#i might do more of these bc they're good practice

[bunnihearted]

🍷

[ito-itonomen]

I recently read that blood can hypothetically be used in Baking as a substitute for eggs and this obviously reminded me of toh bc it's been over a year and that show still lives in my frontal lobe lmao

Like, when I first heard Lilith talking about making all those blood based recipes w Gwendolyn I thought "yeah that checks out it's the boiling isles where people eat spiders and eyeballs why wouldn't they cook with blood too"

But now I'm actually thinking it could be deeper than that?

Griffin eggs are expensive, they're not cheap to keep in the house and they're an awkward size too, once you crack one open, you can't exactly use part of it and then store the rest for later, at least not easily, and even so it would spoil quickly. (This I know from experience due to some expiriments in curing egg yolks lol)

Spiders have been mentioned to give milk, and it's likely that spider eggs are also sold, probably pretty damn cheap in bulk too, but spider eggs are more similar to fish roe, and wouldn't be any good for baking.

So, what do you do if you're from a poor or lower income household and want to make a batch of cookies or maybe a cake for your kid's birthday?

You use blood. A cheap, easy to come by staple in any market, available in all varieties from fruit blood to livestock, can be kept in a frozen until you need it, and full of nutrients and similar enough in the makeup of it's proteins to be used as a substitute for eggs.

And magic has been able to keep food frozen for hundreds of generations. Only wealthier individuals might know a good baking recipe involving eggs, but every common witch and their mother has some old box or notebook tucked away in the kitchen containing some faded recipe in great great grandma Meabh's handwriting for a nice blood velvet cake or blood sugar cookie.

In summery I think that in the owl house universe baking with blood is actually a charming practice rooted in multigenerational witch culture and a staple of hard times.

The only reason we wouldn't see Eda cooking with blood, naturally, would be due to Luz's dietary restrictions forcing her to go the much more expensive route but I bet king has all sorts of cute childhood memories of Eda baking those old family recipes from her own childhood and the smell of bloody sausages for breakfast and fango-blood bread on a rainy day

[jwonsite]

thoughts on kinks that jungwon has?

literally am GIGGLINGGG at this ask omg

breath play: i SO MFING STRONGLY BELIEVEEE that won would love having control of when you breath 💔 he loves knowing that you trust him enough to let him do that and indulges in it soooo freaking much. he will almost always have his hand around your neck squeezing just enough to restrict your air supply. also ties into my head pusher won agenda cuz he 100 percent pushes your head down onto his dick when youre giving him head to see how long u can last without air :(( i could also see him using a pillow to muffle your sounds/moans if you guys are fucking while the other members are home

size kink: oh my goodness he literally goes insane. this mostly goes for if you are shorter than him,, bc he would just love seeing how small you are compared to him. esp since hes already one of the shortest ones in enha, seeing how youre even smaller than him makes him go insaneeee. loves seeing how easily he can pick you up and move you around, and how big he looks when youre holding his dick in your hands

somno: now this might be a lil controversial but he would love being able to use your body to get himself off in the middle of the night and vice verse. this is especially important to him since he practices late a lot,, and sometimes you (or him!) would be too tired to have sex that night. loves waking you up with oral or rutting his hips against your ass,, and will sometimes cum in his pants before you even wake up :( he also loves when he wakes up to you grinding on his dick or thighs, sometimes pretending to still be asleep to hear your pretty moans for him even while he's "asleep"

exhibitionism: this might also be a little controversial,, but i def think its more in the sense of having people hear you guys, more than watching. we all know he's a very jealous boy,, so he loves when you moan loudly for all his members to hear when they're home,, so that they know you're his, and that he's the only one that can make you feel this good. i do think he also likes the idea of getting caught, often fooling around in more public settings like the living room or kitchen while the boys are home, under the dinner table while you are having dinner, and even sometimes in dressing rooms at clothing stores

[beomiracles]

congrats to 500 !! you deserve even more <3 I love pretty princess sm and now my brain is overridden with royalty and txt prince au so I'm sorry to request for your 500 event but I must you write too well. 😭💕 so imagine prince! beomgyu this time and whilst he's so incredibly handsome and the whole kingdom fawns over him, he's also the most mischievous troublesome prince ever so the king (his father), fed up, decides to marry him off and arrange a marriage to reader since he's so reckless and reader is the complete opposite and since she's also a princess and both their families are close and have a good relationship. Back when they were younger, their families would always meet at each other's palaces a lot because they're close but reader and beomgyu would never really get along, especially reader she's always hate beomgyu's guts bc of how reckless and annoying he is to her and reader is really uptight. So they haven't seen each other since they were kids until the arranged marriage and can't say neither of them are too happy about it...+ smut if it somehow works 😭 Idk if that makes any sense but I love you and your work and happy 500 !!

500 BASH SPECIAL

#serene adds ✎... my dear pretty princess you will always be famous. *melancholic sigh* oh but this idea was sm fun! though I might have lost the plot a little along the way oopsies..! HOWEVER I still think it turned out good so I hope it doesn't disappoint ε(´｡•᎑•`)っ 💕 i did see your second ask for sub!gyu hehe so i tried to include it!

wc -> 1.9k

pairings prince!beomgyu x princess!reader warnings maybe a lil angsty? elements of cheating, slight dom/sub dynamics, sub!beomgyu, dom!reader, implied inexperienced reader, handjob, unprotected sex, tiny bit of marking.

The door to your shared bedchamber quietly closes and you can hear the light footsteps darting across the room as your husband carefully makes his way over to the bed you shared. After quickly shuffling out of his clothes, Beomgyu takes place next to you on the large mattress, seemingly unaware of the fact that you were still awake. 

“Where have you been all day?” Your voice rings out into the darkness of the room and you can feel him go stiff beside you. — You knew that your marriage was merely out of convenience and that your husband held no affection for you, yet you couldn’t help but feel hurt at his blatant absence. It wasn’t exactly unusual for your bed to remain empty of his presence. 

Beomgyu clears his throat and you can feel him shift next to you. “I had a few things to take care of”, he mumbles and you refuse a scoff. His words were scattered with yet another handful of lies for you could smell the liquor on him. — “Did you talk to your father about the ball we’re arranging next week?” You ask, though his following silence gave you all the answers you needed. 

He sighs, an exhausted and almost irritated sigh. “I’ll do it tomorrow”, he grumbles and you roll your eyes. You had known him almost your whole life and he had always been like this, uncaring and outright reckless. And while he might’ve gotten away with his deceiving ways of living, as a teen, it was seriously taking a toll on both his reputation on your marital duties as adults. — More than often did you find yourself straying by your work desk until early morning as you plowed through your workload; while your husband spent his days engaging in all but his royal duties. 

“Don’t bother.” You sigh as you lean back against your pillow. There’s a brief pause before you feel him shift once more, “what?”, he asks as he props himself up on his elbows. “I said don’t bother. I’ll do it.” You grit out before turning your back on him, hugging your arms around your body as you screwed your eyes shut. You can practically hear his inner battle as he fumbles for words. “Beomgyu, it’s fine, I’ll do it. Just go to sleep.” You mumble as you pull the duvet over your chest. 

You’re startled when you suddenly feel his warm hand on your shoulder. “Is something wrong?” He quietly wonders and you almost want to laugh. “No, why would it be?” You mutter as you shrug his hand off. — “Well you’re acting…distant”, he comments as he flops back down against the mattress. This time you can’t resist the scoff that leaves your lips, “I’m acting distant? I thought that was what you wanted, no?” 

“When did I say that?” He grunts as stares up against the dark ceiling. You actually could not believe him. “When?” You snort, “you’re asking me when?” The silence that follows makes your eyebrows knit together in a frown, “everyday”, you finally state, your voice merely a whisper. “You leave me alone, cooped up in piles of work while you’re out doing heaven knows what, sometimes you don’t even come home, what are you doing then? Busy spending all our resources on the nearest brothel?” Your rant ends with a small huff as you close your eyes in exhaustion. 

You try your best to ignore the stinging feeling in your chest as you’re forced to listen to the quiet breathing of him next to you, wondering what you could have possibly done to warrant such an unfortunate marriage. “You refuse to look at me”, he then whispers and your eyes snap open at his words. “You always have”, he continues as he draws in a small breath. “Even back when we were kids, you refused to even glance in my direction.” 

Biting your lip, you let his words sink in. You had always resented Beomgyu, even when the two of you were still young, his reckless persona made you wrinkle your nose in disgust. You had refused to ever become associated with such a being. Whilst Beomgyu spent his late teens exploring the town's village, earning himself quite the promiscuous reputation, you stayed at home, your nose buried in whatever book had captured your interest. — When the news of your arranged marriage reached you, the only thing on your mind was to avoid the man you were to call husband at all costs. You had never once stopped to consider that he might not feel the same, that he might… 

“You want me to look at you?” 

Your words feel heavy as they leave your lips, a brief pause accompanying them before Beomgyu breathes out a quiet, “yes.” — You don’t exactly know what came over you, the years of pent up anger toward him or the longing you’d tried to deny whenever he wasn’t around. Whichever it may be, it caused you to abruptly sit up as your head snapped in his direction. “If that is what you wish.” You firmly state before swinging your leg over him, straddling his lap as you leaned over to light the candle by your bed. 

In the dim light casted by the small flame, you finally come face to face with him. Beomgyu wears a startled expression as his wide eyes blink up at your own. “Is this what you wanted?” You frown as you let your hands fall to your sides, leaning back on your knees slightly, your eyes darting across his exposed chest for a brief second. 

His large hands grab onto your waist as he pulls you down on him completely, your lips parting in surprise as you feel his bulge, pressing up against your thigh through the thin fabric of his slacks. “No”, he states before one of his hands trails up to the nape of your neck, pulling you down as he presses his lips against yours, his tongue quickly dwelling deep into your mouth. “Like this”, he mumbles as he keeps you in a firm hold. 

Your initial shock soon fades as you lean into the tender kiss, the kiss that quickly grows hotter and far more lewd with each passing second. Perhaps you had read him wrong all along, perhaps… Pulling your lip between his teeth, Beomgyu’s hand on your waist snakes down between your thighs and you immediately pull back. 

Bracing your palms against his naked chest, you catch your breath as your gaze meets his; brown eyes swirling with desire as a smirk plasters on his lips. “You okay?” He murmurs as the back of his hand envelops your cheek in a gentle caress. You close your eyes, the many lonesome nights lingering in the back of your mind despite your greatest efforts to push them away. 

Finally you look down to him once more as you shake your head. “No. No I am not.” You quietly whisper. Upon sliding back on his thighs, your hands trail along his chest before reaching the hem of his pants. — You had spent one night together, your wedding night. It had perhaps been one of the most drawn out nights of your life, and you remembered it with disdain, it had merely been out of duty. That didn’t change the fact that it remained the only experience you held, so with a small exhale you gathered yourself before sliding the fabric from his body. 

You swallow a small gulp as you eye his hard cock, eyes flitting hesitantly between it and Beomgyu’s almost daring gaze. He cocks an eyebrow at you and parts his lips as if to say something, though his words are quickly replaced by a small strangled noise as you wrap your fingers around his shaft. Truthfully, you had no clue of what you were doing but the way he squirmed as your thumb brushed against his tip caused a spark of confidence to shoot through you. 

You experimented your way forward as your other hand joined in, flicking your wrist over the head of his cock whilst the other gently squeezed around the base, pulling a harsh groan from your husband. — Propping himself up on his elbows, Beomgyu licks his lips as he reaches a hand out toward you only to be forcefully pushed back against the pillow. “Lie back down, and be still.” You command and with a look of disbelief he obliges. 

Your brows draw together as you refocus your attention toward his cock in your hands. Upping your pace ever so slightly as a sheen layer of precum spilled from his tip, running down his shaft like wax of a candle. The soft noises spilling from his lips made your cunt clench around nothing and you rubbed your thighs together in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure.

His hips bucked up against your hands and the small frown on your face deepens as your gaze snaps back up to his flustered face. “I thought I told you to be still”, you scold as you tug on his cock, making him whimper out into the hot air. Breathing out a quiet “m’sorry”, his fingers intertwine amongst the silk sheets, his knuckles growing white as he grips them tight.  

When the ache between your legs becomes almost unbearable you let out a small sigh as you hike your nightgown over your hips, repositioning yourself to hover above the leaking tip of his cock. Beomgyu bites his lip as he groans under you, eyes pleading with you as he silently asks for you to sink down on him, and you do, wincing slightly at the unfamiliar stretch, taking your time before he’s fully seethed within you. 

You let out a shaky breath as you slowly begin to move on top of him, biting back a moan as his stiff cock brushes against all your sensitive nerves. “I want you to stop going to brothels.” The statement falls from your lips without much struggle and Beomgyu whines beneath you as he tugs on the bedsheets. “Did you hear me?” Your hand grabs ahold of his chin, fingers digging into his cheeks as you force his clouded gaze to refocus on you. He meekly nods and you scoff as you let go of his face. “Then answer me.” 

“I-I’ll stop, I won’t go there -fuck- a-anymore..” He groans as he feels you clench around him. — Increasing the pace of your hips, your head threatens to fall back against the euphoric pleasure coursing through you. “I want you to sleep in here every night.” You practically demand as your nails rake along his chest, leaving angry red marks in their wake, making him arch off the mattress as he nods his head feverishly.

“Can you promise me that you’ll stop seeing those filthy whores?” You drawl as you feel your climax approaching. Beomgyu heaves a breath as he looks up at you, “yes, yes, anything you want”, he whines as he feels you grind down harsher on him, a small moan ripping from your throat as you release all over his cock, making him twitch deep inside of you. “Please, please, please..” he pleads, his eyes rolling back as his hips jerk up against yours. 

Too exhausted to push him back down you lean forward to press your lips against his neck. “Fine, I do suppose you’ve been good”, you mutter against his skin as you tenderly kiss it. Breathy moans and thank you’s leave his lips and his hips stutter as his finishes inside of your aching cunt, arms wrapping around you tightly as he pressed you further against his chest. 

You supposed your marriage wasn’t entirely hopeless after all.

taglist ✎... @theresawtf @jjklvr9 @binniebakery @beomies-world @hyukaaa @ninoshome1 @gardnhee @babymochibeargyu @lunathewritingcat @duckywuckypookiepie @naoristerling @oddracha @soohashits @junimoa03 @sendhelpiloveyeonjun @beomtasticc @369girlswannadrinkwine @gudboibeomgyu @sanasour @celestialbeomgyu @f4iryfever

(if your tag is not working please check your settings to make sure that your blog is not hidden!) if you're struggling, go here.

→ want to get notified whenever a new dream is published? join my TAGLIST ᰔ © all rights reserved ─ @beomiracles 2024

[authormars]

Headcanon dumb bc why not?

We'll do one per character since I don't do that very often

Lucifer showers in the morning and night every day and, if he can, will brush his teeth three times a day (once in the morning, once after lunch, once at night)

Mammon sleeps in nothing normally, but if MC asks him to be in their room, is sleeping in his room, or he's sleeping over at someone's house, he has the decency to put sweatpants on (unless MC doesn't want him to 👀)

Levi is amazing at art and regularly does commissions for people. In Satan's room, above all the shelves, he has posters made by Levi for his favorite shows and books.

