#it perfectly sets up their dynamic for the rest of the series

[potions-of-dark-devotion]

The fact that when Hermione setting Snape on fire (because she thought he was the one jinxing Harry) she was actually accidentally putting Harry’s life in danger by thwarting Snape’s counter-curse against Quirrell is THE most Golden Trio thing Ever.

[schrodingers-romy]

You Have Changed my Mind (And Put my Heart at Ease) [Togame Jo x Tomiyama Choji x Reader]

Pairing: Togame Jo x Tomiyama Choji x GN!Reader Word Count: ~1600 [Ao3 Link]

Summary: Post-Shishitoren fight, a moment between Choji and the two people closest to him

Warnings: gender-neutral reader, written with aged-up characters in mind, serious conversation sandwiched between cute banter, ambiguous relationship but they love each other

Notes: long-awaited (long-awaited by me lmao) sequel to for a minute in the sunlight. like that one, title is from djo's CHANGE. I just wanna snuggle them <3

Prev | Series Page

Choji’s eyes were luminous in the twilight. It seemed as if they were lit by a spark inside of them, rather than the faint reflected glow of the streetlights and scattered stars. His eyes were the first things you saw when you awoke, and they took your breath away. (They were bright in a way they hadn’t been in a long time.)

The three of you had moved in your sleep; you were lying wedged between a still slumbering Jo’s arm and his body as he snored into your hair, and Choji had migrated until he was lying on top of you like a weighted blanket. Unlike Jo, he was already awake, his chin resting on your chest as he blinked up at you with a soft expression.

“Good morning,” he said.

“It’s night.”

“Good night, then!” He took a deep breath, and let it out in a great big sigh, melting even further into you. Choji always was a tactile person; you hadn’t indulged in it fully in a long time. (It was a combined product of Choji getting ‘bored’ with you and Jo, and Jo keeping this newer, more callous Choji away in case he hurt you.)  But now, it was as if Umemiya had lifted his ‘curse’, and Choji was back to burrowing his small, warm body into yours like a clingy pet.

You’re determined to soak all of his affection in; basking in it like a cat in the sunlight. You knew your back would protest your sleeping position later, but you’re not moving until Choji does, and he seemed perfectly content to use you as a body pillow.

“You look better,” Choji said, completely out of the blue. You blinked at him.

“What do you mean?”

“You seem happier,” he stated. He was looking at you, but it almost felt as if he was looking through you. His eyes were still bright, but they held a seriousness you never would have seen from Choji a few years ago.

You’re saved from trying to think up a response when a sleep-thick voice from behind you interjects.

“He’s right, you know,” Jo said lackadaisically, a small, self-satisfied smirk beginning to form on his face. He twisted so his face was next to yours. “You look prettier when you’re happy.”

The blatant flirting caused your brain to short-circuit. You knew things had…changed between the two of you last night, but you didn’t expect this sort of overtness, especially in front of Choji. You didn’t even know what sort of dynamic this would create between the three of you; and part of you was worried it would cause another rift when all you wanted was to pull them both close to you. Despite your worries, you still felt giddy butterflies swirling in your stomach when Jo called you pretty.

Choji let out a squawk.

Your heart shot into your throat.

“Kame!” he cried; his face was set into a pout as he glared at Jo. He pushed himself up on his hands and stuck his face even closer to yours; so close you could see the flecks of gold in his eyes and the faint white scar on his nose. You could feel your skin heating from the proximity of both of their faces. (You were suddenly overcome with a pang of sympathy for what Sakura must go through.)

“Don’t worry,” Choji stated, staring at you intensely, but earnestly. “You were always pretty! Don’t listen to Kame, he’s being silly.”

You let out a strangled squeak.

“Tsh.” Jo reached around you to flick Choji on the nose. “I said prettier, idiot. You don’t listen.”

Another squawk out of Choji. He reached over, likely to try and start play-wrestling with Jo, but you stopped him by wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him to you in a hug.

“It’s okay, bunny,” you cooed, breaking out the old childhood nickname for Choji you hadn’t used in ages. “Thank you for trying to defend my honor from the big, mean kame.” You squeezed him as tight as you could, but he didn’t do anything other than giggle. 

“So crueeell,” Jo moaned, thunking his forehead onto your shoulder as he went limp. “Those cute faces just hide your evilness, both of you.”

You detached one arm from Choji so you could ruffle Jo’s shaggy hair. It was a frizzy, loose bedhead, but it was still soft when you ran your fingers through it. “Don’t worry Jo, we still love you, right Choji?”

“Of course!” Choji leaned forward, getting close enough to press a peck to the top of Jo’s head, making an exaggerated ‘mwah’ sound as he did so. The sight caused a burst of warm affection to shoot through you.

Jo didn’t answer, but you could feel him laughing into the crook of your neck as he nuzzled closer.

There was a moment of silence; you weren’t sure how long it lasted, but while it lasted, it was just the three of you, clinging to each other under the mixed lights of the city and the stars.

-

Choji’s voice was the one to break the peace. “I’m really sorry, y’know?”

He paused, turning so he could fix you and Jo with the full force of his wide, shining eyes. That seriousness was back, the giggling, joking Choji of a few minutes ago wiped away once more. It made him look older, and your heart briefly ached for the time you lost to Choji’s darkness. How much had he grown, while he was hidden by the shadows?

“I said sorry to Kame, but I need to tell you, too,” he said, holding your surprised gaze for a moment.

“Cho, you don’t need to—”

“Yes,” he interrupted. The force in his voice made your mouth snap shut. He sighed at this, deflating slightly, before continuing in a softer voice. “I’m so sorry. I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. Both of you look so happy now…and it made me think about how just…miserable we all were. And it was all my fault. So I’m sorry.”

He inhaled, voice shuddering. His eyes had gone glossy, and you realized that he was about to cry. “’M sorry! I mean it, I really do love you guys—” his voice cracked.

Jo reacted first, pulling Choji into a tight hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t help you.”

You could hear him sob into Jo’s shoulder, and you moved until you were plastered to Choji’s back. “And I’m sorry too, that I didn’t protect you both,” you murmured, before pressing your mouth to his temple in a firm kiss.

“We’re not mad,” Jo started.

“Well, I’m a bit mad at myself that I couldn’t help you,” you said, grimacing.

“Hush, pretty, y’know it’s not your fault,” Jo insisted.

You avoided his gaze, instead burying your face in Choji’s wild blond mane. “Either way, we don’t blame you, Choji. We just wanna be here for you.”

“And we love you too.”

“Mhmm. More than anything. Our little bunny,” you said, clutching at Jo’s shirt so you could effectively squash Choji between you both. “You’re not getting rid of us. We’re gonna right here with you. Always.”

The two of you held him until his tears stop pouring, and his breaths are even, instead of the jagged sobs of before. He pulled back from Jo’s now damp shoulder, so he could look at you both. His face was flushed and spotty, shining and slick with tears and other fluids. His eyes were puffy, but as he blinked the last of his tears away, you could see the genuine happiness reflected in them. You thought they never looked quite so beautiful.

You couldn’t resist smooching him on his cheek; it was salty, with dried tears, but just as soft as it looked. Jo, just as weak as you were, pressed a kiss to his other cheek. Not to be outdone, you gave Choji another peck, causing Jo to give one as well. It escalated until the both of you were pressing rapid-fire kisses all over Choji’s face; your antics caused him to giggle relentlessly, a sound of pure joy that made you feel giddy.

Eventually, you both slowed, kisses becoming more languid, simple brushes of both of your lips over his skin.

“What now?” you asked. The position you were slumped in was uncomfortable, but you felt secure in it.

“We take care of each other,” Jo murmured.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” said Choji, linking one of his pinkies with yours, and the other with Jo’s.

“Okay,” you breathed. “Sounds perfect.”

-

“Hey, Choji?”

“Yeah, Kame?”

“Did you know someone here got a little jealous of you and Umemiya?” he drawled.

You shot him a look, as if to say, ‘don’t you dare.’

“Why?” Choji asked, oblivious to the silent eye conversation you and Jo were having.

Jo gave you a slow, lazy smile. “It’s cause you bit him. And maybe a certain someone wanted to feel your teeth too—”

“TOGAME JO I SWEAR TO GOD!”

“—Just a little lovebite—”

Before you could try to throttle the smirking man, Choji grabbed your arm. “I’ll bite you if you want! It wasn’t a lovebite with Ume-chan, of course, but cause I love you, it would be one with you!”

You buried your face in your hands. You couldn’t take the sincere look in his eyes. Over the blood rushing in your ears, you could hear Jo laughing at you both, deep chuckles that don’t make you any less flustered.

They were lucky you loved them, you thought, as Jo gave you a gentle, apologetic kiss to the lips, and Choji, loathe to be left out, gave each of you a firm peck (with a little bit of a bite to it).

(Truly, you were lucky they loved you too.)

[banjjakz]

final girl: jjk visualkei idol!au x stan!f!reader

author's note: this is a choose-your-own-adventure PWP series. each route will have its own host of chapter-specific warnings, but some general content advisories include: obsession, stalking, elements of horror, codependent/unhealthy relationships, imbalanced power dynamics, erotic descriptions of death, etc etc please see: main menu for navigation & guide for recommended route order. enjoy ~ ^^

> main menu > guide

[PROLOGUE]

➡ GAME START

The time: three o’clock in the morning. The place: one of Kabukichou’s countless dilapidated venues. The weather: piercingly frigid, biting cold which mercilessly impales your already tumultuous gut. Those in attendance: approximately three hundred other dedicated fans, and – of course – the main act:

Shinjuku Showdown.

As an underground idol group, ShinShow makes no effort to conform to some false overly polished, perfectly airbrushed boy-group image. What sets them apart from the rest of the underground crowd is their steadfast dedication to their unique concept: jujutsu sorcery.

Allegedly, all members of ShinShow are reincarnated sorcerers from various eras in Japanese history, reborn to entrance thousands with the preternatural capabilities of their musical talent. In this lifetime, they manipulate the cosmos not with mudras, but with peerless performances.

Many so-called stans claim to know their lore inside out; you, however, pride yourself on being a part of the slim majority of the fanbase who has walked with the members since the beginning. You were a fan of each individual member while they were preoccupied in other idol activities before eventually joining together to create ShinShow. This, you are convinced, sets you apart from the swathe of fresh blood clogging up the congested standing pit. Everyone loiters in one single cesspool of quivering, fanatic anticipation. You bet many others feel like prey, yearning to be caught in the captivating gaze of their preferred member. But you’re different. You aren’t prey.

After years of unwavering support including (but certainly not limited to): countless hours spent digitally streaming; months’ worth of paychecks devoted to VVVVVVVVIP Access Packages, pre-releases, physical albums, official merch; and premium music subscription services, you consider yourself the exact opposite of a creature lying in wait, ready to be devoured.

No, you are the one who does the devouring.

Consuming ShinShow content is the closest you have ever come in your miserable life to satiating the empty void weighing you down, siphoning the sleep out of your nights, rendering your few non-work-related phone calls devoid of any real meaning.

Walking with ShinShow has brought you to a new, enlightened state of being. You are cleansed anew each time you have the privilege of breathing in the same atmosphere into which they perspire, passionately entangled in the performance of their morose melodies. Screaming fan chants until your throat bleeds and pricking yourself with arts and crafts supplies in the effort to make your own cheering uchiwa are essential sources from which you derive a tenuous – but nonetheless persistent – will to live.

Supporting ShinShow has become a devotional act. And you are, if nothing else, devout.

Up above head, the house lights are snuffed into nonexistence. An impenetrable darkness asphyxiates all sense of vision and a charged murmur sweeps through the venue. Excitement runs rampant like an epidemic, spreading from phone charm to deco’d polaroid holder to custom-made fan slogan.

