archbishop said to me in the three audiences, particularly in the last, and what I have again been told by this glorious man of God, had so admirable a physical effect on me that I had to leave the opera in the evening in the middle of the first act, go home, and to bed. I was in a fever, my whole body trembled, and I reeled like a drunken man in the street. The next day, yesterday, I remained at home and all forenoon in bed because I had taken the tamarind water."

(Vienna, May 12, 1781, to his father. The catastrophe between Mozart and the archbishop is approaching.)

"Twice the Archbishop gave me the grossest impertinences and I answered not a word; more, I played for him with the same zeal as if nothing had happened. Instead of recognizing the honesty of my service and my desire to please him at the moment when I was expecting something very different, he begins a third tirade in the most despicable manner in the world."

(Vienna, June 13, 1781, to his father. See the chapter Self-Respect and Honor.)

"All the world asserts that by my braggadocio and criticisms I have made enemies of the professional musicians! Which world? Presumably that of Salzburg, for anybody living in Vienna sees and hears differently; there is my answer."

(Vienna, July 31, to his father, who had sent Mozart what the latter called "so indifferent and cold a letter," when informed by his son of the great success of his opera, Die Entführung aus dem Serail. As on previous occasions, Salzburg talebearers had been busying themselves.)

"I rejoice like a child at the prospect of being with you again. I should have to be ashamed of myself if people could look into my heart; so far as I am concerned it is cold,—cold as ice. Yes, if you were with me I might find greater pleasure in the courteous treatment which I receive from the people; but as it is, it is all empty. Adieu!—Love!"

(Frankfort, September 30, 1790, to his wife. Mozart had made the journey to Frankfort to give concerts amidst the festivities accompanying the coronation of Leopold II, hoping that he could better his financial condition. Not having been sent at the cost of the Emperor, like other Court musicians, he pawned his silver, bought a carriage, and took with him his brother-in-law, a violinist named Hofer. "It took us only six days to make the journey." He was disappointed in his expectations. "I have now decided to do as well as I can here and look joyfully towards a meeting with you. What a glorious life we shall lead; I shall work—work!")

"Dreams give me no concern, for there is no mortal man on earth who does not sometimes dream. But merry dreams! quiet, refreshing, sweet dreams! Those are the thing! Dreams which, if they were realities, would make tolerable my life which has more of sadness in it than merriment."

(Munich, December 31, 1778, to his father. During Mozart's sojourn in Paris the love of Aloysia Weber had grown cold, and Mozart was in the dolors.)

"Happy man! Now see,—I have got to give still another lesson in order to earn some money."

(1786, to Gyrowetz, on the latter's departure for Italy.)

"You can not doubt my honesty, for you know me too well for that. Nor can you be suspicious of my words, my conduct or my mode of life, because you know my conduct and mode of life. Therefore,—forgive my confidence in you,—I am still very unhappy,—always between fear and hope."

(Vienna, July 17, 1788, to his faithful friend, Puchberg, whom he has asked for money on account of the severe illness of his wife.)

"You know my circumstances;—to be brief, since I can not find a true friend, I am obliged to borrow money from usurers. But as it takes time to hunt among these un-Christian persons for those who are the most Christian and to find them, I am so stripped that I must beg you, dear friend, for God's sake to help me out with what you can spare."

(One of many requests for help sent to Puchberg. It was sent in 1790 and the original bears an endorsement: "May 17, sent 150 florins.")

"If you, worthy brother, do not help me out of my present predicament I shall lose my credit and honor, the only things which I care now to preserve."

(Vienna, June 27, 1788, to Puchberg, who had sent him 200 florins ten days before. Puchberg was a brother Mason.)

"How I felt then! How I felt then! Such things will never return. Now we are sunk in the emptiness of everyday life."

(Remarked on remembering that at the age of fourteen he had composed a Requiem at the command of Empress Maria Theresa and had conducted it as chapelmaster of the imperial orchestra.)

"Did I not tell you that I was composing this Requiem for myself?"

(Said on the day of his death while still working on the Requiem for which he had received so mysterious a commission. The work had been ordered by a Count Walsegg, who made pretensions to musical composition, and who wished to palm it off as a work of his own, written in memory of his wife. Mozart never knew him.)

"I shall not last much longer. I am sure that I have been poisoned! I can not rid myself of this thought."

(Mozart believed that he had been poisoned by one of his Italian rivals, his suspicion falling most strongly on Salieri.)

"Stay with me to-night; you must see me die. I have long had the taste of death on my tongue, I smell death, and who will stand by my Constanze, if you do not stay?"

(Reported by his sister-in-law, Sophie, sister of Constanze.)

"And now I must go just as it had become possible for me to live quietly. Now I must leave my art just as I had freed myself from the slavery of fashion, had broken the bonds of speculators, and won the privilege of following my own feelings and compose freely and independently whatever my heart prompted! I must away from my family, from my poor children in the moment when I should have been able better to care for their welfare!"

(Uttered on his death-bed.)

Thank you Alex Rosas Navarro • FB @Mozart Group

#mozart #mozart life #wolfgang amadeus mozart #classical composer #classical history #classical music #classical art #classical instruments #18th century #classical

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family-tree-of-ships · 10 months ago

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So, I’ve been thinking.

Buck has some seriously bad taste in girlfriends over the course of these glorious 6 seasons, before he decides to see if the other side can bring some light in. I mean, all of the women he has seriously dated had some strong likable qualities to them and they all wanted what’s best for Buck (I’m trying at my own share of optimism here). I think, from all of them, Abby was his most successful one (before it obviously crashed and burned and shattered his big wonderful heart). It had something none of the other ones had. Acceptance and honesty. Abby accepted his job, listened when Buck was caught up into his head about the stresses of the job. Buck accepted her problems with her mother and helped her through while she was alive and for a good time after she passed. Buck was honest with her, as she was with him. They had been through their fair share of trials and tribulations. Up until she left for Europe, I honestly liked them together.

Once they’re officially over, all the other relationships he has either miss one or the other.

Ali couldn’t get over the dangers Buck was open to while on the job.

Taylor fully accepted his job, even was honest and genuine with him at some point. Buck didn’t reciprocate either. He couldn’t get over her intense ambition for every new story she could use to her benefit (to which she obtained by breaching his trust, both when they first met and when they were well into their relationship). He wasn’t open with her, again, in many circumstances. Even cheated on her with Lucy, for whom he didn’t have any sort of feelings other than attraction. When you get drunk, the truth comes out. There’s no devil, just a complete lack of self-restraint. If Buck truly loved her, which we know he didn’t, since her answer to her confession was literally “Good.”, getting drunk should’ve confirmed his affections, not completely contradict them. Buck, seems like an affectionate and happy drunk, since that’s who he is. If he loved Taylor, we should’ve gotten a sequence in which he calls her and starts spitting dramatic declarations or even comes home to her because when you love someone, they’re your home. Your instinct is to go them, not kiss the next person you see. Then, he lies, once he gets to his apartment, after this ‘mistake’. And asks her to move in. Because he got nervous. He couldn’t be honest with her. When they found out, they brushed it off quickly, never to be mentioned again. As if they wore both scared. They break it off, eventually, after a story that should’ve remained private made the headlines. It was an important breach in trust, but it shouldn’t have been enough for Buck, considering how loyal he is (just look at how much he waited for Abby). But it didn’t need to be too much, since there wasn’t anything too significant or tethering between them to begin with.

