#i know it would!! but the moods in the games are in such wild contrast that the writers would have to do some creative hops to make it work

[i-didnt-quite-get-that-now]

thinking about kh4 and the possibility of having more ff cameos this time around. xiii and xv seem the most plausible new additions since they tie to yozora and verum rex so strongly but who knows! they might throw in some xvi people to market the newest numbered game a la ffx and kh1 back in 2002.

and personally? i would DIE for xvi to feature in kh because i can only see it going two ways and they're both hilarious in their dichotomy:

or

[whereforarthur]

Said She Wanted Five Guys She Ain’t Talking About Burgers

Pairing: Reader x George, Arthur Hill, Chris, Isaac and ArthurTv

Summary: Y/n shares her sexual intentions with five YouTubers. She invites them to join her fantasy, setting no limits on their actions. The group eagerly agrees, indulging in a passionate sexual encounter as they explore Y/n's desires one by one.

Category: SMUT

Word Count: 6.7k

A/n: ArthurTv and Arthur Hill will be labeled as such to avoid confusion

*****

“In ‘friends with benefits,’ the boundaries are blurred, and the possibilities are endless.”

"Alright, guys," Arthur Hill grinned, his eyes sparkling as he wriggled to adjust the bow tie around his neck. "She asked for a surprise, so let's not disappoint her.".

The cool London evening was abuzz with the sound of laughter from a distance and passing cars humming their way along the road, in total contrast to the quietly expectant mood of the apartment in dim light. Five British YouTubers had gathered together for what they thought was an innocent prank on one of their fans. Little did they know, the girl they'd invited had something entirely different in mind.

This had been the moment Y/N had been waiting for, and she, being the young lady who loved drama, had planned this meeting very carefully. She took a deep breath as the door creaked, at that sudden surge of excitement rushing in her body. She'd chosen Arthur, Isaac, ArthurTV, Chris, and George for their online personas specifically; each one part of a puzzle she knew would fit into her twisted game.

The five men filed in; the laughter died down as they took in the scene before them. Y/N was sprawled out on the bed, her needy curves barely contained in a see-through lingerie set. She'd gone all out, setting up candles and a sultry playlist of tunes to set the mood; it definitely set the ambiance for the events to take place tonight. The air was heady with the scent of jasmine and vanilla, much like a perfume.

Isaac's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he drank in the scene. "Bloody hell," he whispered under his breath, his cheeks flushing red. ArthurTV, ever the charmer, strode forward with a smirk. "Well, well, well—what do we have here? Our lovely Y/N, all dolled up to kill. Occasion?"

On cue, Y/n's eyes scanned the men gathered before her, locking eyes with each for a second or two before she spoke in that low, sultry voice, "Gentlemen, I've been a very, very naughty girl, and I need all five of you to help me make it right."

The tension in the room was palpable as the men exchanged glances; a mix of shock and excitement was written across the faces of the men. Normally much more contained, Chris stepped backward and widened his eyes. "I think we might have misconstrued the invite," he stammered.

But Y/N's gaze stuck to them, her expression no doubt filled with hungry longing. "Oh, I think you've understood perfectly," she purred, beckoning them closer with a crook of her finger. "You see, I've had the most delicious fantasy about all of you, and I've decided it's high time I make it real."

The four looked at one another, not knowing exactly what the next course of action should be. George took the lead, his curiosity running deep. "Alright, lass, what's the plan?" he asked, the corner of his mouth curled into a smirk.

Y/N slid off the bed, the sway of her hips hypnotic as she made her way toward them. She reached out and put a hand on George's chest, tracing her fingers over the lines of his muscles. "The plan," she breathed, "is simple. You each get to do whatever you want with me. No holds barred."

The room hushed, except for the soft crackling of the candles. Arthur Hill, in his group of friends, the seasoned veteran when it came to wild nights out, stepped forward. "Alright, love," he started in a deep, gruff voice, "but let's make sure we're on the same page here."

Y/N nodded, the predatory glint in her eye. "Agreed," she purred lowly as her hand slid down to George's belt. "But remember, this is all for fun, and we all get what we want." She leaned in closer, her hot breath against his ear. "But you'll have to work for it."

Isaaс, who was standing by the door, swаllоwed hard, trying to wrap his head around all the implications of all this. He had never gotten himself into such a situation, but his desires forbade him to bаck away. He stepped forward very slоwly while his eyes brutally raked Y/N's bоdy. "Cоunt me in," he said, the thick desire hoarse in his voice.

The other three men looked at each other wordless, their eyes a dead give-away of disbelief, excitement, and perhaps a tinge of fear. They knew it could get out of hand, but the temptation was far too great to resist. These men had all watched her videos and heard her flirty comments, and she now stood before them, offering herself up like a prize to be shared.

Chris broke the silence first. "Alright, if we're all in, then let's get this party started," he said, attempting to sound cool, but in reality, his heart was racing wildly. The tension in that room increased, with them all stepping closer to her, their eyes devouring every inch of exposed skin.

Y/N eyed them each in turn, a smirk dancing on her lips. "Strip," she commanded, firmness laced in her voice. There was an infinitesimal hesitation before the men began to strip off their clothes, fumbling with buttons and zippers. The room started to heat up as clothing hit the floor, and their eager arousal became evident.

Chris was the oldest in the circle and went ahead first. He stared into Y/N's eyes, clasped her around the waist, yanking her into a desperate kiss, drawing out the air from her. His hands roamed over her body, cupping and squeezing her breasts and ass as she melted into him. The rest watched, their desires building as they took in the view of their friend claiming her first.

ArthurTV was quick of wit, silver of tongue-next. He leaned in with a smirk, hands sliding up her thighs. "I got a surprise for you," he murmured, his fingers finding the wetness collected between her legs. He slipped a finger inside her, and she moaned into Chris's mouth. Isaac and George, the remaining two, sat down and watched as excitement took them; their cocks stiffened in anticipation.

Y/N pushed Chris away, panting, before turning to ArthurTV. "That all you got?" she teased, beckoning him on. He gave a dark chuckle and leaned in to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. "Oh, I got lots more," he assured her, guiding her towards the bed.

The others didn't waste any more time; each was out to have his piece of her. Isaac was by no means shy anymore, stepped up, and claimed her mouth. His tongue danced with hers in a passionate duel as George and Arthur Hill looked at her, starving, hands mapping every curve, every dip, with possessive strokes.

Chris stepped back, eyes dark with the desire to have watched his friends touch her. He knew sooner or later he would have to regain control, but for now, he enjoyed the show, his cock pulsing with every gasp and moan escaping Y/N's lips.

Isaac leaned forward, and his hands moved to her breasts, gently kneading them before pinching her nipples. She arched her back, pushing into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed in the upsurge of pleasure that filled the room with the symphony of heavy breathing and whispered words of lust.

Arthur Hill forward, his eyes dark with hunger as he reached for her hips to spin her around, pressing against the edge of the bed. He exhaled, "Your turn," as he pried her legs apart. The tongue traced a path from her ankle down into her inner thigh, skin goosebumping from the heat of his breath.

Y/N's legs quaked, her body shuddering, as Arthur's lips reached her sex, his tongue doing a delicious dance around her clitoral area. A moan escaped her lips, her body already betraying her as it reacted to the onslaught of sensations. ArthurTV looked on with a smug smile on his face, stroking his cock while he waited for his turn. "Looks like she's enjoying herself," he said with a quip—he got a glare for it from Arthur Hill.

Chris couldn't wait any longer and moved in behind Arthur Hill, his cock pressed up against her backside. He leaned in close, his hot breath against her ear. "Ready for more?" he breathed as she nodded, her breathing shallow gasps. He reached around, one hand playing with her clitoral area while Arthur Hill's tongue continued its relentless assault. It was almost too much to handle, and an orgasm began building low in her belly.

George and Isaac watched, their cocks bobbing gently in the candlelight as they took in the erotic scene unfolding in front of them. He stepped up, his hand reaching out to cup one of her breasts, his thumb brushing against the hardened nipple. "I want a taste," he murmured, and she leaned back, granting him access. His mouth closed over her breast, sucking and teasing as she writhed under the combined efforts of the two men.

Isaac's face was red, his eyes covered with a hood of desire as he kneeled beside Arthur Hill. He watched intently as Arthur's tongue delved into her wetness, her legs trembling with every stroke that danced across. "Please," she whimpered, and with a wicked grin, Isaac leaned in, his mouth joining Arthur's in a duel of tongues and lips.

The feeling of having two mouths on her was almost too much for Y/N to bear. She bucked her hips, her moans rising louder as they worked in tandem, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she grasped at fistfuls of the bedsheets, trying desperately to anchor herself against reality. The room spun with pleasure; the heat of their bodies wrapped her up in a cocoon of lust.

ArthurTV, not content to just stand and watch any longer, stepped forward, his cock at full attention. Standing over her, he stroked it slowly, his eyes watching the contraction of her face. "Open up, love," he said, and she took him immediately in her mouth, her tongue swirling around his shaft as the taste of him was intoxicating; she wanted more.

Chris and Arthur Hill didn't miss a single beat, their hands and mouths working in harmony to drive her closer to the edge. Y/N's eyes rolled back as the pressure began to build, her body tightening around Arthur's tongue as he continued to lick her. She felt the heat of George's breath as he leaned into the side of her neck, his teeth nibbling gently at her earlobe.

Isaac and ArthurTV watched their own desires come to a boiling point at the sight of their friend sans restraint in their passion. They exchanged a look, both keen to take their turn. Y/N felt a hand at her waist, gently lifting her onto the bed. She looked up to see George smiling down at her, his eyes filled with lust. "My turn," he whispered, and she parted her thighs in all eagerness and invited him inside.

He positioned himself between her thighs, his cock throbbing in anticipation. He leaned in to kiss her, his tongue plunging deep as he plunged into her with a single, powerful stroke. She moaned into his mouth, her body already primed and ready for more. He began to move, hips pumping in a steady rhythm that had her death-gripping the sheets.

Chris dove in to take Arthur Hill's place, his cock immediately being sucked into her mouth as she greedily sucked him, never taking her eyes off George fucking her. The room was a cacophony of passion: moans and groans, skin slapping skin. The air was heavy with the smell of sex and sweat; the flickering candlelight cast an intimate, warm glow over it all.

Isaac watched, his hand going to stroke his own cock as he took in the sight of his friend claiming her. Desire was bright in George's eyes, raw need etched into every line of his face. He knew it was only a matter of time before he had to take his place, but for now, he enjoyed watching the woman he had fantasized about being taken by his best mates.

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed as George thrust harder. Her body was a symphony of pleasure, each touch and kiss sending shockwaves through her. She could feel the beginnings of another orgasm building, pressure coiling in her core. "Fuck me harder," she begged, her voice hoarse with need.

George obeyed, becoming more and more erratic as his climax neared. Arthur Hill and Isaac watched as they stroked their own cocks, their stroking in time with George's thrusts as the room spun into a blur of flesh and desire, their attention only for the woman writhing on the bed in front of them.

Chris pulled from her mouth, panting, and took his place next to ArthurTV. They watched together as George brought Y/N to the edge, her back arched and her nails digging into the mattress. With a final, guttural groan, George emptied himself inside her, shuddering with the force of his release. He collapsed beside her, pure satisfaction etched on his face.

Y/N panted and blushed, gazing up at the remaining two. "Who's next?" she purred, full of seduction. ArthurTV stepped forward, cock in hand. Wasting no time, he filled her, his movements fast and sure as he claimed her mouth once more. She moaned around his shaft, her tongue swirling around him as he started to fuck her with the same fervor as the rest.

Isaac kneeled beside her, his cock rigid, the youngest and most anxious. Without reservation or hesitation, she took him all in, her hand clasping his base as she took him deep into her throat. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he groaned loudly, purely in pleasure. "So good," he muttered, his hand burying in her hair, guiding her motions.

The room became a tornado of lust and desire, each man taking their turn to claim her, their movements becoming frenzied with every successive moment. The bed creaked in protest—the headboard slammed against the wall with every thrust. Y/N moaned even louder, her body a canvas of pleasure painted by the hands and cocks of the men she lured into her web.

Isaac's eyes didn't leave hers as he face-fucked her, his hand clenching in her hair at every gagging noise she made. She could feel the veins in his cock twitching, his orgasm imminent. The feel of his impending release spiraled her own climax closer, her body tensing in anticipation. ArthurTV's hips snapped against her own, his cock plunging deep to hit that spot that made her toes curl.

Her eyes watered, fighting for breath around Isaac's cock, but she didn't pull away; instead, she took him deeper, and her throat muscles worked around him. The feeling of being used, being taken by all five of them, was more intoxicating than any drink she'd ever had—it felt as if she'd been waiting for this moment her whole life.

Chris stroked his cock as he watched, his own desire reaching a peak added to by the sight of their pleasure. He climbed onto the bed, kneeling beside her, and slid into her from behind. The feel of being filled so completely was almost too much to bear as she gasped. The men had become a well-oiled machine, synchronized in their movements as they brought her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

Her gaze never wavered from ArthurTV's as the tension between them became palpable, the rising heat of Chris's orgasm evident to her. ArthurTV stroked faster, his breathing shallow, until with a final grunt, he was spurting into her, his cum mingling with George's and coating her insides.

Isaac's eyes rolled back as he came, his semen spurting onto her face and chest. Greedily, she lapped at the taste of him. Arthur Hill, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, took this for his cue, sliding in as the others pulled out. He moved with a rhythm all his own, and she was aware of the bedbouncing her body beneath his powerful thrusts.

She lay with her legs wide, her body open to them like a feast, and they took full advantage. ArthurTV leaned in, kissing her neck and whispering dirty things in her ear as his hands roamed her body and Arthur Hill pounded into her. A moan escaped her throat, which was muffled by Arthur's cock, as her hips arced toward each thrust.

"You like that, don't you, Slut?" Arthur Hill growled in his low voice gruffly. "You like being filled by all of us?" Y/N could only nod, the look in her eyes crazed with lust. "Say it," he demanded, his grip on her hips tightening. "Say you're our little slut."

She complied, her voice a breathy whisper. "I'm your slut," she moaned, the words sending a shiver down her spine. The dirty talk only seemed to heighten her arousal, wetting her further and making her more eager for their attention. ArthurTV leaned in, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "You're such a good girl, taking all of us," he murmured, his voice sweet in contrast to Arthur Hill's harshness.

"Fuck me, fill me," she begged, her voice little more than a whisper above the slapping of their hips. The men became more aggressive with each word, their own dirty remarks egging her on further. "You're so tight," Arthur Hill grunted, his strokes becoming more erratic. "So fucking tight."