It’s time.

As always, you hear them before you see them: the isolated, mournful wailing of an electric guitar echoes throughout the atmosphere, seemingly pulling a shroud over the crowd and commandeering the entirety of your attention to the mysteriously black stage. Soon to follow are the crashing of symbols, the striking of drums, the unnerving thrum of that otherworldly bassline, and last, but certainly not least, the main vocal’s banshee-like shriek.

The show is absolutely charged with some sort of intoxicating misery. This is why you love them above all others – the unique, dreadful energy that pools wherever ShinShow performs is a testament to their unmatched skills as entertainers.

Even in the midst of a taxing live show, there is not a crack in the façade, not a chink in the armor. The drummer, despite pounding away with reckless abandon, displays an unshakable poker face of utter apathy, which would be made somewhat less terrifying if he didn’t have on his usual corpse paint: a white face, powdered and even like a geisha, bisected at the middle with a harsh black line cutting neatly from cheekbone to cheekbone. Even when shouting some of the raunchier, more aggrieved lyrics, his black-painted lips curl rather cutely around the vulgar vowels.

Just as dedicated to his craft, the bassist plucks out morose notes with limp hands and cold eyes, moving his body as a medical examiner might manipulate a cadaver’s stiff limbs. He’s got lanky, black hair with parted bangs brushing his impossibly long, doll-like lashes. Despite his pretty looks, he appears ultimately ghoulish, with a wan complexion, sunken cheekbones, and lips perpetually bitten raw. This is not to say he doesn’t get excited while performing – because he absolutely does! But when he moves, it is with a disconcerting preternatural speed. Is it truly the adrenaline rush of a live performance that moves him? Or does something else entirely occupy his svelte, hollow carcass?

Not to be outdone, the lead singer inspires as much awe as he does fear in the hearts of his catatonic, reverential fans. In stark contrast to his easygoing off-stage countenance, his on-stage persona lets his hair loose. Literally. A smooth, unbroken cascade of obsidian drapes his well-toned form from the crown of his head to the small of his back. Many of his female fans are envious of his well-maintained locks, and rant about this very grievance in pages and pages of obsessive online ramblings. With tastefully gauged lobes, a spear of shocking silver speared through his tongue, and swirls of ink lining the ribbed midsection of his throat, the band’s front man is an unapologetically alternative heartthrob. When he sings, it sounds like he’s trying to resurrect something long dead and gone through sheer force of will. How anything alive or otherwise could resist his siren’s call is an eternal mystery.

And last, but certainly not least, there is the guitarist, who stands a full head taller than the rest of his bandmates and at least twice as wide. What he lacks in the conventionally attractive, youthful bishounen image of most male idols, he makes up for with a physique gifted from above (or below?) itself. His muscles ripple, glistening with sweat and the remnants of many upended water bottles, as he shreds his strings and whips his unruly pink hair in all-consuming, passionate fervor. Out of all the members, he must be the most unapproachable – after all, his concept is that he’s an epochs-old evil curse who used to eat women and children for fun!  If it weren’t for his washboard abs and de facto stage outfits of open-faced robes and shredded T-shirts, you wonder how many fans he would have left to claim.

Before you know it, the performance draws to a close just as suddenly as it had spontaneously combusted into existence! During the final speaking mention, one of the members wields some lethal fan-service: some fan had thrown a pair of fox ears onto the stage. When he decided to not only put them on, but to pose with cute foxlike mannerisms, the gap moe is too much for the audience to handle. The crowd surges forward, and with a complete lack of any kind of barrier or barricade (this is Kabukichou, after all) you are sent flying into the alarmingly solid, wide, warm chest of the imposing security guard. He looks down at you from the tall bridge of his nose, wordlessly impassive save for the slight quirk of amusement that twists his scarred lips. Beefy arms stabilize you, dispelling your disorientation. Each of his large hands respectively span nearly the entire width of your upper arm. Wow. Sure, he looks well into his forties, but you think he could definitely have a shot as some niche-market idol. He’s even got dark fringe and a sharp jawline! The wrinkles aren’t too bad, either…. if you squint, he’s kinda…

Ahh, you have to pull yourself together! Making goo-goo eyes at this random stranger will ruin your chances at catching the encore. Hurriedly, you (not so) politely squirm your way back into the crowd front, a (not so) respectful distance away from the edge of the stage.

As the final chords fade out into the tepid night, you blink back tears of shock. While it is not unusual for you to be moved to weeping at a ShinShow gig, something about tonight feels markedly different. Is it just you, or were several of the members meeting your eye? Each song in the set saw a moment of charged intensity between either the drummer, the bassist, the lead singer, or the guitarist. In every instance, you flushed red-hot with disbelief, with wanton ecstasy at the thought that you were a passing object in their distracted, roaming gaze. The thought is enough to make you more than a little weak in the knees.

Shaking your head, you are forcibly evicted from your reverie when the house lights surge back to life. The show is over. The music is gone. The members have finally retreated backstage. Some audience members file out of the main exit, while others linger behind in naïve hopes of catching just one more glimpse.

What will you do?

➡ Loiter behind the venue.

➡ Sneak backstage.

[deakyjoe]

Somebody’s Watching Me Part 12

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (“Sarge”, she/her, British, backstory)

Category: coworkers to friends to lovers with grumpy x sunshine dynamic/idiots in love

Summary: Can the two of you fix the damage that has been done? Or is it too late?

Warnings: angst, fluff, talks of injuries, British slang/terminology, strong language, mask is off

Word count: 1.4k (a baby in comparison to other parts)

A/N: Took a break from writing this series, mostly because I was burned out and had lots of uni work to be doing, but also because I needed time to think the ending through to give you all the best of what I’m capable of. It’s not as long as other parts but I feared that if I didn’t write it now then I would never write it. It’s pretty much where I always intended the story to go, just with a lot less conversation than originally planned. There will still be an epilogue after this but for now… enjoy!

When Ghost awoke, blinded by fluorescent hospital lights, and he saw Price standing at the foot of his bed with a deep-set frown... well, he knew things weren't good. It didn't help that you were nowhere to be seen. He didn't expect you to be fawning over him and nursing him back to health or anything. But no trace of you in the hospital room at all was not an encouraging sight.

"Am I dead?" Simon said gruffly, immediately coughing as his lungs clearly had something wrong with them.

Price scoffed. "You wish."

"Damn." He attempted to sit up straight, groaning when pain stabbed through his torso. "Ah, what the fuck?"

"I'd be careful if I were you. You were shot. Several times."

"Nothing new then." He sighed and looked at Price again, a grave look crossing his face. "Where is she?"

The captain hesitated for a moment before replying. "Home."

Shit, that definitely wasn't good.

"Why?" Simon didn't really want to know, too scared of the truth, but he needed to know.

"She was severely injured. Needed better medical attention than we could give her and then some time off once she recovers. She's home now but still in remission." Price checked his watch quickly, clearing his throat when he saw the time.

"Got somewhere to be?" Ghost asked, a sarcastic inflection in his voice.

The captain nodded. "Yes, actually. Already late from waiting for your lazy arse to wake up."

He only grunted in reply and waved his superior out of the room. "Go. I'll be fine.”

"You can go home to her once you've healed a bit more. For now, rest." And with that, Price walked out of the room leaving Simon in silence.

It was okay. He liked silence. Well, more he liked the lack of talking. People talked far too much about insignificant things. Strangely, he missed the sound of your voice chattering about insignificant things. He pushed that thought away and attempted to sleep for a while.

At home, in your flat, you were sick of friends coming over to visit you. Each one seemed to have some form of baked good or casserole and your refrigerator was full to the brim already. You hadn't even been home that long.

The sheer mass of people doting over you was becoming overwhelming in the most annoying way possible. You didn't need them constantly caring for you. Sure, the sentiment was nice enough but you were used to looking after yourself and healing independently. Usually you did it in the (un)comfort of a military hospital or medical tent. Unfortunately for you, you'd been sent home this time and had had no choice in informing your friends of your sudden return back. They just suddenly knew you were there and they were more than willing to help.

"I don't need you to give me a sponge bath." You'd told one with a roll of your eyes, still thinking about earlier in the day when you'd had to tell another that it was perfectly fine for you to drink apple juice and not stick to a strict diet of water.

Honestly, a part of you was enjoying being at home and having time to relax. Even though the cause of it was a little extreme, being able to sit on your sofa all day and watch reruns of old sitcoms as you made your way through every dish stacked in your fridge was nice. Almost... fun.

A part of you longed for something though. Simon. Obviously him. You craved to know how he was doing. When you'd first woken up, a nurse had simply told that he was alive and nothing else. Alive meant nothing. You didn't even know if his condition was stable.

You were worried, to say the least. And even Price wasn't willing to divulge any further information when you'd pressed him for it over the phone. He'd just mumbled something vague and moved on to asking you how you were doing.

It was frustrating. That was for sure.

The days passed and you grew restless, itching to get out of the house again. But you were sensible and followed the suggested instructions from the several doctors that had all agreed that you needed in order to heal properly. It was just a shame that it took so long to happen.

On day, what felt like, one billion of staying at home, there was a knock at the door. And after you'd taken a minute or two shuffling towards it, shouting out a stream of reassurances that you were on your way, you were utterly shocked to find your lieutenant on the doorstep.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times before a ridiculous sentiment left your mouth.

"Jesus, is this like those hallucinations you get just before dying?"

Simon said nothing, just the twitch of the corner of his mouth indicated that he had even heard you, and outstretched his fist to you.

In his hand, was an apple.

Specifically, one of the good apples from the farmers' market.

You looked up at him in confusion.

"Peace offering."

That explained it. So, you took it from him and opened the door wider to let him in. You weren't about to turn down a good apple or a peace offering.

Once you'd both settled yourselves into comfortable positions on the sofa, you wincing a few times and growing jealous that he seemed to have healed so quickly, you really took your time to look at him.

You tilted your head to the side and raked your eyes over him. "You're nervous."

"Am I?" His eyebrows raised a fraction.

"Yes." You nodded.

"How can you tell?"

"You scratch at the scars on your face when something is making you anxious."

"Hm." His eyes squinted at that observation, obviously not previously aware that he had that tell.

You moved on, not willing to dwell on that. "Why are you here?"

"Visiting an old friend."

You laughed sarcastically. "Oh, really?"

He shrugged, still as frustrating as ever. "You should've left me behind."

You'd be shocked if he hadn't been so self-sacrificial in previous times.

"Why would I do that?" You asked, lacing your voice with a mock innocent tone.

"Would've been the smart decision." He snapped.

So you shot right back. "Maybe I'm not smart."

"Yes, you are. You're just stubborn."

The words he'd once told you came tumbling out of your mouth. "A stubborn brat you mean?"

"That too."

You laughed again, shaking your head in disbelief. "You're right. I am stubborn. And I couldn't let you die. The idea of you... I can't stand it. So I let you live for selfish reasons. Alright?"

"You should have let me die."

"Shut up, Simon. That was never going to happen." You rolled your eyes at him and grit your teeth when a shooting pain stabbed through your side as you adjusted your position on the sofa.

Simon's hands raised for a second as if about to help you before he lowered them again.

Instead, he asked a question.

"Why not?"

You looked at him to see if he was being serious. He was.

"You know why."

"Maybe I don't."

You sighed. He was so difficult sometimes. Yet, you gave in.

"I..." You trailed off into thought.

But Simon wasn't going to let it go so easily. "You what?"

"I, y'know, I feel..." Your hands waved around as if hoping to grip a coherent answer from the air.

"Feel what?" The slight raise of an eyebrow hinted that he knew exactly what you wanted to say.

You sighed in defeat. "You know what I'm trying to get across here, Simon."

"I want to hear you say it."