Natalia was fascinated by his death, which was an instant message that this wasn’t going to last in any way, shape or form. Buck is also dishonest with her, about Lucy and his history with her, again. We can understand this, it shines a bad light on him if he confesses he has cheated before, but didn’t he say she sees him? Shouldn’t that bring out at least some kind of easiness into ending up saying the truth? Apparently not.

We can see why the majority dislike Buck’s choices in the women he dates long-term. Ali and Natalia never get fleshed out. Abby and Taylor do and you, as a watcher, can even sympathize with them, but they both end up really hurting Buck. So, what can you do? Settle for what the show gives you? Fandoms don’t do that, especially when they aren’t satisfied.

Okay, so who reaches those two requirements and is constantly present in Buck’s life, who is properly fleshed out? You guessed it.

Drumrolls, please.

Eddie.

Do we even have to talk about acceptance? Come on.

Eddie has been here since season 2. Through a near death experience, then another one, then a lawsuit and then another one (there’s a lot, enough to fill a whole card-based game). Buck has also had to suffer through two of those near-death meetings with Death that Eddie has had. They’ve fully had each other’s backs within the first 48 hours of meeting one another. Honesty between them is natural and that is expressed in a lot of scenes. To list a few, we have Eddie having panic attacks when he thinks of committing to Ana. He goes and talks about it with Buck and Bobby and then breaks it off with her. Secondly, when Eddie finds about the fates of his army friends and destroys his bedroom through a fit of rage brought on by helplessness and fear. A very vulnerable state to be in (let’s be honest, how many damn people have seen Eddie cry his eyes out?). Buck goes in, listens to him, gives him advice and we later see them both patching up his wrecked bedroom walls. Thirdly, we have Buck going to his house to get some reprieve from the constant worry his friends have for him, knowing that he won’t be pushed here, but comfortably accompanied. He falls asleep immediately (let’s ignore couch theory before I go bonkers). That’s both of them expressing vulnerability and raw honesty. More than they’ve done with any lover, no matter how fleshed out.

There’s clearly an answer here. We’re going to wait until they find it.

#911 #911 show #911 abc #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buck buckely #taylor kelly #Abby #they’re in love your honor #I quite fucking literally don’t make the rules #I’m given facts #I analyze #I come to a conclusion #this is what the show is giving me]#911 what’s your emergency #911 fox #911 season 6 #the brainrot is real #buddie brainrot

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chryso-poeia · 29 days ago

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You can’t judge yourself into feeling better. What you’re trying to eliminate in yourself, is an integral part of your growth. If you’ve ever seen anyone else having the same insecurities or issues that you do: how do you respond to that? So, vulnerability is not weakness, flaws are not weaknesses, they’re a sign of life. Flowing water is healthy, stagnant water is toxic.

In the same way that emotional regulation isn’t about controlling, labeling, categorizing or compartmentalizing emotions or feeling or to try to judge your emotional state in some attempt to ”fix” it. To me, emotional regulation is about the impetus of self-love. Because love is a derivative of acceptance which is allowing, which is inclusive, which is open. Expand that out enough and now you have the most fundamental aspect of real spirituality: that everything is the same thing. It’s only through defining and labeling that you separate them, your acceptance causes them to embrace one another again. And then, the true complementary relationship of ALL things unveils itself.

Now, an emotion or a feeling is guide that wants you to look in their direction so they can show you what your conscious mind can’t see due to its ’speed of operations’. Speed something up and it becomes blurry, slow something down and it becomes clear. Judgement happens quickly and it conforms to our cognitive need for organizing and categorizing our reality. Whereas love is a slow process that requires conscious effort. And whatever is created slowly, holds the most power. Negativity is subconscious stacking which builds momentum, positivity is conscious stacking which also builds momentum.

Slow something down and it will express itself, life will start to express itself. A flower or a tree doesn’t understand the concepts of efficiency or speed or productivity. They don’t need to understand, they exist, they live, they are already life, they appear and disappear eventually. This is the sensual, chemical, intense and delicious orchestration of bliss through the manifestation of the life force, only ever increasing in profoundity, the slower it moves, the more presence it is able to hold. Glorious because it is finite, the duality is the essence of life. The absence of presence. Presence being every second of every moment of each single one of your heartbeats and the spaces inbetween. Presence being every second of every moment of every inhale and exhale, that simply appear without conscious effort, and the spaces inbetween. Presence being the next present moment and the next.

You are ’man made’ but you are still nature, on the same unquestionable level. You are not separate from it. The intellect is a survival instrument, a surgical tool. But where survival isn’t concerned, the intellect does not need to be either. Perhaps to beautify? Perhaps to articulate? To communicate? Yes. But to experience? No. Strip yourself down and realize that you were always just as naked as your cousins, the trees or the grass or the rocks.

That which disturbs this, are the man made constructs, endless projections of internal lack. Which is the same reason why a major part of healing is inner child work. A significant part of that journey can be to see that it wasn’t that the child was inadequate, it was that the world and the adults around the child weren’t capable of meeting the child’s needs, i.e they were inadequate. Often due to the perpetuation of wounding through generations. If you then see that flaws are inherent to the human condition as a vehicle of growth, there can be room for forgiveness. Which doesn’t mean condoning behaviour, it simply means ’to let go of your own pain’. Which paradoxically can free the other as well. As we are all connected and what is reflected in me, is also in you.

So if i am to be condemned or painted as a villain just because i have needs that i am going to fulfill, i can see that your way of dealing with me is based on how your personality is set up to cope with life and people in general. But of course, for the same reasons, i may be percieving that you are seeing me that way, because that’s how i cope with the world. And that’s okay because people always do the best they can with what they know, otherwise they’d act and think differently. This goes both ways, by the way. But in any case, ”let them” or if you’re personally affected: communicate boundaries and take the appropriate action.

Which leads into the next point: what is unresolved becomes a blind spot, i.e threat. So pathologized shame can create an entire personality of coping that we try to fight, as we try to feel better. But we often don’t see that we are only fighting within what we think is our opponent. What is unresolved will loop itself subconsciously until it is released, making safety very difficult and coloring the entire worldview. But unless there is a gun to your head or a ’crocodile’ in the room with you, you can repeat it to yourself: I am safe despite what my mind says. For other directly non life threatening fears: are you afraid or just excited?

Safety is also tied to the functioning of your nervous system, if your subconscious loops ideas of you being threatened due to unresolved trauma. You’re likely stuck in hypervigilance. Now there’s obviously a lot of different ways to regulate your nervous system, i’ve had varying degree of success with different systems and practices. But you basically want to be able to signal to your system first hand, that there’s nothing threatening about feeling safe and being authentic, in conjunction to being connected to the body and your feelings.