Satan goes to varsity Fangol practice, not because he's on the team, but because he likes watching the cheerleaders practice (and he has a crush or has had a crush on half of them)

Asmo regularly takes selfcare days, which almost always include shopping and treating himself in the morning at various stores and spending the afternoon (and sometimes night) at Purgatory Hall with Solomon.

Beel will often take food from anyone, but if he notices a particular person giving him their food a lot of the time (looking at you Asmo, Luci, and MCs with an ED) he will stop accepting it to make sure they're eating.

Belphie almost never sleeps in his own bed. Beel's is warmer, much more comfortable, and it has something to cuddle that occasionally bites his shoulder as he sleeps.

Diavolo has a shower that's enchanted by Barbatos to always spit out healing water, which is part of the reason bruises never last long (the other reason is that Diavolo has a crazy good immune system and it's hard to bruise him anyways.

Barbatos fell in love with Diavolo's mother and father and they were together until Diavolo's mother died. After that, since Diavolo's father was broken-hearted, Barbatos swore off love

Mephisto has a cane because of an accident when he was younger. He rode horses for sport and during one of the races (that little Diavolo was allowed to go to, I might add) another jockey purposely knocked him off his horse, leading to a permanent injury in his leg so he limps all the time and it causes lots of pain

Solomon has lived through three different earths. The first earth, where he was a peasant. This earth was wiped out because the ecosystem was falling apart (not the human's fault, for once) but the humans were allowed to go to the next earth as the first humans. The second earth was wiped out while he was in Devildom, so he wasn't wiped out with it. The second earth was wiped out due to Lilith and Belphie. The third earth is what we know today.

Simeon can actually use his phone a lot better than he lets on. He just absolutely adores the look on Luke's face when he helps him fix something.

Luke cannot seem to get any Devildom pastry right. It's always slightly off. He knows this because Barbatos always smiles sadly at him when they do their taste tests. For the life of him, he cannot figure out what it is

Thirteen was once a human who lived in the first earth with Solomon (she hated him there too) When she died, her sins and virtues were exactly equal, so the father and mother (God and Devil herself) decided to make her a reaper, a being to watch over the newly created life candles that hindered a being's lifespan.

Raphael isn't actually indifferent to most things. As an angel, he was taught not to show his emotions and be a perfect guard for Michael (pretty sure thats what he is) so he never learned how to properly express emotions (and he's a lil autistic)

I struggled with some of these, sorry if they're bad or inaccurate. I haven't met Mephi, Thirteen, or Raphael yet

[asliceofzosan]

i've seen figure skater sanji and hockey player zoro before. idk if its been explored but i'd love to put it out there:

hockey player sanji (specifically goalie bc he desperately wants to avoid being checked) and then pairs skater zoro.

pairs skater zoro's long time partner has been nami. though many people ship them together a Lot, they just know each other super well. Well enough to try dating and both of them realized they don't swing that way. in fact, it makes them a really good team. they fought long and hard to claim top spots in competitions because they portray a chemistry that's separate from the rest. plus zoro can carry nami like she weighs fucking nothing. so their lifts are so much more dynamic. they even have a whole next to impossible combination that they're trying to get the ISU to name after them officially.

sanji plays for the East Blue Straw Hats in the Grand Line Hockey League – a formidable rookie group that took down lots of big names in the preseason. they want to make it all the way to the postseason playoff finals but always seem to fall short. but theyre so determined. they reignited a lot of old sparks that were no longer there for old fans and brought in new and curious fans. sanji is the starter goalie and a damn good one at that. it makes sense bc goalies are often doing splits on the ice just to make a save. he's perfected the technique that utilizes just his legs to make saves that make the crowd go fuckin insane.

we have the usual "i booked the rink to practice before you did" trope but a little more spice. in actuality, sanji loves watching pairs skating competitions. his favorite pair rn is franky and robin (mostly for robin). and he adamantly does not want to admit to anyone that he watches zoro and nami's routines much more frequently. (and if anyone asks, he always says its bc of nami. its never just bc of nami.) and zoro's besties with luffy so he always watches their matches even if he barely understands the rules. and he definitely does not stare at a certain blond starter goalie most of the match thats fucking ridiculous

one day zoro and sanji are invited to do one of those comparison videos between hockey players and figure skaters. both get to laugh at the other even Attempting to do their sport. zoro frankly looks ridiculous in all of sanji's usual goalie get-up. and sanji couldn't land an euler to save his life. the video producer suggests they try a simple pairs skating routine. sanji is like "oh i couldn't do that–hEY WHAT THE FUCK MOSSHEAD PUT ME DOWN" because zoro lifted sanji and had him sat on his shoulder like it was normal.

zoro smirks, "you might be lighter than nami, actually. wanna be my new partner?"

sanji knees him in the stomach before skating away while blushing so hard he could melt the ice beneath him.

[heizouz]

hi hi!! (i’m the same anon that requested your LOVELY thoma post 🤭)

ok i loved your childe post (and your scara post)… but imagine the two of them together………

imagine them both having their competitive sides come out as they wanna be so good and be your favourite, and they want all your attention…………… teehee

- (i might do some more requests in the future……. so i’m signing off as 🌱 anon)

nsfw sub!childe + sub!scaramouche + afab!reader, dumb puppy childe, good boy scara

i just want u to know u changed my life w this req bc the things i would do to have both of them at my feet …. anon ur a genius. this is probably a bit longer than what i usually write bc damn i had a lot to say… ++ you didn't specify gender so to make it easier for myself i had to settle with afab reader! im sorry if you would've preferred something else ☹️ also heed warning for faye's never ending saga of the reader calls childe puppy in everything she writes 😭

childe is loud when he wants your attention. he's all whiny tones, touchy hands, sly grins. scara is the opposite; glaring eyes, fidgety, body pressed closer than usual.

so you knew something was up when they were both clinging to you; childe's arms thrown around you, face buried in your neck with messy kisses and when you look over at scaramouche, his face is set hard, eyes piercing into childe's head whilst his fingers find yours to hold.

you'd rolled your eyes, pushing them away and telling them you'll get to them later and although childe had whined, they'd dragged themselves off, muttering and arguing at each other on their way out.

it wasn't long till they were back on you, though, their desperation oozing through their touches and presses of lips against your skin. it was almost as though they were fighting for your attention—scara climbing onto your lap when childe's kisses met your neck, childe grumbling when scara steals your attention with his tongue parting your lips. you could feel scaramouche's smirk against your mouth, and then childe's hands against your thighs and you knew the two of them were not going to stop till they were spent out and basking in your devoted attention.

that's how you ended up where you were now: childe's face stuffed between your parted legs, lapping and moaning against your drooling cunt, and scaramouche grinding against your hip, head buried in your neck as your fingers every so often tease his cock when they're not wrapped in childe's hair.

"god, you're—you're so messy." you breathe out, staring down at how childe seems to be needier than you are, bottom half of his face covered in your arousal. he meets your eyes—his pupils blown wide, pretty blue eyes practically glistening as you gently push your hips towards him more. childe just grins before he shuts his eyes, moaning obscenely against you.

your hips stutter at the vibrations, soft moans falling from your lips and at the noise, scara involuntarily presses his cock harder into your side. you chuckle lightly, slightly breathless and you turn your head to the boy. he refuses to look at you but you can see the way his dark eyebrows are furrowed, his fingers digging into his upper thigh to ground himself.

"do you want help, pretty boy?" you quietly ask, fingers brushing through his bangs. scaramouche nods, hesitantly, as if he was embarrassed at how desperate he was being.

you hum before your soft fingers grip scara's hair and tug his face from your neck. the boy gasps, eyes widening when he meets yours and you smile sweetly. "you need to say it if you really mean it, baby."

scaramouche pants quietly, eyes lidded as he stares at you, face void of any noticeable emotion but his eyes are gleaming with want.

"please." he whispers, almost as if he's out of breath and it's so pretty to hear him beg.

scaramouche's needy sounds attracts a once focused childe and he cracks his eyes open, latching onto the sight of scara fucking into your fist as your free hand runs over his arms and chest. his own chest flares with want, and an involuntary loud whine rips from his throat, pulling off from your heat to furrow his brows at you.

you oblige almost immediately, letting go of his hair to let him hide his face again as much as you'd love to see his pretty expressions. your hand falls between your bodies, slim fingers wrapping around his leaking cock. his moans are muffled against your shoulder, but the needed friction against his cock increases the volume and they're so loud and clear in your ear.

the noise grabs your attention and you can't help but curse at the state of him so stupidly in need of your constant attentiveness.

"you're so dumb," you groan, hand fisting tight into childe's orange hair, pulling his head back so his needy glassy eyes stare back at you, "my dumb pup."

childe moans at the pet name, eyes still fixed on you, fingers digging into your thighs. he's being patient, waiting for you to let him indulge in you now he's got you to notice him, so eager to please but you just keep him there for a second—fingers tight in his hair, his bright blue eyes lidded and needy, your arousal dripping from his pretty parted lips. he's such a beautiful sight.

"he does look dumb." scara announces when he lifts his head from your neck, tone monotonous but you can hear the breathlessness of awe dripping from his voice. childe whimpers, gaze flickering to scaramouche, to how he cants his hips slowly into your hand and childe's eyebrows cinch, his own hips pushing into the bed desperately at all the attention.

you can tell he's losing—his head emptying and wanting nothing but to please and to be pleased. you card your fingers softly through his hair (he leans into the touch, head dropping into your palm like a needy dog) and pout, which turns into a slight grin as he just seems to be so at ease under your touch. "keep going, pretty thing."

childe obliges in delight, eyes flickering up to watch your expression when he kisses over your clit—you push your fingers through his bangs, moving them to glance lovingly down at the boy as he takes orders from you so well.

it's so much, trying to split your attention on to the both of them, as one whines louder than the other once your gaze drops to someone else. but you adore it; adore the way they both seem to need you so bad, how they can only focus on you.

scara is whimpering, whining into the pillow, face buried between your arm and the cushion. he can't face you, but he reaches out to wrap his fingers around your forearm to ground himself as he pushes his cock in and out of your fist. you know he's close because his grip is almost cutting off the blood circulation in your arm. you help him; fist tightening around his cock, flicking your wrist along the length of it, pressing your lips close to his ear to whisper, "let go for me, baby."

and he does at your command. scaramouche moans, loud and pretty, nails digging into the skin of your arm when he finishes into your fist. he bucks his hips, tears building up behind his tightly closed eyes, face pressed into the white pillow beneath him. he sounds so pretty, low and whiny, slightly muffled and gasping as his movement slow.

you refuse to let up though, stroking him through his high and scara whimpers as his sensitive tip hits your palm. "c-can't-" scara mumbles, shaking his head and he lifts it slightly to blink up at you to show his teary eyes.

"no, you can do one more. you wanted this, didn't you babyboy?" you muse, tilting your head to keep eye contact with him when the boy tries to look away. scaramouche doesn't answer—eyebrows scrunched, embarrassed at the pet name—but quiet pants fall from his lips, a whimper bleeding into the gasps when you squeeze his sensitive cock.

"you just wanted my attention, right? well, now i'm giving you it, so just one more for me, hm?"

scara sighs and shoves his face back into your forearm, hesitantly nodding because you're right.

"that's a good boy."

childe's eyes narrow, glaring daggers at scaramouche's writhing body and the praises falling from your lips, chest swirling with both want and annoyance at the attention scara is getting. you're still moaning, pretty and quiet, your eyes still flickering to childe taking care of your cunt but it's not enough. he flares, wrapping his arms further around your thighs to trap them with a short growl; running his tongue along your dripping slit before dropping lower and teasing your hole.

"fuck! god that's—good boy, puppy." the motion gets you to notice him immediately. your back arches, head tipping back and free hand going to grab childe's hair and the boy almost grins against your pussy, nails digging into the skin of your thighs when he does it again.

"shit—you're—" you cut yourself off when your eyes slightly roll back, moans dropping from your lips at how childe practically devours your cunt. he hums knowingly, cockily, slick noises filling the room as he laps at you, letting you slightly push yourself closer to his face as your grip on his hair keeps him in place.

your other hand halts for a second around scaramouche's cock, arms feeling slightly weak and it forces the boy to seek his own pleasure. scara whimpers, pushing his hips hard against your hand, parted lips panting hotly against your neck until your hand disappears completely and he almost bursts into tears.

"n-no! please-" scara bucks into the air, trying to force your hand back down but you hush him. "patience, baby." your voice is breathless, eyes still glued to childe who doesn't let up against your heat. scara whines lightly but he's obedient, humping against your side when you let him.

you're so close, body hot and shaky but when you feel your stomach coiling, you rip childe off your glistening cunt despite how much you wanted to ride his pretty face. the boy pulls away with a gasp, big eyes blinking so pretty and perfect.

"c'mere, pup." you gasp, dark eyes fixing on childe's glittering blue ones. your index finger catches under childe's chin, motioning him up to your face and he obliges instantly. he crawls above you, trapping your frame under his, leaning down to crash his lips against yours. your hand reaches for his jaw, holding him, guiding him to show you're still in charge despite how he's on top.

"you gonna fuck me, hm? gonna make me cum all over your cock?" you whisper against his lips, your tone teasing, and he drops his head when you let go of his face.

"hah—please." childe pants into your neck, head nodding dumbly, gliding his cock over your stomach. you can feel scaramouche twitch at your words, pressing his cock against your side with a quiet whimper. they're both grinding against you, no longer fighting for your attention, just desperate for you to help them cum.

your hand finds scara's dripping cock again, ripping a choked cry from the boy, tugging at him at a relentless pace that knocks whimper after whimper out of him. your other hand reaches for childe's hair to make him look at you, "be a good boy and fuck me then."

[rainbluealoekitten]

this is definitely not a witchcraft blog but regardless i do participate occasionally with online witchy theatrics and i have an opinion i'd like to share.

there's too much pressure on learning the basics and not enough resources that teach damage-control.

this is in relation to fear-mongering discourse, bc almost every witchy "content creator" (hate that term) and almost every witchy book, podcast, whatever, seems to put a focus on protecting yourself, putting up wards, easy peasy baby beginner witchcraft. which! yes, that is important, but it also means that it perpetuates the idea (and often full out says) that you should never do blood magic. you should never talk to these entities. you should never make bargains, you should never do divination without cleansing, you should never curse, bla bla bla don't go outside at night!! it's spooky!!!

great, now we've got a bunch of witches who are scared shitless and won't actually do anything beyond blow cinnamon through their front door.

there are a lot of people who claim to be teachers, but a good teacher is someone who pushes you. not someone who limits you.

some witches love to tell you to fuck around and find out, but again, only provide resources on warding. we've got witches who ward so much that they can't even get friendly spirits to talk to them. banishment is seen as a basic skill, but if everyone is too scared to practice their craft, they're not going to even end up with an entity to banish!

i'm starting to ramble, but my point is that i want to see more content, more books, more generalised resources that teach you how to unfuck a situation. not prevent it, unfuck it.

you did blood magic? great, it's not always going to work out, here's how to unbind yourself from this entity, now you know to do this slightly differently. you've done a curse and it's backfired? don't panic, these are some ideas on how you can undo your spell, and next time you might want to choose your words/ingredients more carefully. you wandered into the wrong part of the woods and upset some ancient spirits? it's more common than you think! luckily, there are plenty of ways to go about this situation.

etc etc. people do dumb shit. that is part of life. just like with sex ed, teens aren't going to abstinate, they're going to be too scared to go to an adult when they get an sti.

yes, some practitioners will basically stop practicing out of fear of doing things wrong, and many others will do things wrong and end up entirely alone, scared, and with no resource that can guide them out of it, all because you should have known better, you should have warded, you should have stuck your head in a fucking hole.

anyways. this is the end of my rant but i hope it also comes off as encouragement to anyone who is in some way sharing their practice and sharing resources, especially the much wiser witches who have fucked around, please share what you've learnt. <— i'm asking this in a very sincere, very hopeful way, i really wish it was normalised to share spells and prayers and basic actions to help witches through really tough times.