"I feel for you. Have feelings. More than platonic. I... care... for you." You cringed at your own clumsiness, wondering when you'd lost your ability to fully communicate with words.

"I know."

You punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Cocky shit."

"I also care for you."

"I know." You scoffed teasingly.

He just repeated your words back to you. "Cocky shit."

The smiles that broke out across both of your faces were indescribable.

Yeah, the two of you were being slightly more awkward about this than usual but it was never going to be easy to just jump right back in to what you used to have. Smaller steps would have to be taken. And you were fine with that. As was he. You’d get there eventually, it was only a matter of time. After all, some things were just meant to happen.

A/N: Thank you all so much for sticking with me through my hiatus! I’m sorry this is a quick resolution but the epilogue is still on the way.

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

PWP Recs

Sometimes you just want to get to the point. Twenty-four recs under the cut - comment and kudos if you like them!

Spell Slut by First_Mate (10627, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: fisting :)

Series of one-shots: Essek takes his due payments from Caleb for the favours he did for the Might Nein and uses the opportunity to run some experiments.

Reccer says: If you like your Essek woobification-free, and especially if you like possessek (possessive Essek), this is a real treat!

Caught In Your Undertow by MoonwalkingCrab (13647, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Set in a vague alternate timeline after episode 107, Caleb is lost in his thoughts on a quiet evening when Essek comes to visit.

Reccer says: Is there anything better than porn with feelings? Because it is very porn and there are many feelings.

A Favor In Kind by literalfuckinggarbage (4208, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Yussa spends an evening in Widogast's Nascent Nein Sided Tower alongside Essek, and they discuss with Caleb the repayment of favors.

Reccer says: Caleb deserves to get got by two powerful elven mages at one time! Representation of a trans man who’s had the full package done

Somewhere Only We Know by DotyTakeThisDown (3803, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb and Essek, now married, meet in a demiplane created just for them.

Reccer says: It’s sweet, hot, and optimistic, just lovely really!

a hearth to your hold by renquise (5538, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek had been gone a while. The two are happy to be reunited and have sex about it.

Reccer says: It has so many feelings packed in to wonderful porn! So tender! and A+ use of mage hand, of course

put your sweet lips on my lips by LadyOrpheus (15750, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Omegaverse

Heat fic without the alpha/omega aspect, just good old drow biology

Reccer says: Very interesting take on heat fic. Also extremely sexy.

where's the point in hurrying (when waiting feels so great) by mllekurtz (4438, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

"You weren’t paying attention." That was Essek’s justification, delivered in a perfectly even and reasonable tone, when he entered Caleb’s study for the second time that evening, wearing nothing but jewellery.

Reccer says: Love love love their whole dynamic! They feel so in character and are very sexy about it.

warm inside (with) you by flammablehat (2023, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Dubcon/Consensual Non Consent

Essek is sleepy. Caleb is horny

Reccer says: Both soft and sexy! Its obvious they care for eachother and sleepy sex is a fav of mine.

a question of luck by renquise (4847, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

After a night out, Caleb is desperate to express just how much he's attracted to Essek

Reccer says: Another sexy one! Love how pieces of their relationship are shown, along with their care for eachother.

Genre Studies by AnaliseGrey (3959, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

“I suppose you're going to tell me this isn't what it looks like?” “Nein, it is exactly what it looks like.” and what it looks like is tentacles.

Reccer says: Love Caleb being 100% down to explore Essek's kinks!

The Climax by Checkhov (4640, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

After their climb up an anti-magic tower and their endless teasing, the wizards decide to take a long rest in the stairwell. Essek endeavours to make this a peaceful night and fails spectacularly.

Reccer says: I couldn’t have asked for a better endcap for this series! From mutual pining to mutual masturbation, chef’s kiss

Mitosis by queenbeetle (4325, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

Similacrum enables many Calebs to play with a single Essek

Reccer says: Scorching hot! Overwhelmed Essek is always wonderful.

Struggle by measuringtheabyss (2880, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek ties Caleb up, edges him, then forces him to come three times in rapid succession until he's screaming and crying. Caleb has a *great* time.

Reccer says: Short and sweet. If you're a fan of forced orgasms and/or overstimulation, then this fic is for you.

shrimp vision by Nevenne (3202, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

In earlier editions of D&D, instead of darkvision, drow had infrared vision, meaning they could see heat. This is about what might happen between Caleb and Essek if the latter could see the former’s, um, warm spots.

Reccer says: Xenobiology, Caleb is a horny little shit, Essek is very done, and Caleb bottoms. What more could you ask for?

i’m the powder, you’re the fuse (just add some friction) by bloodredribbon (7747, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek is prim and proper and neat as a pin. Caleb is a messy gremlin and a brat, and it’s kinda turning Essek on.

Reccer says: I love it when Bratleb fucks around and finds out! Frankly, so do Caleb and Essek both. Excellent magical bondage and brat taming here.

something beautiful, a contradiction by bloodredribbon (2514, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb is really into Essek's makeup.

Reccer says: I liked it!

Caleb Kind Of Fucks Up by im_sorry_dont_judge_me (9213, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb misses Essek. Essek calls and has terrible (or maybe great) timing.

Reccer says: I really love accidental voyeurism PWP and this has got to be my favorite of the trope!

Artificer Devices from Late-Period Aeor: An Experimental Interpretation from Arcane Reconstruction to Functionality (E. Thelyss, C. Widogast) by renquise (5858, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb replicates an Aeorian fuch-machine for Essek

Reccer says: Super hot, and their care for each other is obvious.

Sweet Desecration by witches_chant (3061, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek ties Caleb up and challenges him to be good to get his reward.

Reccer says: It's so well written, it feels poetic.

open up the deepness (Essek on the beach) by lakrisrot (10599, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek enjoys a bunch of beach days and gets very horny about it.

Reccer says: This is one of my absolute favorites, it's so beautifully written, the characterization is on point and it's a lot of fun - even on the 10th re-read.

for you it could be anything by nox_nocturnal (1614, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb is too attracted to his partner for them to even make it out of the kitchen

Reccer says: They're so in love! The characterization is wonderful, as is the sex

Soup Powered Fuck Machine by VexedVixen (4388, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb makes Essek his favorite soup. Essek rewards him.

Reccer says: Dirty talk and praise kink, yes please! Does the meme justice lol

Hold Fast by Anonymous (3059, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Bondage, Spanking

Caleb endures the best, worst predicament bondage, while trying to be quiet.

Reccer says: The word "hot" doesn't do this fic justice but it is indeed smoking hot.

i still worship the flame by dreadelion (4820, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek experiments with shibari on caleb.

Reccer says: Wonderful fic inspired by wonderful art.

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with Lifespan Angst Solutions!

[ripplestitchskein]

I just saw the funniest thing about Stolitz and it really reinforced my belief that people just cannot handle the long period between episodes indie animation requires. They just cannot make connections for that long and their own personal expectations and imaginings of what it should be have too much time to percolate. As a recent comer to the HB fandom who watched the entirety of the series in a single afternoon and skipped the Pilot because it’s not canon I am having a completely different experience. I attribute this mostly to the Pilot, as that seems to have colored peoples opinions of Stolas and subsequently Stolitz in such a wild way and they had to sit with that characterization for so long they just cannot fathom that the story is playing out much differently than the Pilot set up. And yes a year is a long time to sit with expectations of a show direction and a characterization I won’t fault them for that.

“They turned Stolas into sad clown boy”. “The show is all about Stolitz relationship drama now”.

Did we watch the same Season 1, Episode 2? Because our first “real” introduction to Stolas is immediately good dad, sad owl boy, relationship with Blitzo. The first episode sets up the current state of the Blitzø/Stolas relationship, sets up the business and overall character dynamics but doesn’t really give us any information on their backgrounds or current emotional states. It hints at a few things coming up, a few things to look into further but nothing beyond surface level. As you’d expect from a first episode. The 2nd episode shows us that some major things were gonna be exploring are Blitzo and Stolas, Stolas and his family situation, Blitzo’s history as a clown and why he hates Fizzarolli bot so much, the Moxxie/Millie dynamic and brief brushings on Loona and how Blitzo interacts with his employees, but I’d say we actually get more information on Stolas and Stolitz earlier on in the show than we do anything else. It was setup from the beginning that these were all major premises we were going to explore and….WE DO. We start the season that way. We end the season a little further down the road but still focusing on those basic things setup in the first two episodes.

I see a lot of criticisms of the writing but from my perspective, watching them all in a row the writing is pretty spot on in terms of set up, change, payoff. And the structure is exactly what we expect for a multi season show. They introduce Stolitz at one point in their relationship in S1 Ep 1, and by Ozzie’s we have a very clear change that was progressed through the other episodes of the season. That same narrative thread, introduced at the beginning of the show is carried through into S2 and the underpinnings of reactions we saw in S1 episodes 1 and 2 are revealed throughout, we now see why Stolas and Blitzø react the way they did in S1Ep1 via the storytelling in S2Ep1 and the structure of those two being the first episodes of their respective seasons is exactly what a writer should do. They feed into each other perfectly. A person watching only those two episodes would have no trouble filling in the rest of the seasons or the story at large and that’s exactly what a serialized writer should do. The show didn’t change anything midstream, it didn’t shift plot points, it very clearly setup these pins to knock them down as we go on. Fizzarolli backstory? Done. Blitzo’s relationship with Millie and Moxie had several episodes of exploration, we see a bit more about Loona and Blitzo and Stolas’s marriage drama is the main catalyst for overall big drama and they are exactly where they should be if you are plotting this out using a three act structure for a television format.

Things are REVEALED they aren’t changed, and while real life concerns and schedules and business things do affect how episodes get released or how things play out or which characters are available to appear, not knowing any of that background until AFTER I had already watched the show I’d say the writers are doing a pretty remarkable job keeping the flow, of developing the characters and relationships and paying off what they setup waaay at the beginning 3 years ago when they released eps 1 and 2. They’ve also done a great job of giving every character a little moment to shine even though, as they established in episodes 1 and 2, the main focus is on Blitzø, Stolas and how their relationship is the catalyst for everything. That it’s why I.M.P does what it does.

I highly suggest people watch it from start to finish without the Pilot, or at least just the first two episodes and S2 Ep 1 and take into account what is shown and setup at the very start versus the story we are currently at and I really think it will show that nothing has changed, the story is progressing as it should, at the pace it should, and that the characters are growing and changing as they should based on the things that have occurred.

[highlordofkrypton]

SUMMARY

The two strongest High Lords in Prythian are rarely in the same place at once, and when they are, they stay away from each other. When High Lord Celyddon and High Lord Sieffre arrive for the Autumn Equinox, young Beron Vanserra sees an opportunity to learn (or blackmail) greatness. He wants to be like them one day, but until then, he will do anything to get close to them. TL;DR - We all know getting topped would fix Beron, but what if it made him worse.

CHARACTERS: Beron Vanserra, Tamlin's Father and Rhysand's Father

AUTHOR'S NOTES

The first chapter of this fic is for @sjmvillainweek and focuses on Beron, and the two other High Lord's dynamics "Behind Closed Doors" leading up to the smut but there is technically no smut yet. The following two will be pure Kinktober. The tags will be added as the chapters go up!

TW: Blood, Violent Foreplay

READ BELOW THE CUT OR ON AO3.

“Ber, are you ready? ” The sigh from the other side of the wooden door is exasperated. “You’re going to be late! You know High Lord Sieffre never stays long. You’ll miss him.”

He looks himself in the mirror for another several minutes, adjusting his gemmed collar and his perfectly tailored coat. His shoulders have finally filled out after decades, and he swears he’s grown taller now. The notches are on the inside of the frame, and he can’t get to them to check without alerting his sister to his worries. She’ll go away sooner or later. The last thing he needs is her snooping.