But repeated exposure is obviously needed and likely: more extensive therapy or guiding/coaching, in order for your system to get used to it. Not to mention deeper work that may be required. However, we might also get addicted to digging or analyzing for problems. Which has its place, but again, constant thinking regardless of situation, isn’t really necessary. Be in that gap sometimes, allow the openness and the love.

Lastly, the painful experiences are lessons. The story or narrative is a lesson given too much power. Human beings are not these fixed, unchanging, rigid beings strictly adaptive within the context of their percieved oppression. We are open, sensitive and flowing in every moment. The messiness of human experience can’t be confined to rigid frameworks. This may be an intimidating concept but it can also be freeing. You are only as messy as a beautiful garden or a sprawling green field or the ocean.

- Chryso-poeia.

#personal development #spirituality #mental health #synthesis #my writings

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mistressmysticsworld · 4 months ago

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Miss Hokusai: The world is beautiful because of "light" and "shadow."

It is believed that many people have seen the famous image of a giant wave engulfing small boats at sea (The Great Wave Of Kanagawa), drawn with traditional Japanese brushstroke techniques. This is the masterpiece of Katsushika Hokusai, a renowned Edo-period artist known across Japan and the world. His works have inspired many European artists, contributing to the development of a Western art movement influenced by Eastern art, known as Japonism.

However, few people know the name and life of the person behind his success — Katsushika Oei, Hokusai's daughter, who possessed artistic talent in brush painting on par with her father. This is her story, brought to life in the 2016 animated film adapted from the Japanese manga by Hinako Sugiura, titled Miss Hokusai. In Japanese, it is known as Sarusuberi (百日紅), which translates to Crape Myrtle, symbolizing the aesthetics and beauty found in woodblock prints (Ukiyo-e) and Japanese brush art, often filled with images of legends, folklore, landscapes, spirits, or imaginary worlds that float beyond reality.

The world is beautiful with "light" and "shadow": A nameless female artist who lived in her father's shadow and became the light for her blind sister.

In the Edo period, the beautiful and unique works of Hokusai shone brightly throughout Japan, like a radiant light. But who knew that behind his glorious fame, there was a young girl who followed in her father’s footsteps, whose skills were second to none.

According to accounts from people who knew the father-daughter artists, it is said that in the early days, Oei rarely signed her name on her work. Sometimes, she used a pseudonym. Many times, she painted on behalf of her father as a nameless artist and sold the work with Hokusai’s name on it. This was because, during the Edo period, female artists' works were often not accepted, as women were expected not to be painters but to take on roles like housewives, merchants, courtesans, or other professions.

Moreover, it was believed that women lacked the skills to observe the world around them and the sexual experience necessary to convey in good art. In addition, most buyers and art consumers were male, so art was produced primarily to serve and cater to male desires. Examples include paintings of courtesans (Oiran), Geisha artists, or erotic depictions of relationships between women and men, women and women, or men and men, meant to serve as illustrated books for sexual arousal.

Thus, society at that time believed that a woman's perspective in creating art for men would either not sell or fail to fully meet men's emotional and sexual desires. These were the challenges that female artists like Oei in the Edo period had to face. Oei encountered many obstacles and had to hone her skills to fight against criticism and judgment in order to gain recognition within a patriarchal world.

However, since Oei understood this societal rule well, she accepted her role as merely a "shadow" under her father's bright "light." She found happiness in observing the world around her to further develop her skills. Her life was considered quite unusual for a woman in the Edo period. Unlike most women of her time, she had no desire to follow the traditional path of being presented for marriage, settling down with a man, and starting a family. Instead, she lived to serve her and her father's passion for art, as well as to study the natural world around her. This made her a courageous, independent, and self-assured woman, different from other women of her era.

On the other hand, Oei became a "light" for the darkened world of her unfortunate blind sister, "Onao." In the story, we see that whenever Oei takes Onao for a walk, she makes an effort to describe to Onao the shapes, colors, objects, people, or places that Onao cannot see with her own eyes.

Oei also expresses her true femininity without having to hide it. She speaks and treats her sister with gentleness and a bright smile, and the two are always filled with laughter from playing together.

This contrasts with her serious and stern expression, her rough and curt tone, or sometimes her silence, speaking only when necessary to project an image of credibility as the one negotiating on behalf of Hokusai with clients. She also had to behave in a commanding manner as the daughter of an important artist.

We can also interpret her behavior toward her father and all of Hokusai's male apprentices as Oei crossing the gender boundary. Her entering into the male-dominated world required her to act equally strong and bold enough for them to accept her as a capable colleague and artist.

It can be said that Oei needed to play different roles depending on the situation, location, and people she encountered. This also tells us that Japanese society, from that era to the present, has expected individuals to behave according to the roles society dictates.

Although Oei could only be a "shadow" in the male-dominated sphere, she was a crucial supporter who helped her father's fame spread far and wide, becoming an indispensable assistant to Hokusai. Moreover, she remained a "beautiful light" for her sister, fulfilling her role in the female sphere according to her gender.

The other side of the red-light district, as seen through the eyes and brushstrokes of Oei

According to accounts from people who knew Oei, she was not only very observant of her surroundings but also deeply fascinated by "light." Every time there was a fire, Oei would be the first to jump out of bed and run excitedly to see it. Her reason for rushing to witness the flames was different from others—she was captivated by the vibrant, intense colors of the fire, which no paint or pigments of that era could replicate.

Oei tried her best to memorize the colors and movements of the flames so she could capture them in her artwork. Her love for vivid tones, combined with the influence of Western art that was beginning to spread in Japan, led Oei to experiment with a new style. She began creating works that used bright colors to represent "light" and darker shades to symbolize "shadow," which was a departure from traditional Japanese paintings that often emphasized softer tones, simplicity, and linework. These innovations helped to distinguish Oei's paintings.

Moreover, her artwork illuminated a different side of the pleasure quarters—the daily lives of courtesans in the red-light district. Oei’s depictions differed from those of her male contemporaries. While male artists of the time often portrayed courtesans as seductive and erotically appealing, Oei’s work reflected their humanity and ordinary aspects. Though by night these women were viewed as objects of sexual desire, praised for their beauty, and skilled in music, art, dance, and theater to entertain male patrons, they were still considered unworthy of becoming wives or taking a place in society, remaining hidden in the world of nightfall.

But who would know that behind the elaborate makeup, the beautifully adorned courtesans living in the red-light district were simply ordinary women, full of beauty, sweetness, emotions, love, hope, dreams, and desires just like anyone else? Oei captured this reality in her paintings with great depth, and her works became well-known, including pieces such as A Beauty Writing Poetry By the Cherry Blossoms at Night, Night Scene in the Yoshiwara, and Three Women Playing Musical Instruments.