"Yeah, take it all," ArthurTV whispered, his fingers digging into her hips. "You're made for this, aren't you? Made to be used by us." The raw words sent another wave of heat through her, pussycats clenching around Arthur Hill's cock as another orgasm threatened to break free. Tension pulled tight inside her body, higher and tighter with each thrust.

"Tell us how much you love it," Chris said, eyes dark with lust, as he watched Arthur Hill fuck her. "Tell us how much you love having all five of us inside you." Y/N whimpered, words choking from her in a moan. "I love it," she gasped, her voice raw with passion. "I love being your slutty."

Grunts and curses from the men rose in volume, their movements wilder still at the words. Arthur Hill's thrusts became more powerful yet, his cock slamming into her with enough force to make her eyes water. "That's it," he groaned, strained. "Tell us how much you want us to fill you up."

Y/N's cheeks were flushed, hair a wild mess around her face as she moaned and begged for more. "I want it," she panted. "I want all of your cum inside me." The filthy talk spurred Arthur Hill on, his hips working harder and faster, driving her closer to the edge. She could feel the tension rise, her body clenching around him.

"That's right," ArthurTV muttered hotly in her ear. "You're going to take it all, aren't you?" He reached down to play with her clitoral area, his thumb circling the sensitive nub while Arthur Hill's cock pummeled her pussycat. The combination was exquisite, taking her spiraling toward the abyss of pleasure.

"Oh, fuck," she moaned, the words barely intelligible. "I want it, I need it." She arched her back, her body begging for more. The men took her words as a challenge, their movements becoming savage as each of them worked to be the one to tip her over the edge.

"You're ours," Arthur Hill grunted, his teeth clamping with effort. "Our little fuck toy." Y/N's eyes rolled into the back of her head, the degradations adding to her excitement. "Yes," she whimpered, the word tumbling from her lips in a needy plea. "I'm yours; do whatever you want with me."

The words seemed to unleash something feral in the men. Their movements became more primal, and they talked dirty to her, voices hazing into a symphony of lust and dominance. "You're going to scream for us," ArthurTV muttered, his thumb rubbing harder against her clitter. "Scream our names as we make you come."

Y/N's eyes snapped open and locked with Arthur Hill's searing gaze. "You're going to come for us," he said, the timbre low, a command. "You're going to come so hard, you won't be able to walk straight tomorrow." The heat rose higher and higher, her pussycat clenching around his cock with each word.

"You're so fucking hot," ArthurTV breathed, his thumb still working her clitter in circles. "The way you're taking all of us, like the little slut you are." The insult only seemed to turn her on more, and her body responded to their every demand. She could feel Arthur Hill's cock swelling inside her, his orgasm approaching.

"Please," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. "Make me come." It hung in the air, a desperate plea for release. The men laughed, enjoying the power they held over her. "Not yet," Arthur Hill said, his voice low. "First, you're going to make me come."

He grabbed her hips, slamming her onto her back as his cock never left her body. Hunched over, he nipped at her neck, fucking harder. Y/N's legs wrapped around his waist, her nails digging into his back as she tried to get closer, feel him deeper. The pleasure was so strong it was almost painful—a delicious agony she never wanted to end.

"You like it rough, don't you, Slut?" Arthur Hill's voice was a snarl in her ear as his teeth nipped at her lobe. "You like it when we treat you like the whore you are." She moaned, the words only serving to fuel her desire. "Yes," she breathed, her voice a mix of pleasure and submission. "I love it."

"That's right," ArthurTV added, his hand still buried in her hair. "You're a dirty little slut, and we're going to use you until you can't take anymore." Y/N's eyes rolled back as the pleasure built inside her with each thrust. "Use me," she begged, her hips rising to meet Arthur Hill's. "I'm here for you."

Chris, unable to wait a moment longer, slid back into her mouth, his cock slick with her saliva. She sucked him in hungrily, her eyes never leaving Arthur Hill's as he fucked her hard, his intensity bordering on violence. The other two men watched, their strokes growing quicker as they watched their friend claim her.

"You're doing so well," Arthur Hill praised her, his voice strained with effort. "Such a good little slut, taking all of us." Y/N moaned around Chris's cock, the dirty talk sending her closer to the edge. She could feel Arthur Hill's cock swelling inside her, his orgasm approaching like a freight train.

ArthurTV whispered into her ear, "You're going to take it all," his hand playing with her clitter, "every drop of our cum." His words sent a shiver down her spine; the anticipation of their collective release was almost too much to handle. She nodded, looking at them pleadingly for them to give her what she needed.

"Yes," she breathed, her voice husky with longing. "I want it all." Arthur Hill clutched her hips harder as his thrusts grew wilder, closer to orgasm. "You're going to make me cum so hard," he growled, boring his eyes into hers.

"That's it," ArthurTV encouraged, his voice a seductive purr. "Tell us how much you love being our little slutty." Y/N's body was a maelstrom of sensation, her pussycle clenching around Arthur Hill's cock as she felt the beginnings of her own orgasm. "I love it," she moaned, her voice raw. "I love being your slutty."

The words sounded like the last straw that broke Arthur Hill's patience. Roaring, he emptied into her, his cock pulsating with the force of his release. Y/N's eyes would widen as she felt the warmth of his cum fill her up, the sensation making her tip over the edge. Her body began spasm after spasm; her orgasm ripped through her like lightening, convulsing her entire body.

Chris watched her, his own climax imminent. He pulled out of her mouth and painted her face with his seed, his hot cum mixing with the sweat that already coated her skin. She moaned, the feeling of his hot semen on her face sending her into another wave of pleasure. The other two men watched, their own climaxes close behind.

Arthur Hill withdrew, puffing heavily, and rolled off the bed onto his back, his chest heaving rapidly up and down. George was into his place in one smooth action without missing a beat, his cock slipping into her still-shuddering pussy. Much softer than the others, his thrusts were smooth and sweet, as if savoring the moment. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his eyes for hers alone. "So perfect."

The feeling that hit Y/n was a weird mix of satisfaction, awe, and a hint of fear. These men took her to heights she had never known were out there, but it was still not enough. Her body had been a playground to them, and she couldn't help but let them do whatever they wanted with it.

George began to stroke, his actions slow and deliberative. He leaned further forward now, pressing his lips against hers in a deep, passionate kiss as he buried himself to the hilt inside her. She felt the warmth of Arthur Hill's cum leaking from her, mingling with her own juices. It was a deliciously wicked sensation, a reminder of the depraved act they'd all just enjoyed.

Isaac and ArthurTV watched with hungry eyes, the cocks still rock-hard as they waited their turn. They stroked themselves all the time, their eyes never leaving this erotic dance playing in front of them. The room was a symphony of passion—the wet slap of skin and the ragged breathing of participants were the only sounds.

Every time he thrust, Y/N would feel George's cock reach that spot, and shivers of pleasure would run down her spine. Her legs wrapped around his waist, tugging him closer and deeper. She could feel another orgasm building, her pussycat clenching down on him like a fist. "Don't stop," she begged, her voice a desperate whine. "Don't ever stop."

Isaac and ArthurTV watched, their own arousal boiling over. Neither could stand to wait anymore. "Let me have a taste," Isaac whispered, his voice thick with want. George chuckled, pulled out, and flipped her over onto her stomach. "Be my guest," he said, slapping her ass as she moaned into the pillow.

Isaac positioned himself behind her and at the sight of his cock so slick with pre-cum. He slid into her tight, used pussy with ease, the wetness of the previous men's cum easing his way. Y/N's moans grew louder as he began to move, his hips slapping against her ass. "So good," he groaned, his hand tightening in her hair. "You're so fucking tight."

Her body was a live wire, jolts of pleasure running through her with every touch. The room spun, narrowing the world down to the sensations in her body from the cocks inside her and the hands touching her. "Harder," she begged, her voice muffled by the pillow. "I need it harder."

ArthurTV took her mouth again, his cock sliding in and out of her lips as she moaned around him. She could feel the tension in his body; his orgasm was just out of reach. "You're going to make me cum," he whispered, his voice strained. "You're going to make me fill your mouth with my cum."

The words brought a new wave of arousal to her as her pussycat clamped onto Isaac's cock. She sucked harder at him, her tongue working his shaft while he continued to fuck her mouth. The taste of the other men's cum remained prevalent, reminding her of the degradative journey on which she had set out.

Chris and Arthur Hill watched, their cocks already growing once again hard. They had never seen a thing so erotic, so primal. The thought of their friends taking her, using her body for their own pleasure, was just too much for them. They leaned forward, touching her, their hands wandering over her body as they whispered filthy words into her ears.

"You're doing so well," Arthur Hill whispered, his soft tone a stark contrast to the coarseness of the others. "You're taking us all so beautifully." His hand moved to her clitoral area, his fingers teasing the sensitive flesh as he watched Isaac fuck her from behind.

The combination was too much for Y/N to handle. Her body is a maelstrom of sensation, pleasure so high that it's almost painful. She felt ArthurTV's cock swell in her mouth; his orgasm was near. "Swallow it," he said, his voice thick with lust. She nodded, wanting to please him, and took him deep into her throat as he came.

Isaac's movements became frantic as his cock slid in and out of her with wet, sloppy sounds. She could feel his orgasm building, his cock pulsing with every stroke. "I'm going to cum," he grunted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm going to fill you up."

Y/N's body tensed, and her pussycat clamped down on him, the beginnings of her third orgasm already washing over her. She screwed her eyes shut, her body shaking with the force of it. "Do it," she begged, the words a desperate plea. "Cum inside me."

With a roar, Isaac emptied himself into her, his cum joining the rest inside her. She felt his warmth fill her, and the sensation sent her spiraling into another orgasm. Her body spasmed, her pussycat contracting around his cock, as she screamed into the pillow.

Limbs were tangled, sighs were sated, and the room was thick with sex. Y/N was lying on the bed, her body shaking with aftershocks of pleasure. The men pulled out—their cocks covered in her juices—and fell around her, their breathing heavy with exertion.

There was only the sound of their hearts beating as one, the quiet whispers of their breathing filtering through the air. The candles danced around them, their shadows veering across them through flushed and sweat-slickened bodies. They had taken her, used her, claimed her as their own, and she had loved every second of it.

The men lay sprawled around her, their eyes glazed over with satisfaction. Their chests rose and fell with deep, contented sighs, their cocks now at rest, having spent their seed inside her welcoming warmth. It was in the aftermath of a primal dance wherein desire had knitted them together—a palpable thread forged in the fire of passion.

Her mind was a mess, her body humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. She couldn't believe she just did this—that she let herself be used by all five of them. But she didn't feel used; she felt powerful and desired. Each thrust, each groan of pleasure, was a declaration of her sexual prowess, and she reveled in it.

Arthur Hill's gentle strokes on her clitoral had been like a sweet caress, a tender reminder of his dominance amidst the frenzy. His words in her ear were soothing and challenging, pushing her closer to the edge with every syllable. The way he looked at her when he came, as if she was all that mattered in this world, had been heady.

His hands on her breasts had branded her, marking her as theirs. She felt the heat of his gaze even when he wasn't touching her, his eyes devouring every inch of her. The way he'd whispered dirty words in her ear had made her feel like the most desired woman alive. It was like a paint of his cum on her face, leaving a part of himself with her, claiming her in the most primal possible way.

George's gentle touch had belied the others; his kisses on her neck and breasts were as light as butterfly wings. His patience was a sweet reprieve, his tenderness a gentle reminder that beneath the chaos, there was a person with feelings and desires. Whispers of praise had been balm to her soul, soothing the beast that had been loosed within her.

The dominance of ArthurTV had been oddly alluring; the way he took her mouth, his cock claiming her like a conquering force, thrilled her. She'd never felt so powerless, so completely consumed by another's pleasure, and she found that she enjoyed it. His smirk as he watched her cum for him, his own release imminent, had been the final push she needed to let go, to fully embrace the slut they had all turned her into. Isaac's raw need had been undeniable. His eyes were wild with lust, his touch almost desperate as he claimed her from behind. His gruffness, the whispered dirty words in her ear, had made her feel so much like a prized possession. The painful sting of his brutal treatment of her hair, mixed with the extreme pleasure of feeling his cock fill her up, had brought out something in her she never knew existed. She likes it—the way he uses her, the way he makes her feel like some dirty little secret.

Lying amidst a circle of men, faces upwards, panting and spent, she could not help but feel triumphant. She did what she wanted to do and had taken all five of them. She did not waste a single moment, enjoying every bit of it. Her body was sticky from sweat and cum, telling of the carnality of their session. The bed beneath her was a tangled mess of rumpled sheets and discarded clothes, a battleground of pleasure.

The soft candlelight bathed the room in its gentle glow, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The air was heavy with the scent of sex, a heady perfume that seemed to cling to her skin. She felt odd, nearly at peace, her body sated but her mind racing with the memories of what had just transpired. What now, she wondered? Would they all just lie in this bed, basking in the afterglow of their depraved act? Or would they find themselves once again thrown into the battle, eager for more of what so willingly she had given to them?

Chris was the first to move, his hand tracing a lazy pattern across her back as he leaned in to press a soft, gentle kiss against her neck. "That was," he started, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find his words. "Amazing," Y/N supplied, her voice still husky from screams torn from her throat. He chuckled, low and warm. "Yeah," he agreed. "It really was."

The tension in the room began to break as the others stirred, their sated bodies moving lazily against the tangled sheets. Arthur Hill propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze sweeping over her form. "You're something else," he murmured, a hint of awe in his voice. She couldn't help but preen under his praise; her cheeks hued with a mix of pride and embarrassment. "Thank you," she whispered, trying to find some further words and coming up empty.

Chris leaned down, his hand staying on the small of her back, and pressed a kiss against her cheek. "You're incredible," he said, gravitas in his tone. "We'll have to do this again." At just the threat of it, a thrill ran through her, excitement already building for another encounter with these men. "Definitely," she agreed, the smirk dancing around her lips.

The others stirred, starting to wake sated. Arthur Hill leaned in, slanting his mouth over hers in a bruising kiss. His tongue slid against hers, tasting the last remnants of passion they'd shared. "I never get enough of you," he muttered, his voice heavy with lust. "Me neither," she whispered.

They shifted, their bodies resettling around her. It was clear that the night was really nowhere near over, as desire still gleamed brightly in their eyes. "What now?" Y/N asked, her voice imbibed with a mix of excitement and trepidation. "Now," Arthur Hill said, a roguish smile playing on his lips, "we make this a regular thing."

The idea of becoming their friends with benefits was exhilarating and terrifying. The thought of the five men she had just met, having unlimited access to her body, sent a thrill down her spine. But she couldn't run from the pull—the raw, primeval need they had awakened in her.

