#im very feral about these two soft beans | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ppersonna · 5 years ago

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pick your filter - pjm | m

mix the colors in the palette, pick your filter. which me do you want? the one to change your world, i'm your filter - filter, bts

↳ summary- You love turning Jimin on, and you’re desperate to make him punish you for it. Jimin loves punishing you while you listen to his music.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 5.1k

↳ pairing- jimin x reader

↳ genre- smut, this is literally just smut, there’s 1% plot and it’s pornographic too, there’s some fluff at the end but i repeat it is still smut. there is no god in this chili’s tonight

↳ warnings- buckle up pals. established relationship, explicit descriptions of sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), BDSM themes, spanking, belt usage, dirty talk, derogatory names, pain kink, daddy kink, face-fucking lol, unprotected sex, slight impregnation kink but like not really they just wanna have a baby together and talk about it lol, jimin is filthy and i cannot portray him as anything but filthy but then he has like cute babie syndrome at the end.

↳ a/n- hi i feel maybe 1% shame in how fast i wrote this but whatever. thank you to @carly-bean-blog for sending the prompt in! i loved it and went from a planned drabble to 5k words lolol. one day i’ll be less verbose 🥴🥴 plus enjoy and feel free to send in more requests or just a message to say hi bc as you can see i love talking. also RIP to the wine glass i broke while writing this fic because i hit my table to hard. wine glass 2020-2020

Turning Park Jimin on was a delicious challenge for you.

When you first began dating, all it took was a ‘come over’ text, and he’d be there in 5 minutes flat regardless of the fact that he lived 15 minutes away.

Now, a few years and a marriage under your belt, it took a bit more.

That’s not to say he wasn’t the same insatiable man you met at university; even after all these years Jimin could easily go 3 or more rounds a night.

But really getting him riled up, getting him hard and wanting and desperate for you was another thing. Sometimes, you just wanted him to come home and take you right against the kitchen counter, so turned on he couldn’t even make it to the bedroom.

You’re determined to win that challenge today.

To be truthful, the day was terrible for you, and you were seeking release in the form of your husband dicking you down until you were speaking another language. You were desperate to let loose, push aside the emotional and tender sex that seemed to be more commonplace in the bedroom recently (and you enjoyed equally) but today you needed to be treated like an absolute harlot.

The idea rolled through your mind while you were busying yourself with housework, laundry and dishes. Options of how to get your husband to take you on the floor, rip your clothes off, make you beg for more, simmered in your mind and made the low flame in your stomach burn. Lingerie could do the trick, Jimin definitely liked to see you swathed in delicate lace or creamy satin. You had a nice deep red set that was dying to be used and discarded on the floor.

It came to you as you set your speaker to play some music as you flicked around the house. Jimin’s sweet voice filled the rooms, causing you to pause as shivers raked your spine.

His music. There was always something Jimin loved about having his music on in the background of your sex that made him work harder on you, fuck you deeper. Maybe it was narcissism at its finest, but who were you to complain if it benefitted both of you.

You discarded all thoughts of cleaning the rest of the house as you stalked towards your bedroom closet, gathering the red bustier and panty set, with matching garter belt and stocking clips. You purchased it rather spur of the moment, a huge sale at your favorite boutique, and you wanted to save it for something special.

It appeared the special moment was now.

You took care to curl your hair, a gentle wave with not too much product. Jimin loved to tug his fingers through your locks, and grip them in a ponytail as you sucked his cock. Any product would unfortunately get in the way. Makeup was minimal, a dash highlight on your cheeks and inner tear ducts, light pink lip stain on your lips. Jimin had been the test subject of many a lipstick, as you determined to find the most blowjob-proof one. Needless to say, none of the lipsticks were 100% solid, but it was the best time Jimin ever had as a test subject. You preferred to stick with the stains, easier cleanup for the both of you.

You complete the visual as you swap your grubby cleaning day clothes for blood red lace lingerie, smirking at yourself in the mirror. The cups of the bra molded against you, encasing your tits perfectly. Jimin would surely lose his mind. The panties were simple lace, and you had the inkling that they would not remain intact tonight. Jimin’s propensity for literally ripping your knickers right off you was legendary. But that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted your husband to be absolutely feral for you.

Step two of your plan was now underway as you slipped onto your bed, perfectly made now, and snapped sultry photos. You ensured your cleavage and smooth legs were in the shot, a finger on the mouth. You took a few more, exposing more and more of your body.

me 2:56 pm- hi babe what you up to?

mini 2:56 pm- baby!!!! Not much, just waiting for hobi to get back from lunch so we can practice this new choreo.

Mini 2:57 pm- what about you? besides being the world’s cutest wife :)

Me: 2:57 pm- oh not too much. I did our laundry and cleaned up the house a little. Now im just relaxing and missing my babe :(

Mini 2:57 pm- baby :( i’m sorry. I should be home in a few hours okay! I’ll order in pasta from your favorite place to make up for it

Me 2:58 pm- well, i was sort of hoping you could make up for it but… i don’t want pasta

Mini 2:58 pm- you don’t? What do you want? Pizza?

Me 2:58 pm- [picture attached]

Me 2:58 pm- no, I want you to fuck me until I can’t see straight.

Mini 2:59 pm- oh fuck

Mini 2:59 pm- baby you’re playing a dangerous game, teasing me like this.

You nearly had him, he was sniffing at the bait and soon he’d bite and you’d reel him in. You sent the next picture, showcasing your tits with one cup pulled down, nipple on display.

me 3:00 pm- you mean this kind of game?

mini 3:00 pm- christ

mini 3:00 pm- fuck babe, you’re gonna make me pop a boner at dance practice. You know I can’t come home for a few hours.

me 3:00 pm- hobi still gone? Go to the bathroom and i’ll send you a video.

mini 3:01 pm- holy fuck asdskadj okay

Time for the pièce de résistance. Ensuring the speakers blasted ‘Serendipity’, your husband’s full length solo, you clicked the record button and filmed your hand sliding down to your clothed core, rubbing over the mound with a rough hand. You breathed heavily, sighed, mewled a bit.

“Daddy,” you gasp. “Come home.”

You end it with a hand sneaking under the band and insertion of one finger. Leave him not just wanting more, but rabid for it. The video file is sent before you've even pulled your fingers from their spot resting on your clit.

Minutes passed, you were sure he was watching. The man lived for your exhibitionism.

mini 3:06 pm- you better have your hands behind your back and be on your knees when i get home, little one. In the middle of the bedroom floor.

mini 3:06 pm- i want you to listen to the music and think about me fucking you. Think about how i destroy your little cunt so good.

mini 3:07 pm- but don’t you dare touch yourself. Your pussy is only mine to play with, you got that?

me 3:07 pm- yes daddy

mini 3:07 pm- good. I’ll be home soon.

Congratulations, you smirk to yourself in the mirror's reflection across from you. You’ve won the grand prize. Please make sure you collect your prize from the man with the raging boner.

You idly realize that Jimin hasn’t told you when he’ll be home. You know that on any normal day he’d be home at 5:30. But was he leaving early? Could you chance it? As much as you wanted to disobey and face his delicious punishment, he also could just as easily punish you by not letting you cum at all. And the chances of that type of discipline tonight was high; Jimin would surely make you pay for teasing him at work by exacting torturous ache the same to you.