Miss Hokusai is an animated film that not only highlights the talents and importance of women who were no less capable than men but also reflects the challenges women faced under the patriarchal system. These include being objectified, having their work judged by male standards, and having to modify their behavior and identity to fit norms established by men.

At the same time, Miss Hokusai presents a clear perspective on women that many might not expect, helping to convey the importance of women's rights in a society striving for gender equality. The first step toward change should begin with understanding and listening to different perspectives.

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electronickingdomfox · 1 year ago

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"The New Voyages 2" review

Another collection of short stories submitted by fans, similar to the first volume (which I reviewed here). This one was published in 1978, and was also edited by Marshak and Culbreath. More uneven than the first volume, but there are still some solid tales in here. It would have been better if Marshak and Culbreath had chosen other stories (ANY stories) to replace the ones written by themselves. But I guess that's the privilege of being the editors...

Some spoilers under the cut:

Surprise! (by Nichelle Nichols, Sondra Marshak and Myrna Culbreath). Nichelle is credited as one of the authors, though judging by the info in the introduction, as well as the unmistakable style, I'd guess that most of it was written by the dreaded couple, while Nichols just provided the general idea and the ending. It's Kirk's birthday, and Uhura, together with the rest of the crew, try hard to keep the party a surprise, while Kirk gets more and more annoyed in the process. The story drags too much, since the plot doesn't really have all that meat to begin with. And everyone behaves weirdly out-of-character, supposedly because it's a comedic story. I found the whole thing more silly than funny, to be honest.

Snake Pit! (by Connie Faddis) is much better. Chapel and Kirk are abducted by an alien tribe who has recently turned hostile, and ceased commerce with a nearby scientific station. The tribe has also started to kill people in sadistic rituals involving snakes. Kirk is tortured in truly Kirk-style, and put naked inside a pit full of snakes, that bite him. He'll die if he isn't given an antidote soon. Then Chapel offers the natives a bet: if she can rescue Kirk from the pit without being bitten once, they'll have to release both of them. If she fails, well... you get the idea. So Chapel jumps also naked into the pit, armed just with a knife, and battles the snakes in glorious cavewoman fashion. There's action and tension, and the opportunity to see Chapel's most badass side.

The Patient Parasites (by Russell Bates). This author wrote the TAS episode "How Sharper than a Serpent's Tooth", and this story is actually the script for another TAS episode, which got rejected. Thus, it's presented in TV script form, not as a narrative. Some crewmembers are captured by a strange machine, whose mission is to retrieve knowledge from any species out there, and bring it to its masters. Kirk and co. must find a way to weaken the machine's force field and rescue the crew, before their allotted time expires. It ends with Kirk making the machine self-destruct through the power of logic. Pretty "meh!" and generic argument. It's no surprise it was rejected as an episode, given the static scenery and lack of action.

In the Maze (by Jennifer Guttridge) turned out to be my favorite story. This is the same author of the also great "The Winged Dreamers", in the first collection. Kirk, Spock and McCoy are investigating a strange cube building, which doesn't fit that planet's culture, when Kirk disappears through a portal. Spock and McCoy follow him, but end up in a total different place of the maze. Kirk is being held in a cage by a disgusting alien, with whom he's unable to communicate, while Spock and McCoy must brave the maze and several dangers to rescue him. All part of an intelligence test by the alien. Spock and McCoy suffer a lot (specially McCoy) and embrace a lot. And they even have to fight a tentacle monster, similar to that one in the lake before Moria (from "Lord of the Rings"). It's dark, it bears a resemblance to "The Empath", and it would have made for a great episode of the series.

Cave-In (by Jane Peyton) is a strange "free texture" poem, so it's up to interpretation, and it's not entirely clear what's going on. The dialogue seems to happen between Spock and McCoy while they're trapped inside a cave, and McCoy is prodding the Vulcan about his mixed heritage. Not much to comment. I don't get this stuff.

Marginal Existence (also by Connie Faddis) has the crew investigating an eerie planet, where all the inhabitants have been placed in "sleeper chambers" and pumped up with drugs. Most of them have been dead for centuries, anyway. It all turns very sinister once automated robots, which respond to the sound of voices, start putting crewmembers inside the chambers, and piercing them with needles and tubes filled with drugs, which causes them great pain. As it's discovered later, this hedonistic society chose to live permanently under the effect of drugs, but it all backfired once the pleasure turned into pain. Poor McCoy also suffers a lot in this one, this time from too painful pleasure. Yeah. It's an interesting, a bit macabre story.

The Procrustean Petard (by Sondra Marshak and Myrna Culbreath). This one gave me actual brain damage. The awkward prose is mostly gone, at least, and replaced with supposedly witty banter (it isn't), and repetitions of the same bad pun that gives the story its title. It also takes a similar plot as "Turnabout Intruder", but turning the misogyny up to eleven. Let me explain. In the TOS episode, Lester can't be a starship captain because a law (described as "unfair") doesn't allow women to be captains. However, Lester doesn't become any better once she gets Kirk's body. She's just as deranged and tyrannical as before, no matter that she has now Kirk's muscles and hormones; that doesn't make her a better leader. And similarly, Kirk doesn't become a hysterical crybaby simply because he's now in a female body. In the end, what counts is the attitude, what is inside, and not the body in particular. This is completely subverted in this story. The Enterprise approaches a planet, which has the stupid quality of luring spaceships just to reverse the sex of everyone on-board, whether they want it or not (the point being what??). As soon as Kirk is turned into a female (not just any female; he's the same James Kirk, just with one chromosome changed), he becomes the most useless being in the universe. Nobody believes him capable of being a leader anymore, and the story proves this point time and time again. He faints in the bridge just because the ship is shaking a bit. He can't go alone anywhere. He distracts all men because he's too beautiful now. Starfleet wants to take away his command and give him a desk job. He can't even drive a shuttlecraft anymore because "oh! the controls are too big". This is a world where aliens of all shapes and sizes are accepted, but it seems that human females are still the most pathetic things in existence... Is Spock also turned into a woman? Hell no. The authors are Spock supremacists, so they spare him that indignity. Instead, the planet gives Spock an extra Y chromosome (because it does that to the strongest male on-board, of course) and this turns Spock into a super-macho, and an insufferable asshole. At once, he stops calling Kirk "Captain", since he's no longer worthy of the rank. Needless to say, everyone reverts back to their usual selves at the end, save Spock. Because super-macho Spock = good. There's also an appearance of the Klingon Kang (from "Day of the Dove"), which has lost his whole crew because they're all now useless women. No matter that in the series, Kang was married to a very capable female Science Officer... Sigh. The only one who remains more or less the same is McCoy, who doesn't see so much difference, save the purely biological, in being a woman. But I think I know what's the logic behind this. As McCoy is the most emotional of the triumvirate, the authors probably saw him as "less of a man" to begin with. Or, in their own rhetoric, as a "beta male".