His hair is tufts of close cropped auburn curls, dark red wine just like the rest of his family. He runs his pale fingers through them. I should cut it. He is not a child anymore, nearing his second century and still, the Courts won’t take him seriously. It’s hard to shine in his father’s shadow. His tail sways lazily behind him, rubies tucked into the fur and gold rings encircling the tip.

“Beeeeeeer, hurry up,” she complains in their autumnal tongue.

“Just fucking go!” Beron snaps in return.

The Fall faerie doesn’t need to see her to know that she rolls her eyes, mutters something twenty-shades of rude before storming on her way. Beatriz doesn’t have to worry. Not like he does. She has truly grown into her beauty, like when the trees that line Spring bleed into Autumn, their leaves maturing and taking on a certain richness. He’d watched her perfect her enchantments leading up to the Equinox, how to set her hair aflame without drawing directly on her magic. All eyes will be on her tonight, and he simply cannot allow that.

Beron loves her, he truly does. They were born from the same bud, but only one of them will ascend to the seat of High lord and it will not be her. Despite all beauty and showmanship, he must learn to command a room with his sheer presence.

Maybe I should grow a beard.

His reflection in the mirror quivers at the thought, and the ground beneath his feet follows. The distant sound of trees cracking and shifting, great oaks stepping aside for something greater. Beron abandons all thought, rushing to his window. The skies have begun to darken, like a storm coming, but there are no clouds. Rather, a tapestry of night crawls across his view, defying the day.

They’re coming. At the same time.

The flame in his chest flutters, kindled at the thought of entertaining both of them at once. Spring and Night—new life, and eternal darkness—always at odds, even with the passing of power. Even in the same room, they repel one another, keeping to edges and enemies, never overlapping. 

High Lord Celyddon arrives from the west, mounted upon a great elk. Emerald fabrics cascade off his shoulders, a dark canvas upon which his deep golden hair rests. Atop his head, laurels held together with gold sits between his curved horns. Beron has only ever seen him radiate power. Even in his approach, the ground seems to move instead of him, as if it doesn’t dare ask its King to waste any effort. His entourage follows him, dwarfed by the sheer regality of Spring’s chosen one.

What would I do? If I had to face him? Fire does not burn stone.

The young Lord’s mind is always calculating, preparing for his ascension. It will happen, sooner rather than later, Beron just needs to bide his time and wait for the right moment. Until then, he entertains the fantasy of standing on the same dais as the other High Lords—of speaking to them as equals and then, surpassing them. The thought has him biting his lip, hiding the smile creeping onto his face. Eagerness is good. It is necessary. Power requires hunger, and Beron finds himself starving.

To the North, the star-kissed king soars. He has no wings, unlike the barbarians that live in his lands, but the skies have deemed him worthy of being close to their gods. They carry him from Night to Autumn, like a comet dancing against the darkness. He spirals down towards the leaf-covered ground, his body enveloped in dark smoke. When he lands, it rolls off him, like a hungering cloak, looking to swallow the closest living soul. High Lord Sieffre arrives alone—always alone.

Beron knows that the Night Court boasts the largest military in Prythian, and he cannot help but think there is nothing else but Darkbringers and Illyrian warriors. He has never seen the High Lord take interest in anyone; Sieffre’s presence is transactional and scarce, at best. His absence is ignored, but his presence—oh, his presence is a sight to behold.

Violet eyes flick up towards his bedroom window, and Beron steps back into the shadows. Fuck. Children are not meant to be heard or seen, but he is not a child anymore. He is too damned used to the crushing weight of his father’s disdain, he forgets what it means to claim a seat at the Lord’s table. Beron watches the Lord of Nightmares, realizing that the shadows do the opposite in the face of this faerie. They make him easier to perceive. 

Sieffre’s face is made of porcelain, delicate and flawless—not a single scar or blemish, not even the grace of freckles or beauty marks—save for the purple spider of veins beneath his skin. His pallor surpasses that of the Autumn Court in leagues, so white his skin seems… translucent, and yet… and it does not take away from his beauty. His raven hair falls in waves, blending into his dark attire. He’s perfect.

The two of them, Spring and Night, are the closest thing to male divinity on this mortal plane.

His father would have his tongue for that thought, and Beron finds that he doesn’t care very much. He’ll die. Sooner than these two Lords before him.

Their eyes meet, down in the courtyard, emerald against violet, and Beron watches them carefully. His breath catches, eager to see if he will be privy to a single moment of interaction between them. It will be his precious secret, shared with them. He is a part of this moment. The High Lord of Spring dismounts, and his entourage follows suit. Beside his Great Elk, a smaller white stag carries a fail-looking Lady. Attendants help his wife down, and she takes her place beside him. Celyddon engulfs the nape of her neck with his immense hand; one wrong move, and he could snap it out of sheer entertainment. He tilts her head up forcefully, and tears a kiss from her lips, all while mocking the Night with his eyes.

The Lady of Spring simply stands there, taking what’s given—a passive tool. To stand by his side is to revel in his power, and were it Beron—

He bites his tongue. Lady Margret is his mate, a title that stands above all, except for that of a High Lord. He must tread carefully with his disdain, lest Celyddon have his tongue for the indiscretion. Mates are a fairy tale, a political ruse, he’s sure of it. A stupid ruse that binds them to weakness. What good are females, aside from their child-bearing hips? The males carry power, and were it up to him, he wouldn’t bother with the risk of power passing to the lesser sex.

No, no, were it him —whether Spring, Autumn of Night—he would elevate them to new heights. They would have to carry the burden of power alone, he would alleviate them of their woes. All they need is to choose him. His fists clench around the unspoken desire, and it tightens until the thought is gone.

High Lord Sieffre simply glances away, no additional moment wasted on the show Celyddon has put on for all Prythian, and disappears inside Beron’s home. 

Beron doesn’t wait; he’s late.

***

The Equinox celebration is dizzying. Beron is sent to and fro, attending to his father’s demand of a good impression. He talks up the wives of Day, pours spiced wine for the Summer delegate and pretends to care about Dawn’s famed Tinkerer with his useless inventions. What is the use of machinery when magic exists? All he hears are crutches fabricated for the weak.

His sister has it easier, twirling in her ember dress that lights up with the proper partner. High Lord Sieffre’s impassive face never changes, even as he leads her with graceful expertise. Beatriz knows exactly when to laugh, and chooses all the perfect moments to run her fingers across his broad shoulders, or tighten her hold on his arm. Her warm brown eyes flicker to Beron’s, a perfect mirror to his. When they were young, their father couldn’t tell them apart, and they’d play tricks, letting the other take the beating on the other’s behalf. 

She smiles, and his coiled tail tightens around his waist. He needs to get better at hiding his emotions, at least until he can divest himself of them completely, just like Sieffre. He’ll take all the pieces from stronger lords, and rebuild himself not in their image, but as their better.

“Beron,” his father’s voice rumbles, and Beron straightens his spine.

“Yes, father.”

“Summon, Sieffre to my study. I wish to speak to him.”

“Yes, father.”

There can only be one reason why his father would want a private discussion with the Lord of Night. Beatriz is of marrying age, still ripe, but not too young that she is a burden to her husband. High Lord Sieffre would be honoured to have someone with a flame as bright as hers, but… the love for his sister does nothing to temper his anger. When she leaves, what will he have? Nothing but a long con without the support of his twin. How dare she move on without him; their paths must branch at the same time.

Beron worries at his lip, his emotions spilling onto his face rather than his tail. Her ambition will get her killed. Father has allowed her to want more than her station. He should have been first, if only to remind Beatriz where she belongs.

He approaches his sister and the beautiful Lord. “My Lord, my father requests an audience with you. I will escort you to his study.”

Even with his eyes downcast, he can feel the weight of Sieffre’s attention on him. A shiver snakes down his spine, and he thinks nothing except hiding his eagerness. He wants more, but he is a loyal son and attends to his task.

“Very well,” answers Sieffre, his voice smooth as silk in his ears.

“I’ll join you,” Beatriz smiles at her brother, hooking her arm around Sieffre’s.

“Father did not ask for you.”

“Fortunately for you, I know where I am needed.” She tips her head. “And wanted.”

“Hasn’t anyone told you to stop listening to the voices? They aren’t real, Bea.”

If the High Lord is put off by their rivalry, he doesn’t show it. He has never s shown interest in anything. If Beatriz thinks their little dance means anything, that’s her own fault. Everything High lord Sieffre does is transactional. His attendance requires him to pay attention to her, nothing more and nothing less.

His sister talks the entire way through the Forest House, recounting its history and sparkling interesting tidbits about herself. Beatriz is smarter than most females, making sure that anything High Lord Sieffre learns about her is impressive, clever or a display of her skill. He doesn’t seem to care, and yet that does not deter her. Beron falls in step with her while leading them, amending her embellishments to include himself. The charm that has her beautiful crimson hair glowing at its tip was only finished because of him. The two of them push and pull, subtly vying for the High Lord’s attention, but Sieffre does not look at them again.

They arrive at his father’s study, and Beron announces High Lord Sieffre’s arrival. He steps aside, letting the impossibly tall high faerie past him.

“Bea,” he hisses, as she breezes into the room as well. Beatriz winks at him, then gives him a look that’s meant to reassure him. She knows what she’s doing, but he thinks she is treading a very fine line that her father would not enjoy. Beron may compete with her, but he does not wish her harm.

“You may leave, Beron.” His father drones.

The last time he’d argued against his father, the High Lord of Autumn had smacked his mouth so hard, he’d lost a tooth. It has since grown, and Beron has since learned. He nods, pulling the door shut behind him. Beatriz wiggles her fingers at him, and he bares his teeth at her. Fucking bitch.

Voices slip beneath the door, muffled by magic. Beron has long learned not to listen for words, but for tone. He leans against the wall, battling between anger and curiosity. How can he find the upper hand? Which part of his father should he twist to make him yield under his will? Could he find something on Sieffre ?

He hears nothing from the Night, only the drone of his father, and the soft song of his sister’s voice when she wants something. The discussion bounces between even-keeled and slowly builds into his father’s anger. His father’s voice booms, rattling the house, and heat seeps from the room. Palms presses against the wall, Beron can gauge the exact level of disrespect his father has experienced. Too much, but not enough to start a fight.

Even father knows when he’s outclassed, he smiles to himself.

The door opens, and Beron adjusts his posture. “Good evening,” he mumbles under his breath. Beatriz was right. High Lord Sieffre never stays long.

Beron waits a moment, then darts down a different hallway while his sister manages their father’s temper. He slips into a hidden passage, steps that deposit him directly at the foot of the Forest House. It would take Sieffre twice the time to follow the formal pathway out the House, and down the winding steps. Enemies can winnow into their territory, the problem is getting out.

He pushes the entrance open ever so slightly, peering through a crack in the stone wall.

“Aw, look who’s got his feelings hurt.” The deep baritone of Celyddon’s voice carries easily across the courtyard. He exhales a thick waft of green smoke out the corner of his mouth, and takes a drag of his cigar. “You should be happy, See. Someone wants you. You should take what you can get.”

This— this is the private interaction Beron wants to see. He hopes secrets will be spilled for him to gobble up greedily.

The High Lord of Night does not rise to the bait; he is truly a wonder, not even to waver in the face of Celyddon. He simply carries on, storming past Spring’s mocking perch, towards the edge of the grounds where he can winnow for freedom. Beron expects more mockery, and he blinks several times, when he sees the grin on High Lord Celyddon’s face. That fae does not smile. Neither of them do, yet he bares his teeth, extinguishing his cigar on his own tongue before popping it into his mouth. He chews the dried herbs, swallowing it and then follows Sieffre into the thick line of trees.

Oh, this is good. This is exactly what he wanted—to unveil a card that no one else knows.