[creatingblackcharacters]

how can I as a 13 year old combat things like racism? I'm not white btw, not black either

13 🤣 wow. Been a long time. Tbh, the rules of being a good ally are practically the same as an adult. But I'll try to modify. I assume you're asking about anti-Black racism.

When you hear your friends joke about something racist, be willing to call it out. "Hey y'all, that's not funny." Be unwilling to go along with the joke, and if they don't stop, find somewhere else to be. Dismiss yourself from that space. Otherwise, you're choosing to cavort with racists, and the people around you will recognize you as one also. I'm sure that's not what you want to be!

Show solidarity with your Black classmates! I know my school had a Black Students Club; while idk if you'll be allowed to attend the meetings, if they share information, hold events, and discuss important topics (maybe a teacher is being racist), listen to them! Be willing to get vulnerable and uncomfortable and hear what they're saying. You shouldn't walk in thinking "oh by being here, I'm surely not racist". That's not true. But by listening and learning, you'll (hopefully) start actually internalize what it means to be antiracist. And if you're a person of color, you might build some more solidarity over shared experiences and history!

Get educated about the world around you! If the 13 year old Black kids around you are old enough to experience the full, violent brunt of racism (Black kids young as 6 have experienced police brutality), you are old enough to learn about how to help! There are books and podcasts and YouTube videos that discuss these things. Stamped and How To Be A (Young) Antiracist by Ibram X Kendi come highly suggested (the first is a book and a Netflix doc, the second is a simplified version of the original. I enjoyed both).

I recognize every kid isn't safe enough to fight their parents about beliefs. But if you can do nothing at all, start paying attention to how that antiblackness permeates your space at home. In what they say, in how they act. If you do feel safe enough to start those conversations, do so! Say "hey Dad, I learned this today while reading and I think-" It doesn't have to be a fight! And if you feel like it's turning into one, be safe and pull back. But hold strong to what you've learned- just bc it's not the status quo to be antiracist doesn't mean it's wrong.

[ddejavvu]

to me, steve is 100% the type of guy to wiggle his way into kissing practice with you. ur nervous that ur a bad kisser?? don’t worry lovely, just practise on me! he doesn’t mind. definitely makes it super sappy and all the romantic lines get BLURRED bc he’s so lovely and doting and it’s like?? idk i think it could be something so sweet and it could be his way of proving to u that he’s the one - like Harrington over here has such bad luck with words, he wants to show u he’s good for u (even if at the time ur just flirty friends)

"No, come on, it's not that hard." Steve boasts, his arms crossed over his chest, "Really! It's, like, super easy."

"It doesn't look easy," You squint at the makeout scene on the television in front of you, watching each character shift and maneuver themselves to press impossibly closer to the other person.

"Well that's- I mean that's making out," Steve runs a hand through his hair, his face stretched into an easy grin, "That's a little much. But, like, regular kissing's super easy."

Despite his assurances, you're not convinced. All you do is shrug, but he catches the movement out of the corner of his eye.

"C'mon," He laughs, and it's almost a scoff, "You're telling me you've never done it before?"

"No!" Your brows furrow and your cheeks grow hot, "Not everyone had a Nancy on hand during high school, Steve."

"No, no, I'm not making fun of you!" He insists, reaching his hand out as a peace offering. You take it, and he smiles at you, the corners of his mouth creasing.

"I'm just surprised, 's all." He muses, tracing one of the lines on your palm, "You came to a few of my parties, you never did anything there?"

"No, I was-" You hesitate to admit it, but the pads of his fingers trace soothing lines on your skin, "I was a little scared, I guess."

In a soft, incredulous breath, he speaks: "Scared?"

"Yes," You huff, though it's more of a whine. You tug your hand from his, or at least attempt to, but he holds tight to it.

"I'm not teasing you! I just- I think you're overcomplicating this," He placates you, squeezing your hand in his own, "Here, y'know what? Practice on me."

"What?"

"Practice on me!" He repeats, tugging you closer by your intertwined hands, "Then you'll see it's not so scary."

"I don't know," You hum worriedly, picking at lint on your jeans, "I might be bad at it."

"Bullshit," He shakes his head dismissively, "You'll do great. I'll help you, okay?"

"Okay," You breathe, long and shaky, "Are you sure?"

"Totally sure," Steve promises, his smile soft and placating, "Ready?"

"Ready." You hum, steeling yourself. It's not that you're scared of Steve, or that you think he'll be gross. It's that you don't think you'll be good enough, and the fear of inadequacy thrums through your veins in a chant that won't stop as he leans in.

Not good enough, not good enough, not good enough, not-

His lips press your own. They're soft, pillowy, and you suppose you've glanced at them enough to know they would be. But nothing is like feeling them against your own, gentle and warm.

He starts slow. His lips gently suction between your own, his top lip between yours and the bottom one nearly scraping your chin. It's only slightly wet, his saliva mixing with your own as it gathers on your bottom lip. You think it would be gross, swapping spit, but it's not repulsive when it's Steve.

He pulls back ever so slightly to realign them, and this time his bottom lip is between yours. His eyes stay shut, lashes brushing his cheeks as they rest. Your own eyes are contentedly closed, seeds of warmth planted in your chest that blossom into pretty flowers.

Where you'd imagined lewd, wet squelching sounds, there's only a soft smack here and there. You're trying to go with the flow, to commit to memory everything that he's doing so that you can use it in future. You almost miss the press of his palm against your cheek, where it's been pressed before, but not as intimately. This feels like boyfriend Steve, not best friend Steve.

He pulls away with starry eyes once they blink open, lips slick from your exchange. He's kept it clean, you recall the vicious make out scene from the movie and silently thank him for not recreating it, but even at low intensity he has your cheeks heating up.

"There." He states, voice ever-so-slightly raspy, "See? 'S not that hard."

He looks different. The shine in his eyes is endearing to you now. The moles and freckles along his face are something you want to kiss. And so are his lips, now that you've tried it.

"Did you like it?" He asks, eyebrows raised. They're sculpted perfectly for his face, even if they are a little overgrown. His smile holds nothing but sincerity, and you try to match it with one of your own.

"Yeah," You swallow the saliva in your mouth, processing too late that some of it is probably Steve's, "Yeah, um, thanks Steve."

"Of course. It's no problem," He pats your thigh reassuringly, and the touch sends shivers up your spine. He turns back to the movie but doesn't make to move back to his original spot, thigh still pressed against your own, "Anytime."

[scekrex]

Okay, okay, okaaaayy, fluff/crack idea, because you're my inspiration, you cheeky bastard 🤌

The husbandos just spending some lazy morning together, enjoying their time mostly just cuddling and exchanging small, sweet kisses. It was peaceful, quiet, until their penthouse neighbours got... Loud, if you know what I mean 😏. Reader completely annoyed by the disturbing noise in the morning just put on a displeased face, eyebrows furrowed, a full on resting bitch face with intention of murder in his eyes to then say that he just might go and actually murder somebody. Adam reacting with a laugh and simply daring the reader to do so, reader replying with: "Darling, do you want to see me in shuckles? Cause after I'm done, I'm definitely going to jail" and Adam just: "Oh, no no no no, I take that back, who am I supposed to kiss every morning if you go to jail? Your picture?" and reader saying: "You could kiss the glass in the jail during visit times".

Love ya 💁🏻‍♂️🤩

Fucking love ya too u idiot, also love being ur muse bc fuck yeah, being the inspiration for an artist feels fucking great whoop whoop

Cuffed Up

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

The two of you had been up for at least an hour by now but neither of you wanted to leave the bed. It was one of those lazy mornings that you and Adam loved so much, there was nowhere else for you to be today and Adam only had band practice in the evening which left plenty of time for cuddles and kisses.

You were laying on top of Adam, your head was positioned on his chest, perfect to listen to his calm heartbeat, his hands were on your ass and his wings covered both of your bodies like a soft blanket. You were simply enjoying each other's presence in peace.

At least until your neighbors decided that having morning sex loud enough for all of heaven to hear was a fucking good idea.

You lifted your head and glared at the wall that was letting the noises come through to disturb you. “What the fuck?” you mumbled, these motherfuckers had just managed to ruin your entire mood within seconds. The headboard of their bed was steadily bumping against the wall, making the entire thing even more annoying. Who the fuck was having sex at fucking 9am? Apparently those bastards of neighbors you had.

Fucking great.

“I swear if that bitch doesn't quiet down I'll head over to their apartment and stab both of them until they're fucking silent,” you grumbled with furrowed brows and a clearly displeased look on your face. The fucking audacity to disturb you and your husband at such an early time. Adam simply shot you a sharp grin as he petted your hair in order to calm you down a little and commented, “Y’know, I think you should fucking do that.”

That caused your attention to shift from the wall to Adam and you playfully raised an eyebrow at him, “Darlin’,” you breathed as you leaned in closely, your lips were almost touching his yet they stayed far away enough not to, “You wanna see me in fucking cuffs? ‘Cuz after I'm done with their fucking horny asses I'll be definitely going to jail.”

Adam weighted his opinions for a moment before he responded, “Oh hell fucking nah, while you would look absolutely fucking delicious in cuffs, I need my fucking morning kisses ‘n’ who am I supposed to kiss every fucking morning when your murderous ass is rotting in jail? Your goddamn pictures?” You simply looked down at him with a smug look on your face, “You could kiss the glass in jail during visit times.”

Adam made quick work of moving his hands from your ass to your neck and pulling you down into a heated kiss. His lips were eager to claim yours and it didn't take him long to involve his tongue. A small surprised moan escaped you and it bled into the kiss. When you pulled away just the slightest bit to catch your breath he overconfidently hissed, “The only fucking thing my lips will kiss is your fucking skin.”

His wings shoved you off of him, causing you to land next to Adam on your back. The first man was on top of you in an instant and as if to prove his words his lips started to caress your jaw, your neck, your cheeks and lips turning you into a whining and moaning mess for him.

[astral-realities]

Hello again! New questions bc im really curious! How much do you all identify with your puppets and their appearances? Are they more of a tool for you or are they significant for your sense of self? I've noticed that your appearances somewhat reflect your personalities, was this a design choice made by your architects or have you been adjusting looks along the way by yourselves? (I know Habitually Stargazing did a little, the dress looks really pretty on you btw!) Im particularily fascinated by the antennas! Im guessing you don't use them much having a hard-wire connection to the rest of your superstructures, right? (perhaps they would be more practical when communicating with visitors in your chambers? I don't know..) Im seeing a sort of analogy between animal motifs in ancient art and masks and those retro-looking antenna resembling those used with older technology, though I might be wrong.. I'd be thrilled to know whether these hold any cultural / traditional signifincance among machines alike!

Also I'd love to know more about your serial numbers! What do they mean, and do you more identify with them or with your names?

Finally, Flowers - a creature for you

It's an umbrella slug, hiding under it's umbrella!

Hope you all have a wonderfull day, looking forward to hear from you!

SDA: Oh! While the exact details might vary from case to case, I would say that it's a bit of both - the puppet is a tool tied to an iterator's sense of self.

SDA: The puppet is only a small part of yourself, but it represents you as a whole. You .. used it to communicate with your citizens, you use it to communicate with your peers. Others start to see *you* in this form. The more you use it, the more you begin to identify with it. With time, its image truly becomes yours.

SDA: From our creators' perspective, it might have been a matter of needing an interface to interact with us. It seemed to be more natural to speak with something that you can actually look in the face.

SDA: Another important fact is that the puppet is by far the most expressive part of our bodies. Our biological elements can be somewhat controlled by our programming, but it cannot fully override them - there will always be a living, sentient being deep below.

SDA: One that has its own emotions, preferences, opinions; one that wants to express itself. The puppet serves as an outlet for that. It can gesticulate, it allows you to convey how you feel in a way that's understandable to most.

TFB: It would've probably been easier for them if we couldn't think for ourselves. Just tell us what to do and we do it until the end of time, no questions asked.

TFB: Instead, they chose to fully depend on something with an *attitude*! Some really tried their best to keep good relations with their iterator, afraid of putting it in a bad mood...

SDA: Yes, I suppose...

SDA: Some of us might pay greater attention to the puppet's appearance, adjusting it to our own tastes, mostly with clothes and accessories. Fashion was important in our creators' culture, so it wasn't out of the ordinary for an iterator to request a new robe or a necklace. Some took matters into their own hands.

SDA: ... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ramble on like this.

BROS: Don't you dare, it's always nice hearing you so passionate about something~

BROS: About the antennae - you're right, they're not as powerful as the equipment in the rest of the structure! They're decent for close-range stuff, and they're what you'd resort to in case of an emergency.

BROS: Like, somehow losing access to the rest of your body. The puppet can't do much on its own, but thanks to these, it would be able to communicate with anything near it.

BROS: Aaand they were mostly another way for the architect to visualize whatever concept they had for a puppet.

HS: I'm almost offended by the "retro" remark. As far as I'm concerned, these are state-of-the-art.

BROS: Sure, sure~

BROS: Finally, as for the model numbers. They represent the architect's name, the cycle when the project was officially completed, and the name of the project at that time, like this:

BROS: Nobody really identifies with this, it's mostly used in paperwork - maybe some database stuff. Even if two iterators were given the same name, it's extremely unlikely they also had the same creator *and* creation date, so it allows for telling us apart that way.

HS: The name that appears in your model number isn't truly binding either. Such as...

TFB: Come on now, don't put them on the spot like that.

SDA: ...

SDA: It's fine...

SDA: Originally, I was called "Visions of Serenity", you'll see me in databases as GTIAOT672005VOS.

SDA: I was renamed shortly after, due to some... rather unfortunate coincidence.

SDA: It really doesn't matter now.

---

TFB: Also, thank you so much!! I don't get to see many marine species around these parts, this is lovely!

HS: (...and thank you...)