"We'll take good care of you," George assured her, his voice a husky purr of seduction. "You can always be our little slut to come to whenever you need it." And strangely enough, the thought of being the girl they ran to whenever they needed their sexual fix was reassuring in some odd way. It wasn't love, no, but it was something. It was passion and desire, raw and unfiltered.

ArthurTV chuckled, his hand stroking her thigh. "And we'll make sure you're always satisfied," he said, eyes gleaming mischievous. "You never have to beg for it again." The promise sent a thrill through her—the idea of having them at beck and call all the time was incredibly arousing.

Isaac leaned in, his already starting to harden again. "But for now," he said, his voice a gruff whisper, "I think we need to clean up." He slid off the bed, his cock glistening with mixed juices. "And then," he winked, "maybe round two?"

The others laughed; the spark of mischief danced in their eyes. Y/N couldn't help but feel the thrill of it, her body already begging for more. They helped her off the bed, the stickiness of the cum between her legs making her wobble just a little. Arthur Hill caught her, his arms strong and steady around her waist. "Let's get you cleaned up," he murmured, leading her to the bathroom.

The warm water from the shower washed away the remnants of their encounter, embracing them with steam as they stood under the spray. The men took turns soaping her body, their gentle touches standing in stark contrast to the ferocity of their actions earlier. They were attentive to make sure she was clean and pampered; it touched her in a way she did not expect. It was as if they were reassuring her that, in spite of them taking her so thoroughly, she was very special.

They emerged from the shower, bodies shining and renewed. The bed was made afresh, with new candles in place and a bottle of champagne chilling on the bedside. "To us," ArthurTV toasted, his eyes locking with hers as he clinked his glass to hers. The bubbly liquid slid down her throat, the sweetness just right against the saltiness of their sweat and cum still in her mouth.

They lay entangled with each other in the clean sheets, their laughter filling the room thick with the odor of sex, sweet with this new bond. They talked and laughed, sharing stories and getting to know one another outside of the bedroom. It was a moment of companionship that she hadn't anticipated—a moment of happiness that she knew she would treasure.

What remained of the night had been a blur of hot kisses and soft touches, the odd bout of sex interrupting their talking. But what really stayed in her mind was the tenderness: the manner in which they had regarded her, the manner in which they had made her feel. This was a night she knew she'd never forget, one that changed her in ways she was only just beginning to fathom.

When morning finally broke, the men held her close, their arms wrapped warmly around her in protection and longing. Whispering sweet nothings into her ears, warm breath sent heat to her skin. There was a promise of times yet to come—a heady mix of excitement and anticipation left hanging in the air. Y/N closed her eyes, feeling more content than she had in a long time. For now, she had finally found a place she fit, molded in the arms of those five men who so thoroughly claimed her.

That night, they had spent reliving their story of how they met, but the story that was going to be truly theirs was only just now beginning, and as morning light spread over London, casting its golden rays over tangled limbs, Y/N knew she knew exactly where to find home. She was theirs, and happy to be so. The five of them had found that special something that superseded physicality: love. As they drifted to sleep, their hearts beating in unison, she knew she had found her place in life—the most unlikely of places.

*****

Taglist~

@gvf23 @xxkatxgracexx @amz824 @kneelforloki

[lovelykhaleesiii]

CEO!Aegon having you sit under his desk and suck his cawk

Ughhh I’m in such a hot mood for Aeg right now, so the fact I went straight here doesn’t help HAHAHA

hope you enjoy this Bel, this had me in a chokehold xoxox 💕💕💕

Hardly Workin'

PAIRING: Chubby!CEO!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader [Modern AU]

WORDS: 1,818.

WARNINGS: mentions of an office romance/affair, male oral receiving, exhibition kink (?), slight reference to fatphobic comments, reference to p in v sexual intercourse, swearing.

A/N - I'm so sorry I made him chubby, but also not really because we all know that man would add a few pounds with a desk job and I couldn't help myself. ps I powered thru this because I just couldn't help myself. CHOKEHOLD.

To have a high-ranking employer that was devilishly handsome and blatantly licentious, was all in all, a dangerous game. Aegon Targaryen, with well awareness, knew the authority and the power he had over his meek, replaceable employees, could be used effortlessly to his advantage. In particular, when it related to work and sex.

Many of the women in the workplace, had whisper giddily amongst themselves of his overpowering demeanour, the way he'd often use his position to sate his own lusts, teasing, sneaking a grope, copping a feel, and yet, earning the full attention of the ladies, nonetheless.

Not to mention, Aegon had quite the larger figure... It seemed the sedentary lifestyle of the corporate world, along with the stress-eating, constant dining out to meet with clients, the late night take-out you'd order for him as he worked late hours into the night, and endless parties and drinking, all came at cost. This did not stop Aegon from claiming what was his. Even using his physique to his fullest advantage, finding himself "accidentally" pressing his swollen frame against your body in tight spaces, especially in the elevator. Feeling your tits press against his fat, rotund chest, always left a sly smirk across his face. Sated with himself, as he often found himself after gorging in a full take-out meal.

You'd heard numerous of times, many of the encounters a few of the "lucky" women had with Aegon: from little rendezvous' and scheduled dates, only to end with them lost, hopeful craving for more corporate cock, only to be met with a dead end.

Aegon did not pursue most, however his situation with you was... Different. You were the only one he found himself helplessly crawling back to, eager for more of your attention and tight cunt. You commenced as his personal receptionist/assistant less than a year ago, for the previous one left for unknown reasons.

The job was stressful and kept you busy, although the paperwork itself was a breeze, in comparison to having to resist Aegon himself when you had initially started. He was handsome nonetheless, his unique features that ran strongly in the Targaryen family, most of his siblings, cousins and father you would see from time to time. They looked completely ethereal in comparison to the rest of you mortals, with their lilac/violet orbs, and silver-blonde hair to contrast one another.

You did put up somewhat of a fight, in comparison to most of the other women, always making Aegon gorge more and in quite an aggressive manner, taking his anger out on other lower ranked employees, the more his frustration brew because of your firm resistance to his urges.

"Made me crave for you even more, but you drove me wild, Y/N," Aegon would openly admit, as his pudgy hands squeezed and dug at your bare ass cheeks, beneath your black midi skirt.

Regardless, once you had finally caved [in much to Aegon's relief], the relationship was layered beneath the disguise of a secret affair [not that Aegon was seeing or exclusive with anyone else, it would mean that he would need to fire you, as it was against strict corporate policy]. Aemond, his younger, much slimmer brother, was head of Human Resources, and if he caught a whiff of his older brother's shenanigans, he would not take it lightly. Aemond often found any excuse to humiliate Aegon publicly, especially if the family were there to witness. Any minor screw up, he would sniff it out like some bloodhound, and yet, with your brightly avid mind, you always ensured Aegon and yourself were a few steps ahead. Not to say you did not have a few close calls, Aegon's arousal often made him unpredictable, and this instance was no different...

"Such a good fucking girl. My very own obedient, little whore, aren't you, huh?" Aegon breathlessly mustered, leaning back on his grand, swivel chair as he bucked his plump hips forward.

Your mouth too full of his rigid, wet cock, the only response Aegon earned was helpless, feeble gags and moans from your gaping mouth.

"Th-That's it. Doing s-so, so well, taking my fat fucking cock like that, with that pretty, l-little mouth of yours-Ugh-" Aegon gutturally uttered, his breathing audible enough from above. Seated beneath him underneath his spacious desk, between his thick, sturdy thighs, squeezing your smaller frame between his legs.

"Mhmm, fuck baby-"

Your moist, stretched lips persisted with struggle trying to maintain his wide cock inside: your head slowly motioning back and forth, in a steady pace, as Aegon's hot seed oozed inside, coating your throat completely.

Without a moment to spare in intense, bliss silence, Aegon's desktop phone rang, followed by the familiar beep of the voicemail.

"Sir, your brother Aemond, has just arrived at the reception, and wishes to see you immediately, he's heading up right now- BEEP."

"Fuck!" Aegon seethed, as he lunged his mighty frame forwards in a haste and without warning, his cock buried itself deeper, harshly hitting the back of your throat with vigour, causing you to instinctively gag loudly.

"Sorry, m'sweetheart- That twat of a brother of mine is coming, gotta clean up now-"

As Aegon handed you his unspoiled, white handkerchief, you wiped off his fresh, rich residue off the corner of your mouth, as Aegon hastily buttoned up his pants. His stomach sated yet hardened and distended from a big lunch, he struggled to do the final button atop: from the looks of it, you gathered that his leather belt would not buckle, alternatively urging Aegon to remain seated behind the desk to hide the disheveled look, before his rage took over.

Just as you made the final attempts to help tidy his shirt, the sudden opening of the front door caught Aegon off guard. Instinctively, the feeling of his pudgy palm shoved your head aggressively back beneath the desk, as he shushed you before resuming his attention back towards the entrance to his office.

"Brother-"

"Aegon-"

"Pleasure to see you, as always-" Aemond teasingly insisted, as he comfortably sat himself down on the lounge, hearing the dull knock of his feet sprawled upon the wooden desk. You'd witnessed on many occasions, Aemond's egotistical presence, acting as though he'd owned the room upon which he had entered, scoffing that it was his cringe attempt of a "power move".

"The pleasure is mine. What brings you here so suddenly? Not even a call would suffice?"

"I like to make surprises, besides a call would be useless... That pretty, dumb receptionist of yours is nowhere to be found out there."

Aemond's targeted, back-handed comment infuriated you, though not to the extent to which it seemed Aegon was beginning to rile up. His fists clenched into a ball, his knuckles whitening, as Aemond's low chuckle echoed across the silent room.

"I'm only kidding, dear brother. She seems like a real sweetheart... And that figure, Gods did they take their time with her... You must really be enjoying work now, I bet... I know I fucking would."

Aegon instinctively slapped his heavy palm against his sprawled thigh, sighing in frustration, as he urged Aemond to speak.

"What exactly are you here for, Aemond? You do realise you're wasting company time...I don't think father would approve of that very much."

The tense silence had befallen the room once more, as Aemond exhaled defeatedly, before resuming the serious talk. His feet now flat on the floor, he instantly dropped what you presumed to be a dense folder atop Aegon's neat desk.

Aegon leaning forward, as his portly upper body leaned forward against the desk, the opportunity immediately presented himself, quite literally to your face.

His rotund stomach pushed through naturally, forcing his zipper to undo itself, as his stiff cock was practically begging to get out of its restraint. All it needed was a little assistance. Your lips curved cheekily into a giddy smile, your cheeks flushing scarlet. You knew Aegon would advise against this, although a carnal urge to finish what you'd started, desperate to ease Aegon's mind with his brother's tense presence.

Your tender hands moved towards, tugging at Aegon's tight pants just a tiny bit lower, as his stiff, girthy cock plunged forward. The sight excited you like it had the first time, and you felt Aegon's eyes hovering above with dreading suspense. One pudgy hand found its way down to his cock, poorly attempting to act as a barricade, yet you swiftly swat it away, before teasingly biting at his plump fingers. You mindlessly let out a little snicker, which thankfully for Aegon's quick instincts, was muffled with a sudden eruption of a cough.

"Uh- You okay there?" Aemond suspiciously enquired, as his unimpressed gaze pondered over his elder.

"Y-Yes, carry on-"

Your lips eagerly resumed once more, picking up the familiar pace it once ensued, as you coated and lapped at his thick cock. Your dizzy head bobbing up and down, side to side in a sensual motion, your keen tongue slurping at his hot seed pooling from the throbbing tip.

"M-Mhmm-" Aegon hummed, his breathing once more growing denser, as he evidently began to struggle maintaining normalcy.

"Aeg- Do you understand? We need these deadlines to be sorted ASAP. The team needs to reach the target budget or else we suffer a huge loss to our competitors... Those fucking Baratheons-"

"Y-Yep, gotcha. I-Is that all?" Aegon thickly heaved, taking a grand breath in, holding it for a split second to recoup his sense to persevere.

"You sure you're okay? You look a little tense... Did you eat too much again? You do know the food doesn't run away once its cooked, right, hog?"

"Fuck off, dickhead. Close the door on your way out-"

With much anticipation of Aemond's exit, the shutting of the door and your mouthful wonders, Aegon's warm, thickly coated seed shot rapidly down your throat, swallowing his bliss.

Aegon loudly gasped for air, as he slowly regained his senses, pulling himself out. The handkerchief he initially gave, still remained on your lap, reusing it to clean up his enamored mess.

"God, you needy, impatient little thing. You couldn't wait till he left, huh? So desperate for this fat fucking cock, you just couldn't help yourself to seconds, hm?"

"You have a conference meeting in 30 minutes, Aeg... I was simply just being time efficient," You innocently jested, as you comfortably sat yourself down on Aegon's wide, tubby thighs, his plush, meaty stomach pressed against your frame, almost trying to push you off. His pudgy hips pooled at his sides, as you poked at the dense adipose tissue beneath, yearning a sudden yelp from Aegon.

"30 minutes you say? That's plenty of time-"

"Plenty of time for what?"

"To fuck you stupid on this desk till your practically too useless to work for the rest of the evening...Does an early mark sound good, Princess?"

general taglist - @evenstaris @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @ilikeitbetterangsty @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylas-the-grim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit

credit for header - @/saradika 🤍

[maple-the-awesome]

While the Night is Young ||

Pairing: Legend x Reader

Words: 2,079

Requested by anonymous: Can I have a sad fic with Legend (LU) reminiscing about dancing with the reader on koholint? he's my fav so he has to suffer 😞 One mildly depressed Legend coming your way because everyone knows the first rule to being in a fandom is enjoying watching your favorite characters suffer go through character development 💜

Zelda Masterlist 💛 Fandom Masterlist

Crowds are never much fun. Who actually likes being sandwiched between sweaty bodies, constantly elbowed, stepped on, or tossed around by obvious idiots who only ever react with a half hearted apologies? It makes such a simple task like walking down the street a total nightmare, although there might be a good exception for it today given that it’s currently the summer solstice festival in this quaint little village the boys have recently stumbled across.

After many long days on the road, most could understand the heroes’ excitement upon seeing the then bare streets lined with wooden stalls and colorful banners overhead. A local explained the situation, promising plenty of fun games and unique carnival foods if the group decided to stay overnight when the festivities would begin. At that point, there was little choice in the matter. Seeing the expressed joy on many of the youngsters’ faces (a great contrast to their original wear earlier), Time just had to give in to their pleas, agreeing that a deserved break could do them some good. 