Beron waits a few heart-flickers before pushing out of his secret hideaway, and begins to trail them.

While they make no sounds, creatures of such vast power are never fully concealed—it’s why High Lords rarely take matters into their own hands. Emissaries and spymasters are put to work; for a High Lord to move is to ask the earth itself (in Celyddon’s case) to move. His magic is easier to follow; Beron has come to recognize its flavour lingering in the air, as if the greenish tint on autumn leaves wasn’t telling enough as to where he’s been.

“You fucking disgust me,” Celyddon rumbles under the cover of the forest.

The two Lords keep moving, and Beron glances behind him. The trees—the trees are closing in. He can’t fall behind, lest they swallow him up. He stops only when they do, in a small clearing where the Priestesses perform their rituals. At the centre, a bloodstained altar awaits a sacrifice for the Mother, or any of her lesser gods.

Sieffre whirls on Celyddon, clawed hand outstretched. The Spring Lord, despite his size, sidesteps with ease, bringing both his fists down towards the Night Lord’s spine. Sieffre vanishes, like a dark cloud, and Beron has to crane his neck to try and find him. His clothes are too dark to see beneath the lightless canopy of trees, but the High Lord’s pale face is like the moon in the darkness.

The Hewnian reappears behind Celyddon, and the latter dips his head to try and gore his opponent with his horns. Neither draw blood, neither can quite put their hands on each other. Sieffre is far too agile, too slippery in his shadowy domain, and Celyddon is a bull. Those who fear his size forget his calculating mind, and those who have been terrorized by his brilliance assume he won’t rely on simple force if it pleases him.

Beron’s tail wags with muted anticipation, like a cat with vested interest. He doesn’t know who will gain the upper hand, he doesn’t know which outcome would be more terrifying. Fingers dig into the bark of a birch tree, admiring the contrast in style and in anger. Celyddon’s emotions are like battering rams, punched into the air when his rival vanishes again. Sieffre’s hate is like a dagger knife slipped easily between ribs—quiet, unexpected and efficient.

“Sieffre!” The Spring regent roars, and both the trees and the night scramble to swallow the sound. 

They crash into one another, and Beron can’t see —what happened? What happened ? He leans further and further in, drinking in every move and every snap of magic whipped in each other’s direction.

Celyddon straddles Sieffre, his strong hands wrapped around that slender column of a neck. He squeezes, and yet, the Lord beneath him only laughs, a cool foreign sound.

“Tired of that docile cunt already, C?”

Lithe fingers curl around Celyddon’s ornate robes, hiking them up to reveal thick thighs—thicker than both of Beron’s legs put together. The Spring Lord shrugs the layers off with a swear; he only wears this damned outfit in the name of tradition. Beron’s breath catches, and he nearly chokes at the sight of Celyddon in all his glory. A monster of a male, with muscles rippling down his wide back, and his abdomen. He is made of earth and stone, and he is the epitome of power.

A flush colours Beron’s cheeks, and he nearly looks away,  but he forces himself to focus. He might never see a sight like this again.

Sieffre digs his claws into the perfect musculature padding his ribs, and uses the new wounds as leverage to pull him down for the violence of a kiss. Beron’s not sure if he can call it kissing; it is made of teeth and growl. Crimson colours Sieffre’s thin, pale lips, and trickles down the corner of his lips. They favour devouring one another over breathing, and Celyddon is the first to break contact; Sieffre bares his teeth with a hiss, his elongated fangs glimmering in the low light.

There’s an ache between Beron’s legs, and the fire in the cage of his chest rages. He has never felt so alive, standing so close to death. Should they find him, they will tear him apart. He stands here, on the cusp of annihilation and the fear becomes inseparable from his anticipation. He palms his hardness, willing it to go down lest they scent his arousal, but… he wants to get closer. He wants to be a part of this, any way he can. Perhaps, by proximity, greatness will spill onto him. Perhaps, by virtue of what they are doing, he can drink up errant flecks of their sheer dominion.

He spots a lower bush, just three easy steps forward. The High Lords are too caught up to notice him, surely.

“Turn over,” Celyddon orders.

“Fucking coward,” Sieffre spits. “We both know you’d thrive bent over and speared onto my cock.” He curls his bloodied fingers into Celyddon’s blonde hair, pulling him in the same way Celyddon had done his wife. “ That is why you cannot be satisfied, even with your mate.” His laughter echoes around them, coming from the shadows rather than his chest.

The taunt gives Beron his opportunity to move, stepping forward—

Crack.

Beron stills.

No.

Maybe—

Maybe they didn’t hear the split of a branch beneath his all-too-heavy weight. Maybe they really are too caught up in one another to notice him. He raises his head, and Celyddon is getting to his feet, eyes searching the darkness in his direction. Sieffre is nowhere to be found.

Beron is yanked back suddenly, and slammed into the birch tree he’d hidden behind. A whimper escapes him before he can stop it. He feels the line of Sieffre’s body against his back, and his face burns with shame at getting caught. What a stupid, stupid mistake. It was a simple task: be fucking quiet. His eyes burn, but Vanserras do not cry. The tears are likely to burn up before getting anywhere significant.

“Do you like what you see?” Sieffre’s cool breath curls around Beron’s ear, warring against his natural heat. He fists Beron’s hair and makes him look. Celyddon has turned to face them now, no longer the elegant ruler that had ridden into his lands, but a brutal warrior. Blood trickles from his sides, courtesy of Sieffre, and without the clothes to mask his size, he is impossibly large. Beron’s gaze lands on his erection, just as thick as the rest of him, and standing proud against his muscular belly. 

That—That can’t possibly fit in anyone.

The Night Lord huffs his amusement, and breathes in deeply. “You smell like cinnamon,” he scoffs. “Is that what I should expect with your sister? Sugar, spice and everything nice? ”

“No,” Beron breathes, his chest crushed between Sieffre and the tree trunk. “I’m—I’m better.”

Sieffre exhales from his nose, concealed laughter as he drags Beron by the hair and tosses him into the clearing.

“The fuck is this,” Celyddon demands, folding his monstrous arms over one another as he looks down at Beron. 

Between the two old lords—lords who have been shaped by their Courts—Beron is tiny. They tower over him, and he realizes his mistake. He can’t reach them, he never was. It was never a question of time, or training. They are the chosen ones of their Courts, the avatars of their elements. They are so much more than rulers; they are distilled divinity. He refuses to back down; if this is as close as he will ever get to the goddess, then so be it.

“He believes Arroyo has made a mistake in his proposal.”

“Does he also think water is wet?”

“I am. I’m better than my sister, and your mate too. Anything a female can do, I can do better.”

Celyddon is much more open with his mocking, laughing at his face. There is no amusement in the sound, just booming, wordless condescension. “Go home, kindling. You’re out of your depth. I’m in a good mood. Fuck off.”

“I can prove it!” Beron says quickly before they send him off; they can winnow him away without moving from their spots, an easy feat for one such as them. He keeps his eyes tilted upwards, riveted on Celyddon who exchanges a glance with Sieffre.

“Alright. Prove it. If we disagree, I’ll kill you and fuck your corpse.”

[potatoplace]

Omega Needs - Chapter 6

Feylin, eventual Feysand

chapter 5 | chapter 7 | series masterlist

Story Summary: Feyre presented as an omega after being changed into a high fae Under the Mountain. Her heats have been hellish, and Tamlin has neglected certain aspects of her presentation. After the disastrous wedding ceremony, how will Feyre’s omega handle being away from her Alpha?

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, not proofread

Words: ~6.3k

Author's Note: this came out sooner than I expected! It is only covering another day and a half, but there will be another chapter before Tuesday for the rest of Feyre's first week in the Night Court. I hope you all like it!

18+ only pls

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Feyre was awoken a while later by Cerridwen knocking on the doorframe of the bathroom.

“Feyre? Lunch is ready,” She said gently, her eyes considerately avoiding her naked form, still in the bath.

“Oh, thank you, Cerridwen. I’ll be out in a few minutes, you can leave it there, for me,” Feyre replied, a sleepy smile on her face. The shadow wraith nodded her head, then turned and walked away.

Feyre got up once she heard the snick of the door, wrapping her body in a fluffy towel. Her skin was pruney, but she felt more refreshed than she had before getting in the bath. She returned to the main room and got into her wardrobe, looking for something to wear until it was time to sleep.

She rummaged through the drawers at the bottom that she had yet to look at, and pulled out a soft set of matching shorts and a tank top in a pale, minty green. The color reminded her of Spring, and she quickly dried her body off and slipped the items on, along with a pair of socks that went up to her mid calf.

Feyre then moved to the table, where Cerridwen had left a tray holding a soup, tomato, she would guess, and a grilled sandwich filled with cheese cut into two triangles. Feyre tucked in, loving the basil and slight creaminess the soup had, and the sandwich went perfectly with the soup.

She had just sat down in the plush armchair with one of the novels she had picked out earlier when Cerridwen returned for the tray.

Before Feyre could second guess the request, Feyre blurted “Would you be able to get me a sketch pad and some charcoals, Cerridwen?”

The wraith turned around, tray already in her arms. “Of course, Feyre. I’ll be back in just a moment with it.”

“Thank you,” Feyre said, grateful that the other fae hadn’t questioned her on her request.

Cerridwen returned a few minutes later, three differently sized sketch pads and an assortment of charcoals, blending stumps and erasers in hand.

Feyre stood up and excitedly took the items from the other fae. "Thank you so much, Cerridwen, these look perfect!"

"I'm glad you like them, Feyre," she said with a warm smile, one of the few Feyre had seen from her.

Feyre set the supplies down on the table as Cerridwen left the room, closing the door behind her. The only thing missing was...

Quickly, Feyre dragged the armchair she had just been sitting in next to the table, close enough that she could reach the extra charcoals and supplies. She moved one of the smaller chairs in front of the armchair so that if she was here long enough, she could put her legs up without needing to move anything or risk getting charcoal on the fine furniture.

Feyre sat down and grabbed the smallest sized sketch pad and a piece of charcoal. Then, she began to draw the glorious view that had been calling to her the past three days.

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Feyre had completed three renditions of the mountains in front of her, one on each of the differently sized pads of paper. With each one, she became more and more confident.

She had thought any ability to create, to make something new in this world instead of just taking away from it had been taken away from her when her neck snapped.

But that wasn't the case. With her fingers covered in black dust, she had made something beautiful again- Feyre had just needed some inspiration, something out of the usual dullness of her life in Spring.

She was happy with Tamlin, that was true, but the constant season and Ianthe's hounding of every move she made had made her rather tired. But seeing another court, the other beauty that this world had to offer had rekindled the spark in her, the part of her that she had thought so useless as a starving human.

Feyre might even paint when she gets home- she did have a lovely set of paints from Tamlin that he had given her last Winter Solstice for her birthday.

She was brought out of her thoughts by a few gentle knocks on her door, and Mor's voice came from the other side. "Feyre? Can I come in?"

"Yes, come in Mor," Feyre replied, standing from her place on the chair and turning to face the door.

More breezed in, her striking golden hair in soft ringlets and dressed in a flowy white dress. "Dinner is ready, I thought I would walk you down there!"

"That would be nice, Mor. Let me just change," Feyre said, looking down at her attire. She was definitely not going to eat dinner with Rhys and Mor in pajamas.

She pulled another matching set in the same cut as the one she'd worn this morning from her wardrobe, this one in a shade of pale blue. Feyre went into her bathroom and quickly changed, folding the pajamas and setting them on the counter for tonight.

Once she was done, the two of them made their way down to the table they had been eating at while Feyre was here. Rhysand was nowhere to be seen, and they took their seats.

On the table was a bowl of salad, a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and a small plate holding butter, as well as their place settings. There was an empty space in the middle of the table, and Feyre assumed that there was another dish that had yet to be put out.