You’re spinning the pros and cons of preparing yourself now or later, when you are given your hasty answer by the sound of keys jingling in the front door. Your heart rate spikes dangerously, feeling like the muscle would force the blood out of your veins with the pressure.

You squirm off the bed and descend to the floor on your knees, resting back on your heels, and holding your hands behind your back. You lower your head to the floor, knowing Jimin loves it when you avoid eye contact until he tells you when and where to look.

His footsteps are heavy, slow and torturous because you know that he knows that you’ll be on the very edge of your sanity. The warmth in your belly is torched with tinder and starter and is flaring high. Jimin’s simple presence, just like this, is enough to get you to an incredible high. Nothing brings you to your knees faster than when he turns from your sweet, adorable and gentle husband into the sadistic and powerful dominating owner of your body and soul.

It takes 5 deep breaths from your belly before you hear Jimin enter the bedroom. He’s not saying a single word, but you can hear his soft footsteps on the hardwood floor. Your knees are aching at the pressure of the hard floor, but you ignore it. You’d ignore cauterizing wounds for the man hovering above you if he asked.

You’re trembling, you notice. Your thighs are quivering ever so slightly and the grasp on your hands behind you is weakening. You grip harder, determined to maintain perfect correct form.

Jimin is frustratingly silent. He walks around you, and you feel his eyes rove your body intently, as if looking for fault or reason to punish you. He seems pleased when he finishes his rounds, standing right in front of you.

“Look at me,” he states with authority, but his tone is gentle.

You finally tilt your head up to gaze at your lover and nearly gasp at the sight. Jimin is, on an average day, the most ethereally beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Today, he looks as if he descended from heaven mere minutes previous. His pink hair is pushed back, eyes darkened with desire, and wearing the tightest shirt you’ve ever seen, making his toned dancer’s body ripple under the cotton. Tight sweats that leave nothing to the imagination about what he’s packing between his thighs sit low on his hips and you spot just a hint of his lower abdomen, the v line of his adonis belt, and you’re sure you’re drooling.

“Look at me,” he corrects, a smirk on his face. Your eyes snap to his own again, and he winks at you.

“Have you been a good girl for daddy?” He asks, and it feels like a loaded question.

You play it coy. “Yes, daddy.”

He stands still in front of you, hand stroking his face as he watches you. His eyebrow arches.

“Are you sure? You have done nothing to upset Daddy? Nothing at all?” His voice becomes teasing, and the smirk on his features is sinister.

You bite your lip. “I sent Daddy a video of me, touching myself to his music.”

“That’s right, angel,” he murmurs and circles you again. You feel like his prey before he comes in for the kill. “You made daddy leave practice early. Don’t you think that’s not being a good girl?”

“No, I did wrong.”

“I’m glad you agree,” he murmurs. “I’m gonna make you regret getting Daddy hard and horny at work.”

He places his hands on your shoulders and you shiver. His hands are smooth, warm. You love the way you feel the cold steel of his wedding ring pressed to your skin, a tangible expression of his love and loyalty.

“Stand up,” he directs. You’re quick, thankful to be off stinging knees. He lets his hands glide down your back to meet at your clasped hands, pulling them apart and turning you to face him.

He threads his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, sealing your lips to his. His lips are soft and taste of chapstick, a hint of sweat, and something just so simply Jimin that is addictive. He’s gentle and tender in the kiss, the kind of kiss a husband gives his wife. It speaks miles beyond the simple action, and you chase it, revel in it, knowing it’s the last time he’ll be gentle tonight.

He breaks from the kiss, touches your nose gently and winks. It makes your heart flutter in your chest.

The control seeps back into his face; it's physically present in the tight gaze of his eyes and the coolness of his impassive features. It’s a stark opposite of who just kissed you, and you’re breathless at the sudden change.

“Gonna spank you with my belt, baby,” he murmurs. A hand slaps hard against your ass, surprising you and making you squeak out loud. “Lean over my desk like a good little slut.”

You obey immediately, jerking your body towards his grand oak desk. It’s gorgeous dark wood that matches the decor of your room perfectly and makes for a delicious spot for your sexual proclivities without being obvious. As much as Jimin wanted a sex swing, you would not cave to that.

You bend to fold your body over the desk, gripping the edge and pushing your hips back to allow for more access to your husband. The speaker system by your bed plays music, and you recognize the opening chords as one from his latest album with his six best friends. A smile slips to your face as the volume turns up, quiet enough you can talk, but loud enough it’s noticeable. His smooth, melodic voice is ringing through your bedroom and through your entire body.

He stalks in behind you and rubs at your soft globes.

“Mmm, you look so pretty in this,” he compliments. “You know I love seeing you in red.”

You turn your head to gaze at him, smiling. “That’s why I bought it, Daddy.”

“Good little bitch,” he sighs.

As expected, he rips the underwear from your body with one clean pull. You’re always surprised by the action. He never gives warning. Your eyes follow as the useless fabric soars towards the ground.

“Much better.”

He moves away from you, walking towards the closet. You train your eyes forward, keeping locked on the wall ahead of you, rather than staring. Jimin tells you when and where to look and you follow that.

The gentle clinking noise of a belt buckle causes your pussy to quake. You’ve been slowly moistening since you sent the first text, but you were now starting to drip as if you were overflowing. By the end of the night, you’ll be drowning in it.

He’s behind you again as quick as he left and he rubs the leather belt against your bare behind.

“What’s your word?” He asks, soothing at the skin with the device that will soon maar it. Jimin is ever careful, checking on your mental and emotional safety as well as your physical, and ensured a safe word was in place each time.

“Red,” you assert. He hums his approval and kisses your ass once, one quick little peck, before he lifts back up to standing.

“Count for me, little whore.”

The crack of the belt spanking your cheek electrifies you. You feel as if every muscle in your body clenches as the sting vibrates through your buttocks and down to your core.

“O-one!” You’re shouting, distracted by the pain in your ass to care about your pitch.

Crack. The next slap lands on the other cheek now, and you hiss at the pain. It bites at your skin, and it soaks your pussy.

“Two!”

He delivers the next straight in the center, hitting both cheeks and letting the sizzle melt its way to a pleasure that’s reverberating through your core.

“Three! Fuck!” you gasp.

SMACK. It’s the hardest yet and tears well up in your eyes at the initial whollop, before your hips are writhing and desperate for friction.

“Four!” You’re wailing and you know it makes your husband go even wilder.

“Stay still or I won’t let you cum for a month,” he grits. Your hips stay put, knowing he’s a man of his word and not wanting to face his wrath.

He continues his barrage, and you’re counting out 15 strikes before he stops. You’re sobbing, the pain and pleasure surging so forcefully through your veins that your cunt clenches around nothing and you’re dripping onto the wood of the desk.

His warm hands are soothing at the reddened flesh of your ass, the sensation stinging at first, but oozes away to a relaxing warmth against the punished skin.

“Good girl, baby,” he commends you, hands rubbing all over your flesh. “Took your punishment like such a good girl.”

You sniffle in reply and he pulls you up, making you stand on wobbly legs. He twists you around and pecks your lips again, a reminder that Jimin, your husband, is still there and loves you more than he loves life itself. It soothes you more than any salve could and it steels your resolve to continue. It’s easy to submit and thrill at the loss of control when you trusted the master with your entire being.

“Color?” He asks, checking in with you.

“Green,” you smile.

He’s pleased with your answer. He pulls away from you and pushes you towards the bed.