The Sleeping God (by Jesco von Puttkamer). This author is an interesting case, since he's a NASA scientist, who later would help with technical details for TMP. (He's also, by his own admittance, one of the victims of Shatner's "habit of kissing men on the mouth"). This story is a bit longer than the others, and separated by chapters. A massive super-computer intelligence, called the Nagha, has conquered her own universe after millions of years, destroying every living being in her strive to become the only, supreme intelligence that exists. She's a malevolent counterpart to V'ger, even referenced as a "child" too. Which is curious since TMP wouldn't be released until 1979. Unless it's purely coincidental, it could be that Jesco knew something about the movie script beforehand, and took inspiration from it. Or it was Roddenberry who was inspired by this story instead. Anyway, the Nagha has found out how to invade the normal universe too, and is destroying planets. So Starfleet decides to wake up their ultimate weapon: a mutant with extraordinary mental powers, put in a sleeping chamber years ago. Of course, it's the Enterprise's task to carry the sleeping god and confront the Nagha. But it soon becomes apparent that the mental powers of the mutant are interfering with the crew. The plot isn't terribly original, but it's well-written and keeps the interest. A bit heavy on the technical details (as expected, given the author's background), but not to the point of being boring. McCoy keeps bitching about all the bullshit that's going on, which is fun.

After this come two short poems (Elegy for Charlie, by Antonia Vallario, and Soliloquy by Marguerite B. Thompson). I can't comment much on them, since poetry isn't my thing, sorry.

Spirk Meter: 9/10*. Not evenly distributed, but very much there.

Surprise! has Spock offering to tuck Kirk in bed, and after Kirk accepts, he becomes flustered. Spock also carries him in his arms for a minor injury (though there's a reason for it, since he's preventing him to enter the room with the surprise party). Both of them also share a chess room between their two bathrooms, and it's obvious they're going into there after taking a shower or such.

The Sleeping God has Kirk finding a naked Spock tied to a lab table, immediately running to him, and then being stripped himself and put on another table next to him. Spock keeps calling him "Jim" all the time, even when discussing mission details. Before the whole complex self-destructs, Kirk's last thoughts are for Spock to be safe.

And Soliloquy, a first-person poem about Spock, ends with the bold words: "I love you, Captain, written on my heart". Maybe I should give this book a higher score based in this line alone, but the poem is such a little thing in the scope of the book, that I don't know...

Spones also deserves an honorary mention. Cave-In has Spock and McCoy trapped in a cave and McCoy is really hot ("Hotter than you know"). Presumably because of the stuffy air inside the cave, but this is during an intense banter between both and... well, you get the idea. In the Maze has lots of love between the two, as they're both badly injured and keep comforting and healing each other. So yeah, it's like one of those episodes.

And Kirk is a bit touchy-feely with McCoy in The Patient Parasites.

*A 10 in this scale is the most obvious spirk moments in TOS. Think of the back massage, "You make me believe in miracles", or "Amok Time" for example.

#star trek tos #star trek #spirk #k/s #novel review #star trek novels #spones

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homocidal-invader · 10 months ago

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@the-best-invader is 2 years old now! For that, I think I'll do one of my incredibly rare OOC posts.

The Past

When this blog started it was just a fun way for me to socialize with other Invader Zim fans. At the time @z-ib was making waves with beautiful, intriguing, and shockingly frequent art posts in what I had seen as an interesting fusion between an ask blog and a roleplay blog.

Soon, a few others started showing up as well, and I wanted to throw a Zim into the mix because I hadn't seen any of that yet.

The version of the character was based off of an idea I had for a comic series that never came to be. It was supposed to be a self-aware crackfic version of Zim based off of an already silly highschool AU comic. It was meant to be played for jokes, and for me to get an idea of the character before I started to make "serious" material. Just for fun to play with other people.

Soon, an entire community had formed with people quickly sending asks to other blogs to make themselves known. A canon had formed, so I decided to make a Discord Server where people in this community could more easily collaborate on storylines, roleplay behind the scenes, and just get to know each other better.

My character quickly became more serious, had his personality become more developed, and I created strong ideas for worldbuilding that I hadn't had when I first started the blog, all because of the wonderful community supporting each other's work.

The Present

The Best Invader has been on a bit of a hiatus for a while, and it's not really a secret. As my plotlines became more serious, my comics because more ambitious and polished, so instead I would make one large post every once in a while instead of frequent sketch posts.

In January, I injured my hand and it has still not recovered, meaning that while many of my comics are halfway done, I haven't been able to finish any of them. I still interact and check in with the community from time to time, but things are much slower compared to normal.

The Future

None of this means I have a lack of motivation to continue, though. I have many plans for @the-best-invader in the future, collaborations with other artists that have already been underway for a long time, and storylines I've been plotting out and refining for over a year now.

It might not be soon, the blog will likely be in hiatus for a few more months, but it will come back in the future and it will be glorious. Keep biding your time, and just be patient 💖

Thank you to all the fans as well. Without the community support both from the people running the askblogs and from the people watching, this character wouldn't exist and I would have less friends than I do now. Hope to see you all again soon!

#quo rambles #iz askblog community #the best invader

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birthdaycakeplate · 2 years ago

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Its Megatron Baby Hours for this sleepy binch.

This was written solely to make Megatron the hopelessly embarrassed one for once. Even though Optimus is still baby, he’s not nearly as baby baby as Megatron is baby. You know?

Prepare for cringe fluff that got way out of hand.

ALSO I’m pretty sure all my carefully placed italicized words are gone, and I can’t even look right now or else it’ll kill me.

Warnings in tags✨

——————————-

He knew he had a choice to make, and soon. Either leave this with someone trustworthy enough to deliver it to the little Prime and wash his hands of it entirely, or...

Give it to him himself- as he had intended to before realization came crashing into him with a thousand tonnes, that I’m doing so, Optimus might interpret it for exactly what it was: A gift.

Megatron stared accusingly at only visible sliver of the blasted thing tucked away in his massive servo, balled into a steady fist.

Nearly crushing it several times now.

It was with that embarrassing lack of self control in which the decision was made for him. Also partly in thanks to his sizably unholy ego.

Megatron was many things, but certainly no coward. If he had chosen this gift with the intention of seeing the Prime take it from his own servos then he better not second guess himself. That’d be half admitting that Starscream was right about her assessment of his leadership.

Megatron needed to hear more of that in the middle of a staff meeting after his gift’s impromptu discovery exactly never again. The smug look on Strika’s face… Urgh.

If Optimus didn’t go around shuttering his optics up at him every time he spoke in low, measured rumbles about the glorious feats of millennias past, or turn a pretty color when Megatron had to reach over him to grab something, he’d be a lot more worried about Optimus rejecting such a blatant attempt. But clearly -thank Primus- the smaller mech was enchanted in such a way when it came to him, and that was all the convincing Megatron needed in order to pursue it.

More than enough.

But his worry was in whether Optimus might find the gift itself acceptable, rather than whether he though Megatron’s advancing on him in such a flirtatious manner appropriate.

Megatron couldn’t help glancing at the thing again, his uncertainty mounting.