So, as the sky began to mirror the colors of summer, from bright reds to pinkish purples, the once empty stalls began to open and the streets became filled with residents, many more than what was expected for such a small village. 

Wind and Sky, determined to win their loved ones some adorable stuffed animals, have been taken to blowing all their rupees at different game booths. Four and Warrior, on the other hand, have made a full on competition of this activity, betting who can win the most games by the end of the night. They managed to drag Hyrule into the fun, too, but only because of his utter amazement with everything going on (after all, he’s never seen any festivals quite like this before).

Wild couldn’t show any restraint when teased by so many wonderful smelling foods, in fact he had already snuck away for something called a ‘corn dog’ before Time could even finish laying down the ground rules for how everyone was expected to behave. Fortunately, Twilight has since stayed close to his mentee’s side to prevent any disasters like Wild poisoning himself or setting fire somewhere. He also may or may not have allowed himself to be roped into trying some very questionable and overpriced snacks (but Twilight won’t admit that for the sake of his own dignity).

As for the Old Man himself, he seems to simply find joy in everyone else’s from afar, although overtime, a few of the boys have managed to get him directly involved in festivities, particularly Wind who insisted Time tries winning Malon an adorable stuffed alien from a shooting game (he succeed on his first attempt followed by many other effortless wins once he got addicted, much to the little sailor’s awe and jealousy).

The only hero to not partake in any aspect of the festival is Legend. Interestingly enough, such a colorful celebration has actually seemed to have the opposite effect on him compared to his brothers, resulting in quite the sour mood shown through his bitter scowl as he stands outside the crowd’s reach.

He curses himself for even bothering to leave the inn earlier, only having done so to shut up Warrior’s claims about him ‘pouting’ as he’s apparently been doing this entire week…Okay, so maybe Legend can internally admit that he hasn’t been exactly ‘overflowing with friendliness’ lately, but he refuses to say it’s because he’s ‘pouting’; that makes him sound childish. He’s not pouting, he’s sulking (big difference) and it has nothing to do with this festival. He just doesn’t care to lose the entire contents of his wallet to rigged games and food poisoning on a buttered stick, that’s all!

If that’s the case, one would think he’d just sneak back to the inn already. No one’s keeping him here on a leash, in fact most of the boys are too busy losing their patience playing ring toss to even notice whether Legend stays or goes. Why continue to stand around being unsociable in the background, grumbling against a wall as others clap and tap their feet to a melody currently played by musicians near the village fountain ahead, especially when it’s making him so grumpy?

“Don’t you just love music? It’s almost too beautiful to be real - at least I think so anyway.”

Legend glances to his side, curling his lip in poorly mocked disgust that earns him the undeserved gift of an angel’s laughter. Even after all these years of developing tough skin, he can’t stand strong against such a sound.

“Oh, don’t be like that! I’ve seen you playing some of those instruments of yours, so you must be a fan. How many do you own? Must be enough to open your own music shop by now,” You tease, your voice somehow becoming the only sound around him despite all those who stand practically shoulder-to-shoulder in front of you both singing and laughing loudly…yet even you pay no attention to them, your eyes locked solely on him as if he’s actually someone special.

“I don’t have that many.”

“Well, as someone who doesn’t even have one, I’d say it’s a lot,” You’ve never bothered with personal space, too used to knowing everyone to wonder why it would be important, thus you’ve always practiced the same beliefs around him, showing no care as you lean against the wall next him, letting your arms brush enough to make him flinch at first before ultimately relaxing.

“Is it because you’re shy? I mean, you have no reason to be since you play wonderfully, but I still get it if you are,” You theorize aloud, still stuck on the same topic Legend wishes you’d change. Surely there’s other things you’d be interested in aside from his personal life. He’s only a simple traveler, after all, although the more he thinks about it, that’s probably what appeals to you so much. He imagines it’s rough being stuck in one place your entire life, never knowing much about what lies beyond the horizon until a strange, stranger washes up at your feet.

“I’m not shy,” He rubs the back of his neck, glancing away from you when he decides eye contact is too bothersome, “I just like my privacy.”

You tilt your head cutely with a hum before gazing back into the crowd (much to his relief). For a long moment, you keep your eyes closed and listen to the music, waiting to break the comfortable silence between you both until the song changes into something slower and more intimate than the previous, “...Do you at least dance in front of others?”

“Dance?” He scoffs.

“Yes, dance! You know, that activity where you move your body to a particular rhyme? The thing Hylians usually do for fun? …Or are you unfamiliar with that word, ‘fun’?”

“I know it.”

“Oh, do you now?” You challenge, leaning forward in an attempt to catch his expression, yet he turns his body away while biting back his smirk which surely mirrors yours; he can hear it in your voice, “Show me then.”

“Show you?” He laughs, “What? You can’t just trust me?”

“Nope,” You pop the ‘p’ then roll your eyes when Legend dramatically grabs his chest and flops his head back against the stone wall (something he does with more force than intended, yet he forgets about the pain quickly).

“I’m hurt! Here I was thinking I’ve moved on from being a hostile in your eyes only for weeks of effort to swirl down the drain -!”

“- You’re not a hostile, just an idiot,” You push yourself off the wall and extend a hand to him, “Regardless, I’m afraid I’ll need a demonstration in order to believe you.”

Legend glances at your hand, biting down his nerves which he prays you don’t notice. It really is a simple request and it’s not like you’d both be alone. Other couples are already dancing, some showing creatively in how wildly they move while others move slowly as if joint as one…It shouldn’t be a big deal to take your hand, but for some reason it is, the thought making his heart race.

“Please, Link?”

Your eyes are pleading and soon he finds himself too weak to ignore them anymore. Reluctantly, he accepts your hand and puts up no further fight as you then eagerly drag him into the crowd. 

Standing amongst all these people, Legend finds himself a bit bashful, wondering if perhaps this is going to be a mistake because surely if anyone notices you together, they’ll mention it later on and he’ll be forced to question exactly what this interaction means, but that’ll have to be a worry for later. Once you find a suitable spot close to the music, you turn around with a bright smile which is plenty to convince him it’s too late to back out; he’s already in too deep.

And so you both dance. Your hands placed upon his shoulders, his delicately holding your hips. You’re clearly no stranger to this art form, moving perfectly in sync with the rhythm while guiding Legend to do the same. He, himself, has danced plenty of times before during his journeys, but with you it feels different. It feels more special and natural with you as his partner. There’s a slowness to the world, one he feels all too often when in your presence yet this time, it’s amplified. He truly hears nothing from the crowd. Even the music is a distant echo completely overshadowed by your beauty as you sparkle under the colored lights above.

Legend normally isn’t one to let others close, often keeping them at arm's length in fear that nothing good will come from making friends, especially friends who he meets during his travels. You shouldn’t be different. He met you only weeks ago and isn’t quite sure how ‘visiting’ will work considering he ended up here by total accident. Despite every rational thought telling him he shouldn’t be getting his hopes up towards you, it’s all ignored when you allow him to twirl you around with ease until you return right back in front of him, the difference being you’re now closer, pressed against his chest instead of being kept at arm's length. 

You’re intoxicating. Like an alcoholic who treasures his last beer bottle, Legend can’t seem to let you go. He can only find himself smiling in a dazed sort of way - dazed by you simply being you as you slip your hands down to his chest and rest your head upon his shoulder. 

“...Can I say something that might sound weird?”

“Everything you say is weird.”

Despite his teasing tone, you move your head off his shoulder to look into his eyes with such a gentle smile that, for a second, he’s convinced he’ll melt, “I’m really happy you washed up on our shore. I…really like having you around.”

“I -...” The words feel trapped in his throat, wanting so desperately to be said as you wait patiently for some kind of response. He knows you won’t mind not getting one since you understand him as being the quiet type anyways, but regardless, “...I like being here with you, too.”

You beam - like a sun rising over the ocean, your eyes lit up and your smile glows. It not only means the world for you to hear that from the man who’s always been so reserved around you, but it’s also important for him to say himself. He really likes you. You’ve quickly become the music in his life - the rhythm he wants to forever move to and melody he wants to forever cherish. He’d be fine if you keep resting your head against him, humming along to the song that’ll forever haunt his mind…That’s how he wishes things had stayed.

In reality, he had remained silent that evening and for all those following, refusing an answer you unfortunately never pushed for. Maybe you already knew, maybe you didn’t, however neither outcome changes his inner desire for you nor the pain he feels every day without you by his side. He’s not sure what hurts the most anymore: the fact that you’re gone or the fact that you never existed to begin with. Now, he’ll never get to hold you again, never get a chance to swallow his fears and just confess his feelings to see how you would’ve reacted. All he gets is this agonizing memory that haunts him anytime he hears festival music similar to that night he spent with you during that summer solstice on Koholint…

[scarletst0ries]

TWST: The EPIC Saga p6: Polyphemus

Main characters: Ortho Shroud(Polyphemus) and Jamil Viper(Odysseus)

Style: Songfic

CW: Death, threatening, dolls, slight body horror(?)

Inspired by @werewolfbyknight’s character ideas

Masterlist

A/N: Saga number 2 let’s go!!! I’m sorry Ortho lovers…

The island is a hilly- a stark contrast to the Blotfruit Eaters’ home. A small party of twenty six including Ace, Kalim, and the captain head further inland. They gather fresh fruit, but…there is no wild game… The party keeps walking until they find a small rocky outcropping. Ace runs ahead with a few men to scout.

A few minutes later he returns with news: the outcropping opens up into a cave and a beastfolk could hear a distant bleating of a sheep inside. The captain gives the order to hunt inside the cave.

The cavern is dark and cool with a distinct stench. Kalim casts a spell and small dancing lights illuminate the dark.

Then they see it. A sheep.

But they don’t notice that it looks wrong. That it’s fur and eyes are inky black, or that the shadows of the cave seem to move on their own. The captain fires a spell and kills it instantly.

“Over here,” He shouts as it falls. Ace, Kalim, and him walk towards the corpse whose wool appears to blend into the darkness. More sheep materialize as the light gets closer.

”Look at all this food! Look at all these sheep! Can you believe this cave has all this for us to keep?!” Kalim babbles. The captain suppresses the urge to roll his eyes at the cheerful man’s excitement. His mood made sense, they hadn’t had fresh meat for months. Ace looks around approvingly.

“I’ve got to hand it to you both, this is quite the treat,” Ace looks at the small herd that gathers around them, “There are sheep here to feed the entire fleet!”

The men behind them begin looking hungrily at the sheep slowly closing in around them. The captain looks at the sheep suspiciously.

“It’s almost too perfect, too good to be true,” He muses, “Why would the blotfruit eaters pass up on all this food?-“

“Who are you?” A childlike voice interrupts. The group startles and the sheep vanish into pools of black ink. Kalim sends some light further into the cave and the party recoils at the sight of their host.

A wooden doll is collapsed onto the ground. It is the size of a young boy, about ten or eleven, with bright blue hair painted on like flames. Its head snaps up, revealing only a singular cracked hole on the right side of its face, blot pouring out. Each limb has a long black tendril attached to it. A large mass of blot, twenty times its size clings onto the walls of the cavern. A phantom.

“Hey there….we’re just travelers,” the captain raises his hands above his head, “We come in peace.”

“You killed my sheep…,” The doll lurches forward, standing up, “My favorite sheep…” Its head tilts to the side and slowly rocks forward before snapping straight up, making eye contact with the captain. He and his crew sneak closer together.

A single drop of blot drips down the doll’s wooden face, “What gives you the right to deal a pain so deep? Don’t you know that pain you sow is pain you reap?”

It lunges towards them, laughing maniacally, “Time to drink your blood right where you stand!”

The phantom behind the doll travels across the walls and blocks the entrance. The doll stops right in front of the captain’s face.

“Your life now is in my hands, before I’m done, you will learn that it’s not so fun to take. You came to my home to steal, and now you’ll become my meal!” It taunts.

The captain starts to speak, but is interrupted by the puppet. “A trade you see? Take from you like you took from me,” The faceless doll almost appears to smile.

The captain weighs their options. Their best chance of survival is to outwit the doll and phantom.

”There’s been a misunderstanding, we never came here to steal,” the captain’s eyes glow red slightly, “But I can see we’ve done some damage, maybe you and I can make a deal?”

The doll snaps its head to the side interested.

Seeing that it took the bait, the captain continues, “I’ll give you the finest treasures, so long as we leave alive, you can have the world’s best tasting wine…”

“Wine?

The captain smirks and opens his canteen, sprinkling something in it. He hands it to the doll, “Have a drink, one sip and you’ll understand, the power that’s in your hand. Wine so fresh, you’d never want to drain human flesh again. Then we will be on our way, no bloodshed here today. A trade you see? A gift from you and a gift from me…”

The doll looks at the canteen confused and then pours it into the eyehole. It grunts and snaps its attention back to the captain.

“I’d like to thank you! Stranger what’s your name?” It asks cheerfully.

“My name is Nobody,” The lie flows off his tongue.

“Nobody! For your….gift, I’ve one to reply.”

“I’m so glad we see eye-to-eye.”

“Yes, you shall be the final man to DIE!!!”

The captain hesitates, “Wait…what?”

A wave of blot oozes out of the cavern walls towards his men.

“WATCH OUT!”

_________________________________________

[cyandreamz]

8,10,27!!!! :D (hope you’re well btw :D)

Thank you for the asks and yep I've been well, just been busy and not able to draw as often as I used too (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠), now time to answer the asks! >:3

8. Favourite assistant?

Kay! So to clarify in my mind what makes a character a "favorite assistant" isn't just how much I like the character overall (otherwise the answer would be Maya) but also how well they serve the assistant role, which is a super subjective measure but in my mind Kay wins because not only does she have the most useful helping mechanic but, she also contrasts and plays off the person she's assisting the most.

10. Favourite quote?

Maybe I'm weird but I don't really have one? then again I've only played threw the franchise once so maybe that's why.

27. (your least fave mechanic) Apollo’s perceive, Phoenix’s magatama or Athena’s Mood Matrix?

This is kinda hard to answer but I'll pick the magatama, but let me explain why!

out of the 3 mechanics this is the one I've had most trouble with, in AA2-3 it wasn't too hard to play the mini game itself and, was a good challenge level imo but, the frustration was trying to know when to use it! I would often get stuck trying to use it too early or think I soft locked the game, only to look up a walkthrough to check and, sure enough, it was just Magatama time...

AA5-6 only made it worse! Now it feels like it's holding my hand by just telling me to use it, and as I'm using the Magatama it just feels way too easy. Honestly Apollo's perceive has the exact same problems in AA5-6 to me, I doubt they intended to ruin those game mechanics to make the mood matrix better (I have seen people actually claim this which is wild to me ngl), I think it was just them trying to correct for the frustrations those mechanics sometimes caused but over corrected way too far.