“Lay down on your back. Head off the side. I’m going to fuck your throat, and you will take it all.”

You’re giddy as you saunter to the bed and notice that Jimin is proud of the blooming red of your ass. It’ll be a literal pain in the ass to sit tomorrow, but it’s worth all the doting and affection you’ll receive in return for being such a good girl for him. The music has changed, another sensual track featuring your talented husband. It sends shivers down you, straight to your core.

You maneuver your body to lie on the bed, grateful for the soft blanket on your burning ass, and tip your head off the bed. Your mouth opens complacently and Jimin shoves his sweats down to reveal his hardened length.

You’re licking your lips like his dick is the finest meal money can buy, and he chuckles. His left hand strokes it, shivering at the cold press of his wedding ring mixing with the heat of his hand.

“You want my cock?” He asks.

You nod, captivated with the motion he strokes the shaft. You almost forget to speak, but his harsh gaze is like a whip.

“Yes! Yes, I want your cock Daddy!”

“Tell me what you want to do to me,” he hums.

Well, this would be too easy.

“I want to suck you dry, let you fuck my throat so I can’t breathe. I’ll let you cum down my throat and make my face so messy from cum and spit that it gets in my eyes and messes up my pretty makeup, daddy.”

His strokes have become faster, and he sucks in hard for air. “Such a filthy fucking mouth.”

You open said mouth again, letting your tongue hang out like a welcome sign to your throat.

He growls, it’s guttural, and it feels as if it’s positioned on your clit, vibrating the nub. Your bliss is cut short as he drives his thick dick into your mouth and directly to the back of your throat, leaving you no time to prepare. You whine slightly around it, and he tsks.

“Don’t you fucking dare whine. Take it all,” he sounds ruthless and your pussy quakes.

He sets a punishing pace, the tip of his dick ramming through your throat. It doesn’t take long for it to become messy, saliva trickling from your mouth, falling towards your eyes due to the angle of your supine head. Jimin sounds angelic, the moans that leave the dancer’s body should be recorded and played for an audience, you think. You’d suffer through hours of this for the reward of his sweet voice crying out your name.

“Fuck, my little cock slut loves it when I fuck her throat, hmm,” he asks, breathy and harsh. You nod as much as you can.

“Yeah, that’s right. You love daddy’s cock, don’t you? You love it when I fucking choke the shit out of you with my fat cock, huh?”

The voice of an angel with the words of the devil himself. The duality is intoxicating and you are head over heels for both Jimin’s inside of him, every aspect of the man you pledged your life to.

“Mmm, you suck me so good,” he’s groping at your tits through the fabric of your bra. You’re surprised that it’s still on, but you trust he’s aware and always has a plan.

“Are you crying, baby?” He asks mockingly. Tears and saliva mix and your face is completely ruined by it. You nod again and blink. “Good, fucking choke on it.” he goes even faster and you’re moaning. It hurts and the gag reflex is there, but the pain gets you off, and you know the second it became too much, your husband would stop in an instant.

“Little sluts get their face fucked when they disobey daddy,” he chides, emphasising each word with a thrust.

It’s as if you’re desperate for his orgasm, wanting nothing more than to swallow every ounce of what he spills into you, clean him up and ask for more. He won’t have that tonight, it seems, as he’s pulling out of you as quickly as he entered.

“I want to cum in this tight little cunt,” he bites. You slither up from your position and wipe at your eyes, resting against the pillow after he orders you to remove the bustier. He asks that you leave the belt and stockings on, however.

“Spread those pretty thighs for me, baby,” he’s discarded his shirt and is sitting ahead of you, watching you. His gaze turns you on and opens you up like a flower.

Your thighs are spread far and you lean back further onto the pillows to put the star of the show on display. You’re coated with your slick; it’s slathered up and down your thighs and dripping onto the duvet below you. He breathes out in appreciation.

“I think my favorite thing about you is how fucking wet you get for me.” He’s still not moving and you want to beg him to touch you, please do something, but refrain. “You feel like a fucking dream when I’m inside you.”

“B-baby,” you break character and freeze, but he ignores it and allows you to continue as you sigh with relief. “I need you.”

“Do you now?” he banters, and you nod with wide, needy eyes.

“Touch yourself for me, then. Show me how badly you want daddy’s cock in you.”

A hand flies to your cunt in record time and you’re desperately eager to spread the lips of your folds apart and rub at your slick and swollen clit. A breathy, heady moan escapes you at the friction you’ve been aching for since you sent the sexy photo hours ago.

“Fuck!” you shout, circling the bud. Jimin’s eyes are glued to your hands, and he watches with awe.

“Finger yourself,” he demands and you’re obeying before he’s even finished speaking, two fingers slipping down to enter your channel. You arch off the bed and grip a breast in your other hand, flicking at the nipple for extra sensation.

He coos at you as you fuck yourself with wild abandon, gasping his name as you slip deeper with each thrust.

“Add another.” His voice maintains its even quality, maintained and cool. But if you opened your eyes, you’d see that he’s salivating at the sight, desperately restraining himself. His cock is weeping pre-cum and he could explode in an instant watching this too long.

Your ring finger slips in with the other two and you’re keening at the stretch. The pain is gone in a flash, just a pinch that simmers to a desperate pleasure.

“You look so fucking good, baby,” he breaks his composure, momentarily. He’s so in love with you, every single fucking bit, that he can’t help it. “God, you’re beautiful.”

His words have you blushing, as if they’re the most lewd part of the evening and not the fact you’re fingering yourself in front of your husband while he watches and orders you around.

“Rub your clit with your other hand, love.”

The pressure of your added hand on your clit and the fingers thrusting into you has you soaring to your high and your throat chokes on the air. “O-oohhh fuckkk!” You whine.

“You close, baby? You gonna cum on those cute little fingers and get them messy for daddy?” He asks, voice violently serene.

“Y-yes! Please, I want to cum,” you beg. You know the rules, he tells you where and when your body receives its pleasure.

“You wanna cum?” He asks again, and you feel a spike of irritation. He’s already asked you that, haven’t you already answered?

“So badly, daddy! Please! C-close.” Words are escaping your mental capacity now. You’re there, nearly there, just one little tiny string holding you back from the edge of euphoria.

“Too bad.”

Your fingers are pulled from your cunt quickly and you’re crying. Tears are forming in your eyes as you feel an ache deep to your womb. You had been so close, so deliciously close. Jimin knows this, thrills at watching you edge further and further through the night. You won’t admit it at the moment, it’s pure torture then, but the buildup to the finale is indescribable.

“You don’t get to fucking cum until I tell you to cum. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, yes! Yes, Daddy,” you babble, nearly incoherent from arousal and denial.

He makes you writhe there, pussy so slick its soaking the blankets and you’ll have to change them later but the only thing you think about is your cunt, your weeping cunt that’s screaming to release.

You feel your breath slowing and know that Jimin wants you to come back down to earth before he’ll bring you up again.

“Good fucking girl,” he kisses your belly, licking at the navel. He whispers quiet words of adoration as he trails down your abdomen and end at the top of your mound. Your legs are shaking, no, they’re nearly convulsing from need.

He spreads your folds, and it’s pornographic the way he spits on your pussy, as if it needs any more wetness. It’s not about the wetness, though, and you know it. It’s about the message, the ownership.