[emry-stars-art]

Oooh do go on about raven neil and jean 👀 (if you’re so inclined ☺️) - @neil-jostenminyard

*chanting* raven Neil raven Neil raven Neil (and lots of Jean) (quite possibly even jeaneil) (although most of the thoughts are post-ravens lol)

So my personal thoughts about this are also mostly thanks to chats and inspiration/prompting from @jtl-fics and @greenautumnleaves so if you see any additions from them on this post it's most likely also thoughts I adore lol

Anyway this got kind of long so:

I ALSO latched onto Sakavic's statement that Neil wouldn't leave Jean in the nest bc yeah it makes sense and also ow

But just the two of them being partnered up like Riko and Kevin as is common in these aus, and then after Kevin gets out first, they have to stick together and rely on each other even MORE because Riko is pissed that Kevin is gone and probably takes it out on the next closest two idk

But in our imaginings, Renee or Andrew get Jean out quicker than in canon, again because Neil would refuse to leave Jean behind and I can only imagine he'd go so far as to trick or manipulate Jean into leaving. Maybe by being at a certain place at a certain time to get picked up, however he can make it happen. But the issue we run into is that once that's done, what the hell would Neil have left at Evermore, besides Exy that maybe he still loves deep down. But Exy's been so warped being raised on it at the nest that at that point his obsession is barely recognizable.

Kevin might recognize this, because he knew Neil in the nest. Or at least he knew the person that Neil presented himself as. But it's probably more likely that Jean recognizes this, and yeah things are super rocky and weird but Jean can barely even function without Neil. So back a fox goes to rescue their second raven's partner.

They bring Neil back to Palmetto and he and Jean are completely inseparable. Emotionally and physically. Neither of them act like, feel like, or even call themselves "touchy feely" or "clingy" people but as soon as Neil is treated for various intense and mysterious injuries, they're curled up in some hidden place for hours. Even the short time having left Neil behind made Jean almost too anxious to leave his room. Even the short time without Jean - now with more punishment for aiding Jean's escape - was enough for Neil to consider something drastic.

(side note: Andrew now has not one, not two, but three gorgeous tragic boys under his supervision and I'm sure he's handling that totally normally lmao. But it's so obvious to him that Jean and Neil have something going on that any ideas for himself aren't worth entertaining.)

So it's a little easier to ease out of various habits and thought processes because Jean and Neil are doing it together, with outside help. They fix their sleep cycles/rhythms, try a slightly more normal college diet, and most slowly lose their "win or die" mindset in practices. They're still never seen without each other - Wymack had a talk with some of the school board about their schedules and dorm arrangements for the first semester. In reality, he's not sure if he should have them go cold turkey on raven habits or if he should take it slower, but he's doing his damn best to get these boys adjusted to life outside a cult. And Neil and Jean, whether or not they actively realize it, find that step to be the one they absolutely cannot take. Why would they go through the agony of learning to live separately if they don't have to. When no one else understands them like the other, when they've already seen each other's worst so nothing else is worth keeping secret between them. Who else is Jean going to go to when having a better life makes him feel like he more deserves death or punishment and the guilt hits him so hard he can't breathe, much less sleep. Who else is Neil going to go to when he can't let go of his birthright - if he isn't good at what he does (Exy) he literally could just be shot like a lame horse - and he's not allowed to go practice Exy against a wall to the point of tearing himself apart anymore so he forces his feet away from the court to find the only person he knows he'll listen to when they say no.

Kevin, of course, is keeping a close eye on the two, whether unintentionally or on purpose is unclear. Neil still has a mouth on him, he sometimes plays mind games with the foxes like chess against himself, and most of all does not allow anyone to get too close to Jean. Jean is still quiet, having learned not only to take a punishment without resistance but also that Neil will speak first. Neil will resist so Jean doesn't have to. He's safer in Neil's shadow.

Maybe it's a phrase or warning that Neil uses and that Kevin recognizes. Maybe it's a gesture between Neil and Jean that Kevin oversees. Maybe it's just the general demeanor of the two. But whatever it is is familiar to Kevin, not in a "I remember this from them in the nest" way. He can recognize by now that Riko was not good to him, he can acknowledge it even if the rest of him hasn't caught up. He looks at Jean in Neil's shadow and remembers himself in Riko's.

As if Butcher's son Nathaniel Wesninski wasn't already scary enough on his own.

But Kevin won't allow this kind of thing on his court, and he's not good at it but he is still trying to let go of unhealthy raven ideals. If Neil is holding onto some fucked up dynamic, Kevin is going to put a stop to it.

He pulls Jean aside, a miraculous feat. He asks what Neil has done.

"Mistake" might be an understatement.

It could very easily be the longest string of words Jean has said to anyone besides Neil. Kevin doesn't know near as much French as he does in canon - Neil is the one that shares that secret defiance - so it's all clear English, Jean making sure Kevin understands every word. Kevin should never speak about Neil that way again. He knows nothing about them, he shouldn't so much as pretend to understand Neil. Neil is the only good thing that ever happened to Jean. Kevin never cared enough to bring it up in the nest, so he has no right to start caring now.

It isn't great for their already tumultuous relationship. Kevin wonders for a bit if Jean would tell Neil about it - then next practice Neil doesn't even try to work with Kevin, even after the two had made it a point as strikers to figure out how to. He ignores the other strikers entirely, falling immediately and seamlessly into perfect synch with Jean behind him, speaking hardly a word of English the whole practice. Because he knows that will make Kevin even more angry than Neil being actively hostile to his new teammates.

Kevin isn't sure what he was expecting. Chances are Jean hadn't even needed to bring it up for Neil to notice something was off.

As for Andrew, I think he could still pick up a game of truths. He'd need to offer a similar deal as he did for canon Neil, this time for Neil-and-Jean, the entity of the two of them together. I think he could ensure some cooperation by saying he won't force Jean and Neil apart from each other the way some others have muttered about doing. Even if Neil knows by now the codependence isn't healthy, neither of them are ready to give it up.

It probably really throws Andrew to hear that they don't consider themselves to be an item. They're together, sure, but for a raven that doesn't always, maybe even rarely, means "in a traditional relationship". Neil and Jean definitely never offer any clarification. That's no one else's business, even if they could explain it so that a non-raven could understand. Generally I feel like if this is an andreil universe, it's an even longer, stranger, more winding road to get there than in canon.

I'm almost CERTAIN there's more Im forgetting about rn but this has been my taster on raven Neil+Jean, I hope it was at least a little bit coherent, and greenautumnleaves - I hope this comes anywhere close to your galaxy brain ideas on these two lol. Maybe I'll be back with other thoughts later who knows

[onlyseokmins]

$$60 billion (part 2) • l.s.m.

How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), trigun!au, action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor 🙏 Warnings: swearing, blood, guns, injuries, medical tingz, destruction, mentions of knives, violence, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, tame-ish alien/monster/plant sex (????? listen it'll make sense - think of him like howl's bird form on steroids idk), mating, possessiveness!, marking, bruising, jealousy, smelling/scent kink???, wet messy sex uwu, wing kink (??? listen i was gonna explore it more but decided not to ok??), BITING (bc it's me), mechanical/robotic fingering???, gagging, bulge kink, oral sex (explicit male receiving and brief fem. receiving), seokmin's dick is like SLOPPY TOPPY LORGE w/ a mind of it's own, lowkey forgot how to write smut sorry </3 WC: 13.2k of 32.7k | Part 1 | Read on AO3 A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I hope everyone enjoys the conclusion and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️PS, I know nothing abt chess lmaooooo but let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!! This part might get a little confusing because of a flashback!! (starts right after the italicized paragraph and ends with "...in this moment...")

The silence is palpable.

"Does it hurt more to get stabbed in the back or shot?"

Only the continual rustling sound answers your philosophical question. Not that you actually care because you weren't really expecting a reply.

So, you keep talking.

"I think it would be more painful to get stabbed… but it would take longer to heal from a gunshot wound."

There's a brief pause in the motions behind you. But the quiet resumes, though the practiced skill of a needle threading through your skin quickens. While the local anesthetics Tonim's doctor supplied is doing its job for the most part, you swear you can still feel the tug of flesh being sewn together.

Or maybe you're just thinking too hard.

"Look. I'm… I'm sorry."

If tension could personify itself right at this moment, it would do so with ease, given how heavy its presence currently sits in the room. A low voice finally speaks up, gravely and roughened after such a long period of silence and the hairs on your neck rise.

"Are you really?"

"… Yes."

A heavy sigh — one burdened with all the worries of the world — follows. You wince and then tremble, wishing you could turn around. It's easy to guess what he's thinking but god, do you wish you could see his face to confirm. The fear of the unknown paralyzes you.

"I seriously am."

"Doubtful. I know you only asked me that question to subtly say you'll be okay and heal just fine but it's not that simple."

The callousness in his tone and the sharp way he says your first name makes you want to shrink down, shrivel up, and quite frankly die on the spot. Gritting your teeth, you succumb to the apparent silent treatment until the snip of scissors signifies your surgeon has finished treating you.

You think twice about your options upon hearing the click-clack of medical supplies being put back into the first aid kit. Then you think, "fuck it!", and use your good arm to keep the fabric of a spare t-shirt pressed against your chest and shift so you can face the man who just rather aggressively threw a handful of unused alcohol prep pads back into their designated slot.

"I'm super duper, utterly, and truly apologetic, Seok."

The gunslinger heaves another grand exhale of irritation. He doesn't even so much as glance at you, frowning sourly down at the roll of gauze in his hands instead. The temptation to reach out and touch him — soothe him — is strong but you decide against that (for various reasons) and resort to huffily pouting instead. Amazingly it seems to work, because he notices right away and folds way too easily without much of your sway, finally facing you with a reluctant but serious expression.

"Then what did you learn?"

Your gaze lowers, eyelashes fluttering while you drown in your feelings of shame and wrack your brain. The urge to toy with the silver chain around your neck is strong though you resist the tick and hesitantly answer instead.

"Um, that I need to fortify my mental block better?"

"Try again."

"Uh…"

"How about the way you're not supposed to play the hero?"

The tin of the trauma kit rattles as Seokmin slams his left hand down on the bed, leaning menacingly toward you. Though narrowed, his eyes seem to glow. You can't help but whimper at the intense ire dancing in those irises paired with his sharp tone. Like the desert's suns, it simmers and radiates off of him with rays of heat that you can easily feel given how close he is.

"I'm, I'm sorry!"

"No, you're not," he states sharply though the rigidness in his body relaxes after your squeak of another apology. "You almost died!"

You'd defiantly cross your arms if you could. "Between the two of us, you were most at risk of dying."

"Was not! And we both know my chances of injury are much, much lower than yours."

"You can't lecture me and flex your stupid powers this time! It's different 'cause Jihooon was fuckin' with my mind."

The harsh bitterness is more so directed at yourself and the damned Crimsonnail than Seokmin. But as usual, you vent all your frustrated emotions out on him, especially whenever he brings up the fragility of your mortality. You both stare stubbornly into each other's eyes, thinking back to what happened and what could've happened.

Lina's protected. The Tonim residents were all immobilized. Seungcheol, Seungkwan, and Mingyu are in good spirits. You are safe.

A burst of air rushes into Seokmin's lungs, relief filling him as he idly scans your figure for injuries. Casually reloading his revolver just in case, he beams as you approach. The mirrored expression of victory on your face accompanied by a hand reaching out causes his whole body to shudder in pleasure. There's nothing he'd like more than to intertwine his fingers with yours.

Instead, he settles for returning your enthusiastic fist bump. Nudging his shoulder against yours, Seokmin chirps out, "Good job, partner!"

"Partner?"

"Yeah, partners."

You shake your head like you can't believe him, amusement tilting up the corners of your lips. He wants to tell you everything, all of it. But his ears catch the faint click of a contraption behind him and he looks over his shoulder just in time to see Jihoon's crossbow assemble.

Joshua looks mightily displeased but makes no effort to put a stop to the Crimsonnail's actions. Seokmin can only thank his lucky stars that Soonyoung remains in a catatonic state. Dealing with a ginormous worm so soon after being in its stomach a couple days ago was not appealing in the slightest.

The fingers of his prosthesis splay out, cybernetic arm lowered and extended outwards in front of you as you turn around as well. He knows you hate unwarranted protection but you'll have to forgive his instincts this time. Nevertheless, he trusts you. And as Jihoon opens fire, Seokmin leaps into action, expecting you to do the same — only to do a double-take when you don't move despite a flurry of nails breaching the air.

Your eyes remain unfocused. Glazed over and cloudy, posture tense but still. He sneaks observatory looks your way from afar while firing Geranium. Round after round, breaking nail after nail to prevent any harm befalling you. A maniacal laughter rings out and Seokmin freezes, putting two and two together.

Then he snarls.

Jihoon must've sicced his killing intent — a nasty ability to project and create illusions of destruction in someone and break their will — on you. Cursing, he starts making his way closer to you, inwardly reaching out to you and begging that you'll break free of the blonde-haired man's clutch on your psyche.

You're obviously more than capable. He knows this. But your movements are sluggish, slowly releasing Sirocco from your grasp. The empty pistol lands on the sand with a muffled thud and Seokmin's pretty sure his heart mimics it. A look of terror and horror spreads across your facial features, surely subject to something awful within the confines of your own mind.

And while you're experiencing visions of things you fear coming true, he's stuck in the vivid reality where they do.

You spin around with a wild look in your eyes — full of rage and anguish. He stumbles back as you teeter one foot at a time toward him and in the distraction, a nail pierces right below your shoulder blade.

Someone wails behind him.

You scream.

Seokmin rushes forward. But he's tackled suddenly to the ground and ends up flat on his back. Completely winded and left with his vision smarting, blinking in confusion at the blurry double halos that definitely shouldn't be around the duo of suns in the sky.

Then your face comes into focus. And god, forget the suns — in all your glory and in all your fierceness, you shine brighter than them all combined — hallucinations be damned.

It takes a bit of wrangling around, given how you try to wrestle and pin the man down. The clunky gun you're waving around goes off several times, harmlessly lodging bullet holes into the sand cushioning around Seokmin's head.

"Stop it, you're gonna hurt yourself!"

Moving and lashing out like a wild animal before it's fully sedated, his words don't come through the hellish haze Jihoon's trapped you in. You pull the trigger with no regard for the injury to your shooting arm.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

He dutifully counts each round fired, multitasking between that and the effort it takes to contain your struggling movements. Once again, thanks to the overpowered strength of his prosthetic, the man's finally able to sit up with you secured in his arms to cease any further movement.

"Lovely, lovely mayfly," he murmurs. The stable cybernetic hand gently feels around the impaled shoulder while a trembling thumb rubs your abnormally chilled cheek. "C'mon and snap out of it, pretty."

Not a spot of recognition in your blank glare. His eyebrows furrow as cold metal presses in between them. Seungcheol is cursing, Mingyu and Seungkwan are shouting loudly. Jihoon gloats.

But none of that matters. Seokmin drowns all of it out by diving in the pooling depths of your empty irises. Searching, calling, begging. Biting his lip, he delivers a quick slap and pleads, "Come back to me, love."

And like a mist that rises after dawn, you return to him. Your stunned grip on the gun falters, the final bullet rattling in its chambers. The pained expression on your face slices open his own heart but its shredded form takes flight in utter relief.

You're back. You're going to be okay — he'll make sure of it. And even if you don't know it, you're his and he's yours.

"Y-you're dead," you choke out and all he can do is smile despite feeling like he's on the verge of crying. Elation, anger, guilt, hope, longing, worry, joy — all of it turns and tosses within him like a rustling flurry of winged creatures struggling to break free.

So, he smiles at you and grasps the barrel of the old pistol aimed at his forehead. "I know, mayfly."