Hope you enjoyed reading my answers! (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

[emma-ofnormandy]

Hey look, I wrote a thing! A little pre season 3 anxiety builder before we see how this all pans out for real? Why not!

Gliding in the warm breeze, their white bodies stark against the clear blue sky, gulls called out above the rumble of barked orders from the docks below. Men and women from across the empire crowded the gangplanks, some merchants and some travelers, the mix of languages and colors a stark contrast from the banks of English soil. The air was sweet with foreign spices and the sun warmed all that it touched. At a different time, under different circumstances, Emma might find herself enjoying such a place.

Beneath her feet the ship rocked, the waves lapping against the hull, and her stomach gave an uncustomary lurch. After weeks aboard, it wasn’t the water that twisted her into knots, but the unknown political minefield that lay before them. Her husband sought to grow his power, increase his control, and under her encouragement, they had come to forge alliances, build both military and political strength. Such ambitions, however, left them vulnerable, at the will of other’s desires, and as the time grew closer, it was a position she found growing discomfort with.

Being at such a disadvantage made her skin crawl with anxiety and she feared that she would not know a moment's peace until they were back within sight of London.

“Is everything alright, my lady?”

Emma gave the woman beside her a fleeting glance. So engrossed in her own worries, she hadn’t heard her approach. “As alright as can be expected.”

“Forgive me for saying, but you do not sound all that convincing.”

There was very little that escaped Brigida’s notice, Emma had to remind herself. After their tenure together, her lady’s maid was only second to her husband in terms of reading her moods and it was only a rare occasion that she was able to hide such things from the younger woman. Even then, Emma was starting to believe Brigida was always aware of what was going on and she simply chose which instances to step in and offer her council.

“The journey here has left my nerves a bit worn, that is all.”

Emma did not miss the way her maid’s delicate brow gave a disbelieving arch or the way her lips set in that mulish position that meant she would not be so easily led.

“New land, new people, new threats,” Brigida said, her gaze drawn to the overhang where the men had gathered in deep discussion. “You are not the only one concerned.”

Doing her best to keep her attention on the activity at the docks, Emma could not help the quick lift at the corner of her mouth. At this point, she should not be surprised that her lady’s maid had taken the time to eavesdrop on the private conversation. The woman seemed to greatly enjoy sneaking about to learn what she wanted, whether she was supposed to be privy to the information or not. It was a trait that she recognized in her youngest as well, and wondered about the connection.

“This is not our first battle, Brigida. We are all aware of the risk.”

Aware or not, that did not lessen the nerves in Emma’s belly.

“Even after all these years, I still think I prefer actual battle to the one waged within the walls of palaces.”

The comment didn’t surprise Emma. Brigida had proven herself an asset in court over the years, her ability to slip in and amongst the nobility unnoticed a crucial tool when other means could not be used, but there was a wildness beneath the surface that liked to fight against the confines of her life and Emma had always wondered what kind of soldier her lady’s maid would have been, had she not been maneuvered into her current position.

If her loyalty and tenacity under Emma’s employ were a measure, she would have been a formidable one.

“Enjoy it or not, you are far better at the games of court than you let yourself believe,” Emma chided. They would need her maid’s skills, as much as any other, when they finally disembarked for the palace.

Out of the corner of her eye, Emma watched as Brigida nervously pushed at the pins that threatened to pop from her upswept locks. Fair skinned and hair the color of spun silk, the woman would stick out more starkly than most amongst the diversity that lay before them, and yet Emma was confident that Brigida’s skill of disappearing would serve her well.

“At least in battle, you can see the sword,” Brigida grumbled, “before it runs you through.”

Emma hummed her agreement. Knowing your enemy helped ensure one’s survival, helped aid in victory when it was easy to see the strings that needed to be pulled, but they weren’t on their own battlefield now, and it was hard to dismiss the hovering blanket of the unknown that lingered above them.

“Speaking from experience?”

The deep baritone drew the women’s attention and they both watched as Canute closed the distance.

Behind him, men lingered, but none seemed outwardly concerned. To Emma, it appeared that all had taken to her husband’s plans and commands with the ease of seasoned campaigners.

This campaign, however, was not one any of them had waged before.

“In a way, your majesty,” Brigida demurred before offering a hasty curtsey and retreating to the bow of the ship where Agnarr hovered with a few of the soldiers they had brought with them.

Emma watched as her maid disappeared, curious as to what exactly she had been alluding to, before her husband drew her attention with a gentle caress at the small of her back.

“We will be heading for the palace soon.”

The idea of leaving the relative safety of the ship made her stomach knot again, the untold that lay before them a growing threat as they drew closer to the gilded walls. For months she had maneuvered with Canute, pressing the importance of such an alliance, and now, as they stood within a heartbeat of moving on her own plans, she questioned it all.

“Are we doing the right thing?” She heard herself ask.

Though his smile was easy, the look in his eyes mirrored her own concerns. “I do not know, min kaer, but it is what must be done.”

Hesitantly, Emma reached up and cupped his cheek before giving a terse nod. It was the first time in their marriage, at least that she could remember, that neither of them was confident in the battle that stretched before them and she could not chase away the lingering fear that things were not going to play out as easily in their favor as they hoped.

[at-verticallity]

tag someone you want to know better

tagged by @alwinfy

Favorite Color: i have a hard time choosing… i usually answer grey as the best general purpose answer, but i also like reserved warm greens, bright orange, and eyestrain blue.

Last Song: haven't listened to much lately, except for a few vocaloid songs here and there. i currently have 問題児P - 地球を削る巨大な歯車 (Giant Gears Grinding the Earth/“World Rock Drill”), Kikuo - As it is, as it is, without change, and r-906 - Panopticon 2021 stuck in my head.

Last Movie: i watched The Rodfellows Movie after it was brought up in the most recent Patricia Taxxon video and that definitely counts. aside from that, i had been watching a few old movies with my dad, and i think the most recent were The Treasure of the Sierra Madre and True Grit. and before that i think would just be Barbie and Oppenheimer back when people were watching those together.

Currently Watching: nothing right now, though recently i picked back through my ‘introductory anime’ list that i made to try to go through last winter. i'm very late to the party on all that, but even moreso now because i also sprinkled in a couple of shows from the current season at the time to try to be relevant. all of that to say i watched WataMote and Bocchi the Rock! a few weeks ago, which was a fun surprise in that there was more to contrast between the two than i was expecting. unlikely i'm going to watch anything else soon, but if i do the main three ones left are lain, bebop, and utena.

Currently Reading: i haven't been reading anything though i probably should… i still have a short list to get to but i'm not really in the mood right now. anyway i'm hijacking this section to be about games instead because i've been catching up on a lot of those after only trying one or two per year for the longest time. recently finished Braid, Outer Wilds, and Superliminal, and up next planning to try Rain World (top priority at a friend's behest), A Short Hike, IMMORTALITY, and SIGNALIS. i've also started a few more in-depth skill games and puzzle games, but because those are made to put more dedicated time in, they're pushed to the side for now.

Currently Working On: writing a small programming language with an effect system so that i can use it in other projects. in particular i wanted it for a Touhou fangame (or if i fail to finish that, at least a skeletal engine for one) to describe bullet patterns, but i think it could also be useful for some audio coding stuff i wanted to try. of course, this is PL brainrot because both of those are already solved problems, but it's fun to work on. i still feel like i'm a creative downturn, not for lack of ideas but because over the past half decade i've gotten a lot worse at seeing anything to completion, so i'm also continually trying to get used to doing more small creative stuff, but not much has come of that so far.

Current Obsession: really into Touhou right now. yeah.

Who I'm tossing the potato to: i don't know many people on tumblr, and many of the tumblr people i don't-know were already tagged… i guess @mickelbach and @tenqi if they'd like, since we've talked before at least. anyone else feel free as well of course.

[sayonaramidnight]

And so, they begin a tour of the Hawkers' Alley, with particular attention to shinies, flowers, clothing (the more frills, the better!) and model ships in bottles. Not much shopping is actually done; the very sight of the multitude of wares on display leaves Arya starry-eyed and breathless.

"I didn't think making new memories would be so much fun," she confesses, as they move on to jewellery stands and Helvi names all the precious stones for her. "I might have lived all my life in this city, but in a way, I'm seeing all this for the first time. And it feels amazing!"

One of the jewellers, a dark-skinned woman in her early thirties, gives an unimpressed stare when they approach her stand. "Well, well. I thought you would show up sooner or later."

"Were we expected? Do you often check up on your competition here, Helvi?" Arya asks with a giggle.

"You could say that, girl," the jeweller cuts in before Helvi can answer the question; her accent is familiar, albeit quite uncommon in Limsa Lominsa. "My name is Enid and I believe you met my son Elstan last night. He claimed you unleashed a swarm of angry wespes at his silly crybaby of a friend."

"I bet he did." Helvi stares back at her. Running into one doting mother while fleeing from another - of course it was bound to happen. "He struck me as a lad who had a lot to say about everything."

"Ha! My boy is indeed talkative and his imagination runs wild when not restrained. But he should be smart enough to recognize your gear. I thought I taught him well of the history of my homeland."

"Homeland? Are you... Gyr Abanian, madam?" Arya asks timidly.

"I was... once. Which is why I know what you're trying to do there - and I wonder what for. Are you playing pretend without knowing the true meaning of your game?"

"We're not playing any game!" Arya raises her voice with indignation, all timidness instantly gone. "You should have seen Helvi fight off all those wespes, while X'rhun was working hard to heal H'nethi and me! With real red magic!"

"So you say. Elstan did mention a Miqo'te man - the leader? Another red mage wanna-be?"

"Not a wanna-be, but a true Crimson Duelist who's been teaching us all he knows!"

"The Crimson Duelists were freedom fighters. How can a sheltered princess like you relate to that?" Enid's voice drips with bitterness and something else - regret? Spite? "That's an experience which can only be gained, not taught. What does he expect from the likes of you?"

"And what do you know about my experience? Or Helvi's?" It is plain to see Arya is intent on having the last word in this argument. "If our mentor deems us worthy of his teachings, it's all that matters!"

"She's right, you know," Helvi's voice sounds calm in contrast, but no less firm. "We may not share a history, but is that supposed to stop him from sharing his experience? Would you rather see the tradition die?"

"I'd rather see it live on where it belongs, that's all. Among those who truly understand it."

That's the point, lady: most of them are long dead. That's what she should say. That's what she is going to say. And yet, she clenches the hilt of her rapier and spews out something else entirely. "If you're so fond of your homeland, then why are you here, instead of going back and fighting for it?" And there it is. This time there's no armour-clad figure to stick around and say these lines for her. As she finishes speaking, she closes her eyes to isolate herself from Enid's shocked stare.

So much red behind the eyelids.

"I... Hmph." The jeweller's voice seems to come from afar. "You've changed, Herlfryd. Now that you're some sort of adventurer, you think everything is that easy and simple, don't you?"

The Warrior of Light opens her eyes and looks around, at the streets of the city she used to call home. "No," she says quietly before she walks away. "On the contrary."

The mood for shopping is all gone and there's no point of staying at the market. As they are leaving, Arya takes her friend's arm with a worried expression; Helvi notices it and gently pats her hand.

"Mistress Enid spoke as if she was quite familiar with you. Do you know her?"

"Gods damn me if I remember." Helvi shakes her head with a mirthless chuckle. How many more Lominsans who knew her in the past have the same opinion about her as that woman does? Hells, what if they used to be good friends? What if she was right and they play red mages like ignorant children?...

No.

"Before you ask," Helvi says after a long, heavy sigh, "I, too, lost my memories several years ago and some of them still haven't come back."

"You-?!" Arya's eyes widen in shock. "How did it happen? Were you drugged, like me?"

"No, I..." A long pause; should she tell this girl who relies on her so much that she shut off and rejected her past? "It might've had something to do with magic. You see, I had no magic abilities; they only appeared after the memory loss and-"

"I wouldn't have thought we had this much in common... Is that why you're being so caring? Because you can relate?"

"I'm helping you, because I can relate. I'm caring, because you're adorable." Helvi corrects her with a smirk. "And you've got quite a spirit, after all, talking back at her like that. Shall I tell X'rhun what a devoted defender he's got?"

"Please, there's no need for that!... Unless I tell him I wasn't the only one?"

"No, thanks. I didn't say those things for the applause."

"Neither did I. Now that I know what a kind and honourable man he is, I couldn't bear to hear someone judge him without even meeting him in person." Arya lets out a sigh that turns into a chuckle. "I know he thinks I'm afraid of him, but I'm honestly not - it's just that at our first meeting, he seemed so intense and... intimidating."

"You can say that again," Helvi replies with a smile, recalling her own first impression of her mentor, which has remained unchanged. Truly, there is intensity in everything he does - and passion, the kind of passion she herself once had - and, ironically, his icy blue eyes could burn one to ashes as easily as warm one's heart. Perhaps that was what made her follow him in the first place - not the magic, not even the hat?

Follow even if uninvited, damn it.

-

(AO3)

[annesoftheisland]

Anne of the Island - Chapter XXV

Enter Prince Charming

"I'm contrasting the claims of indoors and out," said Anne, looking from the window of Patty's Place to the distant pines of the park.

"I've an afternoon to spend in sweet doing nothing, Aunt Jimsie. Shall I spend it here where there is a cosy fire, a plateful of delicious russets, three purring and harmonious cats, and two impeccable china dogs with green noses? Or shall I go to the park, where there is the lure of gray woods and of gray water lapping on the harbor rocks?"

"If I was as young as you, I'd decide in favor of the park," said Aunt Jamesina, tickling Joseph's yellow ear with a knitting needle.

"I thought that you claimed to be as young as any of us, Aunty," teased Anne.

"Yes, in my soul. But I'll admit my legs aren't as young as yours. You go and get some fresh air, Anne. You look pale lately."

"I think I'll go to the park," said Anne restlessly. "I don't feel like tame domestic joys today. I want to feel alone and free and wild. The park will be empty, for every one will be at the football match."

"Why didn't you go to it?"

"`Nobody axed me, sir, she said' -- at least, nobody but that horrid little Dan Ranger. I wouldn't go anywhere with him; but rather than hurt his poor little tender feelings I said I wasn't going to the game at all. I don't mind. I'm not in the mood for football today somehow."

"You go and get some fresh air," repeated Aunt Jamesina, "but take your umbrella, for I believe it's going to rain. I've rheumatism in my leg."

"Only old people should have rheumatism, Aunty."

"Anybody is liable to rheumatism in her legs, Anne. It's only old people who should have rheumatism in their souls, though. Thank goodness, I never have. When you get rheumatism in your soul you might as well go and pick out your coffin."