Optimus seemed to like to challenge himself, and this gift was a challenge of sorts. But was it too juvenile for being purposely made a rather easy accomplishment?

Optimus was easy to agitate, though -not in part to Megatron’s constant teasing- and perhaps presenting him a ‘challenge’ of this kind would be as demeaning as Ultra Magnus thinking it a ‘challenge’ for the young Prime to follow directions.

It wasn’t that Optimus couldn’t, obviously- it was simply that he possessed a brain module and some extraordinary self-sense.

Megatron’s spark began to beat faster. He did so prize the other’s ability to recognize absolute slag when he saw it. Including his own. Even more than that, he was enamored with Optimus’ strength of spark to act on it, unafraid to condemn himself for the greater good.

Like fleeing with the Allspark all that time ago.

It didn’t matter what sort of enemies that had earned him on the way- his high commander included.

Megatron couldn’t help but smile, terrifying the hapless minicons he passed on the decking, just trying to move out of the way of him marching on dazedly.

For a mech so tame and accepting, Optimus was wild at spark in the most surprising ways. If he’d never forsaken his commander’s direct orders, Megatron would have never met the thoughtful mech, or have been forced to endure the chaos only a youthful, headstrong prime could have caused him for the entirety of their stay on that dirtball planet.

The irony in his wistful urge to return to that time, to a place horrid and foreign, trapped together in the most unaccommodating circumstances.

Megatron heard another creak and quickly loosened his grip on the hapless gift being squeezed in his massive palm.

Remembering Earth had become something bittersweet. Megatron knew their chance encounter had been anything but ideal. The time they spent in each other’s unfortunate company consisted of even greater atrocities than trying to tear each other apart on a crashing ship had.

He shuddered to think he’d once used the object of his most ardent affections as a shield.

His thunderous scowl at the memory caused another stir of desperate mechs trying to dodge his path as he continued down the flight deck.

Thankfully -to spare anymore civilians in all this wayward self-reflection- there was Optimus. Completely immersed in his work, overseeing a new hanger designed to accommodate frames many times his size. Gigantic bots like Blackout, clipping his wings on his entry and exit thought the shuttle docks had been the Prime’s inspiration to push for its construction. And he’d stayed, after arguing and eventually winning his proposition, thanks to deeply invested ex-Decepticon flight frames at his back raving with him, to supervise his little project.

Megatron felt his chest swell with an overbearing heat at the thought of such conviction for the welfare of his own mechs, coupled with the sight of the little bot hard at work. This compassionate little thing...

Megatron’s spark swelled.

Just then, Optimus’ finial twitched, and his attention was drawn like a magnet over to where Megatron was stood making good use of the new sizable room with his shoulder proudly squared. Seeing for himself his efforts so rewarded finally brought a little smile to the mech’s face.

“Megatron?” His voice rang out over the constant drilling and clatter around him. That voice so familiar and welcoming, Megatron didn’t even have to strain to hear it. Having committed his soft little coos while whispering to one another under the stars of the observation deck to memory, his processor instantly filled in the gaps.

Megatron’s recent absence from the smaller mech while he’d spent cyber-weeks off planet side had admittedly made it easier to. There hadn’t been a klik while he was gone that he hadn’t replayed a vivid memory file of his dearly missed, little Prime.

Optimus -refusing to abandon his tireless work- beckoned him over with a wave of his hand. His finials held high on his helm.

Smitten, Megatron helplessly obeyed.

“I thought you were on leave at the moment?” Optimus asked when the war machine was close enough to hear. Just a few short feet away.

The stupid smile that spread Megatron’s own lips fell, realizing he’d been caught somewhat.

“I... needed to make a stop…”

There was a tense moment of silence, as the implications sank in, but thankfully it did. Megatron hadn’t wanted to explain it himself, embarrassed enough he’d turned an entire warship around.

“For...me?” Optimus murmured, hazarding a guess. Megatron shifted uncomfortably.

Then the Prime’s optics did that demure little thing they often did where they lowered self-consciously to stare at the floor, causing the larger mech to feel eerily similar to being stuck in a tailspin while in his altmode.

Megatron sparing more time out of his busy cycle to have ‘runins’ with him weren’t much of a surprise anymore, surely. But Optimus was a humble bot -an enormous turn on for a mecha having dug himself up from out of the pit with his own two servos and carried an entire revolution on his back with him.

Which Optimus would know a thing or two about that himself.

When a curious looking Prowl sauntered by the pair just out of his peripheral, looking over with those keen optics of his, Megatron chose that moment to move things along and hopefully excuse himself sooner from his own impending embarrassment.

He reset his vocalizer, then pulled the thing he’d been sent here -by his previously fearless ego- to deliver out from behind him.

At the sight, Optimus’ engine startled.

“What’s this for?” He asked, blinking down at one massive paw. Seeing it instantly gave him some vague idea of what it was, having tried his servo at deciphering a similar mechanism before in his travels to fight off deep space boredom. He hadn’t really applied himself then, deciding reading was more worthwhile, but suddenly, looking over this object now resting in Megatron’s extended servo, it seemed imperative he accept the shiny thing with the utmost enthusiasm.

Optics going wide and glittery, a smile slowly spreading his astonishingly pretty mouth, hanging open in surprise.

Like it was anything so spectacular than it was just a measly three dimensional puzzle.

Never mind what it was made of- Megatron thought it would be unfitting to tell him the value of its material until after he’d crafted the beautiful thing, which would likely only take an hour.

For now, handing it over with a bit more force than Megatron had meant to in his eagerness to escape would do.

“No particular reason.” He finally answered when the gift was secured in Optimus’ tight, clutching servos.

He tried his hardest not to let his confidence over inflate so, when Optimus grinned up at him with the puzzle of crystal clusters looking much bigger and heavier in his hands, held close and careful to his chest.

Gift received and appreciated.

Megatron’s work here was done.

“Enjoy that little Prime.” He shrugged, trying pathetically hard to ignore the thump of his spark at the endearing sight of a happily surprised Optimus.

“It’s the only thing of me I have to keep you company with while I return to my work.”

A very sad excuse of a thing, too. The Prime deserved riches and recognition, as any consort of a lord high protector of the lands should… Future consort.

Optimus felt otherwise.

“Thank you, Megatron. Thank you... I... I only wish there was time for me to give you a piece of me in return.”

Megatron blinked.

That was as blatant a reciprocation -and an explicit one- as Megatron had ever gotten from him before.

He struggled not to entertain any implications -not wishing to speculate on behalf of the delicate little civil frame in his company- for all of 2 nano kliks before he looked again and saw the hooded optics and lazy smirk on the other’s faceplate, condemning his innocent efforts entirely.

Megatron’s engines roared to life over the drum of construction work.

“Yes, right- We’ll- We will have to make sure we… plan accordingly for- for… that in the future. Won’t we?” Was he talking fast? He felt like he was talking fast.

Why was his temper gauge popping up?