“My favorite little fuck toy,” he murmurs, lightly tracing everywhere but the bud throbbing with need for friction. “I can’t wait to cum inside this little pussy tonight. Gonna flood your whole fucking cunt, babe.”

Jimin knows the way to your heart, and the way to your orgasms is through his words. Gentle whispered ‘i love you’s’ in the day and disgusting filth at night. It’s just another reason in a list of a million why you work so well together.

“Should we get you nice and pregnant tonight? You want to make a baby?”

You nearly sob at his words. He can fuck you harder with his words than his cock.

“Please!” You’re yelling, tears streaming down your face. “P-please! I want your baby.”

He leans down and smiles for a moment before speaking. “Well, my little wife will always get what she wants when she asks so nicely.” His lips attach to your clit, suctioning it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. It’s swollen and slick, and it feels like fucking heaven. His plushy lips are working for it, taking you so desperately close to the edge.

You’re gasping a symposium of his name and praising the ground he walks on. You’re sure if you died now you’d die a very fucking happy woman. The world around you is gone, and it’s just Jimin’s sinful mouth suckling at your cunt.

You’re close again, and Jimin knows it. You’re begging, pleading with him, but it’s useless as he roughly pulls away.

The music continues on in the background. It’s lighter, and Jimin croons in the speaker as he grunts in your ear.

He muffles your anguished cry with a messy kiss that tastes of you, and he’s thrusting into you. The slickness guides him in easily and he’s whining against you at the feel of your walls accept him and hugging him tightly as if they’ve missed his cock swelling within them.

“JIMIN!” You’re seeing fireworks as your husband fucks into you, holding you close to him. It’s as rough and kinky as it is intimate and sweet. He holds you, cherishes you, while he’s pistoning his thick member into your loud, drenched cunt.

“I love you,” he whispers, slipping a thumb into your mouth that you suck at eagerly, as skilled with his fingers as you are with his cock. “I love you so fucking much.”

His eyes align with yours, yours full of tears of absolute unrivaled pleasure, and his with full and never-ending devotion.

You’re both so close, and you pull him against you to kiss his lips. You want to connect completely to him as you cum, as he spills into your womb and creates something, someone there.

Your cunt flutters intensely, quaking in anticipation as it builds and builds and builds. Jimin breaks the kiss to breathe and warn you, “I’m going to cum soon, baby, please cum with me.” He’s gentle and sweet, the Jimin who cries at love stories and wears flower crowns now present inside you. You nod quickly, gasping as the coil winds tighter and tighter.

Your kissing is messy, passionate, and your hands grasp him everywhere. You’re tugging at his toned arms and solid back, seeking refuge as the tidal wave grows impossibly high, higher, so so high,

And crashes into you at 100 miles per hour. Your cunt is contracting and pulsing around him so intensely you nearly black out, crying loudly into his mouth. He’s groaning with you, the feeling of your already impossibly tight walls clenching down on him demands the orgasm out of him. He’s cupping your whole face in his hands as he spills into you and your walls suck him in further, so far he could disappear completely.

It feels as if you orgasm for hours, but it's merely minutes later that you’re trying to catch your breath and slip back into reality. You’re clinging to each other like last lifelines and the gaze between you is so intense it clenches at your racing heart.

The silence between you two is long and speaks an entire conversation before your lips even open. He’s singing so sweetly through the speaker, it sounds like he’s singing directly to you. “I love you,” you’re whispering to him.

He rubs at your cheeks in his palms, wiping away stray tears of bliss that have slipped down your face.

“I love you.”

You settle into him, unwilling to move a single inch away from your husband, and marvel at the beauty that is your life, your future.

Jimin holds you close, kisses you gently and sings softly along to the music as you fall asleep, and he adores the fact that he holds his entire world, his future, in his arms.

#bangtanarmynet #maknaesmutsociety #kwritersworldnet #btswriterscollective #btswritersnet #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts jimin #bts park jimin #jimin #park jimin is a dom #you cannot change my mind #well maybe you could #but a girl can wish okay

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faunusrights · 5 years ago

Text

OFFAL HUNT REMASTERED LIVEBLOG // CHAPTER 16

in which murphy nearly cries AGAIN over this fic AGAIN

Cinder didn't say anything. She returned that searching look, like she was wanting something too, like she believed Glynda held some key for her own soul.

HELP ME PLEASE GOD HELP

STOP!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE I BEG OF YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i GUESS WE HAVE THIS CHAPTER TOO. I GUESS. OH MY GOD. IM GONNA SCREAM.

we’re opening with florence + the machine lyrics and i LOVE me some florence which is the only thing helping me cope rn but HERE WE GO. WE JUST HAD PAIN. NOW IT’S TIME FOR. MORE, PROBABLY.

The room was cast in filtered blues that seemed to drown all other color, an abyss of night that stole the reds of Cinder’s dress, smothering her in wine-violet.

i once made an offal hunt bingo card that i should have been using the entire time (whoops) but add ‘colour theory’ to it somewhere. and also because i see violet i see glyndas colour am i onto smthng here,

ALSO:

She hadn't said a word beyond what was strictly necessary through the entire ride up to her little apartment.

glynda... have u been invited into a lady’s apartment,,,,,,,,, GLYN,,,,,,,,,, HAVE U PULLED,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, G L Y N D

The lights reflected in her eyes in discs, like screens, like cat’s eyes—shockingly yellow in all the somber blue.

FUCK YEAH

FUCK YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IT’S GLOWY EYES HOURS FUCK YEEEEEEEEEEEEAH

i have been WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT for like FOREVER oooooooh my god yes. YES. cinder yr PRETTY EYES. i love her. did i mention that. because i do,

Glynda had heard of Faunus taking blades to themselves, to try and hide their features and escape the ever-present eye of human oppression. To cut away ears and horns and tails, shearing parts of their own bodies in a desperate break for freedom.

i want to say something thats VERY 👈😢👈 because i. hrm. dont worry abt it. im filing it away. like glynda is. but in a sadder context.

‘whats sadder than this?’

dont ask,

That couldn’t happen. Glynda didn’t want that to happen. No matter the risk. No matter how Cinder would lash out.

OUGH,,, glynda if u start 2 care then cinder will start 2 care and thats a one way ticket on the pain train to gaytown. i, for one, am thrilled,

The response on Glynda’s tongue withered as Cinder, with little fanfare, lifted her dress over her head and laid it haphazardly across the dresser. When Cinder turned back around, the faint sliver of light found purchase in the thin chain around her neck and the jade pendant laid against her bare chest.

OH SHIT

/crashing sounds

MA’AM,

im having to take a minute just give me a minute please give me a m in u te

It was impossible to tell whether Cinder noticed her sliding out to the left of her own body.

glynda, but slightly to the left,

HONESTLY ME TOO!!!!!!!!!!!! HELLO??????????????????? MA’AM

this bed sharing is the straw thats gonna break the murphy’s back. this is it. im gonna die.

Mindfully slow in the darkness, Glynda walked to the other side of the bed, folded her glasses onto the nightstand, and slid under the covers next to Cinder. A small space existed between them. Glynda’s heart thumped in her chest as she tried to discern even the slightest motion from Cinder at her back. Proximity made her dizzy with warmth.

im not even able to comment on like specific instances because im as LOST AS GLYNDA IS RN,,,, WHAT,,,, HELLO?????????????? GLYNDA. THEYRE

THE BED

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Glynda jostled her shoulder. “Are you awake? Cinder?”