Mor took to pouring them each a glass of wine, which Feyre gladly take a sip of. It was sweet, the flavor bursting across her tongue, far better than the usual wines they had with dinner in Spring, all chosen for their scents rather than taste. Why, Feyre could not fathom.

"Rhys brought out the good stuff, thank the Mother!" Mor exclaimed as she took her own sip. "I like the taste of wine and all, I just enjoy it even more when it tastes like there's no alcohol in it."

"I'll agree with you there," Feyre laughed. "Speaking of Rhys, where is he?"

"He's just bringing out the main dish," Mor replied, and as she did Rhysand came out of the darkness of the hallway leading to the kitchen. "Good thing you're here, Rhys, I'm starving."

Without saying a word, Rhysand set the bowl on the table and took a seat, dishing out food for all three of them.

"Thank you, Rhys," Feyre said gently after he had given her a piece of bread, her plate now loaded with salad and the creamy pasta dish he had brought. The pasta had mushrooms, onions, chicken, and pieces of crumbled bacon in it, and was absolutely delicious.

Rhysand said nothing, merely nodding his head in acknowledgment as he poured his own very full glass of wine, downing half of it in one gulp.

"So, Feyre, I saw you had some sketch pads...?" Mor prodded gently after a few minutes of tense silence.

"Oh." Feyre blushed, she wasn't quite prepared to talk about art yet, but she supposed now was as good a time as ever to start again. "I asked Cerridwen if she could, I hope that was okay."

"Of course, Feyre! Again, you can ask for pretty much anything you want and we will get it for you, it's no trouble to us at all," Mor interrupted with a sweet smile, and that combined with her scent, still calm, soothed Feyre's small bit of panic.

"Well, thank you. I just... the view out of my bedroom is so spectacular, I needed to commit it to memory."

Mor nodded, that smile still on her face. "I can understand that, our court is so beautiful. I wish I was any good with the arts, but I am rather dreadful at everything I’ve tried," Mor chuckled.

“Oh, I’m sure you aren’t that bad Mor. Maybe you could try again? It does take practice after all.”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll leave it to you and the other creatives,” Mor said lightly. She looked over to Rhysand, who was still silently eating his dinner and on his second glass of wine. “Is there anywhere else you’d like to sketch, Feyre?”

Feyre thought about it for a moment before answering. “There’s nowhere specific that I can think of. Right now, at least. But I haven’t been able to explore much of the Spring Court, I’ve been constantly busy this past year. But maybe you’ll be able to show me a few of your own favorites here?” She asked, hopeful for the idea of more glorious view to put on paper.

“I’d love to do that Feyre! Between that and our Dawn Court trip, I am going to have so much fun planning!” Mor clapped her hands together in excitement.

The blonde was definitely living up to Feyre’s first impression of her. Very bright and friendly, just like her personality.

Rhysand stoop up abruptly, his chair scraping against the stone beneath them loudly. He grabbed his glass of wine and stalked off.

Feyre stared after him, confused. “What was that all about?”

Mor sighed, and it was the first time had heard her sound tired. “One of our temples was attacked a couple of hours ago, we lost some of our citizens. He’s taking it rather hard, after all of the losses from… well, you know.”

Feyre grimaced. “That’s awful… Have you caught who did it yet?”

Mor pursed her lips, eyeing the hallway Rhysand had disappeared down. “Promise you won’t tell anyone about this?” Feyre nodded, she wasn’t sure what use the information would be to her or anyone she knows anyways. “We caught the actual people who went through with the act, but we believe it to be the work of Hybern.”

“Hybern?” Feyre had never heard of such a place, only Prythian and the Continent.

“It’s a large island kingdom to our west… Amarantha was one of their generals, and we believe they might be planning something. What, we aren’t sure of, but Rhys’s goal is to unite Prythian to stop whatever conflict is brewing. But… Today hit him hard. None of us were expecting a seemingly random loss of innocent life.”

Feyre frowned, looking to where he had exited the room from. “I am sorry. I can’t imagine what it must feel like, losing people again, so soon after everything.”

Mor loosed another sigh, slumping back in her chair. “It is difficult, for sure. But seeing you- seeing someone be able to create good in this world reminds me that it’s worth it. No matter what comes, we will need people like you, more than ever.”

“People like… Me?” Feyre asked, unsure of what she meant.

“Dreamers, Feyre. People who can look at the world and see the good in it, no matter what they’ve been through. It might take them a week, a month, a year…” Mor paused and smiled at Feyre knowingly. “But people like you always come back to what’s beautiful and worthwhile in the world.”

The words brought a smile to Feyre’s face. “Dreamers, hmm? I like the sound of that…”

Mor jumped up from her chair, startling Feyre. “Dreamers deserve cake, don’t you think Feyre?”

“Oh, they do Mor!” Feyre hopped out of her chair was well, loving the idea Mor had suggested.

Mor dragged her down the hallway to the kitchen, the two of them giggling all the way like children sneaking food in the middle of the night. They slid to a stop in front of the massive fridge, and Mor swung the doors of it open wide.

“Cake, cake, cake,” Mor sang, pulling out a beautifully decorated cake. It was wrapped in a lovely blue-grey frosting, which nearly matched her eyes, Feyre noted, and topped with blackberries, raspberries, and blueberries.

“It’s beautiful,” Feyre breathed, surprised by how lovely a cake could be. None of the wedding cakes she had tasted in Spring had drawn her attention like this one did.

“It tastes as amazing as it looks, Feyre, I promise,” Mor said as she grabbed a large knife, two forks, and two plates out of a cabinet. She cut two generous slices for the both of them and led Feyre over to the breakfast bar on the other side of the island counter.

They both let out a groan at their first bites, the simple but perfect vanilla cake and sweet berry filling was absolute perfection.

“So, Feyre… I didn’t want to ask when Rhys was around in case it made you uncomfortable, and you are in no way obligated to answer me… But how’s this past year been for you? How’s uhm… How are things with Tamlin?” Mor asked hesitantly.

Feyre smiled awkwardly, swallowing her bite of cake. “It’s been… it’s been tough, for sure. There’s been a lot for me to get used to, not even just with preparing to be Lady of Spring, but… I have a new body too.”

Mor grimaced. “I can’t imagine what it must be like, Rhys said you had grown a couple of inches, right?” Feyre nodded her head. “That must have been so disorienting to get used to.”

“It was, it took me a month to stop stumbling around everywhere, and two months for me to stop mangling the silverware at dinner,” Feyre laughed, Mor joining her. “And as for Tamlin… well, it would have been nice if the ceremony had gone as planned but I… I had a panic attack, and well… Rhys stepped in at just the right time to not ruin our relationship entirely. I am looking forward to going home, though, and seeing him again. I… I miss my alpha,” Feyre admitted in a small voice.

“Oh, Feyre. You’ll be back to him in just a few days, there’s no need to worry. I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you too,” Mor comforted her, rubbing a soothing hand on her back.

“I know, I just wish we had been able to talk before I left for a moment… But there’s no point to worrying now, I can’t do anything from here.”

“Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable? Rhys mentioned… He mentioned that you might go into heat, or the beginnings of it during this week.” Mor was looking at her with soft eyes.

“I’m not sure,” Feyre said, biting her lip. “You mentioned there’s a catalog with nesting materials?”

Mor’s eyes lit up. “Yes, there is Feyre. Would you like me to show you which one it is?”

“Yes, please.”

The two of them ran with their half eaten plates of cake into Feyre’s room, Mor giving her plate to Feyre and rummaging through the catalogs before pulling out the one they were looking for.

“Can I help you look?” Mor asked with puppy dog eyes, and Feyre couldn’t resist.

“You can help me make sure I get colors that mostly go together.”

“Yes!” Mor jumped onto Feyre’s bed, patting the spot next to her.

They spent the next hour going through the entire booklet, Feyre picking out a plethora of different blankets, pillowcases, and cuts of materials that she knew would look and feel perfect in her nest from the illustrations and descriptions. She insisted on only getting items in varying shades of purple, blue, and pink, making sure to get pastels and darker versions.

Feyre could almost see her nest now, the top of it colored like the sunset and the bottom resembling the sunrise. She fell back into her pillows, letting out a happy sigh as she did so.

“You good, Feyre?” Mor giggled at her.

“Mhm, I’m just excited to have all of it…”

“Well, you won’t have to wait long. I’ll go right after breakfast tomorrow. Did you want to look at any of the other catalogs?” Mor suggested, already getting up to grab said catalogs.

“I don’t see why not,” Feyre said as she caught one- seemingly for clothing- from midair.

Feyre found a few dresses that she wanted- all in the same color scheme as her nesting materials. One of them was absolutely gorgeous, it was colored like a soft pink sunset, lighter at the top and fading into a lovely violet at the hem. It was something Feyre normally wouldn’t wear on an average day, but she figures that her time here hasn’t exactly been average, so she might as well go all out when she feels like it. She also picked two skirts and their matching long sleeved tops, both in deep jewels tones. The description promised them to be silk, one of Feyre’s favorite materials for clothing, and the beautiful sapphire and amethyst colors were too tempting to resist.

By the time they had gone through three more clothing booklets, the sun had long since set and the two of them were laughing, slightly delirious from tiredness.

“Feyre, dear, I think I’m going to head to bed,” Mor said, finally pulling her body off of Feyre’s bed. “I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast, alright?”

Feyre smiled, a bright and genuine thing, and nodded her head. “I’ll see you then, Mor. And thank you, for this. It was fun.”

“It’s no problem at all, Feyre, I had fun too. Sleep well."

And with that, the Alpha left her room, shutting the door behind her softly. Feyre got up from her bed, stretching her limbs before walking to the bathroom. She changed into her green sleep set from earlier, then tucked herself into bed, staring out at the stars over the mountains.

A few minutes later, the excitement and sugar wearing off, Feyre fell into a deep sleep.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

Feyre woke when a knock sounded on her door. She didn’t move.

“Feyre, darling? Breakfast is ready.” It was Rhysand.

Feyre merely rolled over in her bed, pulling the covers over her head. She heard the door open, and soft footsteps crossing the room.

“Feyre.”

She stayed still, trying to breathe as little as possible.

“Feyre.” Rhysand’s hand wiggled one of her feet, and she reflexively pulled away from his grasp. “Fey-ruh,” he said in a sing-songy voice, grabbing her other foot.

“I don’t want to get out of bed,” She finally whispered when she pulled her feet in towards her body.

“You only need to get up for breakfast, darling, we can do your training in here if you still want to be in bed afterwards,” Rhysand offered. Feyre groaned, but moved the blankets off of her face to look at him.

“You promise?”

Rhysand beamed at her. “Of course, Feyre. I promise. Now, will you change and meet me outside?”

“Fine,” Feyre huffed, waiting until he had left the room to throw the covers off of her body. She got up and went to her wardrobe, picking out a soft pair of leggings and a dark green sweater, then pulled on a pair of matching green knee high socks.

She felt nice and cozy, a decent enough substitution for her bed. Feyre joined Rhys in the hallway, and they made their way down to the dinner table.

Mor was already seated, pouring orange juice and some kind of sparkling wine into glasses for all of them, and on the table there were omelettes already on their plates, as well as a bowl of diced melons.

Breakfast was delicious, as Feyre was coming to expect from her meals here, and the bubbly mimosas Mor had poured made all of them relaxed and the time fly by.

Soon enough, Mor was leaving, heading off to go do Feyre’s shopping.

“Don’t worry, Feyre, I’ll be buying things for myself as well,” Mor reassured her when Feyre had voiced a concern about Mor spending her day shopping for her.

“Mor is fantastic at finding new things she needs, especially if you two looked over any clothing booklets last night,” Rhysand chuckled, and Mor flipped him off before she vanished. “So, Feyre, did you want to get back in bed or go to the training room?”