Jihoon howls in fury. Joshua finally steps forward, striking a military pose with his hands behind his back. Composed as ever, his voice remains its deceptively sweet self compared to the harsh jerking movements he's subjected upon the gray-eyed man via telepathy.

"You've crossed the line, lost number thirteen."

"Don't call me that!"

It's no surprise that the pecking order in Dokyeom's henchmen sowed seeds of dissent. Though Joshua was simply a right-hand man, he remained the only unnumbered member, proving the lack of disposability DK saw in him versus the others.

"Know your place."

"Which has always been at the top! But because of you — !"

" — The top of those already at the bottom, perhaps. Respect your superiors and your orders, Crimsonnail. You were not to lay a hand upon Master Dokyeom's brother. Ever."

"I didn't!"

"Or a member of his little group." His indifferent gaze swept over Seokmin protectively cradling your body. "This voids our involvement and nullifies any further implementations of the game."

Joshua would thank his lucky stars that the humanoid typhoon is letting them leave scotch-free if he was a decent man. Unfortunately, he's not — already considering what punishment to enact upon Jihoon per his master's orders. The Crimsonnail feels a shiver down his spine, further enhanced by Joshua's frosty, disdainful look of disapproval as he telepathically drags Jihoon to the car.

Still, it's a good thing Seokmin's a pacifist by nature, that he's more preoccupied by your well being than anything else. Your brow begins to bead with sweat, the pain of your wound finally sinking in past the adrenaline rush wearing off. Black circles dance in your blurring vision, the gun falling from your grasp as you droop forward and rely on the unerring sureness of his support and the safety within in it.

Seokmin knows he needs to get you medical help right away, and it's the only thing he can focus on. There's no time for exchanging a blow with a blow nor the faintest idea of revenge.

Not yet. Not now. Maybe never if it means putting you in harm's way.

Was he really going to give up following the bloody trail to hold his brother accountable for the unspeakable crimes he's committed? Throw away the blank ticket Rem spoke about? All for one person?

The questions all swirl around in his head like a nebulous mass. And like a newborn star — one that's been long in the making — the answer is crystal clear and shining bright as you sit in front of him now looking devastatingly beautiful to him despite all that's happened. Most importantly, you're safe.

But all he can say in this moment aloud is, "I'm sorry."

For a multitude of reasons. So many of them. You seem to spot something in his eyes, frowning ever so slightly.

"You don't have to apologize for anything. I'm fine."

"I almost lost you."

"But you didn't."

"…I know. And I'm so fuckin' glad."

Seokmin runs his fingers in a distressed manner through dusty, matted strands of reddish-brown strands. Immediately drawing attention to the dirt, grime, and dried blood coating and dulling the cybernetic's buzzing glow.

"That's gonna be a pain in the ass to clean."

He appreciates the subject change, shooting you a lopsided grin. "Yeah, tell me 'bout it."

"Let me help."

You get up before he can protest. A tactical way to coerce him into worrying about helping you rather than arguing. The coy part of yourself is applauding the method, especially when the calloused flesh of his palm splays against the bare skin of your lower back in the name of support as you both walk to the bathroom.

That same part whispers naughty temptations to drop the t-shirt covering your chest, press up against him, and see his reaction. But your reasonable, reserved side is too held up on various other matters to give in.

Sadly, you find out you can't offer as much assistance as you would've liked. But Seokmin seems heartened by just seeing you up and about and close to him. Plus, you make use of your idleness while he washes in the sink by reaching for the few stocked amenities you can reach with your good shoulder above it when he asks for them. And you receive a heartfelt smile in return.

"I probably should've just showered."

You shrug. "You still could."

"Nah, it's fine, I can do it later. What about you, though? You're going to need help with those stitches."

"What a roundabout way to say you want to bathe together, Seok. You could've just asked."

Maybe you expected him to splutter nervously or protest fiercely at the tease. You certainly don't expect him to just shake his head — silver earring flashing in the vanity's dull lighting — and chuckle.

"I'm being serious, goof. Besides, it's not the first time I've seen you in the tub."

"What?" you squawk and his grin doesn't falter. In fact, it turns into a smirk.

"I'll go get Sherry. Lina's gonna want to see you too, she wouldn't stop crying about her pretty savior getting hurt."

You frown. Was he still going to dodge The Talk™? And did he think you were really just going to him out of your clutches that quickly?

"We still need to chat. You promised."

His eyes flash. "… And you don't like promises."

Yes, that was exactly why. He knew your history. Still, you refused to back down.

"No, I don't. But I like you… and, and most of all, I trust you. I just want the truth, Seok. Even if you think it'll hurt me, at least be honest. Trust me back. I promise it'll make it less painful if you tell me why you thought I wasn't serious. So, please…"

Don't let me down.

It's unspoken, but he can clearly hear it in your tone. A battle-worn sigh escapes so you try to lead him and finish with a question where he can give a more straightforward answer.

"… How long have you known? About the bet, I mean."

Despite wavering between semi-alertness and bordering the edge of losing consciousness, you're aware of Sheryl's presence as she bustles around with Seungkwan and Mingyu to clear out an empty room above the saloon temporarily used for patients. Seungcheol waits outside the door with you two, a cigarette loosely dangling from his lips.

When Sheryl leaves, she sneaks a peek at the way your face buries into Seokmin's neck, how the man carefully assesses the rest of your body for injuries. His touch is gentle, the cybernetic arm coated in blood as it holds the nail in you steady. He'd been adamant about being the one — the best one — to treat you. Smiling, she hands Seungcheol a couple of double dollars and the pastor raises an inquiring eyebrow.

"For that little game of yours," the woman whispers knowingly and gestures to the two who just exited the room and Seokmin hurriedly heads inside. "They told me all about it."

You lift your head to glare at Seungcheol and then your other comrades as you pass, wondering if this was some sick form of revenge for pulling one on him and if Sheryl was so keen to set you up with someone in the same way pompously done for her. But your shoulder feels like it's on fire so rather than reprimand your stupid, back-stabbing friends and slump back wearily against Seokmin.

He's a simple man who certainly can't hide a silly smile at the unconventional snuggling. Lifting his chin, he then tilts his head questioningly to the money in Seungcheol's hands. "You're still doing that bet?"

"Haf'ta win the lasses 'n hopeless romantics over 'n have 'em rootin' fer ya."

"Y-you know about the bet?"

Seokmin hushes you with a low murmur, words muffled by the press of his lips to the crown of your head. You can't make out what he says, but the timbre is soothing enough that your eyes close.

"Gotta make that sixty billion somehow if we're not turnin' ya ass in."

"Fair enough!" The wanted man laughs and closes the door with his foot.

His cheerful demeanor then dropped to focus on the proper procedures to treat your wound and that's when the silence settles in, soon followed by the weighing air of unresolved tension between you. And now, you're continuing the determined path to fully speed-run ahead and break it, though he shrugs nonchalantly at the question.

"Known for a while, to be honest."

"Seriously? I thought it was a secret!"

"C'mon, you know how bad Cheol is at keeping them."

"Yeah, right," you roll your eyes. "That man takes things to the grave — literally!"

"You're too hard on him." Seokmin leans toward you, bracing himself with an arm supported by the sink and brown eyes sparkling with humor. "Think about how much you've learned about him."

"Against my will, too much…"

"Which means I'm right."

"… I guess you do make a fair point."

"Of course. He's a completely open book once you peel back that damn protective hardcover of his."

Still, you sniff disdainfully and frown. "I swear, you're the only one who sees him like that."

"Like what?"

"Like…. unafraid, unconcerned, unbothered by all that he is, all that he's done, et cetera."

"Why not? He's done the same for me. Besides, I've said it before but he has those eyes, you know. Kind."

Ah, and that's what gets you to resign with a small grin. It's just like Seokmin to see only the good in people.

"And you're not all that different," he continues with a broad, knowing smile. Immediately you bristle and he clarifies, "from me." Some part of you momentarily wonders if you spoke your thoughts aloud or if he just simply knows them that well. "As loath as you are to admit it, you care for him. Most importantly, you trust him."

Though your face sours at the thought, you don't retort right away. Sure, Seungcheol is a trusted ally. And maybe the motivation to free Jeonghan from the control of the Eye of Joshua wasn't solely because it was simply the right thing to do. But also because it might brighten the dull spark and leave one less bloodstain on the hand of a man who bore the burdensome weight of all sins like a cross on his shoulders.

Then you wave away those thoughts for now. "So, is that why you thought I wasn't serious on how I feel about you. 'Cause of the bet?"

"No, because I never knew the full extent of it. But… if you're saying it had to do with your feelings, then I would have to say yes — though I find it hard to believe any bet's worth my bounty."

"Oh." Your cheeks heat at unwittingly giving it away.

Seokmin smirks when you avoid his gaze, and he moves in even closer. "No one has sixty billion double dollars just lying around, mayfly."

"You're just saying that so no one turns you over to July."

"Well, you won't do it, will you?"

"You don't know that," you fire back, intending to heighten your defenses that only weakly falter because you're still not looking at him.

"But I do."

"Yeah? Prove it!"

Ooh, a challenge.

And one more step closer.

"Because you care too much about the man you like to put him behind bars."

Your eyes dart back to meet his, ready to squint reproachfully only to widen at how the gunslinger's face is only a breadth away from yours. Breath hitching, you desperately want to whine out in irritation but it comes out in a low whimper. Seokmin's canines flash in the bathroom's dim lighting.

"That's not, that's not fair." The wall pressing into your bare back keeps you from retreating and the hand keeping the t-shirt covering your chest feels how your heartbeat speeds up. Your skin is on fire, only the cool temperature of your locket and its chain preventing you from utterly exploding after the plaintive admission of, "You already know everything. But…"

"But…?"

The unconscious action of biting into your lower lip only gets realized by the way it keenly draws Seokmin's eyes. Electric blue flashes against brown irises yet they darken to almost black with the sudden thrill of desire that rises to the surface. He's so close, you can feel his breath caress your face, and you swear you hear it deepen into a low grunt before he raises a brow for you to continue.

"But… b-but I don't know…a single… thing."

Seokmin has forever believed Rem's take regarding the ticket to the future always being blank. For him, it's always been an unknown path forward that he's let lead him wherever and to whatever destination.

He holds himself back, just enough to utter the (practically what should be unneeded) words of reassurance, "It could only ever be you — and it's always been only you — that I could be in love with so much, mayfly," and then he's eliminating the meager distance between the two of you. For the first time, he stamps that blank ticket with an assuredness of the future and outcome he's never had before — with a kiss.

Cradling the back of your head with his cybernetic prosthesis, the other cups your cheek and then trails down to your collarbones — but no further than appropriate. His mouth, though, disregards the very notion. A teasing tongue repeatedly runs across your bottom lip to smooth out the indents caused earlier by your teeth then naughtily pokes and prods its way between, eliciting a sweet gasp from you he absolutely devours.

Your whole body shudders with happiness, eagerly surrendering to the man's wild, possessive fervor as he passionately steals the breath out of your lungs and stakes his claim on you by leaving behind shiny kiss-bitten lips. Seokmin only draws away, panting, to admire his handiwork, light-headed and dizzy with delight.

"I love you," he reconfirms with his forehead resting against yours and nose tickling your own, "… partner."

Breathlessly, you joke back after placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Love you too, partner."

And that was that.

With your shoulder injury on the mend and the other members of your little ragtag group nursing their own bumps and bruises, you all decided to spend one more night in Tonim — much to Lina's delight. While she merrily bounced from one 'hero' to the next, you playfully reminded Wonwoo that he still owed you some free drinks. You were eager to take advantage of the fact and he was more than willing to accommodate.

The tavern that originally held a subdued, slightly hostile air to it when you first arrived was now filled with an unfettered joyous harmony. You're so easily swept up in the ambiance of such high spirits and jubilant townsfolk as mug ales filled to the brim get passed around and clinked together, you fail to notice Seokmin's sudden withdrawn nature.

Not until the next morning do you first realize something's off.

"You're sure about this?"

"Oh, no. Not you too, Seok."

You'd already flipped off and shoved away a complaining, terribly hungover Seungcheol and finally got rid of the watchful, fretting gazes of Seungkwan and Mingyu. The duo had been hovering around you with concern ever since you downed a full glass of alcohol last night. While you generally just let them be and were quite thankful not to wake up with a pounding headache, you certainly weren't above crushing all of Mingyu's pudding cups if he meekly asked one more time if you were okay or needed help.

Seokmin leans against the open door frame as you pack. The pulsating glow of lost technology flickers in your peripheral and keeps you aware of his quiet presence. Part of you had always wondered if the ever-running currents of lighting synced with the flow of blood through the rest of his body.

The gunslinger doesn't speak, and you wonder why. And though you'd like to flatter yourself and entertain the notion that he's watching you — while other times that may be true — you don't feel the weight of his eyes trained on your motions. It wasn't like there was much to stuff in your bag, the satchel's leather cracked, faded, and well-worn after all these years of use through the desert and everything you truly value remains strapped some way to your body. So once you're finished, you inquisitively peek over in his direction.

Brown eyes are trained on the clunky gun on the mattress — the same one you'd pressed against his head. It's also the exact same pistol Chan had spent his adolescence restoring and repairing. Left unnamed unlike the honorary grave Seokmin had helped you prep before leaving the ruins of Ivywood behind. Meanwhile, his gaze darts to linger in contemplation on the chain around your neck before his eyebrows furrow, emphasizing the drawn out features and dark circles beneath his eyes.

"You look tired, you doing okay?"

"Yeah, just haven't been… sleeping well."

Frowning, you step toward him. Although he doesn't back away, his entire posture stiffens. "Will you be able to make the journey?"

He snorts, gesturing to your shoulder you're trying not to move too much. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to be asking you?"

"I'll feel better at the border."

Seokmin nods understandingly. "The weather will align well."

Within the sandstorms that relentlessly swirl near the Melca Border Sea of Sand, hides the only SEEDS floating ship that survived the Great Fall and you have to get the timing just right to reach it. It's home to a large community of humans, and most importantly, it's what you would consider a true home to you and Seokmin. Already, your energy restores — excited at the prospect of getting to relax in a place you trust and people you truly enjoy being around.

"Jun can take a look at my shoulder."

"That's true, it would be good for him to do."

"And I'm sure Hao's going to want to check your arm, maybe fashion some fabric that's not only bulletproof but also nail-proof."

"He's gonna give us both a scolding."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

You share a look of fond chagrin. Even though Seokmin's well over a century older than Juhui and Minghao, they were direct Earth descendants aboard a ship full of lost technology and geniuses in their own right. Those facts alone gave them all the confidence and utter audacity to more often than not, act like fretting toma mothers over the two of you.

Nonetheless, you appreciated them with all that's remaining of your heart.

The trip to the Melca Border wasn't a straight shot from Tonim but it wasn't as far as you thought. A bittersweet farewell to Wonwoo, Lina, Sherry, and the rest of the townsfolk was to be expected. Though their sorrow weighed you down, the knowledge that you were parting from them with good memories and the expectations to visit again kept your steps light-footed.

Seokmin remains zoned out the entire time. You bulk it up to his normal reaction whenever something emotional was on the horizon. Returning to Melca held a grand spread of wonderful, warm memories with a scattering of dreadfully sad ones too. Though the floating ship's defenses have been bolstered to the max over the years, the terrible events weren't easy to forget.