“You’re not giving me much of a choice,” Cinder said, unmoving.

og offal hunt COULD never DID never WOULD never i am absolutely going fucking ape shitt crazy feral rn. holy shit. holy shit. lads. the bed. the bed. theyre in the bed. you. whats going on.

“I know,” Glynda agreed. “You’re kind of a menace.”

Cinder was silent. In hindsight, that hadn’t come out as encouragingly as Glynda meant.

hsdjgfsgdf if this is what its like when these two are. semi-enemies. can u imagine what it’ll be like when theyre dating

(i can)

“If I showed up on Sienna Khan’s doorstep with an army behind me, she’d demand to know what took me so long to come home.” Cinder’s eyes were burning coals lodged in the sockets of her shadowed, furious face. “Fuck her. Fuck all of them.” She paused only for breath. “It’s been years—decades—and they still think—”

GOD. THE LORE!!!!!!!!!!! i am SO interested in cinders backstory and this version is rly just going wild. going hoggie wild on this shit. what the hell happened. why did it happen????????? whats going on?????? CINDER... TELL US MORE...

She was furious, like a cornered and wounded Grimm; furious, and hungry for violence.

👈😔👈

“If there is, bring me with you.”

“You?”

“Yeah.”

this is some poetic cinema. this is some soft and tender shit. i want to cry. why is this SO good.

Something small and charmed crawled out of the hollow of Cinder’s expression: the flicker of a smile, for just a moment. She said softly, “We weren’t all born with ancient souls, Glynda. Some of us were lucky to be born at all.”

👈👈👈😭😔😞👈👈👈

this is so soft. im absolutely dying. im going to die. take me out.

It must have been the room, or the night, or air, or—something—that made Glynda admit, “I wish—that I felt that way.” At the expectant silence that followed, Glynda swallowed and continued, “Not—not with the White Fang. Just… I wish that it felt like everything had been leading to something. That everything in my life was worth it.”

Cinder was very quiet.

I AM LITERALLY SCREAMING. DIESEL. KC. I WILL PERSONALLY BURN DOWN YOUR HOUSES OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!! STOP!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

oh this sucks SO MUCH MORE when you KNOW THINGS(tm) ABOUT THINGS and ooooooooooooooooh my god im literally gonna fuckin die oh my GOD STOP!!!! STOP I HATE IT

It was like swallowing water and holding it in her lungs. She hated how it hurt. But she would rather that than drive Cinder away. She would rather anything than be alone right now.

the good news: this edition of offal hunt is so much more potent abt everything. EVERYTHING feels more vibrant and more real and more interesting and more... everything. and its GREAT i adore it

the bad news: im fucking sobbing

“Ten,” Glynda said. “I enrolled at Beacon when I was twelve.”

okay this is still a very sad moment but also can you fucking imagine rolling up to class at 17 and seeing a literal 12 year old look you in the eye and go ‘you know i can tutor you if you need extra help’. id be fucking livid. who is this square,

Instead, Cinder dared nearer, smoothing a stray lock of hair behind Glynda’s ear. It was an oddly comforting gesture, coming from her. Glynda’s heart stalled in her chest and Cinder, ignoring it, said, “I know it meant a lot to you. That he meant a lot to you.”

me, pointing: this is it ladies and gents and beans. this is it. cinder’s gone and done it now. i can feel it on the wind. here it is. there it goes.

“What is your destiny?” Glynda asked, feeling bolder than before.

The fingers brushing hair behind Glynda’s ear stalled. Cinder’s palm laid warm against Glynda’s high, sharp cheekbone. Something stuttered and then leapt between them, and Glynda’s face went hot when Cinder whispered, “You.”

“Me?”

“We were born in the same year. You couldn’t have known that—that we’re the same age.” Cinder paused and withdrew her hand, tucking it against her own chest. “But my mother felt it. I always knew.”

Glynda didn’t begin to know how to respond.

“We were born in the same year,” Cinder repeated, almost as if to remind herself, like swearing an oath. “We’ve always been each other’s destiny.”

“I always thought it was my destiny to die,” Glynda finally admitted. “Just like my mothers.”

“No,” Cinder said, distantly. “No, it isn’t.”

okay its bad form to grab SUCH a huge section to like bring attention to it but this is. so much. not just from a fucking offal veteran perspective but SO much more too. like this section is just IT its the CORE of the THING!!!!!! and i wish i could go into why hooooooooooooly shit this bit is just. It(tm) but thats a spoiler so i will settle for this

👈👈👈👈👈👈👈👈👈👈😭😭😭😭😭😭😔😔😔😔😞😞😞😢😢😢😢😢😨😨😨😨👈👈👈👈👈👈👈👈👈

cinder’s last line? has me on the FLOOR. THE FLOOR.

When Glynda asked Cinder what her destiny was, Cinder had said you.

The echo of it was butterflies in Glynda’s stomach.

im losing it. ima bsolutely beside myself

An unfamiliar tension lined Glynda, one she couldn't name or place or recognize. It choked up her throat and clogged her lungs with some unfathomable longing, but for what, she could not place. She looked at Cinder, studying every part of her face, and knew she was studied in turn; Cinder’s lips parted slightly as if she was about to speak, but she said nothing in the end.

But even without speaking, Glynda felt like she’d found an answer to a question she hadn’t had the courage to ask.

OOF. GOD. IM. AH. SHIT. C H R I S T.

i know that this is. [redacted]. and things. and that this is gonna turn into a chapter i look back on and WINCE at when [redacted] and [spoilers] happen but ooooooooooh my goooooooooooooooooood im dying. im outtie. goodbye. rip. fuck me.

#rwby #offal hunt #liveblog #im dying

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marblesarelost · 7 years ago

Text

Some Things You Have To Work For (don’t give up on the Dream)

(Author’s note: I honestly had no idea that changing my Tumblr name would make this disappear. My humblest apologies.)

(Author’s Note: I love soulmate tropes. In this universe, there are two types of soulmates: platonic and romantic. Platonic soulmates’ words are written in silver on one’s skin once activated. Romantic soulmates have golden words, once said. This will be a serial, updated on the last week of the month. Hope you enjoy!)

The only sound for miles around was that of the night birds and bugs, and Kurt’s soft humming as he did the supper dishes. Logan settled a little better into his lawn chair, fishing pole in hand, beer between his legs. Yep. Things were good.

“Is this what you always do?” Nightcrawler called through the screen door. “When you go off on your rambles?”

“Not always,” Logan admitted after a minute. “I like this best, though.”

“Ja. I can see why. It is beautiful here,” Kurt replied softly.

“Peaceful. It helps with…things.” Logan shrugged, sitting up a little; the slouch was starting to hurt his back. “Mind bringin’ me a fresh beer when you come back out?”

“Almost done,” came the promise, and Logan settled back again for a second before a new scent crossed his nostrils, bringing him up and out of the lawn chair in an instant, a low growl rising in his throat.

“Logan?” He heard Nightcrawler say, but he didn’t respond, holding his hand up instead in the team sign for wait, quiet. He sniffed again, tested the wind, judged the angles, then gave the sign for come, quiet, trusting that Kurt would sneak instead of teleport, since there wasn’t a way to dampen the noise. A minute later, he felt the give of the dock behind him.

“Somebody’s down the shore,” Logan said quietly. “I can smell their adrenaline, they’re trying to work themselves up into something, but they’re scared. They’re real scared.”