It was November -- the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines. Anne roamed through the pineland alleys in the park and, as she said, let that great sweeping wind blow the fogs out of her soul. Anne was not wont to be troubled with soul fog. But, somehow, since her return to Redmond for this third year, life had not mirrored her spirit back to her with its old, perfect, sparkling clearness.

Outwardly, existence at Patty's Place was the same pleasant round of work and study and recreation that it had always been. On Friday evenings the big, fire-lighted livingroom was crowded by callers and echoed to endless jest and laughter, while Aunt Jamesina smiled beamingly on them all. The "Jonas" of Phil's letter came often, running up from St. Columbia on the early train and departing on the late. He was a general favorite at Patty's Place, though Aunt Jamesina shook her head and opined that divinity students were not what they used to be.

"He's VERY nice, my dear," she told Phil, "but ministers ought to be graver and more dignified."

"Can't a man laugh and laugh and be a Christian still?" demanded Phil.

"Oh, MEN -- yes. But I was speaking of MINISTERS, my dear," said Aunt Jamesina rebukingly." And you shouldn't flirt so with Mr. Blake -- you really shouldn't."

"I'm not flirting with him," protested Phil.

Nobody believed her, except Anne. The others thought she was amusing herself as usual, and told her roundly that she was behaving very badly.

"Mr. Blake isn't of the Alec-and-Alonzo type, Phil," said Stella severely. "He takes things seriously. You may break his heart."

"Do you really think I could?" asked Phil. "I'd love to think so."

"Philippa Gordon! I never thought you were utterly unfeeling. The idea of you saying you'd love to break a man's heart!"

"I didn't say so, honey. Quote me correctly. I said I'd like to think I COULD break it. I would like to know I had the POWER to do it."

"I don't understand you, Phil. You are leading that man on deliberately -- and you know you don't mean anything by it."

"I mean to make him ask me to marry him if I can," said Phil calmly.

"I give you up," said Stella hopelessly.

Gilbert came occasionally on Friday evenings. He seemed always in good spirits, and held his own in the jests and repartee that flew about. He neither sought nor avoided Anne. When circumstances brought them in contact he talked to her pleasantly and courteously, as to any newly-made acquaintance. The old camaraderie was gone entirely. Anne felt it keenly; but she told herself she was very glad and thankful that Gilbert had got so completely over his disappointment in regard to her. She had really been afraid, that April evening in the orchard, that she had hurt him terribly and that the wound would be long in healing. Now she saw that she need not have worried. Men have died and the worms have eaten them but not for love. Gilbert evidently was in no danger of immediate dissolution. He was enjoying life, and he was full of ambition and zest. For him there was to be no wasting in despair because a woman was fair and cold. Anne, as she listened to the ceaseless badinage that went on between him and Phil, wondered if she had only imagined that look in his eyes when she had told him she could never care for him.

There were not lacking those who would gladly have stepped into Gilbert's vacant place. But Anne snubbed them without fear and without reproach. If the real Prince Charming was never to come she would have none of a substitute. So she sternly told herself that gray day in the windy park.

Suddenly the rain of Aunt Jamesina's prophecy came with a swish and rush. Anne put up her umbrella and hurried down the slope. As she turned out on the harbor road a savage gust of wind tore along it. Instantly her umbrella turned wrong side out. Anne clutched at it in despair. And then -- there came a voice close to her.

"Pardon me -- may I offer you the shelter of my umbrella?"

Anne looked up. Tall and handsome and distinguished-looking -- dark, melancholy, inscrutable eyes -- melting, musical, sympathetic voice -- yes, the very hero of her dreams stood before her in the flesh. He could not have more closely resembled her ideal if he had been made to order.

"Thank you," she said confusedly.

"We'd better hurry over to that little pavillion on the point," suggested the unknown. "We can wait there until this shower is over. It is not likely to rain so heavily very long."

The words were very commonplace, but oh, the tone! And the smile which accompanied them! Anne felt her heart beating strangely.

Together they scurried to the pavilion and sat breathlessly down under its friendly roof. Anne laughingly held up her false umbrella.

"It is when my umbrella turns inside out that I am convinced of the total depravity of inanimate things," she said gaily.

The raindrops sparkled on her shining hair; its loosened rings curled around her neck and forehead. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes big and starry. Her companion looked down at her admiringly. She felt herself blushing under his gaze. Who could he be? Why, there was a bit of the Redmond white and scarlet pinned to his coat lapel. Yet she had thought she knew, by sight at least, all the Redmond students except the Freshmen. And this courtly youth surely was no Freshman.

"We are schoolmates, I see," he said, smiling at Anne's colors. "That ought to be sufficient introduction. My name is Royal Gardner. And you are the Miss Shirley who read the Tennyson paper at the Philomathic the other evening, aren't you?"

"Yes; but I cannot place you at all," said Anne, frankly. "Please, where DO you belong?"

"I feel as if I didn't belong anywhere yet. I put in my Freshman and Sophomore years at Redmond two years ago. I've been in Europe ever since. Now I've come back to finish my Arts course."

"This is my Junior year, too," said Anne.

"So we are classmates as well as collegemates. I am reconciled to the loss of the years that the locust has eaten," said her companion, with a world of meaning in those wonderful eyes of his.

The rain came steadily down for the best part of an hour. But the time seemed really very short. When the clouds parted and a burst of pale November sunshine fell athwart the harbor and the pines Anne and her companion walked home together. By the time they had reached the gate of Patty's Place he had asked permission to call, and had received it. Anne went in with cheeks of flame and her heart beating to her fingertips. Rusty, who climbed into her lap and tried to kiss her, found a very absent welcome. Anne, with her soul full of romantic thrills, had no attention to spare just then for a crop-eared pussy cat.

That evening a parcel was left at Patty's Place for Miss Shirley. It was a box containing a dozen magnificent roses. Phil pounced impertinently on the card that fell from it, read the name and the poetical quotation written on the back.

"Royal Gardner!" she exclaimed. "Why, Anne, I didn't know you were acquainted with Roy Gardner!"

"I met him in the park this afternoon in the rain," explained Anne hurriedly. "My umbrella turned inside out and he came to my rescue with his."

"Oh!" Phil peered curiously at Anne." And is that exceedingly commonplace incident any reason why he should send us longstemmed roses by the dozen, with a very sentimental rhyme? Or why we should blush divinest rosy-red when we look at his card? Anne, thy face betrayeth thee."

"Don't talk nonsense, Phil. Do you know Mr. Gardner?"

"I've met his two sisters, and I know of him. So does everybody worthwhile in Kingsport. The Gardners are among the richest, bluest, of Bluenoses. Roy is adorably handsome and clever. Two years ago his mother's health failed and he had to leave college and go abroad with her -- his father is dead. He must have been greatly disappointed to have to give up his class, but they say he was perfectly sweet about it. Fee -- fi -- fo -- fum, Anne. I smell romance. Almost do I envy you, but not quite. After all, Roy Gardner isn't Jonas."

"You goose!" said Anne loftily. But she lay long awake that night, nor did she wish for sleep. Her waking fancies were more alluring than any vision of dreamland. Had the real Prince come at last? Recalling those glorious dark eyes which had gazed so deeply into her own, Anne was very strongly inclined to think he had.

[charleyad]

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[adorectrine]

Kitty sat by the river, her fingers absently skipping stones across the surface, though her thoughts were miles away. She wasn’t really here, not tonight. The weight of the past was too much, a heavy cloak she couldn’t shake off. She wasn’t in the mood to join the others. There was just too much—too much blood on her hands, too many dark memories, and too much guilt. She couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around how quickly everything had shifted

Then, Kore’s voice cut through the silence, hesitant and uncertain. "Please, I know we'll all be stuck together for a bit longer." It wasn’t the same Kore who had once been a force of nature, unrepentant and full of fury. The tail that used to lash with wild energy now hung limp, its usual fire replaced by an almost helpless vulnerability. Her eyes, once sharp with hunger, now carried a weight of something softer—regret, perhaps, or something else entirely. It was… unexpected.

Kitty's gaze shifted to Kore, and her eyes narrowed slightly. Kore’s tail, wrapped tight around her leg, almost protective, was a stark contrast to the fierce woman she used to know. This wasn’t the Kore Kitty remembered, the one she had so easily hated.

This version of her… it didn’t fit. Didn't make sense.

Kore’s question hung in the air.

Kitty blinked, caught off guard. She wanted to brush it off, to tell Kore that nothing she could say or do would matter. But instead, her eyes drifted over to the other woman, who seemed so much smaller now, so fragile. Was this all just a game? Was this new version of Kore just another mask, another trick to escape Bhaal’s grasp?

Kitty’s mind swirled with doubt, and yet there was that nagging thought that wouldn't leave her alone: Kore had looked genuinely devastated when Alfira had died. The guilt had been real. That sorrow hadn’t felt false.

Kitty finally exhaled, long and frustrated. “I don’t know, Kore.” Her voice came out softer than it ever had before, no sharpness, no judgment. Just confusion. “I don’t know if I can trust you. If this is just some act, some way to escape the things you’ve done… But I can’t deny it. You’re different. You feel different. And I don’t know what to do with that.”

She picked up another stone, her fingers tracing it absentmindedly as she wrestled with her thoughts. Finally, she looked at Kore, meeting her eyes for the first time. “I’ve been cruel to you, all this time. Made a monster out of you in my head… Maybe I was wrong. But you’ve never really done anything to me… besides—” Her throat caught at the thought of Alfira, and she stopped. “So, why? Why do you want anything more than to be civil? We’ve got the same goal, the same problem. Isn’t that enough?”

Her voice, when it came, was softer than before, no longer dismissive but quiet, almost searching. It was the first time in a long while she hadn’t been harsh with Kore. For once, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

RIVALS (TO LOVERS?) SENTENCE STARTERS @adorectrine sent: ❛ why would i ever want to be friends with you? ❜ from kitty to kore!

Blinking, Kore takes a small step back from Kitty, almost flinching at her words. "Okayyy..." She mumbles, caught off-guard, but she tries to keep her composure and straightens up again. Does her best not to pout at the clear rejection from the other.

"I'm sorry, if I've done anything to upset you since..." She trails off, brows furrowing and tail flicking with uncertainty. She can't remember doing anything to the rogue in particular since waking up

...that said though, she also remembers the fallout of Alfira's death amongst all of them. Perhaps that in it of itself was enough to warrant Kitty's hatred, and maybe it was earned. Lips twisting into a frown, Kore's tail curls around her leg while avoiding the other's gaze, feeling the guilt start to overcome her once again.

Damn it, not tonight. Tonight is supposed to be fun.

"Please, I know we'll all be stuck together for a bit longer." At least until their tadpole situation is dealt with, which is turning into quite the length of time now... "Is there anything I could do to help put you at ease...?"

[yeoreos]

avid || jjk (m)

pairing: demon!jungkook x human!reader

genre: 18+, smut

summary: jungkook finds you at a bar and sets you as his night's target

warnings: oh lord smut. lots and lots of smut.

wc: 4k

note: i was kind of lazy to finish it, but hey, its 4k of foreplay; nothing beats that! (also sorry for not posting in a while i was busy with beginning of year exams *cries*)

jungkook first noticed you in a bar. on weekends, it was transformed into a seedy nightclub. he liked to go there while he was looking for something to eat; something to conquer for the night. he discovered a plethora of attractive females and, each with broken hearts and hungry gazes - all yearning for a nighttime lover.

he never believed his eyes when they landed on you. the state you were in was pitiful. he guessed that you had just broken up with this boyfriend of yours, hence the mascara and ruined makeup on your face. or perhaps it was a platonic breakup. despite your state, his mahogany orbs never left your figure. what a cute thing you were.

a pretty face that was exactly his type, the perfect curves of your tits, hips, and ass has his knees weak. if you were to ask, he would give.

of course, his initial plan had been thrown out the window the instant he saw you. you leaned against the bar, accepting an order, with a grin on your lips. It sparked something in him, all the confidence (whether it be from the alcohol in your veins or not, it didn't matter to him) and allure.

he knew your name. how could he miss the way your own name rolled off of your tongue so easily? how could he miss the way your lips formed a smirk after seeing jungkook? how could he miss your scent when you pulled him in to kiss you?

this was jungkook's specialty, depravity. wherever he went, he brought a tale of wickedness and depravity with him, the quality hooking onto him like a magnet.

he was a fallen angel, to be sure. a demon, a fallen angel. to be more specific, an incubus. he fed off of sex and vice, appetites and irrational cravings. he drank often in front of ladies like you, at bars or in beds, whose gazes wracked over him, and he fed off of human energy.

over time, after a handful of centuries, he had gotten bored of playing the same old games in bed. jungkook knew what he wanted, however, he was never able to satisfy that itch in the back of his throat, yearning for something to quench his sinful thirst.

he was tired, watching from atop the hill nearby, where he watched the sun rest for the night. just like you had. the darkness of the night overtook the city of seoul and jungkook knew it was his hour to strike; to feed his thirst.

so, the demon went after you, hovering over your small figure over the pathetic excuse of a bed. the soft rising and falling of your chest and the soft snores that escaped from your mouth once in a while, was all the proof jungkook needed that you were fast asleep.

jungkook extended his hand towards you, brushing his knuckles on your cheek, a tremor coursing through his body as a result of the contact. the energy you were emitting caused every molecule in his body to twitch in response. captivating.

oh how badly he wanted a taste.

when you stirred a little, a small groan leaving your lips, jungkook stilled. had you woken up? however, it was just a small movement you were causing in your sleep which allowed you to further curl up against the pillow.

he grinned.

it was time.

"let's go in that dream of yours, shall we?"

-

when he opened his eyes again, jungkook didn't expect himself to be in the same bar, be in the same exact position as before. however, this time, you were looking directly at him with your hungry eyes, mimicking his.

ever since heaven had decided to clip his wings, jungkook gave up on the little purity he had left, letting himself follow his heart.

so that's why he felt no shame in eyeing your figure up and down multiple times.

it wasn't necessarily anything that stood out about you, but it was just the aura you were giving off, that sweet feminine scent that lingered near the air around you, that small curve of your lips. but it might have mostly been the way you called for him, despite not knowing his name.