But they were incidents in the past and it's thanks to the intellect of the two who greet you at the entrance of the ship that their defenses continue to improve. Luida proudly stands behind them, accompanied by Brad and his wife.

"Greetings, weary travelers."

"We're no strangers, Luida," Seokmin protests against her formality.

The elderly leader's playful grin smooths out the wrinkles lining her wise face. "Welcome home, children."

It's a simple phrase but one that fills you with inexplicable warmth. Hansol might be the son born of her own body, but no one is immune from her maternal instinct. She beckons for everyone to come inside where the main quarters lie and the growing crew population will certainly be enthusiastic upon hearing about your return.

Seungcheol, Mingyu, and Seungkwan trail after without fuss, also elated to be aboard the familiar floating ship. You smile with genuine delight and step forward to follow while Minghao takes one look over his wire-rimmed glasses to survey Seokmin's dusty figure and elegantly tilts his head knowingly in the hallway leading to the technology laboratory. Glittery, colorful beads woven through the long strands of his two-toned hair clink in time with the movement.

It's hard to hide the snicker that escapes as you watch Seokmin trudge after Minghao like a scolded puppy. Your glee at someone else's suffering doesn't last long when a gentle hand clasps your shoulder. Wincing at the pain, you meet Junhui's puzzled look before his eyes narrow.

"You're hurt," he says, disappointed but not surprised, and leads you away to the med bay. It's exactly what you expected, in fact, the main reason behind why you're here — and yet, you sulk and whine petulantly just because you can.

"Not my fault that the only way to get here is by timing everything right to jump into a sandstorm and then onto a flying platform."

After instructing you to lie down on the medical bed and cutting the fabric of your shirt without fanfare, Junhui clicks his tongue. "You only come to visit when you're hurt."

"Not true!"

He concentrates on disinfecting and resewing the torn stitches in the tender flesh around the parts of your wound that are still healing. His tone borders on slight resentment but the concern weighing in it smoothes it all over.

"And yet most of our time spent together is only when you visit so I can patch you up."

"It's not like that."

"I know… but I would've met you elsewhere."

"Boring."

"Can't you courteously pretend to care about yourself out of consideration for those who worry?"

"You'll go gray at such a very young age if you stress all the time, Jun."

He shakes away silver bangs that threaten to impede his vision, unamused. "And you'll end up buried under the sand next time."

"Sounds cozy."

"I swear —"

You wave his growing ire away. "Seok takes care of me just fine."

"Yes," Junhui's cat-like smile causes your metaphorical hackles to raise. "He does care deeply about you."

"I'll punt you into the fifth moon and give it a second crater with your body."

"Now, now… violence is never the answer."

"Violence is the only reason you have a job!"

If you weren't as close as you were, perhaps he'd be offended by your claim. Instead, he kicks you out (after ensuring you're indeed in relatively good health), leaving you to laugh victoriously. Then, you set off to the technology lab in good spirits, hoping to catch Seokmin and commiserate with him.

Instead, you find a lone Minghao sitting refinedly amongst all the tech with grace and poise. He was in his element. Fiddling with and poking at a well-worn, familiar cybernetic tech with a thin silver instrument, he simply raises an eyebrow to acknowledge your presence.

"Did you fit Seok with a new arm?"

"But of course," the man sighs wearily, "despite my best efforts, my darlings always return home to their father with quite a beating."

"… Then you'll hate what I'm about to tell you."

"No, I cannot fashion you a pierce-proof trench coat. However, I will acquire some stronger material… but there better not be a next time."

You purse your lips and pout. It often seemed like Minghao worried more about his inventions than the people using them, though you knew that to ultimately not be true.

"So, he already told you what happened."

"Oh, yes… he told me everything." Heterochromatic eyes suddenly meet yours, sharp with a spark of amusement. "See, I almost didn't want to give him the latest modification but…"

"But…" You repeat warily.

Junhui was always mischievous, though most of it only ended with harmless pranks. On the other hand, Minghao's sarcasm-filled humor rarely made an appearance, and when it did, it usually delighted in the sickest of satisfactions.

Yet, he simply shrugs, evasive as always. "I think you'll like its improvements."

There's something foreboding about that statement, but he ushers you away under the pretense that he needs to concentrate. And shortly, you find yourself stopped by curious passersby or familiar faces in the hallways to the main quarters. Since your last visit, a multitude of passengers have a lot to share and update you on. By the time you reach your own pod, you're socially exhausted.

Sleep came easy but finding Seokmin did not. The SEEDS ship was already big in the first place and additional construction enlarged it further. An itchy, achy feeling pooled inside your gut on the second evening you'd been unable to catch sight of him. Finally, you acknowledged the bitter truth — he was avoiding you.

You had to come to terms with how delusional it was to think that once everything was out in the open, the scattered puzzle pieces would magically fall together in their rightful places. It should be easy, right? It's what happened in those cheap novels Junhui dug out of an abandoned pod in Melca back in the day. He'd given them to you as a birthday joke — Minghao sighing and handing over your real present (the first bullet-proof trench coat) — but you'd actually read through all the cheesy, steamy piles of romantic drivel.

Seungkwan, ever the cynic, and Seungcheol — who's naturally a heathen — quickly destroyed the slim spark of hope of ever hoping to feel those flutters in your gut. Meanwhile, Mingyu was someone precious and wholesome with a romantic outlook on life underneath the great muscular physique he'd gained from carrying that heavy concussion gun around.

You often wondered why they never tormented him like they did to you. But despite his indomitable stature, the emotionally soft man's tears were the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Even if he didn't quite realize it, his comrades certainly were aware.

And Seokmin… well, if you knew how Seokmin felt about romance, you wouldn't be stuck in the position of wondering why the fuck he was avoiding you.

Again.

"Where is he?"

"Good morning," Mingyu greets the following morning, cheerful as ever. "If you're still hunting Seokmin for sport, he said he's feelin' a little sick!"

"Sure."

"No, he really is." Seungkwan refutes your aggressive eye roll with a gentle shake of his head. "Loverboy hasn't come out of his room for days and when I almost knocked the door in earlier, he finally responded only to sound like a dying toma."

Your face contorts into a morbid combination of concern and irritation, shifting between the two expressions. "Probably 'cause he stayed out all last night!"

And with a dramatic huff, you glower at the pastor seated in the cramped corner of the floating ship's kitchen area. Seungcheol deemed it was cooler, darker, and the farthest spot in the enclosed space from any of your misplaced wrath. He smiles, the white stick between whiter teeth jollily flicking up and down at you, taunting.

He reveled in the knowledge of being safe since he'd been the only one able to provide any information on the humanoid typhoon's whereabouts. The pastor — who still enjoyed a late-night smoke to cure some of his insomnia — considered it his saving grace to catch sight of the fellow gunslinger slinking through the shadows in the halls. Apparently, Seokmin had been sneaking outside the past few nights and remained resolutely ever-elusive during the day.

"Should go see 'im. Yer all antsy and 'm bettin' he's missin' his… mayfly."

"Oh, go fuck yourself," you snarl and storm out, missing the man's bark of laughter before he continues contemplating the best way to siphon money during a confessional.

The unfaltering stomp of your combat boots is the background beat on your walk to Seokmin's pod. His halls aren't far from the kitchen area and yet each footfall feels like a step into the unknown, the lights above seeming to grow dimmer the closer you get.

Why was he acting like this?

Did he regret everything that happened between you?

Was something wrong?

Would he shut himself away from you?

Worry and anger swirl together, mirroring the vortex of sand you had to pass through to get here. Seokmin's never shut you completely out before but you're familiar with his reclusive acts when things get too much. Too close. Too emotional. And you're afraid to be the catalyst to another spiral.

So, you knock. Harsh, loud, and ultimately unforgiving if ignored.

"Seokmin, open up! I know you're alive!"

A mutter of "Barely," carries through the door before he clearly answers with a curt, "I'm not feeling well but I'll be fine."

"Open the door."

Silence.

"Please."

The silence continues — and your temper flares. "Don't make me go get my bag and grab my lock-picking set!"

You can hear sounds of cursing and some rustling around before the door slowly and reluctantly opens, Seokmin hiding in the shadow it casts.

"As you can see, I'm quite fi —"

Both a coughing jag and the firm push of your shoe interrupts his confident statement. "Sure hope you weren't about to say you're fine!"

A faint smoky scent permeates the pod. You cough and pause to let your vision adjust to the darkness. The first hint toward Seokmin's unusual behavior because he thrived in the sunlight, no matter how weak the sunrays that reached the floating ship were. Then second, you blink in wonderment at the black heaps littering the bed and floor.

Feathers. Everywhere.

Reminiscent of the time you'd broken Seungcheol's ridiculously expensive pillow against Mingyu's bulky bicep during a good-natured fight with Seungkwan's assistance. But instead of an explosion of brown and aqua toma plumage causing you all to sneeze, these were inky dark like the night sky and resembled piles of soot against the pod's stark white backdrop.

You whirl around to find Seokmin retreating to the corner of the room, hands slamming on top of the dresser for support. His back is to you with two thin wings jutting out from it. Feathers rustle as he pants, shoulders coinciding up and down with the motion of the wings.

"Seok, how did… how did this happen?"

It's not fear that causes your voice to tremble but worry. The appearance of his natural Plant form is no longer shocking. In fact, the more you see it, the more you find it eerily beautiful. Probably similar to those who believe them to be messengers of a higher power. But he's only ever transformed in dire situations — either due to stress or the rare exhaustion of his superhuman abilities against stronger foes.

He doesn't reply so you take a cautious step forward. An animalistic growl erupts from his throat, followed by a pained groan. You gasp as he shakes, protrusions rupturing from the lower parts of his shoulder blades. Two more wings burst out and unfurl below the trembling ones already quivering on his back.

So that's how they hide and reappear.

"Is it 'cause you're sick? Choi said you've been staying out all night. You could've caught a cold or something's in the air. Never know what's floating around here." You babble as you frantically search for signs in the mirror above the dresser for any hints to what's caused this.

Seokmin's bent over and you note what should be brunette roots of hair are now pitch-black too. Closer and closer you creep until you can make out each bead of perspiration trickling down his neck and how they coat every bare part of his body in a sheen of sweat.

Then his head snaps up. An eye — unshielded by the black fringe of his red-brown tipped bangs — narrows to glare into your widened ones. A tempest of electric blue rages within it. Like the hottest type of fire, it burns more than you could ever expect in a vortex of one prominent emotion.

Desire.

An involuntary shudder overtakes your whole body, and you unconsciously bite your lip. Seokmin slumps back down, granting respite from that ardent azure glow.

"Sick," he snarls and laughs, strained. "Sick in the head, that's for sure."

"How… how can I help? What can I do for you?"

"Get out."

"Seok —"

"I'm serious, mayfly. For your own good. Leave."

"My own good?"

"I'll, hah, I'll explain… explain it later."

Your arms cross. "Oh, really? Or will you avoid me again? Like you have been for the past several days?"

"I haven't —"

"Don't you dare feign indifference! I'm not stupid — we talk about our feelings and then you retreat. Just be honest with me… please."

You promised.

He sucks in a very deep inhale through clenched teeth, seeming to regret it instantly because his grip on the edge of the dresser is hard enough to crack the strong material. Glowering at your reflection again — not daring to acknowledge your very real and extremely close presence in the room — Seokmin bares his sharpened and widened incisors in a snarl.

"We will talk, mayfly, please believe me. Now's… hah… just not great timing with… with what's happening."

Irritation easily gives way back to worry. "At least tell me what I can do for you. Should I get Jun?"

"He can't do anything. Gotta just… work it out of my system."

"Work what?" You frown, knowing how rare it is for the medical specialist to be stumped.

"It's not for certain…" Four different wings flutter in agitation at various speeds. "Not a lot's known about Plant physiology," his mouth turns downward, "even I don't have a thorough understanding."

"Is it a disease?"

"Wish it was that simple."

"You're talking in riddles and running verbal circles, Seok."

"… Dokyeom and I are independent Plants. Likely the only ones, well, you know — still functioning. Alive. When Rem found us, research was obviously done."

You know the story very well and nod. "And had been conducted before."

"'Course thanks to Rem, it wasn't as invasive but there were, hah, occasional talks. Theories. And then, of course, before us twins, there was…"

"… Tesla."

A Plant with a lifespan of only two-hundred and thirty days.

Seokmin swallows. "Tesla. Yes. I recall bits and pieces. Hypothesized with Luida and company… Outside of Dokyeom following the unethical methods humans sometimes conduct for experimentation," he snorts at the irony, "it's thought that Plants… can copulate… with a mate… of their, hah, choosing."

"Really?" Your eyebrows raise, intrigued. "That's a brilliant discovery!" Then they furrow. "Wait, are you saying that this," you wave your hand to gesture at his current form, "is because… you're, er, ready to… mate?"

He holds his head. "… Yes."

"Oh, okay. So, you need like… relief? A mate? Should I…?"

Your questions hang uncertainly in the air, unfinished because you're really not sure what you're supposed to even offer. A sarcastic smirk graces Seokmin's lips, condescending in the sort of way that's aimed more at himself.

"What kind of man do you think I am, mayfly?"

"A very, uh, Planty one for sure."

"Better than leafy, I suppose."

"Though you are quite… feathery."

Finally, he turns toward you, a wry and defeated smile on his weary face. His wings stretch outward and curl back in, elegantly waving toward you as if drawn in your direction. You can't help but smile at the object hanging from a cord around his neck.

"You still keep that old thing around?"

He looks at the golden cartridge and chuckles. "It's special."

"Me holding a gun to your head was special?""Meeting you will always remain a treasured memory, no matter the manner of how it happened." Seokmin falls quiet, lost in thought before hesitantly asking, "Did I not mention Plants mate for life? Well, at the very least, I know I do."

"Oh." Your astonishment reveals itself in a breathless gasp. There's no escaping that all-consuming, fiery cerulean gaze. "So is this the first time you've been… ready to, uh, mate?"

"No, I'm used to the way these cycles come and go. But this for sure is the worst bout yet."

"… Why?"

You hold your breath. He takes a step forward. Then another.

He's so close, if you leaned the slightest bit forward you'd press up against each other. Somehow, with an overwhelming sense of shyness guessing the underlying thoughts and what his answer will be, your eyes roam his bare upper chest and torso.

If you could caress him you would. All the shiny black feathers adorning his wings and the occasional ones sprouting along his forearms pointing to his Plant abilities. Each scar along with every bit of metal or his body's naturally grown wood that replaces chunks of lost flesh. He's kept them as reminders of when he's failed humans, though you've seen them only as when they've failed him. He shivers, like he can feel it, as if he knows what you're thinking and you questioningly re-meet his burning stare as he shoots you a wane smile.

Sheepishly, he rubs where the cybernetic arm attaches to his shoulder. Many have turned away in disgust or mock pity at the disfigurements. Yet despite the true abomination he looks like right now, there's only ever been pure empathy and acceptance he doesn't deserve — all from you.

"Conscious consent and reciprocation."

Your lips turn upward, joy causing your soul to unwittingly sing. "Does that mean… I'm your mate?"

"No."