“So you would frighten them more by having me come outside?” Kurt whispered.

“You only look scary, Elf. You got a better way with folks than I do,” Logan replied. “Come with me an’ do the talkin’.”

“Mein Gott. How do I let you talk me into such things?” Kurt grumbled, but he followed Logan down off the dock onto the path beside the lake, both of them well able to see in the dark. They moved quickly and quietly, Logan leading them up into the patch of underbrush and Kurt careful to put his feet precisely where Logan had as they went. Logan held up his hand again, and crept forward, a little further, little further…

The girl leapt at Logan like a wild thing, fists flying, kicking, biting, but the old brawler whirled her around, picking her up and holding her as she writhed and struggled. "Calm down, little bit, we ain’t gonna hurt ya,” Logan said, before that telltale sound rang through the forest.

SNIKT.

“Logan, no!” Kurt shouted, bursting through the underbrush as Logan dropped the girl, blocking -- “Mein GOTT!”

Two blades gleamed in the half-moon’s light, swinging wildly at Logan, whose own claws rose to block hers. She stopped then, backing away, looking at Logan with a face neither man could read. “Shiny, sharp,” she muttered. “Shiny sharp.”

“Oh, hell,” Logan said, and dropped to a knee. “No. No, I won’t kill another. No.” He retracted his claws, watching the girl. “Hey. Hey there.”

“Hey,” she repeated. Kurt got a good look at her then; her cheekbones were sharply accented, her cheeks sunken. Her shirt was at least three sizes too large, and she held the waistband of the pants she wore tightly, the pant legs raggedly cut, and she was barefoot. She was at least a teenager, he thought, but he wasn’t precisely sure.

“Hey. You got -- you got writing on you, honey? Words? Written words?” Logan asked softly. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Words?” She said, and Logan nodded, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on her.

“Yeah. Words. Writing.” He reached down with one hand, tugged his shirt up over his belly, exposing the silver words written there. “See? Like this?” The girl dropped to her knees, crawling forward slowly, looking up at Logan with wary eyes every other second. “I won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt me, baby girl,” he rumbled. Tentatively, the girl reached out with one finger, tracing the words on his skin. “You know what it says? Can you read?” She shook her head, sitting back on her haunches. “It says, shiny, sharp, shiny, sharp,” Logan told her. “Your first words to me. Do you have words?” In answer, she tugged up her left pant leg, showing Logan’s scrawling handwriting winding around her leg. “Yep. Those are my first words to you. Silver, like mine,” he said. “Means we’re gonna be real good friends. You know what friends are?”

“Friends,” she repeated, still sitting there in a pistol squat position. “Friends. Not hurt.”

“Yep,” Logan agreed. “Can you tell me your name, little bit?”

“Name?” She cocked her head to the left.

“What do people call you? I’m Logan,” he said, pressing one hand to his chest. “Logan.”

“Not doctor.”

“No, baby,” Logan agreed, his lips curling back from his teeth in a feral snarl. “No doctors.”

“Doctor talk. Doctor talk, X-23 successful. X-23 weapon. Doctor talk X-23.”

“The doctors called you X-23?” Logan asked in a low growl. “They didn’t even give you a goddamn name?”

“X-23.”

“You ain’t a number. You’re a person,” Logan snarled. “Did you run? From the doctor?” She nodded fiercely. “Did you get’em, baby girl? Did you make’em bleed?” A snarl to match his own crawled across her face as she nodded again. “Oh, good job, dolly.” Logan swallowed. “Okay. So. You want somethin’ to eat?”

“Yes…” her voice trailed off as she looked to the side. “Please?” She added uncertainly.

“Yep. Come here, I’ll carry ya over these rocks, some of’em are sharp as hell. You like fish?”

“Fish?”

“Swimmies.” Logan pointed to the lake, made a side to side motion with his hand, and she smiled.

“Swimmies, fish. Yes.”

“Okay. Come here,” he held out his arms. “Promise, we’ll get you some fish, let you take a bath with bubbles, get you some clean clothes, you can sleep in a nice soft bed.” Slowly, she crept forward, and Logan picked her up like a princess, leaving her hands free. “Jesus, you’re too skinny, dolly.” He turned to where Kurt stood at the edge of the forest. “Go get Chuck, Elf. I think we’re gonna need him.”

“Jawohl,” Kurt agreed. “I think you are right. Take her to the cabin, I do not wish to startle her with the noise and smell.”

“Good plan. Come on, dollface. Let’s get some food. You like chocolate? I think I got some Oreos, too,” Logan said, and began to make his way down the lake shore back to the cabin, its lights gleaming in the dark. Kurt waited until he heard the screen door slam, then

BAMF!

Jumped

BAMF!

Back to

BAMF!

The mansion, appearing in Professor X’s study. “Charles, there is -- we need you,” he said quickly to the man behind the desk.

“What is it, Kurt?” Charles asked. “Should we rally the team?”

“No. No, just you, look,” Kurt offered, and felt the slight tingle as Charles Xavier touched his mind telepathically.

“Oh my God,” the older man said softly. “They did it again.”

“I think so. And this time, they have made the gravest of mistakes; she is his soulmate, platonic, but --“

“Yes, I see. Well, if you wouldn’t mind, Kurt?” Charles asked with a wry, small smile, wheeling himself out from around his desk. With a nod, Kurt picked up the older man from the chair, and

BAMF!

Jumped again

BAMF!

Back to

BAMF!

The cabin in Saskatchewan, arriving beside the lake. “I would have jumped into the cabin, but I am afraid I will frighten her, the noise,” Kurt offered as he made his way up the shoreline path to the house.

“A very good idea. Yes, I can feel her. She is…oh, the poor child,” Charles said softly as the back door opened, Logan stepping out.

“I’m fuckin’ glad ta see ya, Chuck,” Logan said, his eyes wet. “I don’t…she’s…”

“Feral, or nearly so,” Charles agreed. “I’m already picking up on her fear, and her pleasure? She’s eating?”

“Fish, we had lots left over from dinner. Won’t touch the goddamn green beans,” Logan said, a tiny grin pulling at his whiskered face. “The hell did they do, Chuck?”

“I’m not sure yet, Logan, but I have a bad feeling,” Charles admitted as Kurt carried him in through the open door. “Easy; easy, child,” Charles said as the girl looked up from the table, and in the light…

“Gott im Himmel,” Kurt murmured, taking Charles to the couch at his gesture. She was filthy, long brown hair matted against her back, and she was desperately thin. Logan hadn’t even tried giving her silverware, her plate containing half a piece of fish yet and a handful of fried potatoes, one slice still between her fingers, hovering over a puddle of catsup as she watched them come in, scowling.

“It’s easier here than to try to sit up at the table. Thank you, Kurt.” Charles sat up, staring at the young stranger, who stared back, one claw popped in defense for a long moment before it slid back into her fist, much -- no, exactly like Logan’s. She looked around, then back at Charles, shook her head, put her fingers in her ears, took them out again.

“Most of her memories seem to be of a facility of sorts,” Charles murmured. “White coats. Metal tables. A collar around her throat, shackles on her feet. She has claws on her feet, as well. I’ll have to have Jean or Moira look at her to be sure, but I think she’s about sixteen. Perhaps a bit older. She has no name.” He winced suddenly, and shook his head before looking up at Logan. “Happy Father’s Day, Logan. She’s yours, or at least, a clone. There are memories of men talking about the original Weapon X…and what she will be capable of, since she has been created and treated differently.”