“Be safe on your flight.” Optimus replied coyly, clearly feeling similarly swept up in all the thick, unexplored emotions of this incredibly raw encounter.

“Flying is second nature.” Megatron said dumbly, belatedly realizing he was missing the point.

“You be careful working yourself into stasis.” He deflected.

“Thankless, arduous work is my second nature. Well- mostly thankless.” Optimus held up the jagged mess of crystals in his hand. Probably already setting a challenge for himself for how quickly he could decipher it.

Megatron excused himself with a bow of his helm before he could ruin their perfect moment by asking for a kiss farewell.

———————————

“The last time jou ordered a sensible retreat vas when, Lord Megatron? Jou our too certain of jour own abilities.”

“I’m certain of the power of my mechs, Strika. I know that they can push through, that is all.”

“If they succeed with even half the injuries they sustained in the first strike, there is the matter of the Sepertines’ waiting with a third wave of missiles on the other side.”

“That is of no consequence, Shockwave.”

“They’re quite familiar with our biology, now. These missiles are loaded with infectious rust.”

“That is of consequence...” Megatron backtracked, finally losing some traction in the midst of his genius strategizing between all his officers’ complaining. Then he smirked.

“But they’re not strong enough to weather an onslaught from Blackout.”

“Zhey are vaiting for a clear path through.” Strika added, the mech in question under her direct command.

Megatron paused a moment to consider the brooding seeker in the corner of the war room, still pouting from their earlier… disagreement.

“You’ve been too quiet.” Megatron scowled.

“Nothing to say about Blackout leading the air strike?”

Starscream sneered.

“Other than he lacks half the intelligence of the average idiot Decepticon? Nothing.”

“You don’t want the position?” Megatron pushed. He thought he caught an optic roll from Strika out of the corner of his eye.

Starscream shrugged.

“I don’t envy him for being sent head first into that mess.”

“We sent scouts.” Megatron assured.

“Before the Sepertines exposed their artillery was capable of chemical warfare. Who knows what’s waiting for us? And besides, Blackout is too slow for this ‘position’- if you can even call it that.”

“There hasn’t been an opportunity to break through their shielding and send a tunneler.” Shockwave felt the need to say in defense of his master.

Strika had rather watch him struggle, though, as she had said many times before that he deserved it for keeping Starscream in their ranks.

“It doesn’t matter.” Megatron insisted, confident in his abilities, as much as he was any other mech in his military that wasn’t blasted Starscream.

“He may be slower, but far sturdier than your flimsy, tinfoil wings-“

“What the frag is tinfoil?!” Starscream screeched.

“Blackout will go, and he will prepare the field prior to our own heavy artillery coming through. And be commended for it.”

Starscream looked disgusted that Megatron would insinuate it was a feat worth praising, Blackout playing frontline pawn. He was damn hard to kill, made exclusively to cleanse the battle field in every unnerving sense of the word. But the point was that he would be serving as nothing more than fresh fodder.

Starscream would never.

“If it worries you so,” Megatron began slowly, aware Starscream only ever worried about where she could find her next opportunity to stab him.

“Lugnut can go assist him.”

Shockwave began to furiously type something into his wrist monitor then. Calculating, doubting.

“And Lugnut can offer any functional support?”

“Jealous? At a time like this?” Megatron glowered over the little holograph of Shockwave’s increasingly convoluted catalogue of percentages. Curious about existence of the ‘Visits to Cybertron’ one.

“You’re aware of his ability to eviscerate life for miles, aren’t you?”

“You’re aware he’ll be too slow to doge the missiles, aren’t you?” Starscream whisper-hissed. Megatron ignored her.

“He’ll make short work of them in the time it’ll take them to recover from Blackout’s first strike.”

“I stay well informed of our troops, my Liege.” Shockwave amended. Strika rolled her optics again.

“Only, you see, the Sepertines will have a counterstrike ready from the oceanfront. With an abundance of water, and their bodies adapted over eons to their wet environment, they have the advantage. Who do you have in mind for a naval assault?” If anyone.

They didn’t exactly thrive under thousands of tonnes of water hindering their every movement. Nor did their weapons.

Before he could blunder his way through that, Megatron’s commlink crackled to life. He checked the caller, expecting to find that it was Straxus on his last leg and suffering deliciously, then suddenly went rigid.

“I... have to take this.” He told the room.

Starscream didn’t even bother to make a stir of things. Throwing her arms up and leaving them all with a huff.

Among the curious optics, Megatron caught Strika giving him a look, and for once in his lifecycle, it had him feeling rather sheepish. Struggling to make his suddenly dry intake form the necessary words.

“Excuse me a moment.” He finally managed, as her optical ridge hiked ever higher, and turned away.

He cleared his throat tubing and put on his best air of confidence.

“Optimus-“

“Megatron, I love it! It’s so beautiful, I love it! No one has ever given me a flower before! It’s, its- I can’t even say!”

Megatron felt a pressure rise in his tanks, filling up his abdomen.

“Oh... yes...”

Optimus had called to gush at him.

He meekly tried to return his enthusiasm.

“I... Right then…”

“My first flower! Never thought I’d be excited about one of those.” Being infinitely less romantic than Megatron.

“And this one I can keep forever! It’s perfect- I- I just... Thank you!”

“Right... it’s... it’s yours forever.” Megatron said absently, bringing a palm up to cover his optics and squeeze. Feeling oddly exposed all at once.

“You...like it then?”

“Yes, he likes it, jou idiot!” Strika hissed from somewhere over his shoulder, having immediately become invested.

“Vhy else vould he be calling to tell jou so!”

Megatron was still uncharacteristically surprised to hear that Optimus might want the thing for that long. For forever.

The shock of it had him working his glossa before he had even fully processed it,

“I was hoping to gift you something that might represent my... connection... with you.”

Of all the things to say, he definitely shouldn’t have chosen that, because a simple puzzle sculpture -made of Earth’s precious rhodium, the insipid planet the civil bot so loved- was only as good as its value on said planet for its parts in pieces. The rest of its worth was purely sentiment.

He owed Sumdac exactly one favor for acquiring the stuff... but if Optimus thought a pretty, shiny flower was a flattering enough sentiment to gush at him for, and in a tone Megatron had never heard him use before -even in his sweetest dreams- then damn the mortification of having to ask him for it. It was beyond worth it, and he’d already reaped the reward for his efforts.

Optimus sounded happy, and Megatron couldn’t help feeling the effects of that- trying to ignore his erratic sparkbeat.

“I wish you weren’t shipped off on some excursion of the masses.” Optimus said then, tone suddenly playful.

Megatron felt another stupid, loopy smile grace his lip plates at that.

“Oh?” He murmured, helm dipped and hip cocked.

“Yeah...” Optimus… Optimus purred.

Megatron swallowed.

“I’d like to… thank you… But you’re all the way over there.”

“O-Oh?”

“Idiot!” Strika snarled.

“Tell him jou vill have him just as soon and swiftly as jour victory! Civil bots love grand gestures!”