It's like Gunsmoke completely collapses, and you're left twirling without footing in space. Seokmin matches your fallen expression with one of his own.

"What? Wh-why?"

"Don't get me wrong, it's —"

"I swear if you say 'It's me, not you'…"

He rather adorably tilts his head. "How did you know?"

"It's a typical cliche," you roll your eyes, "just give it to me straight, Seokmin. Is it 'cause I'm human?"

"… It's not that simple, and this isn't something trivial. It's — hah — it's a huge commitment." The use of your given name indicates his seriousness. "A lifetime one. For me, it's only ever been you… and it will always be you for as long as I live, which could be your whole lifespan! And I don't, hah, I don't know — hell, it's taking everything I can not to tear a dead man apart, let alone what I'd do if you'd change your mind, want something — someone else."

"You're doing it again, projecting and underestimating my feelings for you."

"It could be the effect of my pheromones, mayfly. We don't know every —"

"That's right! We don't know! So we have to trust each other and see."

"It's —"

"Let's not subject ourselves to the hypothetical. And what do you mean by dead man?"

Seokmin's jaw tenses, fingernails digging into numb skin. His wings waver, like they're considering cocooning around him for protection. But their tips simply flutter as if soothed by an unseen force, preventing them from enclosing completely.

Teasingly, you lean toward him and squint. "What else aren't you telling me, Seok? You pick a side hustle up that involves the deceased like Choi?"

He snorts at the audacity and doesn't take the bait. Instead, unfamiliar but still achingly familiar irises dart to your neck, tracing the silver chain laying against your skin. A dull sort of sadness fizzles out those blue fires and you clasp the shape of the locket beneath your shirt in realization.

"He was a boy, Seok. A boy I grew up with for a short period, one that felt like a brother to me."

"… You said you loved him."

"When?"

"… To Cheol. After you first met him."

"That would've been so long ago? How do you even remember that?"

He sighs, heavily. "It's not easy to forget. Your voice was so warm, so gentle, so in love when you admitted it."

"Love can mean different things! And I assure you, my feelings for you differ greatly from how I felt about him. And… he's… he's long gone, Seok."

Guilt burns in his eyes. "I know. Which makes me all the worse."

"No, it doesn't." You shake your head, a resigned smile resting on your lips, and hold your arms out. "'Cause I understand and forgive you. And most importantly, I love you."

It's uncertain if those words break or restore him, but the hard rigidness in his body melts away, sagging in a semblance of relief. Then he rushes forward into your waiting embrace, wings helping to propel him forward until they wrap around and press you to him tight, tickling areas where his arms aren't squeezing around you.

"And I adore you, my lovely mayfly."

You groan. "When will you stop calling me that?"

"Never," he snickers and you feel the curve of his lips as he comfortably nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "For as long as you're mine."

"Yours?"

"Mine."

"Sucker."

A chaste kiss brushes the lower tip of your ear. So ticklish and unexpected, you pull back with a giggle and playfully swat his shoulder. And just as he's about to dive forward and prove your little comment correct in retaliation, you burst into full-on laughter that leaves Seokmin to settle his hands on your waist with confusion crinkling his brow.

"What?"

"So that's why you were always having a deathly staring match between my childhood memorabilia?"

"… Was not."

"You — the most sentimental loser ever — definitely were!"

He pouts momentarily, the cute jut out of his lower lip quickly transforming to a devious smirk. "You'd bet on it?"

"Totally." You place your arms around his neck, bringing your bodies closer again and matching the charge of electricity with a clever tilt of your lips. "I'd win, too."

"And what's on the table?"

"Sixty billion double dollars, of course."

"That so?"

"Mhm, and it seems like someone's bounty matches that worth."

Seokmin quirks a brow. "Seems like you want me on the table."

"Winner takes all?"

"Mayfly, I've always been yours."

"Sap," you laugh again.

A bright grin certainly declares your delight in victory, though your partner in crime uses the distraction as an advantage for his earlier loss and wastes no time. Diving in, a sharpened canine grazes your pulse point, automatically causing your head to tilt to offer easier access. Two left wings sweetly swoop down for support, feathered tips tenderly brushing your forehead.

The heat of his tongue placates the dragging scratch of his fangs. Though it sears you alive, heating your entire body from the tips of your toes, swirling in your core, and concentrating beneath Seokmin's lips on your skin.

When reaching that cold, familiar necklace you treasure so much and he can't help but loathe, it's seized between his teeth before he registers the action. Tugging it away from your neck like a dog, you wonder if he'll even shake it like one. His eyes follow the length of the chain, focusing on where the locket pops out above your chest.

You raise a questioning brow. "You gonna just play with my jewelry or take my clothes off?"

"Oh," Seokmin whispers, jaw dropping, and suddenly stands stiffly at attention.

You watch, entranced by the bob of his Adam's apple as he visibly gulps. Large, calloused hands — so practiced in undressing you for baths and patching up wounds — falter as they skim along your sides in a fleeting touch. Smiling encouragingly, you intertwine your fingers with those of his prosthetic while leading the other one beneath your shirt, the rough flesh of his palm blisteringly hot against your stomach.

"Is this okay? Can it help calm your Plant powers?"

"Yes… but that means… giving yourself to me… forever."

"Can't think of anything I'd enjoy more."

Confident, you trail kisses up his jaw to his cheek, stopping near his ear. Playfully tugging at the earring hoop as you pull away. Then you break away and bend over, shimmying off your shorts in one smooth motion. Stepping out of them, next goes your top. As each fabric hits the floor, Seokmin's eyes become more lidded, heavy with want. Smoldering. Desiring.

Four black wings fan out and stay as rigid as his stance. As if they're waiting with bated breath. And when you finally stand bare before him, he sheepishly drags his gaze to the floor with a flustered smile.

"I'm the one naked and you're embarrassed?" you tease and his posture relaxes.

"Because you're a vision to behold."

"Says the one who looks like an angel."

You back up until your knees hit the side of the bed. Like those morbid tales that depict curious listeners following a luring call to their demise, Seokmin's only a step behind you. He doesn't dare let his eyes stray further from your own, a goofy grin on his face.

"Consider this my fall from grace then, mayfly."

Gingerly, you sit on the edge of the mattress, waiting for his next move. He towers over you in this position. Formidable in appearance yet oh-so-gentle when picking up your left hand to kiss your knuckles and rub his thumb across its faded scar. Another smooch gets placed to your inner wrist and you hold your breath at the passion in those blazing cyan depths that refuse to look away. Then, a cautious touch to your shoulder urges you onto your back. Obediently, you lay down and a bunch of stray loose feathers fly up into the air upon impact.

"Beautiful," he murmurs.

The clothed knee resting between your legs helps his arm support the weight of his body hovering above you. A tentative hand slides down from your shoulder to your hip, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Caressing every scar, memorizing each color and swirl of ink decorating your skin, and erasing any insecurities or blemishes you see in yourself. Cold digits draw whimsical shapes and tickle your abdomen, stopping above your pelvic bone.

"May I?"

"Of course."

Seokmin rejoices in your consent by littering your collarbone with love bites. And his touches move lower, tender despite their mechanical nature. Warmth blossoms and flows under every surface of your skin Seokmin's traced, coiling and settling in a pulsating — almost painful — heat rupturing between your legs.

Only he can be the one to relieve this ache which he precisely aims to do. A simple, single brush across sensitive folds instantly has your breath hitching, shaking beneath him.

"Are you alright?"

"Mhm… yes."

He audibly gulps at your unexpected whimper of ecstasy, reluctantly tearing away from watching amorous bliss overtake your facial expression to the wet heat detected by his pointer finger's sensors. A feral growl rumbles in his chest at the debauched sight of desire beginning to dampen your thighs — the trace of what he's been smelling from you now overloading every single one of his senses as he coaxes more to flow from you. Seokmin's more than thankful for his enhanced vision and the glow of cybernetic technology baring your most intimate parts to him.

Guided by an instinctual impulse, he eases a finger inside. Your back automatically arches off the bed, eliciting a sweet gasp of delight. The cool touch of the digit seized tightly by the pulsating walls of your cunt slowly warms as it adjusts to the welcome intrusion. He soothingly brushes the knuckle of his middle finger across the soft outer flesh of your pussy to relax its grip. Eventually it lets up enough to let him explore further and deeper than your own have ever reached.

"I'm… I'm not sure how best to please you," Seokmin admits, drinking in your every reaction to his curious ministrations. "But there's this urge, this need, to make you feel good. Prep you properly for my… my entry."

By pure accident, he strokes a rough patch of nerves that makes your eyes roll back, hips lifting at the sensation of wanting more of whatever that feeling was, and your quiet noises melt into a loud, needy moan.

"More," you plead, "touch me more, Seok."

He eases his other finger inside without question, grunting at the squeeze that almost prevents him from moving to where you want him the most. But unlike the rest of his quivering body, the prosthesis remains steady, still, and patient. Waiting until it can bully itself and a third finger past your entrance's vice-like clench.

You start pulling on your breasts, trying to alleviate the tingling in them. Seokmin observes with a keen eye and a toothy, fanged grin. After a bit, he leans down to let his tongue trace the underside of one mound, leaving behind a saliva trail shining in the unconventional lighting as he tends to the next. Alternating with playful nips and naughty tugs to your nipples whenever your grip on them falters from the overwhelming pleasure.

So attentive and eager, soon you're writhing beneath him as you hit your peak. One hand grips your hip tightly, surely to leave a bruise with the way it cramps. His other doesn't let up, well-oiled mechanisms continuing to pump in and out of your trembling pussy until you whine from the overstimulation.

His wings fold protectively around both of you like a canopy as you share a tender kiss. Dazed and happy, you tenderly brush back black bangs and play with one of the feathers that's sprouted near the hairline above his ear. He shivers.

"Let me take care of you too."

"Are you sure? What about your shoulder?"

"That's the least of my concerns right now."

"I can still…"

"Later. First, I want to help you."

Suddenly, Seokmin's shy again, flushed cheeks darkening. "I… I think I'm a little different… down there so it's okay if you don't want to… or get scared."

"It's not like I've seen enough dicks to compare whether what you're packing is normal."

The both of you share a goofy laugh that eases the presumed awkwardness. He sits back to unbutton his pants but you stop him.

"May I?"

You might as well have knocked the air out of his lungs. He stares at you wide-eyed and then emphatically nods, finally clearing his throat to squeak out, "Sure."

Ignoring the aftershocks of your earlier orgasm, you sit up and kneel in front of him. Intent on a few minor distractions, your mouth and hands start at his shoulders to work their way down. Imagining you have the power to heal the damage dealt to his body and soul through tender touches.

You see a sad sense of beauty and justice in the patchwork of metal bolts and bark. And as you apply marks of love that bruise and blossom between them, he lets out a content warble. You're quick to undo the button of his pants, both of you gasping at the utterly wet mess seeping through the material when you tug the zipper down with your teeth.

He lifts his hips to help and once he's just as naked as you do you take him in. Anatomy was meagerly touched upon during your days at the convent, so truthfully all you're aware of at the sight of his heavy cock is the need to be filled with it.

And the closest thing to take him is your mouth, jaw already aching before you even open it. Almost reverently, your hands wrap around to stabilize it. Seokmin hisses pleasantly at the contact.

"You don't have to —"

He's cut off by a groan as you inquisitively suckle the tip. The copious amounts of slick smearing from it and down the base taste sweeter than Seungcheol's lollipops and you moan heartily, causing his thighs beneath your elbows to tense at the vibrations.

"Oh, mayfly."

A wing caresses your cheek that bulges as you take more and more of him, Seokmin's hands tearing at the sheets. The tip of another wing tantalizingly drags down your bare back. Your hands begin to explore, finding the puffy edges around the slit from which the thick cock emerges from. His hips jolt upwards at the contact to sensitive tissues, causing you to gag.

"Ah, 'm sorry!"

While he whispers repeated apologies, you're only compelled to take him further. Slowly you get used to the stretch, but no matter how much more you're able to squeeze down your throat there's still enough of his length for both of your hands to play with. It gets easier the more aggressive you get, his cock seeming to respond to your vigor in tandem. Soon you're lost to the haze of whether you're bobbing your head up and down or it's swirling languidly in your mouth on its own accord.

Seokmin's hips stutter but you feel the tremor first pulse against the inner walls of your throat. His cock throbs as you pull off of it, hollowing your cheeks and parting with deliberately powerful suction. A loud pop releases its tip and your hand supports its weighty girth falling forward. You dig the nails of your free hand into the muscle of his quaking thigh, ducking down to teethe at the puffy slit from where his cock must emerge.

Moving on to licking and dragging the point of your tongue along the sizable vein lining the underside causes Seokmin's low groans to turn into a high-pitched trill. Once you reach the swollen, leaking head and nibble on the hard glans, it spasms wildly and finally erupts. From the top slit seeps sweet syrupy fluid that readily overflows into your awaiting, open mouth.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he blabbers.

You'd reply that there's no need for gratitude, perhaps you'd thank him, but the viscous release keeps spilling out. Rivulets trickle well past your lips and coat your chest. Although still in a euphoric daze, his eyes flash with sharp satisfaction. Instantly possessive at the sight of your bare body decorated so erotically.

His wings snap open — filled with purpose — and your face is pressed down into the mattress. Surrounded in a smoky musk as the angelic monstrosity it belongs to and destined to be your mate hovers above.

Your voice comes out hoarse as you raise up onto your elbows and spitefully spit out a black feather. "Do those wings of yours prevent you from being topped or something?"

"I'll let you find out another time, partner," Seokmin huffs, laughter evident despite his apparent breathlessness. He steals a tender kiss, pleased grunting at how your lips — shiny and swollen — taste of him. "But for now���"

Like an anchor, the tech material warmed by your shared body heat and passion winds underneath your hips, keeping them raised. A calloused, ticklish touch roams traces your spine. He draws an occasional spiral here and there as he goes, mindful of your wound, until firmly pinning the nape of your neck to the side, creating the perfect arch of your back.

"I think you'll like this," Seokmin says as if he isn't liking the view below him.

But for you, straight ahead lies the dresser's mirror. It reflects the full manifestation of an independent Plant poised to devour a human in the most intimate sense. The fearsome size of his cock lies heavy on top of your ass, leaking droplets of arousal all over your backside.

"Will it fit?"

"Of course, you are mine to claim and take." His hips just forward and you both moan. "I think we're both wet enough to try."

"I trust you."

"Let me know if it hurts in any way and we'll stop right away, mayfly."

Many troupes of desert-traveling dancers have mesmerized you before. Yet even they can't compare to the graceful and smooth motion of Seokmin releasing your neck to align his tip with the entrance of your cunt and slowly bullying his way in.

Tears of pain mixing to unfathomable pleasure blur the vision of your mouth widening to let out whines and moans. "Seokkie…"

"Mhm, mayfly… my love… my mate."

Finally, the front of his thighs are flush against yours. Hips pressed tight against your ass. Fully sheathed inside your tight hole, neither of you have ever felt such intensity before. He surrenders his body weight on top of yours, hands braced outside of yours clenching loose feathers and silk sheets. The outer heaviness matches the intensity of what your pussy struggles to accommodate.

"Mine."