Logan’s jaw worked for a moment before he gave a sharp nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I figured when I seen her claws. And our scents are real similar.”

“Well. And you’re soulmates, Kurt said.”

“Yep.” Logan crossed his arms over his barrel chest. “You find’em, Chuck. You find’em.”

“You will not go on a suicide mission, Logan, no matter how good you think your reasons are,” Charles warned him. “She seems to be highly intelligent; she planned her escape, and she’s been living on her own, scavenging, for at least a year. I find two different sets of winter memories.”

“Jesus, tryin’ to make it on her own in the winter -- up here?”

“I’m not sure, though there is a great deal of snow. The facility was, I believe, in the desert somewhere. She escaped during a transfer. It was…a common routine, that they would transfer her from one place to another, but she was always returned to the desert.”

“Course she’s smart. She’s mine.” Logan puffed up, the epitome of a proud papa, and Kurt burst into laughter, drawing the girl’s attention.

“Lo-gan. Who?” She pointed at Kurt, then Charles. “Friend?”

“Friends, lil’ bit, even if one of’em’s a pain in the ass Elf,” Logan agreed, taking a seat at the table. “That’s Charles,” he pointed. “That’s Kurt.”

“Hello,” Charles said kindly, leaning forward as best he could. “I’m very sorry to just poke around in your head without so much as a greeting, but we need to know what’s happened to you. Tell me, would you like for us to give you a name?”

“No number, person. Lo-gan say,” she insisted, reaching and finding Logan’s big hand.

“No. You are not a number. You are a person, with a person’s rights. Let’s see. I will suggest names, and you tell me if you like them, hmm?” He asked, and she nodded. “Excellent. Jane?” She shook her head. “Hannah.” She wrinkled her nose. “Maggie? Megan? Laura?” She nodded at the last. “Laura? You like that?”

“Yes. Laura. My name Laura.”

“It’s the first syllable,” Charles said, smiling. “It sounds like --“

“Fuck,” Logan, said, shaking his head. “Yep. I get it.”

“Yes. You’re like her, and she recognizes that, and you’ve made her feel safe. I don’t think she’s ever felt safe.” Charles’ voice and face took a sympathetic tone. “Poor child.”

“She’s safe now,” Logan growled.

“So she is. But she is not safe, herself, to bring to the school. She needs to be…gently acclimated to society. Taught how to behave around others. She is rather feral.” Charles turned his attention to Kurt. “Kurt. Would you be willing to stay here and help? I may need to ask you to come and go between the mansion and here, bringing Moira or Jean out to help with checking her over, et cetera.”

“I would be glad to help,” Kurt agreed.

“Good. I’ll begin making arrangements in the morning. Would you mind taking me home for now? It’s very late in New York.”

“Not at all.”

When Kurt returned, he found Logan on the porch, beer in one hand, cigar in the other. “Where is Laura?”

“Sleepin’.” Logan took a long drink. “I’m gonna find the bastards who did this.”

“I know you are,” Kurt agreed, crouching on the porch rail, wrapping his tail around it for balance. “And I will go with you. Mein Gott.”

“Nope. You’re gonna stay behind an’ make sure she’s okay,” Logan said, looking up at him from his chair. “Done told her, Uncle Kurt, he’s an annoying brat, but he’s a good man.”

“Too kind,” Kurt chuckled. “How long do you think it will take to…” he searched for words, and Logan spoke up.

“Tame her? Dunno. But she’s smart as hell. Asked why you carried Chuck. Why you’re blue, except she didn’t say blue. She don’t even know colors, Kurt.”

“Then what did she say?”

“Asked why you were night sky man,” Logan said with a fond grin. “An’ why yer fingers an’ toes are different.”

“It will be like having a larger, smarter, easily angered toddler,” Kurt sighed. “But I am used to being around you, so it will not be so hard.”

“Ass,” Logan said, shaking his head and grinning. “We gotta do somethin’ ‘bout her hair, that’s a mess.”

“Yes. It might be easier to cut it very short, to begin with.”

“I was thinkin’ the same thing. But all that’s for tomorra, I reckon.” Logan sighed. “Fuck. I’m a daddy.”

“So you are,” Kurt agreed softly. “And you missed the diapers, yes? She is toilet trained?”

“Yep. Reckon they had one in her fuckin’ cell.”

“So. You are a daddy. And you will have the luxury of teaching her all the things about the world, Logan. Think of it that way,” Kurt offered.

“I don’t…” Logan looked down at his beer bottle. “I don’t know if I can, Elf. I ain’t exactly role model material.”

“Kitty and Jubilation would both disagree with that,” Kurt replied. “And you know I am right.”

“Yeah, but --“ Logan began, and Kurt jumped down from the porch rail, coming to stand beside his friend, laying his hand on the bulkier man’s shoulder gently.

“Nein. You are not alone in this; I am here, and I will help you. And we can and will get help from the others, as well. She is no longer alone. She has a family. You have a family. We will raise her properly and well, Logan, I know we will.”

“Yeah, well. Say a couple prayers, if’n you would. Who’s the patron saint of daddies?”

“Saint Joseph,” Kurt responded automatically. “And I will.”

“Okay.” Logan nodded with a sigh. “Okay. You’re right. We’ll…we’ll raise her right. Teach her how ta not just gut whoever pisses her off.”

“How to read, and write.”

“How ta track and hunt an’ fish.”

“How to draw? Do you think we should get crayons?”

“How to lay a trap.”

“How to use silverware.”

“Hell. We got a lot o’work ta do, Elf.” Logan shook his head. “Ain’t gonna be easy.”

“No. But things that are worth having, are worth work. And I can already tell that Laura will be worth it.” Kurt squeezed Logan’s shoulder. “You were.”

Next month: Laura’s first birthday party, and more soulmate shenanigans.

STAY TUNED, TRUE BELIEVERS!

#Logurt Challenge #@logurtproject #logurt #Kurt Wagner #Nightcrawler #X-Men #Logan #Wolverine #X-23 #Charles Xavier #90s X-men #@amusewithaview #logurt prompts 2018

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faunusrights · 5 years ago

Text

OFFAL HUNT REMASTERED LIVEBLOG // CHAPTER 15

IN THIS EPISODE OF MURPHY LOSES THEIR SHIT ON MAIN:

“Tell her I said: fuck you, you miserable, conniving bitch. I don’t answer her summons. I don’t obey her orders. I’m through. I’m through with her, with all of you—”

THERE’S LORE, BUT IMPORTANTLY MURPHY REMEMBERS WHY THEY THINK CINDER’S HOT. LITERALLY.

already??? already??? yes, already. this chapter is called ‘nothing personal’ anmd i think that this is a lie. this is abt to get very personal very quickly.

It had taken two more days for Glynda’s soul to become bearable enough for Cinder to sit next to her on a bus.

out of the funniest lines they could have used to open the chapter up, this is just Peak. there’s so many moving parts to this. glynda’s rank soul. cinder having to be nice for TWO DAYS to make her chill out. the fact they’re taking the most menial form of transport of all time. oh my god they were sat beside each other. this is already so funny.

Gravity Dust glittered like volcanic glass.