“Tell him you will accept his appreciation with more of your own.” Shockwave whispered at her side. Unfortunately invested in his lord’s blossoming love life, too, now that’d he’d bared witnessed to his master appearing so happily flustered.

The first time he’d ever seen such a look on him before.

Megatron wished he had more control of his spark to focus on dealing with that, than he did with Optimus’ lovely full lips speaking such sweet promises directly into his processor.

“I’ll- I’ll have to stop by again soon.” Megatron answered, ignoring them both.

Strika took a moment to process this.

“Jou had us halt our attack to stop by and hinder him vith jour pitiful attempts?” She growled low and dangerous.

“And jou didn’t even get behind his panel-“

“It was necessary!” Megatron hissed back.

Shockwave pulled up that holograph on his wrist monitor again.

“The law of probability. We make a frivolous trip back to Cybertron every 3 deca-cycles to meet Lord Megatron’s quota. Scientifically speaking, it’s bound to happen the next time.”

Strika chose to ignore most of that.

“….Which quota is zhat now?”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Megatron sneered at the pair, finally having the sense to leave the room with his scarlet faceplates.

“You sound busy,” Optimus murmured, and there was a strange clattering sound on the other end as Optimus shifted himself straighter, embarrassed to have complicated things. Ever the sweetspark.

“I’ll let you go-“

“No, no! You have my full attention now.”

“I don’t want to impose.” Optimus said shyly. Likely turning a pretty color on the other side of the line. Megatron should be more disappointed with himself for mirroring it.

“Please do.” He purred, fighting his desire to hide his face into something soft.

“Talking to you is a much better use of my time, after all.... I’m glad you called.”

Megatron worried his lower lip, considering the cons of expanding on that thought and revealing himself as a mech so uncertain and unconvinced of his own courting abilities to the very bot he’d been steadily pledging his devotion to. The bot he was supposed to remain a steadfast, unshakable beacon of strength for- not one that was so terribly flustered over a little easy flirting.

But this was Optimus. This was the compassionate, genuine mech he’d come to find was always more pleasantly surprised by Megatron’s company when it was the honest sort.

He could afford to be vulnerable for a moment, just for him- though he had to take a page out of Optimus’ own book and remind himself that he was no coward for doing so. Despite what Decepticon rhetoric would say.

Optimus had been right as always when he’d said that being vulnerable took a kind of strength that was depthless and determined.

“I’m glad you like your gift.” Megatron continued after a moment. Ready to be vulnerable.

“I… wasn’t sure how it would be received.”

“Are you kidding?! I haven’t been given much of anything before. Energon goodies and extra fuel, maybe... This was so, uh... s-sweet.”

Megatron felt his chest swell again, this time with pride in his ability to provide for his potential mate. And pride, too, for his courageous mate’s willingness to be vulnerable with him.

Though, maybe it wasn’t so much a matter of him being a ‘potential’ mate anymore.

“I’ve been thinking,” Optimus began, as if magically reading his processor. Rather attuned to the larger mech these days.

“I-I’m not sure how you’d feel about this... You’re a very busy, um... leader... and I’m just a maintenance bot-“

“You are more precious than Primus has seen fit to tell you.” Megatron said seriously, smile slipping. As if Optimus would be able to see it and Megatron’s deep offense at his mate being disrespected from over the line.... ‘Potentinal’ mate...

Optimus snorted. Quite familiar with Megatron’s protectiveness of him in regards to his -apparently suffering- self esteem, and continued on. Thinking all of it a wasted effort.

“Well, to be clear, you said you wanted to give me something that reminds me of our connection.”

Optimus agreeing to use the word ‘connection’ added another layer to their conversation. Making it feel much less like passive flirting and that is was now more imperative than ever that Megatron answer each every question he had with the utmost seriousness.

Instead of succeeding to so do, Megatron sucked a breath in, forgetting to release it, and stood there frozen out in the corridor. Looking every bit as foolish as Starscream often insisted.

“Yes...” He simply mumbled. Fighting valiantly to force his composure to return.

“I wanted s-something, *ahem*, something that you could have forever.”

“Right.” Optimus was definitely smiling on the other end, and Megatron could hear it.

His tank flipped.

“So, ah, would you like to make this... more official? Like… a ‘forever thing’?

“Yes-“ Megatron had to steady himself on shaky pedes after tripping over thin air when he hadn’t even been moving, and reset his vocalizer for a third time that evening. Oh, how he wished he had been the one courageous enough to sweep the other mech off his stabilizers and pose that question.

Shyness was very unbecoming of him.

He was about to correct himself and try again for a more assertive, active role in this precious moment when Optimus spoke again, sounding much more like his old, calmer self now.

“Good- I’m getting started on the Ritus, then.”

Megatron promptly shut his mouth. Having a single nanoklik to wonder when exactly he’d gone through the Intimacy and Disclosure sects preluding the Ritus with him.

He supposed he’d shown his Devotion quite prominently in his mission to eliminate every conceivable threat in the universe to Optimus and their newly rejoined Cybertron (though mostly for Optimus).

But they were still missing some crucial components for its completion.

And then his stalling brain module -lingering on a power saving mode, after all the Energon in his lines had run too hot earlier when he’d allowed himself to get so worked up- switched on again, and his engines roared to life as realization punched its way through the exhausted thing.

Official? Ritus? As in... Conjunxing?

Was he just proposed to-

“You’ll need me to officiate my side of the courtship.” Optimus said then, throwing Megatron’s processor for an inescapable loop.

“Come home to Cybertron. You’ll need my mark- I want to do this right.”

‘Do this right’?

Megatron nearly collapsed from under his boiling core temperature, heating him up into a dizzied mess.

Optimus did nothing in halves, he had come to find.

Oh, Spark…

He knew he surely looked a fool, clutching at his abdomen with a clawed hand. Leaning all his weight against a wall to keep himself upright, trying to make sense of things moving at light speed, and faster still.

“I… I will.” He said simply. It didn’t take an ounce of thought to, his instincts driving him towards what ever direction was necessary for him to acquire his mate’s mark. That was all that mattered.

“Just as soon as I can.” Now would be a good time actually. He’d look and feel better going to war with Optimus’ sharp denta having punctured his throat plate.

“Be safe, please.” That sweet, soft voice had made its return, turning the inside of Megatron’s belly to a pool of liquid heat.

“I will.” He said even less convincingly then. His helm felt stuffy, and his frame felt weak. He wished his mate was there to hold him together.

Though Optimus was far more adept at reducing him to nothing more than a gooey puddle.

“I know you will, honey. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Megatron swallowed thickly. He could do without the ridiculous organic nicknames. Honest, he could.

———

Spelling and grammar errors for day

#transformers animated #tfa megatron #megop #optimus prime #tfa #tfa megop #tfa optimus prime #tfa optimus #MEGATRON IS BABY BOY TONIGHT #adult language I think #adult themes involving romance #blushing #gift giving #love language stuff #suggestive alien marriage ritus #??????

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