“Uhm… the training room should be fine, I was just so comfortable…” she trailed off.

“If you change your mind, just let me know, Feyre.” She dipped her head in agreement, and the two of them made their way to the training room, sitting in the same chairs they had yesterday.

“Let’s start with shielding again. Your shield from yesterday was wonderful, you might try adding in some defenses to ward away intruders before they try exploring the waters of your mind,” Rhysand suggested.

Hearing that she had done well again, Feyre beamed at Rhysand. “I’ll do my best.”

She thought of what might be able to protect her in the water. Feyre had never seen the sea, though her father had told tales of great beasts that would take bites out of a ships hull. She couldn’t picture what that might look like. Though… she did have one idea for a defensive mechanism.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Rhysand entered her mind, finding some resistance in the initial push inwards. He attempted to dive below the water, but it was solid this time, as though an inch thick layer of ice had covered it- so he smashed his way through, plunging beneath the surface. He made it a few yards down before her defenses found him.

He was face to- well, maw- with the Middengard Wyrm- the beast Feyre had nearly died slaughtering. They weren’t able to swim in the physical world, but the one in Feyre’s shielding was a vicious swimmer, propelling itself towards Rhysand’s power at a rapid pace, and just before it swallowed him whole, he backed out of her mind, breathless.

“Feyre- that was brilliant! I’m so proud of you, it takes most fae months to get to the level you’ve already achieved.”

“Rhys, stop it, you’re just saying that,” Feyre countered.

“I am being serious, Feyre. Most fae have trouble coming up with anything but a literal wall for their mental barrier, but you’ve already created an ocean and have a terrifyingly realistic Wyrm to serve as both protection and a warning to daemati that do manage to breach the initial barrier of your mind. It is amazing how well you are progressing already.”

Feyre looked at him, really looked at him. His eyes were eager and truthful, and his expression was softened by them.

“Are you… okay?” Feyre finally asked the question that had been at the back of her mind since he had woken her for breakfast. “Mor, she told me some of what happened yesterday.”

Rhysand sighed, holding his chin in his hand. “I am not okay, Feyre, but I hope to be soon. It will take a while for the loss of my people to leave my heart. Thank you, for asking Feyre.”

Feyre merely nodded, then asked, “Again?”

They practiced a few more times, each time Rhysand pushed Feyre to make the initial barrier of her mind stronger, thicker. Harder for his power to seep or crack through. By the end of the second hour, Feyre was sweating and tired, her mind feeling a bit fuzzy at the edges.

“We’ll stop here for now with the shielding, Feyre. Here, drink this,” Rhysand said, procuring a glass of water with a straw from nowhere, and handed it to Feyre. She gulped it down, feeling more present and alert after finishing the glass.

“Thank you, Rhys. Are we going to work on my magic now?” Rhysand bobbed his head in confirmation.

“I’d like you to locate your magic again, and then attempt to draw it out, a good place to start with that is through the hands, they give more of a physical point to lead the magic to.”

Feyre did as he asked, closing her eyes and finding that slowly writhing mass of cold energy within her chest. It seemed more active today, wiggling in time to her heartbeat instead of every other beat. She tried to stretch it out, move it towards her arms, but it wouldn’t budge. She let out a frustrated groan and opened her eyes.

“It’s stuck.”

“Keep trying, Feyre. You’ll get it,” Rhysand encouraged her, and she shut her eyes and tried again.

She tried to move it more gently this time, in time with its natural pulsing. It expanded slightly in the direction of her arm before snapping back into place. Feyre brought a hand to her heart, soothing the ache the sensation had left behind.

“I got it to move, but barely,” Feyre grumbled, feeling discouraged.

“That’s great though, Feyre, just a few minutes ago you couldn’t get it to expand at all. Keep trying, practice will make it looser and able to expand more quickly and with less intense after effects.”

Feyre sat trying for the next hour, and managed to get the magic to expand through most of her chest and able to hold it there for around three seconds. She was exhausted, though, and drenched in sweat.

She went to try again, grasping at the power contained within her once again, before Rhysand placed a gentle hand on her arm. “Feyre, you should rest for the day.”

“No, I can keep trying Rhys, I’ll be fine-” Feyre protested before Rhysand cut her off.

“I know that you can keep trying, Feyre, but there is no need to exhaust your body any further today, it will most likely do more harm than good. Your progress in both areas today has been fantastic, you should be proud of yourself! I know that I am proud of you, Feyre,” Rhysand said in a caring tone, and the words of praise made Feyre’s omega so happy she was on the verge of purring aloud.

“Thank you, Rhys,” Feyre responded with a blush high on her cheeks. She stood from her chair and stretched her sore, aching muscles. Rhysand followed suit, and walked Feyre back to her bedroom just as he had yesterday.

“Mor will be back in around a half hour with lunch for you and multitudes of shopping bags I’m sure she is going to bring home,” Rhysand informed her with a chuckle once they were by her door. “Make sure you’re eating well when you practice, Feyre, magic eats through out energy stores very quickly, especially at the start of learning to wield it.”

“I’ll pay attention to that, Thank you Rhys,” Feyre said. Rhysand smiled and turned around, heading back in the direction they had come from, and Feyre slipped into her room.

Like yesterday, she made her way to the bathroom and stripped herself of her clothing, tossing it in the laundry basket before sinking down into the water. She relaxed for a few minutes, letting the hot water soothe her aching muscles before she began to wash her hair, then moved on to her body.

In about twenty minutes, Feyre had just dried off and slipped on a soft black sweater dress when a knock came on her door. “Come in!”

The door busted open, revealing Mor carrying at least ten different bags, all stuffed to the brim with various colors and types of fabrics. “Today was so much fun! I got everything you asked for plus a few things that I thought might be nice that weren’t in the catalogs.” She dumped the bags on the floor, before going back out to the hall and grabbing a few more bags, one of which was giving off a deliciously spicy smell. “I also brought lunch, it’s from my favorite restaurant, I think it’s some type of curry but no matter what it will be amazing!”

Feyre moved to the bags on the floor first, instantly spotting an amethyst fabric that she snatched away, bringing it to her face and nuzzling into it. Mor dropped the bags that didn’t hold food on the ground with the rest and moved to the table, unpacking the food as Feyre continued rummaging in the bags.

“Oh!” Feyre exclaimed as she pulled out a pair of violet thigh high kitted socks, thick and soft and everything Feyre needed right now. She slipped them on quickly, and returned to her post of sorting through the massive amount of materials in front of her.

Before she could do much sorting- into piles of blankets, pillow cases, hemmed pieces of fabrics, pillows, and clothes- Feyre was interrupted by Mor.

“Feyre, you need to eat lunch.”

Feyre ignored her, continuing to pull item after item out of the bags, rubbing each one against her face before placing them in the correct pile.

“Omega.” That got Feyre to stop and turn towards the alpha who was already seated at the table, dishing food out for the both of them. “You need to eat, Rhys said you did a lot of training today. Be good and follow his instructions, okay?” Feyre bit her lip, gaze moving back to the still unsorted bags. “Omega, everything will be there when you finish eating, I promise. You can even sit and stare at them while you eat, if you’d like, but you need to eat, Feyre.”

Feyre finally got up from the floor, a pout on her lips as she took her seat. It was quickly erased when she smelled the food again, that wonderful spiced aroma filling Feyre’s senses. She sat so that she could see the bags out of the corner of her eye, but was still able to look out at the mountains if she wished.

“How’s the training going?” Mor asked a few minutes after Feyre had begun eating the creamy yellow chicken curry and rice.

“Rhys says it’s going well, but I have my doubts…” Feyre confessed. “I haven’t been able to summon anything, let alone move my magic into my limbs.”

“That’s true, you are in the beginning stages of learning to use your magic. It is the hardest part, I promise you, but from the few details Rhys has told me that you are progressing quickly, especially in the mental shielding aspect.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Feyre. And if I’m being honest, being able to keep Rhys out for any amount of time is impressive, even for someone who has practiced for years. The fact that you’ve been able to shows just how capable you are for magic. I think you’ll get the hang of it faster than you think,” Mor said sweetly, and every word from the alpha’s lips soothed the tension that had built inside of her body since this morning.

Hearing it from Rhys was one thing, he seemed to prefer training with a gentle hand for the moment, but hearing assurances from someone else was helpful. Calming, even. Feyre shook her head.

“I can’t believe I was so worried about that, it’s such a silly problem.”

“Feyre, it’s not silly. You’ve been given magic after being a human all your life, I think it would be more strange to not worry about it.”

“I suppose you’re right, Mor.”

Mor flashed her a smile. “I know I am, Feyre.”

The two of them finished their lunch, staring out at the passing clouds. As soon as Feyre was done, she washed her hands in the bathroom and returned to the bags to continue sorting them.

“Do you want me to help, Feyre, or are you fine on your own?” Mor asked from where she was still sitting at the table.

“I can do it on my own, but you can stay if you’d like. Or are you busy?” Feyre looked up at the other fae then, worried that she had taken up to much of the blonde’s time.

“No, no, I have nothing else to do today. I can stay for a while,” Mor said soothingly, and Feyre relaxed. “I’ll try reading one of those romance books you have over there, if that’s alright?”

“Oh, of course,” Feyre said, already focused on sorting everything again.

In a few minutes, all of the bags were emptied and everything sorted, and Feyre sighed. That part was done. Now, to arrange it all on her bed and around the room.

Feyre began to assemble her nest, carefully choosing which spot each item rested in to make it as perfect as possible. Her sunset to sunrise pattern was stunning, if she had to describe it in any way but perfect.

Her nest is perfect.

Tears fill Feyre’s eyes as joy bubbles in her chest.

It’s the first time her nest has felt right to her; every time in Spring something had felt off, like she didn’t have the right materials or patterns to satisfy her omega.

But now? Staring at the beautiful nest, with fabrics piled around the bed on the floor continuing the pattern she had created, her nest felt so welcoming and lovely.

Feyre slid onto the bed, rolling around on it and relishing in the soft slip of fabrics against her skin.

The door clicked shut, and Feyre’s head swung towards it, then back to the table where Mor had last been.

She was gone, as were the containers from lunch and the shopping bags.

Oh mother, did she see me rolling around in my nest? Feyre thought, color creeping up her neck.

But in a few moments, Feyre was back to basking in the happiness of her newly completed nest, her omega feeling the most at peace she had since Feyre had been turned into one.

Feyre pulled a violet body pillow into her body, wrapping her arms around it and stuffing it between her thighs. A series of deep breaths left her as her body relaxed into the nest, and she fell asleep just a few minute after curling up.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

“Feyre, darling, wake up,” came Rhysand’s voice, soft and comforting and oh so alpha.

She opened her eyes, met with the sight of Rhys standing in front of her nest before the fabric starts on the floor, holding a tray.

“It’s time for dinner, and Mor said you might not feel like leaving your room again today, so I brought dinner to you,” he explained with a smile. “Is it alright if I set the tray down in your nest, Feyre?”

Feyre nodded, and he placed the tray down in front of her as she disentangled herself from the body pillow and sat up.

He then dragged a chair over to the side of her bed, being mindful to not interfere with the boundary of Feyre’s nest, for which she was grateful.

In Spring, most of the maids had been mindful of her space, but Ianthe had never shown any care to keeping Feyre’s nest intact. This was a welcome change. Maybe she should stand up to Ianthe when she gets home…?

“How are you feeling, Feyre? Not too tired, I hope.”

Feyre blinked at him, the violet of his eyes catching her gaze. “Oh, uhm, I’m fine, thank you Rhys. A short nap helped, and the food Mor brought me for lunch was so good.” She turned her attention to the tray Rhysand had set in her nest and pulled it towards her. “This looks amazing too,” Feyre said, and started eating the thick slice of lasagna and roasted vegetables. “It is amazing.”