👈😎👈 we sure love volcanoes around here huh

The clearing Cinder found was some twenty minutes from where she left Glynda with instructions for something salty for her.

im almost POSITIVE im not supposed to find these lines funny but cinder you are RADIATING salt you are COMPOSED ENTIRELY of salt please. you’ve asked for smthng salty and glynda’s gonna come back announcing she’s foiled all yr plans on accident again.

Mercury had stopped sending messages a month and a half ago. Emerald’s last one was a week old.

im almost definitely mentioned it in a prior liveblog but its worth remembering: cinder’s relationship w/ merc and em rly was the deciding factor in me suddenly loving her as a character and i just. every interaction they have hurts so good. cinders got TWO kids and even if her face says otherwise she loves them very much and that heals me on the inside

“There’s no way anyone knows about this island. We’re the only ones out here. Merc and I have to get his shitty frozen pizzas airshipped in.”

“Still. Be careful.” She paused for a moment. “...Is that all he’s eating?”

“You know he’d die before he ate a vegetable.”

“He will, at this rate.”

I LOVE U MOMMA CINDER AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA this is SO good. this section HEALS ME!!!!!!!! which is good because i have a feeling the rest of this will gore me alive

"I promise. At the end of all of this, I'm coming back and I'm not leaving again. Trust me."

aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAA god u cant tell thru text alone but this section is K I L L I N G me and H E A L I N G me and also KIL L I

“It doesn’t have anything to do with trust,” Cinder said, miserably. “I need you to be safe.”

N G M E

The line between us and them had felt so concrete.

god i just. theres so much i still cant say that isnt 👈👈👈😨👈👈👈 but cinder and hati and all this other STUFF happening in the bg is so good and i just love how nuanced this dumbass is. cinder fall, the woman who never wins, and her brief moments of comfort. she is my ANGEEEEEEEEEEL

Now the only thing left was to deliver her to Atlas; if she had to speak with her more to do that, she would.

Not that she wanted to have to admit that to Hati.

cinder:there’s a lot of we and our going on and i’m a little nervous that the more we talk the more thats gonna happen and i gotta say; not a fan.

and [Glynda]’s desperate for—”

A heritage? A purpose? Belonging?

“She’s desperate,” Cinder finished, softly. Then: “She’s coming willingly.”

this might be another 👈😎👈 situation or im just drawing parallels like a three year old with a newfound ruler but HRM. CINDER. HRM.

Rather, her stomach twisted at the implications. Everything was ready. The machine worked. All that was left was to deliver the final piece.

“Okay. Good.” It was good. It was the culmination of years of work.

whats good and fun is watching cinder wrestle w/ her own humanity and its rly good because even as she tries her very best to use ppl to her own ends that pesky lil soft bitch inside makes her second guess everything and its GREAT fun. u can rly see that as soon as she spends longer than an allotted 10 minutes w/ somebody she starts being like ‘hrm. oh no’. oh cinder. u soft bitch. ilu.

The spot beneath his wing, though… Cinder folded into it as though it were meant for her, as though they were meant for each other, bodies fitted so easily. Here, safe, she closed her eyes and dreamed bleakly of the days to come.

i swear to god i cannot wait until [redacted] and [redacted] and [REDACTED] happens cause then i can lose my shit abt this ALL OVER AGAIN but for now. for now. immerse myself in cinder cuddles. im holding back but on the inside im feral

but Cinder was all calm, sliding through the trees like she belonged here. Like it was her domain by birthright.

FERAL.... FERAL!!!!!!!!!!!!

Because they were not friends, Glynda asked, “Where are we going?”

i love that glynda has to preface it like a reminder. because they were not friends. because she cannot trust winter. because she blocked oz’s number lmao. it’s great seeing how much more... clinical, i guess, glynda’s thoughts are, and it’s a great way to show the narratives differences? its GOOD is what im trying 2 say on main,

Instead, she complained, “It’s so difficult to be so wanted.”

firstly: i love cinder “i have a complaint” fall is secondly: i am going to read into this. i am going to read into this and divine a second meaning. i am reading into it.

Cinder emerged from the dark like a leviathan sloughing off a sunless sea. It rippled around her shoulders, swallowed the back of her skull, but the only sharpness to her was her smile. It was the first time Cinder had smiled since returning from her meeting with the Manticore.

oho. ohoohohohoooohohohooOUGHHOHOHO she hot. nasty mean lady big hott.

“You don’t scare me,” Glynda insisted.

“Silly you,” said Cinder. “Come on. I’ll lead.”

hohogughgohohoghgh f flirtign.......................,,,,,,,,,.,.,.,.,.,.,.

a faint light was stirring to life before her—suffusing out along Cinder’s chest and throat, spilling from her heart and out through her skin. In the beginning, it was so faint it seemed to be an illusion; but no, soon enough it was undeniable, and Glynda could even make out the rough shapes of the wall and floor.

YEEEEEEEEES i love. glowy lantern cinder. like theres a lot of fun little canons abt cinder in this fic i adore but the fact that she glows is like fuckin TOP. look at her. lil candle baby. shes like a microwave bean toy. i adore her.

She walked like a queen through her domain, seemingly irrespective of where on Remnant they were; even here, underground, in forgotten left-behind places, Cinder reigned.

god im sorry im too busy being gay to even be paying attention to anything rn i LOVE cinder to DEATH,,,,,,,,,, she knows shes the thing 2 be feared around here and its so good. i cant wait for her to open her big mouth and fuck it up again!!!

“High Leader Khan requires your presence in Mistral, Ms. Fall. She advises that you attend promptly, in order to discuss the missing members of our organization.”

A hum. Cinder said, “I don’t want to.”

GHSDFGSDFGHKJDF cinder you are. smthng else. shes just so LIKE THAT. what a great chapter for cinder this has been im SIPPIN baby

okay im doing a lot of leaping haead here and its not for lack of having anything 2 say in fact its QUITE the opposite because this whole bit is. wow. we got lore??? lore??? abt so many things??? what does any of it mean????? I AM NOT SURE BUT IM LOVIN IT (tm)

“It’s not a Semblance, idiot.” The control in Cinder’s voice was all staccato, pitching cold to inferno in an instant. “It was a gift.

okay bear with me for this JUICY LORE but i am Deeply fascinated by this section. im not gonna. say anything because idk how this is tying up yet (bear with) but HOO. HOOOOOOO. im trying to like keep grabbing sections but this whole part is SO GOOD i am loving-- like-- id have to-- TRUST ME THE OG WASNT AS SPICY AS THIS OKAY

THIS IS SO MUCH SPICER AND ITS GOOD

Cinder glowed like the magma heart of a volcano.

ITS SPICY ITS GOOD ITS 👈😍👈

im gonna have to reread this bit to get the full effect because the downside of a liveblog like this is having to stop-start but OUGHGHGHGUGHUGH THE LORE,,, THE MASKS,,, THE FANG??? also sienna dont listen 2 her baby i love u too

Cinder looked like a line to be crossed, and even though they weren’t friends—rather the opposite—Glynda found she didn’t want to cross her. Not now, when the emotion was still raw on her face.

oughgh... the vulnerability. cinder... snoft... but also angery 😔

this was SUCH a good chapter im DYING i love cinder in offal hunt to BITS and this arc is already feeding me so much good shit. fuck yea. FUCK YEA. HELL YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--

#rwby #offal hunt #liveblog #welcome to the cinder fall defence squad how may i take yr order

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