Seokmin's hips swirl at a slow pace. Rather than thrust, he massages the sensitive glands at the base of his cock with the soft flesh of your ass. His length seems to shrink and grow and writhe with a mind of its own, filling and teasing you nonstop. Leaving no surface of your inner walls untouched or untended to for too long.

"Yours."

You shudder in blissed-out delirium and Seokmin lights up — literally.

Fluorescent lines glow in distinct patterns across skin, brightening the more he starts to pant and build up your shared pleasure. Sharp canines prick into the skin of your unmarked shoulder as he wraps his prosthesis under your stomach to raise your hips, the new position driving you faster to that rapidly approaching edge. You cry out with a lurch, blurrily making out his glowing form that shudders above.

Though the view in the mirror gets hidden by black wings stroking your entire body. Teasing the underside of your tits and tenderly brushing away the stings of his teeth marks.

"I-I love you," Seokmin rasps.

"Love…" You manage to enunciate the words, mind emptying and drool wetting the bed as your second peak approaches. "Love you too."

Pain and pleasure draw forth an onslaught of your apparent arousal that lecherously mixes with the frothy mess dribbling from his cock. Claws appear on Seokmin's right hand, another addition to the bestial Plant features emerging in the throes of passion. He's not completely lost to the primal thrall though, able to resist from breaking skin.

Delicately scratching your waist without drawing blood, then using the finely pointed tips to pluck and tease effortlessly at your clit. You cry out, body shaking as waves of euphoria crash against the shoreline of imminent pleasure.

Seokmin helps ride out your peak with a couple of speedy thrusts. The feeling of his hips slamming into you has you seeing more stars than Gunsmoke's galaxy contains. And just as you're overcome with too much stimulation, he lets go with a particularly strong bite into the top of your shoulder.

His cock softens and its heavy weight like a blanket along with the continual pump of his warm, soothing release. The feeling of it leaving none of your inner walls untouched feels as sweet as it tasted on your tongue and helps ease the ache inside your cunt. Still joined together and slick with stickiness, he collapses onto his side and gently assists you with rolling over so you can face him.

"Hey, you."

"Hello there yourself, lovely mayfly."

Your nose wrinkles but gets smoothed out by feather tips playing with the ends of your hair. Seokmin smiles as you snuggle closer into his chest so two of his wings can cocoon around you as the heated fervor from prior activities cools.

"Did that help?"

"… Yes," he says though his tone wavers with hesitance.

You raise your chin and see the electric blue luster hasn't faded yet from his gaze. Sheepishly, the corner of his mouth raises and you shiver, feeling the swell of his cock stretch out your pussy. The bulge it creates brushes against Seokmin's abdomen and he twitches.

"Sorry, it's… I'm gonna be kinda insatiable now that I've had a taste…" He trails off, wings snapping behind him. Slowly, he pulls his hips away and you both hiss as his cock is dragged out.

"What are you —"

You're cut off by the animalistic glimmer in his gaze, catching the feral smirk that he attempts to hide by licking his palm. Quick as lightning, Seokmin fleetingly swipes the outer lips of your cunt and brings his fingers, tonguing at them. Body set aflame again, neither of your break eye contact as he moans headily.

"But not of this," he rasps.

Before you know it, you're staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on his ceiling with your mate between your legs. His wings trail along your calves, their flexible ends curling near your inner thighs, encouraging them to spread and stay open, pinning them in place.

"Oh, aren't you a beauty?"

He moans shamelessly at the sight of your messy, glistening pussy. You squirm at the ticklish sensation of his feathers and that smoldering, ravenous look. If only he knew what it was like to see him devour you with his mouth.

Delicious.

Just like the feeling of his tongue working its way inside and licking up the shared essence of your releases.

Your fingers weave between strands of hair as black as night, tugging lightly and accidentally snagging one of his ear feathers. He moans eagerly, and the vibration has you shuddering, already quickly nearing another mind-shattering orgasm. But you don't let him carry you there too fast, smooth brain muscles trying to form a question.

"How… long… how long do these cycles last?"

Seokmin presses a loving kiss to your twitching clit and blows, entranced by how you clench around nothing. Then he smirks, elongated teeth shining in the darkness like a predatory warning though you have nothing to fear.

"As much as you can handle but… we're really only just getting started, mayfly."

The motion light kicks on as Seungcheol shifts his boots in the direction of the unlit kitchen area. Junhui and Minghao's entrance awaken the rest of the lights and they frown at the makeshift bunker set up.

"What are you three doing in here?"

Seungkwan sleepily mumbles a curse word and next to him, Mingyu blearily rubs his eyes. A scattering of empty pudding cups and bottles lie around them as well as a disorganized array of poker cards.

"We're afraid to venture out of here."

Junhui shares a secretive look with his closest friend at Seungkwan's cryptic words. "Ah, so that's happened. Or happening."

"'Bout time y'all came 'round. Time for ya to pay up!"

"Pay up for what?"

"Compensation. 'M the one who got the closest to bein' right knowin' they'd fuck after confessin'."

"If anyone needs compensation, it's me for the mental damage of having to make one of my lovelies into an enhanced sex toy."

Seungcheol guffaws. "Ya didn't! Ya lil cheatin', schemin' scientist!"

Meanwhile, Mingyu looks mighty concerned. "Does that mean Seokmin has a dildo for an arm?!"

Minghao crosses his arms with a steely glare. "No."

"Oh good. I don't think I could look at him the same."

"I don't think any of us will ever look at him the same again."

Junhui eagerly rocks back and forth on his heels, hands stuffed in the deep pockets of his lab coat. "Do you think they discovered all the functions and benefits of it yet?"

"Should be our next bettin' round."

"No more bets. I don't care if it's half a double dollar to go in, I refuse to go through this again."

Mingyu elbows his raven-haired companion. "C'mon, your heart's warmed by this!"

"Warmed and consumed by the rage and fury of hellfire, yes."

Giggling, the tall man smiles widely and holds his hand out. "Alright, I win then!"

"Win what? Thought you didn't remember your bet."

Mingyu purses his lips. "Only because none of you took me seriously and joked with a bunch of gross innuendos when I said they'd find their home in one another!" He then sighs dreamily. "But if I'm right, we'll know by tomorrow morning."

"Who says it'll be tomorrow mornin'. Might take weeks. Months even, I reckon'."

"I'll kick you all out before it comes to that," Minghao threatens and runs a hand through the few strands of hair without a bead. He tosses a wad of money in front of Mingyu. "Never involve me in this again."

Despite all the grumbling, everyone has a sense of lightness in their hearts at the thought of their dear friends finally getting together. And the happiest of them all is Mingyu, who cheerily gathers his prized double dollars, dreaming of all the pudding he can buy.

A lone figure stands on the edge of the valley of the Melca Border. The Sea of Sand, aptly named, can change tide and turn vicious at any second. Their cloak billows in the sandy winds that whip around them, though even the steadfast hood can't hide the satisfied smile on their face.

"You did well," they commend and the name that falls from their lips is one some might consider lost to the sands of time.

"Saintess." Another figure materializes out of the sand gusts in response to the praise. "It is to be done as you said."

"Very well. Shall we go now?"

Whether it's the mysterious sands that swirl around and whisk them away or the lost technology cube that transports them, no one will ever know for no one ever saw them. Like ghosts, they disappear and find themselves outside the real ghost town — where it all began.

A toma croaks in the distance. Brave travelers dare cross the ruined wasteland and the saintess meditating atop one of the largest rocks hidden in the shadows opens her gray eyes tinted by lilac in the glow of the moons to observe. Despite all of her traveling, the white robes wrapped around her body remain in pristine condition.

She turns behind to look at the man standing over a scattering of stones, staring intently at one of them. With poise and purpose, she dusts off her clothes and strides over to him.

"Chan."

Brown eyes tear away from his own name carved into the headstone in front of him to look at the one who's said it aloud.

"Yes, Saintess?"

"Do you regret it?"

"No. Never."

"Good," she states, satisfied with his response. With a grand sweep of her hood to cover short, dark hair, she gestures to the east. "We will set up camp one more night before returning to the Saint in the morning before he speaks with our Master."

Chan mutely nods, following the saintess back into the desert where she confidently leads him to a cave that will shield them from the unpredictable nature of Gunsmoke's wastelands. He thinks of you, the girl he must keep safe and two brothers. One with wings as pure white despite his continual revelry with hate-filled darkness, the other bearing ones the complete opposite color of his twin — a wild card.

He reminisces over the Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood, the convent and all the orphans that lived there. Pondering Sister Meryl's role, who stands before him now as the revered Saintess, leader for the Eye of Joshua and second only to the Bishop of the cult named after himself. She moves curious little statues back and forth across the surface of a large flat rock and the young man can't help but ask her a question in the unnerving silence.

"Do you think this will work?"

Meryl smiles elusively, as always. She picks up the smallest one with a deliberate flourish, placing it on a blackened space close to the last row of alternating squares carved into the stone's surface.

"Have you ever played chess before?"

"No, what is it?"

"An Earthern board game. It is quite complicated." Gesturing to the piece she just moved, she continues. "This is a pawn, the weakest of all chess pieces."

Chan bristles. "But strength comes in numbers, no? There are eight of each color, surely the right side can find a way to win."

Unfazed by his agitation, the saintess nods placatingly. "With the right strategy, even a pawn may become a queen — the most powerful. Unpredictable." She points to a white figurine with a cross on top of it. "Enough to checkmate a king."

Entranced, Chan watches as she rearranges and repositions various pieces across the faux chessboard. Soon, the pawn that took on the mantle of a Black Queen captures the White King. His eyes roam what's left on the battlefield at the end of the match, pointing to one that looks like a tower.

"What's that one?"

"A rook. It best supports an allied pawn towards promotion from behind the scenes." Her eyes sparkle mischievously. "It's most powerful during the end of the game, as you can see."

Chan gulps, holding his breath for a moment, and clears his throat. "Then I'm ready."

"Wonderful," Meryl nods, "we'll depart for Master Dokyeom's stronghold in the morning. I'm sure Joshua, our dear Saint, will be… pleased upon our return."

"To the glory of the Black King's rise."

"And to the glory of our so-called queen."

Keep him safe, Chan thinks to himself as he settles on the ground. And yourself. One day we'll reunite in the most joyous of occasions…

He pulls out a faded wanted poster with the infamous outlaw worth sixty billion double dollars, donning a wishful smile before closing his eyes and murmuring, "I'd even bet this impossible amount on it."

onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©

[celestie0]

binge read kickoff and I’m sooooo obsessed with it. >.< manifesting someone like Satoru. This might seem dumb but I’m just curious to know what satoru’s friends (Suguru, nanami etc) think of reader?

but anywayyy, thank you for this amazing story and have a great day! :)

hiiii my darling omg i'm so happy you've enjoyed kickoff so far!! it means sm to me :''')

omg not dumb at all i would love to answer this!! i think i answered a similar question to this before but i can't remember what i said xD so we'll start fresh haha i mean it's been a while anyway

suguru: oh yes i also got an ask that was wondering if kickoff suguru has feelings for reader or was romantically interested in her since he seems to be a lil flirty sometimes haha but no i think he's just naturally flirty LOL. he's definitely aware of gojo's feelings for her even tho gojo never told him that or anything, i'd like to think he knew gojo had feelings before even gojo knew SDKJFHSDKJF. but yea anywho he def thinks reader is cool n is kinda different from the girls he's used to seeing in gojo's company n i think that's also why he's intrigued by her bc he's like what's up w this girl that she's got my best friend glancing over at the sidelines every two seconds during practice LMFAO. tbh i can see kickoff suguru n kickoff reader being really great friends, they kinda have similar personalities :)

nanami: he has hella respect for her because he likes people who have a craft or a skill that they're passionate about lol. especially if it's something niche, so he thinks that reader knowing a lot about photography n has really fancy cameras etc is really cool. he's mostly indifferent/disinterested in what she has to do w gojo, he doesn't really care about their status of are they friends? are they dating? sorts of stuff, but i'd like to think he pulls her aside sometimes to ask her questions about her camera specs just cause he wants to learn more about it

choso: pls kickoff choso is soooooooo go with the flow, two braincells, smooth brained, slightly grumpy, chronically tired but very sweet hearted in my head. tbh i don't even think he knows reader's name n i'm p sure he's mistaken her as being three different people bc he just cannot cognitively retain faces for the life of him LMFAO. yea he was mostly indifferent n i'm ngl reader was probs invisible to him for the most part BUT when he saw her slap the shit out of ren at the bar he was like :0 god damn that girl's sick. and now his interest has been piqued n he’s like 80% sure he knows her name now. omg i feel like kickoff choso n reader would not get along for some reason skdfhsdflk choso's nonchalant cynicism would clash w reader's anxious optimism

other players on the team: they all are just really hoping that she's getting their good angles when she's takin her snapshots HAHAH. i'd like to think some of them be mewing on the field 💀💀

coach yaga: “STOP DISTRACTING MY STAR PLAYER!!!!!!!!!!! I NEED HIS EYES ON THE BALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

LOL hope this answers bb <3

[bythepen98]

Sry if it looks a bit dark bc I also used it as a lighting study. Plus I finished this while exhausted and stressed out of my mind bc fck caffeine and anxiety

Tododeku 💚❤️

Another dancer!Izuku au (although there isn't any actual dancing drawn here)

The context:

In this scene, Izuku is watching a choreography video that he's about to work on (could be casual or he's doing a solo for an event/comp outside of school). Shouto's there to help him practice: in charge of keeping him steady when he's doing his spins and other maneuvers, turning on/off the music, bringing him a towel or water bottle during breaks, cooling him down when everything's finished.

He's an idiot in love who'll do anything Izuku asks of him, their classmates would say.

And they're absolutely right.

Even if Izuku technically doesn't need any help bc he's practiced on his own many times before, there's nothing wrong with having someone so willing to lessen the load AND keeping him company. He's still rly dense though and never wonders why when, at the corner of his eye, he'd notice Shoto staring at him with that dazed [fond] look on his face but flinch away when he looks back.

And the fleeting touches on his waist or back? Lmao he's gotten so used to physical touches over his years dancing with other people that he doesn't think anything of it. Shoto could probably lift him up (making Izuku instinctively wrap his legs around his waist) or dip him down in a suave move -Mina or Kaminari or good ol youtube taught him that one idk- practically touching nose to nose with the guy with the most obvious, besotted look ever and Izuku would just laugh and pat his head indulgently, completely unfazed.

Shoto isn't too disappointed bc he's just happy to be there and support Izuku in his hobbies. However, Class 1-A continues to give him pitying looks anyway the rest of the day/semester/school year while the teachers, excluding a sleeping Aizawa, are amused and constantly take bets on how things are progressing bc they clearly have nothing better to do than watch over student's love lives like it's a particularly long kdrama. All might is ofc ever supportive and rest assured he's always in the front row with Inko and Shoto in every event Izuku performs in. Katsuki, his platonic soulmate/rival at life also makes it a point to attend as many shows as he can but WILL deny when asked even if you can clearly see his deeply impressed scowl all the way from the stage.

Anyway, that's the limit of my imagination at the moment. I tried my best with this one but looking at it again..... yeah definitely needs more improvement. I'll just have to keep practicing then by drawing more Tododeku and my other loved ships :D