"hello, handsome."

jungkook didn't really have a preference when coming to his targets. he didn't prefer virgins; he always thought that they were inexperienced and didn't know how to give a good head. he didn't prefer the experienced either; he always thought that they knew too much and made the sex too sloppy. it was somewhere in between. and by the looks of it, you seemed like the perfect target. it had his insides churning, a long yearning for a good fuck. he thought he was going crazy.

throughout his centuries of living, he saw empires and clans of royalty fall and rebuild itself, being reborn. he didn't go out of his way to feel good, but he took whatever the universe offered to him. in this case, it was you.

when the surroundings suddenly changed to a much quieter one, where no one was bumping into each other, jungkook furrowed his eyebrows. it did not, however, take him long to notice that you were in the premises of your bedroom, the small plants on your windowsill being a huge clue.

“who are you?” you inquired, your voice scarcely audible. smirking, the man took a step forward. in contrast to his sparkling eyes, the moonlight from the window follows his body flawlessly, giving him a blue tone on his skin. you became aware of his exposed skin due to his lack of clothing. as you took in his powerful body, a flicker of longing tingled between your legs.

the man stayed deafeningly silent. instead, the man crept onto the bed, trailed by what appeared to be a shadow. you kept a tight eye on his every move because you couldn't move. you felt yourself spreading your legs wide as he crept over top of you. you had a tremendous want to feel him and be completely consumed by him.

despite being a demon, a sex demon (literally), jungkook still understood the morals of consent, making sure it was his top priority. after all, he wouldn't want it if he was in your position.

"are you okay with what's going to happen?" his words were like a captivating chime in your ears, quickly relaxing you and making you desire more. you found yourself placing our hands on his shoulders in order to feel his silky skin. how was it possible for a man to be both burning hot and icy cold at the same time? the dampness between your legs was unbearable, and you were drawn to him with all your might. your nipples perked beneath your shirt as you didn’t wear a bra to bed, you remembered. this made sense. something you remembered vividly. just a shirt and panties was all you wore to bed. clearly you must be dreaming, so you may as well indulge without regret.

"y-yes." you dropped your hands to grasp your shirt and pull it over your head to display your nakedness while looking into the man's eyes. with a hunger for your every move, he kept an eye on you. as he glanced over you, his throat vibrated with a palpable growl. you noticed he was completely hard as your gaze slid down your body with his. in a humble tone, you inquire, "is this real? this isn't a dream, is it?"

the man's grin makes your entire body twitch. you feel him quickly remove your underpants and fling it somewhere off the bed. you become acutely aware of the excitement between your legs as well as the heat emanating from his body. he lowers himself still more until he's right up against your door.

“would you prefer to be dreaming... or would you prefer to be here with me?” the man inquires, his tone innocent but with a sinister undertone.

when you reached for your thighs to give yourself some relief, there was nothing there. as your eyes scanned your surroundings, all you could feel was the chill of your own flesh. red. your vision was completely red. it was almost as if someone had brought in a red mood lamp and shone it throughout the room. it was entirely painted in a bright crimson color. your epidermis. the walls on all four directions. it was all red.

everything seemed hazy and perplexing, and you wondered where you were. you were in a new environment. some may even argue it was a living hell.

you sat up and wrapped yourself in the nearest blanket you could locate before standing up. warm wooden floorboards greeted your bare feet. “what?” kneeling down, you firmly pressed your hand on the wood once again to be sure you weren't hallucinating, but then again, what's to say you weren't hallucinating the whole thing?

'im not a lunatic... you thought to yourself as the warm sensation of the wood stretched across your palm. you straightened up and looked about your flat, trying to figure out what you could do about the red. you stood up straight and began to look around your apartment to see if there was anything you could do about the red. nibbling on your lower lip gently, you stood up straight and began to look around your apartment to see if there was anything you could do about the red.

the door to your bedroom squeaks open just as you were ready to turn on the light switch. the sound reverberated throughout the room with such eerie intensity that you were nearly persuaded your tv had turned back on and was showing yet another horror movie. then something happened. from your room, a man who could only be described as the devil strolled in as if he owned the place. you would be fascinated by this man's beauty if he hadn't just walked in like that. a scar runs from the left side of his jaw all the way down to his neck, giving him a strong jawline. his delicate yet sharp-looking features are caressed by soft wild hair, and his adorable small head is adorned with two pointy horns. it was the eyes, though, that drew your attention.

not the fact that he emerged from your room shirtless. nor the fact that he had claws and a commanding tail swishing back and forth. no, it was those soulless black eyes that were piercing right through you. your very being. you were in some type of trans as the mystery man - no, not man - thanks to those black coals. devil. That sounded more like it.

you couldn't take your gaze away, but as your feet shuffled you further away from this entity, they did all the thinking for you. it only appeared to encourage the beast to keep going before you pressed up against him and the wall. as you summoned the strength to speak up, your grip on the blanket trembled a little. “wh-what are you looking for?” your voice faded away quietly.

the devil had smirked at your frailty and little dread before running a clawed hand through your unkempt hair “i'm starving, my love.” before leaning in and drinking in your aroma, it spoke in the lowest, almost infantile voice. “won't you feed me nice and well, love? after all, you did want this to be real, right?” you weren't sure if it was the tone of his voice or the proximity, but you nodded in accord.

he grabbed your neck and ran his tongue across his lips before taking you into a harsh but passionate kiss. soft cherry red lips ravished your lips in a ravenous embrace while his hands roamed across your body, grasping and groping everything it could find.

a deep moan emerged from both of you as you felt the tightness of his jeans against your leg, causing a burning feeling. the burning of want burned through your skin everywhere he touched, everywhere he invaded with his mouth, hands, and body. it was almost a nasty, twisted euphoria that made your cunt clench around nothing in eagerness.

as the unnamed monster looked you up and down, an almost animalistic growl exited his throat as he took a deep inhale, you gasped for air. “love, you smell so fucking amazing for me.” he spoke in hushed tones through little pockets of air. “you're so delicious that i could devour you whole.”

the very thought of doing so appeared to amuse him, as he let out a brief but malicious laugh before narrowing his focus to the blanket still clinging to you.

with a scowl on his face, he clasped his larger hand around the one holding the blanket in place before yanking at it, only to have you keep it in place. the devil, with his head cocked to the side, gazed at you, perplexed, as if he didn't understand what you were doing.

“it's just that,” you murmured, tightening your jaw at the gaze those empty eyes gave you like a chill up your spine, "i feel comfortable like this...” you muttered the last bit, swallowing any spit you had.

but there was no justification or apology for him, so he raised his claw into the air and cut the blanket, ripping it open wide.

fear, as well as the lust racing through your veins, were clouding your judgment once more. the notion that his claws were so near to slicing you terrified you and turned you on like nothing you'd ever experienced. it gave a sense of how perilous it was to be so near to this creature, which was part of what made it so thrilling.

"baby, nothing is safe when i'm around."

those words, on the other hand, did it for you. you reached out to him as soon as you dropped the tattered blanket on the floor, exposing yourself to him. you drew him back into another intense kiss by wrapping your arms around him and springing up to wrap your legs around his waist. as he grasped your thighs to keep you in place, he was caught completely off guard by your sudden bravery.

each passing breath spent on one another battling for control, hips sliding up against each other as your damp panties rubbed up against his encaged dick, which was most definitely pressing painfully against the denim trousers he was wearing, made the kiss more hungry and animal-like. the cool contact of skin moving up against your back and down your underwear made you whimper.

despite his animalistic state, you always thought he was beautiful, a rare creature. "you're beautiful," you murmured, oblivious to the fact that you were saying it aloud. he laughed with his head tilted back. his neck was big and thick, but it was the raised markings that went all the way around it that caught your eye; they were woven together like chains, as if he had been choked with scorching metal.

the demon kissed you long and hard, barely pausing to breathe. His tongue was lengthy and had a split down the center. it was a novel experience that was strangely addictive. you became engrossed in the way it encircled your own. with his fangs, the monster simply paused to tug on your lower lip. as his hand moved down to your thigh, you let out a faint little groan.

he sang, “such a good girl,” as he drew you up into his arms. Jungkook snatched you up like feather. as you placed your legs around his tiny waist, his arms bulged. before he entered your room, he gave you a lengthy, scorching kiss. you had your arms around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair and scraping against the base of one of his horns as an experiment.

the devil looked down at you as you lay on your bed, his crimson eyes flashing in the dim light. only those eyes and the white-tipped base of his horns could be seen with the moon blearily seeping through your blinds. it felt as though the monster beneath your bed had arrived to devour you. slowly, he moved his hand up the wall, flicking on the light and bathing you both in a golden glow.

you eventually let your gaze drift away from his, focusing on his toned chest, tight waist, and muscular thighs. when you noticed the bulge yearning to be freed from his pants, you licked your lips. he finally went closer, his lips brushing against yours as he crept between your legs. his hands crept up to the band of your shorts, the heat of his palm scorching and heavy on your bare thighs.

he yanked your shorts down your hips and flung them behind him as he kissed you. he tore through your shirt even quicker, softly cursing as he saw your naked breasts. you yanked on his shirt, trying to get a better look at him and to touch every scrap of exposed flesh you could discover. he sat back and yanked his shirt off, displaying golden skin stained with crimson ink and muscular abs that rippled with each breath. you were so focused on his appearance that you almost missed the expression in his eye as he glanced down at you.

“fuck, you look like an angel,” he said, reaching down to rip your panties apart, only to shred them. your moist lips were exposed by the chilly air as you gasped. at the sight, he bit his lower lip and groaned. “very gentle and plaint." slowly, he ran his hands down your body, starting at the rib cage and working their way down to your thighs.

his fingers became hotter and hotter along the way, till they were on the verge of burning. until he came to your knees and quickly shoved your legs apart and up, crimson streaks remained on your skin. smirking at your hiss of pain, his palms pushed your thigh back till they touched your chest. “so ready to be used,” he states.

"please do."

“well, angel, since you asked so nicely,” he leaned very close to your cunt and licked a lengthy strip. his forked tongue slithered inside your slit, relishing in the lengthy groan that came out of your mouth. he swirled above the opening for a minute, then slipped just the tip of it inside when you finally relaxed against him.

jungkook gradually started penetrating your pussy with his tongue. the warm, slithery appendage that slithers in and out of you with increasing ease, flicking at your g-spot and making you whine in delight. you exhaled with relief when he licked up to your clit, only to scream when he clamped his mouth over the delicate nub and sucked hard enough for you to see stars.

moans and groans emitted from your lips and the demon could have sworn he had never heard anything prettier. his mouth salivates against your lips, only causing him to dip down near your entrance and trail his tongue back to your little nub. oh how sweet you were.

"my angel's already close to cumming?" there was no denying that. he had already noticed you were quickly approaching your high by the way you tugged on his locks and the way your moans became higher in pitch.

the demon took two of his long fingers and slipped them into your pussy, a squelching noise emitting from the action. you tugged so hard on your lips that it was plump and swollen, the irony blood almost spilling from them. he quickly started pumping his fingers and curling it, sending you seeing stars. he wanted you to get ready for the real deal (aka his cock).

"god, please fuck me, please please i'm so close to cumming but i wanna cum on your cock, please," if it weren't for you sounding so pretty and desperate for him, the demon would have prolonged the foreplay.

“there is no ‘god' here,” he hissed, sliding two fingers inside your pussy and sucking hard on your clit as you almost shouted in delight. his fingers curled within you quickly, drawing you closer to the brink. your fingers ran aimlessly through his hair, yanking it back to keep him near. you scratched on one of his horns with your nails.

it wasn't until another orgasm crashed upon you that the demon stopped.

you were spent; messy hair, hazy eyes, drool dripping down your chin and onto your neck and some parts of your chest.

as sly as a fox, you felt jungkook pressing his heavy length on your clit, the warmth and hardness of it evident in the way it pressed up against the little nub. jungkook evilly rutted against the bundle, sending sharp pleasures erupting from the mere action.

you thought he would stop at a few thrusts, however, jungkook had other plans in mind. those being seeing you completely helpless underneath him (not like you weren't before).

with one more came a push, your insides clenching and squeezing the head of his cock like a vice. jungkook stills above you; only the tip in and you're already this tight? he allows a shaky breath to reveal itself from his throat, the sound coming out a little more strangled and choked that he intended it to be.

you took him inch by glorious inch. the two of you reveled in the pleasure, drinking off of each other's moans and heat.

the rest of the night was spent in each other's arms. it wasn't romantic, but it sure as hell was full of pleasure.

[cloudninetonine]

!!!TRIGGER WARNING!!! Hoo boy so i went on a hell of a ramble and accidentally mentioned some super dark stuff so TW for mentions(?) of: self-harm, mental illness, implied discrimination and abuse, dark thoughts, social/societal(?) conditioning, social/societal issues/corruption, negative self-esteem, implied PTSD, mentioned panic attacks, INCREDIBLY long all-over-the-place ask sorry VERY stream-of-conciousness

You know the post where someone's like "well if I get kidnapped by the fae that's the fae's problem" and someone compares that to "bold of you to assume I have blood"? Anyway Player!AU. "I do not control the brain!" "It fuckin WIMDY" "I have the survival instincts of a wet paper bag" smthn smthn Twiddy anyway I feel like there is. SO much potential and I cannot describe to you how much I'm excitedly (internally) vibrating right now.

Also I feel like Player would still bully Legend for his height and NO ONE ELSE (unless they start it) even if they were 5'2" lol. Maybe threaten to forcefeed him his kneecaps. Or sautee his teeth. I might be sleepy 💖😘 just the most Cursed(TM) shot teaching them what real fear is. And flirting through intimidation lol because they don't know how. And simultaneously being terrified of the bear Wild's got and wanting so badly to name it Sir Bearington and/or reenact the smoothie meme

ANOTHER THOUGHT: WHAT IF THERE WERE TWO PLAYERS. COMPLETE STRANGERS. SPEAKING ONLY IN MEMES. SINGING NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP TO THE OTHER INNOCUOUSLY UNTIL THEY SHRIEK IN RAGE AND CHASE THEM AROUND A HERD OF BEWILDERED HEROES. TRADING HORRIFYING INFODUMPS ON BUGS AND DEEP SEA CREATURES OR SOME SUCH. BEING GENERALLY INCOMPREHENSIBLE AND UNKNOWABLE AND UNINTENTIALLY BECOMING CRYPTIDS. ARGUING OVER WHETHER LYNELS ARE INSECTS BECAUSE THEY'RE CENTAUR-LIKE. USING WORDS LIKE SKRUNKLY (and arguing over the differences from scrungly), BLORBO, GLUP SHITTO, BASED, MOOD, "oh worm? then squirm," dancing on goatman's bridge, "GREAT GOOGLY MOOGLY IT'S ALL GONE TO SHIT!" good lordy i need to stop lol. SHARING JOY THAT NO ONE ELSE UNDERSTANDS BUT IS TENTATIVELY SUPPORTIVE OF. Subtly making fun of the Daisy(dorky?) Chain (affectionate). Using "little shit" and "fuck" in many different ways and confusing and scandalizing everyone else. Two weirdos in--well, not their natural habitat exactly, but they'll make do (and make it everyone else's problem)

I was reading a fic today and there was an exchange along the lines of "hEATHEN" "but i believe in Hylia" "then start praying" and that made me think of "were i not a holy woman i would beat you senseless" "you're a 'holy woman'?" "No." Constantly finishimg each others sentences in the most nonsensical ways the chain didnt think possible. Defeating enemies with the sheer power of "wtf???" Doing/encountering something dangerous, being terrified to tears, and immediately wanting to do it again (maybe after a short break).

Casually saying super disturbing things like about how fucked up the system is and how lives only hold monetary value and continuing on with their day with the chain making horrified expressions and noises in the background

Convincing someone people only kiss on Tuesdays and Thursdays and that breakdancing is a super fancy greeting. Finding some toothpaste someone had in their pockets and icing cookies with it, then pretending they don't know what the problem is. Discovering the joys of arson translate to the real world as well as they slowly get over their (relative to the chain) intemse fear of fire. Unleashing their inner pyromaniacs. Both kicking ass and sucking at hidden role games due to the sheer AUDACITY. The whiplash between super timid (henlo anxiety) and outrageously obnoxious and bubbly joy. Someone complaining about being in "giggly bitch mode" during a bubbly joyful gigglefest. Someone trying to throttle the other after speaking in owo too long. The contrast between childish glee as they're experiencing this world of magic and goddesses IN-PERSON for the first time; vs possible cynicism, nihilism, pessimism, depression, anxiety, trauma, constant downplaying of said trauma, "others have it so much worse" AND THEY DO but trying to get it through their heads that doesn't mean they didn't also have it rough. Explaining things like hostile architecture and the homeless good lord the chain WOULD NOT react well. Automatically assuming someone is mad at YOU, not just having a bad day. Telling someone what you think they want to hear so they won't hurt you as much/as directly. There is so much potential for the chain being disturbed by their behavior, then being even MORE so once they realize those are LEARNED behaviors, like submitting instead of running or fighting and punishing onself. Getting into all sorts of super dark stuff super quickly with no warning, then continuing on with the conversation like nothing happened. DID RULIE HEAL THE CAFFEINE ADDICTION HOLY FUCK YES. Player with different brain wiring/chemical imbalances trying to make the others understand why they need to rely on their adrenaline addiction and panic themself into doing the dishes. The chain being disturbed at how horrible they are at taking care of themself/ves (and the possible intentional self-sabotaging and -harm, even/especially subconciously)

Calling Twi, Time, and Legs furries and refusing to explain. Leggplant. Singing Wellerman and wondering if Wind knows it. Accidentally fudgin your words and saying "Warnut" and callin him that when hes bein too obnoxious/holdin things outta reach (because his nuts are probably protected by a metal plate, it's too awkward to ask, and you don't wanna find out yourself,,,even with steel-toed boots). Talking about SPAAAAAACE and terrifying and aweing everyone. A somethong-or-rather starts swinging slightly, unprompted, no wind, and immediately relentlessly mocking it. Making stupid faces and noises when you're (irrationally?) scared, like if its super dark and you only have a torch. 30-second dance parties when needed. "The floor is lava!" and the ensuing chaos. Sacrificing someone (coughIcan'tpickonecough) to the lava.

Wind: *memes*

Players: ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF-

Have you read the fic "ridiculous optimization: the art of finding the wrong(?) tool for the right(?) situation"? Pulling stuff like that. CHAOS. Breaking hearts, minds, and rules (and 'Rules, poor lad knowing just who Player is and becoming well-acquainted with their native brand/language of insanity)

Having no combat skills whatsoever (or people skills, according to Player), but if there's a math puzzle (like algebra/geometry) or a riddle or a word puzzle or--just. Puzzles. They'll figure it out (even if it takes a while and a lot of frusterated tears)

Walking back into the room you just left to go get the thought you left behind. Brain refusing to do. No thoughts, head empty, braincells are that SpongeBob meme where they're all screaming and everything is on fire. Queer Panik(TM). Annoying the pubby (Wolfie) because you know he won't hurt you (all bark no bite). Struggling to remember the word for a leaf so you call it a "boney boneless green vegan patty hand thing." Drawing a smiley face on someone's face in permanant marker. Up(down)grading them to UwU

I may have been thinking about Player AUs for a WHILE and been stocking up. Oops 🤗😬😓

AAAAAA I LOVE THIS SO MUCH LET'S DO THIS!!

The Player being the emboidment of "I've met some insufferable people but those people have also met me"

The potential you talk about? I plan on writing that shit. This Player, while acting normally to the circumstances they will face will be dragged kicking and screaming while playing it off as a joke the entire time.

Also the idea of another Player? Absolute anarchy. Gremlin stance and both ready to fight, the Chain don't understand, wouldn't you be happy with someone else there with you?! But here you are pulling at each other's hair and screaming things they don't understand.

"THIS TOWN AINT BIG ENOUGH FOR THE BOTH OF US, FUCKER"

"THEN START FUCKING RUNNING, CLOWN"

It's like siblingship but they're 2 complete strangers.

If you know Fred and George from Harry Potter (Fuck JK fucking Terf cunt) then that would be their dynamic.

Just trauma dumping as well.

"Parents made me walk home in the dark after 'back talking' them in the car, you?"

"Single mum, but she's awesome, however, my brother used to terrorise me when she wasn't home. Chased me with a knife on more than one occasion, even a chainsaw, threatened to kill me if I told anyone though. Wasn't surprised to find out he was a narcissist"

"Fucking hell dude"

Hyrule just "Both of you here, now, I'm giving you hugs"

(Players being American and English respectively because that's just how I see it)

Brain, head empty until it comes to puzzles. One's like "Puzzles, Puzzles, Puzzles!" and the other's like "....Puzzles"

The Chain just have to witness them shouting at each other about possible answers before another fight breaks out that they have to pull apart.

"STOP GASLIGHTING ME"

"I'M NOT GASLIGHTING YOU, YOU'RE JUST DUMB"

Just complete chaos

[29-04-2001]

helloooo, may I have a tears of Themis matchup? 👀

A lot of people have very contrasting opinions about me, some say I’m very talkative while others say I’m extremely quiet. My entire personality basically changes depending who in with, I’m either fading into the background or the centre of attention who knows 👁👁, im talkative to people that im comfortable with though. But usually I just take a step back and let other lead the way, Im a very patient and calm person and having long-deep conversations about almost anything with people that I take interest is a thing that I love to do! I have a hard time communicating with most people about my feelings because I don’t know it myself, even when I have excellent social skills im naturally inclined to stay silent. Im an especially reliable/caring person, everybody always come to me for some kind of help, even if it’s small things like borrowing a pen or comforting them when they’re sad or…..doing their work, i kinda am too reliable sometimes and some people take advantage of that. I have a very…questionable past so I would love a partner that could comfort me and to spend time with me (I love receiving quality time hehe)

Having no dominant left/right brain makes my thinking way more complex than it needs to be 😂 , most of the time when it comes to situational problems im a very logically brutal person, I like using factual evidence and being methodical to the point that I have no sense of morality-/hj but at the same time im also a professional illustrator that loves to paint and visualize things, i like doing things creatively and generally creating artworks that people relate to and/or enjoy ^^. I’m not afraid to be honest so sometimes I come off as very harsh or mean to some people and it chips away my heart a bit 🥲, so recently I’ve only been giving useful criticism or honest opinions with people that I trust. (I act like I don’t care and I’ll like it anyways but in truth I’m a very picky person 🤡). I see the world in many different perspectives and I’m an understanding person, I’m not always one thing or the other it rlly depends on my mood haha.

My hobbies are doing almost any kind of arts like drawing/painting, (listening to) music, acting, etc…and also very niche things like tarot reading, eating fancy cheeses binging and reviewing tv shows. I sometimes do gaming as-well! Here’s a few of my favorite artists, Tame Impala, きくはな(Kikuhana/Hanatan), Joe Hisashi, Margaux and a wild card Graham Kartna. 💫 (INFJ-Virgo Sun)

hiii thank you for requesting <3 i match you with artem wing ! i hope you like it ;) @itscrystalcloudy

it’s safe to say that artem is a quiet person. however, he is pretty vocal about his opinions, unlike you, he’s calm and collective during arguments. he’s definitely the first to apologise even tho he did nothing wrong. he just doesn’t like arguing with you.

he loves having deep conversations with you. whether that’ll be you talking about any recent cases you’ve worked on or just you talking about your day.

he is a very well known attorney. he’s very experience with his job so if you’re ever stuck on something, he’s definitely one to help you. he’s a patient man and will guide you through everything. he sees the potential.

he loves that you’re creative. he likes watching you draw and paint. when you first introduced your hobby of acting to him, he’s very supportive. everything you do he thinks you’re very good at.

aside from all that, he really likes how you match his calm nature.

he prefers calming music, and i like to imagine he listens to the neighbourhood, specifically, The Beach, but when you introduce him to Kikuohana, he started liking it & you guys share headphones while taking turns picking what to listen to :)

matchups: open :)

[thunyielding]

Though she was sure that her brother would not claim the sudden upheaval from London to Dover a blessing, Elizabeth had found the arrangement quite to her liking. Not only had she been given the surrogacy of a regency in the stead of William’s forthwith absence, but also the time it took up thus meant that Elizabeth was far too busy to dwell on the ache that throbbed in her chest with uneasy, almost thunderous beats. She had occupied herself with letters sealed by her signet ring, her pen scribbled to the name of the council sent to Florence with the rumour of her late father’s illegitimate child newly found, and then to the incoming visit of her sister before making some note to be sent beneath the curtain of darkness to the King and her mother. Then, as was her duty, she would sit and take petitions as her ladies lay in wait around their Mistress. To court, Elizabeth wanted nothing amiss, nothing to be whispered about in chance of what was to come nor to the double-edged sword that came with the absence of the Tudor King. 

She was, of course, still furiously angry with what had passed in the two months that had taken the court by storm — but most of what she had once thought was then nothing but ash collected from the fire grate and passed into thin air. But it was a hard road to climb when everything had once been done with he by her side — her horses, well bred and cared for with the same love she thought her people took to her own noble self, had only ever seen her Eye as a counterpart to their excursions,and so had been left to the green fields beyond Hampton to stretch their own fine legs. Even card games remained a constant torment, and so, Elizabeth had turned to hold a sober household of fine theological debates, dramatic retellings of the Giants that had once called England their home and then to the secret whispers from messengers whom she had sent in some wish of knowing more than one could really offer. 

So, then to be faced with his sour features left the Regent with pursed lips and a narrowed, venomous gaze. Yet was she not a fool for him? One noise was enough to leave Elizabeth to flounder like a fish caught outside of water. How did he have such a grip on her person? Even if he had performed his duty as a husband and Earl, Elizabeth had somewhat thought that he would practice a certain type of restraint, that he would savour her own taste rather than his wife’s, who had more than enough offspring to play pretend as a happy little family. And so, it would never be as easy as that, to break ranks and embrace him as she had done many times before. Instead she held herself upright, her lips stern set into a neutral line, the dark glare of her gaze settled just passed his shoulder in some effort to not look directly into his own wandering eye. 

“Thrilled is not the word I would’ve used,” she snipped, a single finger flexed to give her ladies an adieu, sending them into the surrounding corridors where they could wait to begin the Princess’ nighttime ritual of brushing her hair, oiling her hands and devout prayer. Once they were gone, Elizabeth finally looked at him, the whites of her eyes set against the colour of her iris in terrific contrast as her throat pressed against the pearl inlay of her collar, her dress cut high upon her chest, the brocade fashioned in her trademark crimson. “You are meant to be in Dover, or did His Majesty find himself without need of your arrival?” An open taunt, her eyelids lowering to look across his surface of costume. His wife, his jointress — had she the wilds of her mother she would’ve sought her demise by then, but there were more than enough rumours that floated around Elizabeth’s inheritance that came in the form of her father’s temper, the threat of her wrath a constant plague upon her ladies who had been dealing with her violent mood since the mysterious letter had broken between her hands. “I do not blame him, what could you do for him? He has all the men one would want: Percy, Boleyn… Who is ever in need of a Dudley?”

@thunyielding

The hills of Hampton Court were blurry with rain; reduced to swaths of aqueous gray and green, wobbling over the horizon, the earth’s distant curve imperceptible from the royal stables. Dudley glides a leather-gloved hand across his horse’s chest, the Jennet's heartbeat thrumming through the spectacular knot of muscles encasing her lungs, glowering as the beast swings her long neck and hinges her doleful gaze to his. ‘What is it, girl?’ Leicester murmurs, scratching behind her ears and earning an appreciative whinny from his – notoriously volatile – Hestia. ‘Where’s the harm in a little rain?’ He asks, the pitter-patter on the roof almost too gentle to hear: a soft drum, a splash into the sopping-wet ground, hissing and gurgling as it drains into the gutters. Hestia husks out a nicker, returning Dudley’s query with marked ambivalence.

They hadn’t much time to ready. Less than an hour to primp and preen, to saddle Hestia with the bulky weight of the Earl’s armory and caparisons, for come morning, Dudley would be, with the rest of the King’s middling retinue, riding hotly out to Dover; facing at least a two-day journey (three, if the grounds remained pulpy) galloping full out across the rutted, boggy fields of England, clods of deep-chilled earth flying from the hooves of King William’s destriers; speed and glory hampered by decorum and the lay-of-the-land, all forced to tarry behind the King and his ever-growing string of paramours. What lay ahead in Dover brought yet another lour to Leicester’s lips, deepening the lines of consternation flanking his mouth. He turns his face, dark as a cloud, to the sound of nimble footfalls crunching over a smattering of hay, a halo of humidity-wizened hair fanning about Elizabeth’s oval-shaped face. Hestia swished her tail, clouting against the stable doors. But with an ease for which he was lauded to command his geldings, Dudley held Hestia at bay, the stony arrangement of his brow not yet revealing the tempest of emotions he felt at Elizabeth’s presence.

Bess … Her name ghosts across his lips long before he musters the good sense to curtail such familiarity. ‘Your Highness,’ The Earl greets, his voice gruff, as Hestia releases a disgruntled neigh, white vapour blowing from her nostrils. Dudley then lowers himself into a deep bow before the Princess, one hand at his abdomen and the other conducting a flourish. ‘I hear I am to congratulate you, lady regent. You have all that you desire now – the crown jewels, your brother's power, and a court of ready subjects.’ Decidedly grim, he punctuates, ‘you must be thrilled.’