Rhysand chuckled. “It’s one of my favorites, lasagna was always a special meal for my brothers and I growing up. It meant we had done a good job that day, good enough for my mother to spend a few hours preparing the dish, all to put a smile on our faces,” he reminisced, a wistful look on his face.

“That was very kind of her, she must have cared about the three of you a lot,” Feyre said, thinking back on her own mother, who had hardly lifted a finger for Feyre’s well-being before she passed.

“She did. She did.”

The rest of their meal was spent in a comfortable silence, with Feyre still brushing her fingers against her different nesting fabrics every few seconds.

“When did you want to return home, Feyre?” Rhysand asked after they had both finished, a serious look on his face.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re obviously nesting, I want to make sure that you still feel comfortable being away from Tamlin.”

“Oh. Normally I… don’t actually go in to heat for at least three days, I should be able to make it to the end of the week.”

Rhysand considers it before adding, “Let me know if you do feel it starting, either Mor or I can take you back to Spring immediately. And there no need to worry, I won’t add any extra time to your future stays, Feyre.”

“Thank you, Rhys,” Feyre replied with a smile.

“Now, I think I’ll leave you to sleep, I’m going to head off to bed myself,” Rhysand said as he stood, gathering all of their dishes together and heading out of the door. “Goodnight, Feyre.”

“Goodnight, Rhys.”

The door snicked shut, and Feyre stood from her spot in her nest.

Pajamas. Then she can go to bed. She rifled through the wardrobe before pulling out a pretty purple nightgown that matched the soft she was wearing, made of a smooth satin that Feyre was dying to have on her skin all night. She removed her dress and slipped her nightgown over her shoulders. The fabric felt just as lovely as she thought it would.

Feyre stumbled back to her nest, falling into the middle of it. She pulled the body pillow back to its previous position and wrapped a soft, pink blanket around herself.

Between the food warming her stomach and the soft fabrics surrounding her, Feyre fell asleep in just a few minutes, floating on a sea of clouds in her dreams.

Series taglist: @icey--stars

[thesharkbait]

“ The Day We Met ”

chapter three pt.2 -

‘What…the fuck just happened?’

story tags/warnings : ot8/reader, male reader, polymerous pack, possessive hints, mature series, bdsm, strangers to lovers/mates, fantasy, courting, fluff, angst, mc is just a sweetie pie, male omega reader, alpha!seonghwa, pack alpha!yunho, alpha!mingi, beta!hongjoong, beta!yeosang, omega!wooyoung, alpha!san, alpha!jongho, wooyoung hates reader?, reader is the same height as woozi from svt, 18+ only no minors!!

chapter tags : maybe short chapter, fluff

a/n note : (heart divider by @cafekitsune)

Setting the table Y/n divided the food into each plates with an extra plate of pancakes and waffles in the middle sending a quick photo to his bestfriend “i made breakfast!” Suddenly clicking off his phone when he heard the others starting to file into the kitchen. Seonghwa and mingi were the first to enter the kitchen staring in amazement. Y/n closely watched their reactions. Sure he was used to making breakfast for others like at his old family pack when he made breakfast for the pups at the daycare he worked at. But this was different, this was for his new pack that he’d hopefully be joining. “I hope this type of meal is okay, i usually only cook for the pups or lixie” he stated with a smile plastered to his face as the pack sat at the table beginning to eat. After a moment of silence compliments started to fill the air even the stubborn pack omega wooyoung even hummed in delight next to a sleepy jongho who was holding him in his lap.

“You made breakfast?! usually we just make cereal now a days, but this is wayyyy better” seonghwa muttered out. Sure they made simple breakfast’s sometimes but none of them could really cook. Although seonghwa could make certain meals. The last time the rest tried to cook, mingi for example, the food came out burnt but somehow uncooked on the inside.

“Oh my god am i even awake right now…hwa pinich me..this taste like literal heaven where have you been all my life!” hongjoong sighed out dramatically stuffing his mouth full.

San stayed glued to his pack alpha as they entered the bathroom. “wooyoung seems to be reacting better to all of this you know..he came back to the nest smelling all happy along with being drenched in y/n’s scent. we all know they playmated in the bath from all of y/n’s loud moans it was hard not to just barge in there a fuck him myself.” Yunho chuckled at the other alphas word’s although he was right y/n was no where near quiet. Which was surprising because wooyoung barely even did anything to him.

“im surprised he didn’t do more honestly you know how he is, what they did was nothing compared to other things he’s done. i know you’re jealous with how much you love to watch. just imagine being able to watch our omega fuck y/n to tears god i just know-“

“Sannie id rather not get a boner this early plus he just got here. He doesn’t even know our dynamics yet after he knows then- well he did give his verbal consent and he accepted our collar, then you all can get to know one another in your own little ways but remember i will be the first to claim him in the end if he agrees to officially join the pack. Not just as our ‘helper’ ” Placing a passionate kiss against san’s lips yunho smiled at him bumping their noses together.

Yunho coming out of the bathroom from brushing his teeth came up from behind y/n and hugged the small omega surprising him. “You didn’t have to do this you know?…hwa could have helped you” he said in a hushed tone rocking them lightly side to side. Some might say it was weird for the pack alpha so be so welcoming to an outsider especially one that was not apart of his pack but with last night’s reassurance he was filled with joy and relief. It was like watching the sunrise in the early morning, hearing the birds chirp signaling a new day as begun. Y/n fitted perfectly with the rest of the pack even if some were still reasonably questioning it. He knew from the moment they finally met that he was meant to be with him. With all eight of them, every single one.

Smiling brightly y/n turned to look at yunho. “It’s okay yall needed rest and that kind of my job yeah?” his voice having a hit of playful sass. Glancing around he counted the number of heads at the table soon frowning as there was one missing, yeosang. “Wait is sangie still sleep? You eat ill go get him!” Giving yunho a quick hug he grinned widely before scurrying off to fetch the missing beta.

Glancing towards the two hongjoong watched as y/n quickly walked back to his room.

Opening the door to his room y/n bounced in with a bubbly attitude which slowly dissipated once he spotted yeosangs facial expression. “oh you are awake i made breakfast! the others are already eating at the table but i made sure to-”

“Why does it smell like other omega in here. Not only that-…you know wooyoung is not gonna be happy once he finds out right?” It didn’t just smell like other omega in y/n’s nest let alone all of his clothes. Oh no, it smelt like sex, slick, specifically the few clothes inside his next that didn’t come from y/n and wooyoung’s actions from last night. Trust he knows all wooyoung’s scent by heart. Yeosang now understood why his fellow beta came to him fuming with jealousy. Although he was as jealous as joongie had been he was worried for how wooyoung would act. Those two were the worst when it came to being jealous and now soon to be territorial over the new omega. While y/n had been cooking yeosang made sure to take a shower and change his clothes for an extra measure just to make sure none of the unknown omega’s scent got on him from y/n’s nest. “I won’t tell him myself but you might want to consider letting him know. Woo isn’t good with feeling threatened especially by a fellow omega, if he sees this as someone trying to steal what now his.” He sighed calmly staring at y/n.

Y/n stood frozen in his spot, he didn’t think it would be that much of a disturbance. Racking his brain of any reason why the other omega would have a problem with another ones scent in his nest left him confused. It wasn’t like they’d done it- fuck wait now that he remembered him and lixie had done a few things before they left. Quoting felix’s words ‘this will for sure make sure our scents last for a while just incase we miss each other too much.’ Y/n and felix were best friends although they are more classified as fuck-with-buddies plus being bff’s. However in the heat of the moment y/n didn’t bother to think rationally about the situation. All he could the of was to defend himself. Defend his nest. “Its just lixie, my bestfriend from my old pack back at home. Plus none of you have any say in what or who’s scent i include in my nest. If you don’t like it then…then fuck off!” he growled out his scent souring into a burnt chocolate smell. ‘wrong, beta not like nest. wrong. wrong. mine.’ Stomping over to his bed and shoving the beta away from his nest, the bell on his collar ringing violently from his harsh movements. It was his nest anyway he almost felt offended. Was his nest not perfect? He had spent all of 30 minutes setting it up and perfecting it. It was natural to feel hurt by someone commenting of any aspect of an omega’s nest if it wasn’t positive. It was their safe space.

“I didn’t mean to offend you i was just warning yo-”

“Breakfast is on the table” was all he said the tips of y/n’s ears turning red as he took a deep breath leaving the beta speechless. Tears gathering in his eyes. Y/n knew he was being difficult a brat even, not willing to even hear yeosang out. He didn’t care it was too early in the morning.

Yeosang walked in the kitchen fixing himself a cup of coffee while the rest just stared at him. “Sangie what happened why does is smell like burnt cake? Did you and y/n argue i heard him yell” seonghwa voiced out with concern. Sure enough when he was about to continue the sound of a door slamming shut sounded out throughout the kitchen.

Yeosang shook his head letting out a mocking laugh, “All i did was try to give the omega a heads up on something and it didn’t go that well.” He found it all amusing really, yeah the other had all the reason to be slightly upset but he also knew y/n was just being a brat. The other could have easily talked it out like an adult but that didn’t happen nor did he expect it to. Sitting down at the table he glanced at wooyoung before giving san a knowing look ‘seems like you were right.’

Wooyoung then spoke up, “maybe i should go talk to him you probably offended him with your oblivious-ness” he giggled out joined by a couple others.

“No, its okay let him cool off i doubt you would wanna go in there right now anyway with-” yeosang said nonchalantly before hongjoong abruptly cut him off quickly changed the topic before the omega could question. “So since woo, sangie, mingi, and hwa have the day free maybe you all can help get to know y/n. Let him know everyones cycle schedules- the ones that are coming up so no one is caught off guard.” He’d rather not escalate the situation more than needed. Of course everyone else wouldn’t have as much as a problem with y/n having his bestfriends/fwb’s scent in his nest, wooyoung was just extremely possessive. Once everyone was done eating seonghwa collected all the dishes putting them the dishwasher while jongho gave everyone kisses goodbye followed by the rest who had dance practice. After he was done, seonghwa ushered the rest to go sit in the living room before sending wooyoung off to get y/n.

In y/n’s room, the omega had called felix ranting about what happened as he rearranged his nest for the fifth time. “You know i knew this was bound to happen, with you practically being their new omega of course one of them is going to have a problem with you smelling like someone else. Not to mention with you keeping my slick stained shorts that i TOLD you to give up, but your drunk omega brain refused” felix chuckled out whole heartily. He recalled how on the night before they had to leave they had play-mated round after round until he left y/n begging for him to cum inside and refusing to let him pull out until he had a plug to fill him instead. Felix watched y/n’s collar as he began defending himself, “hey that really suits you, the collar i mean, but anyway you and i know he didn’t mean to offend you he was just being reasonable. Plus he did apologize right? If i were whats his name..wooyoung? i would be unhappy too with some random omegas slick in who is supposed to be ‘my omegas’ nest.”

Y/n sat infront of the phone’s camera listening to felix’s words letting them sink into his brain. Maybe he did a bit much with slamming the door. Now that he had really thought about it, it did make sense. This wasn’t the first time he had something similar to this happen. Felix had accidentally messed up his nest while y/n was cooking blueberry pancakes leaving him to walk back into the room thinking he was taking it apart which left the small male fuming with hurt and anger. Y/n didn’t even bother listening to his explanation before he threw the spatula at him and shoved him out of his room. That was also the first time he growled at his best friend surprising them both. After talking it out y/n laughed at the memory joined by felix who began teasing him resulting in the in him threatening to bake his favorite brownies the next time they meet and not share a single one. Running a hand through his fluffy hair he turned around at someone knocking on the room door, “give me a second lixie” Getting up he hurried to open the door. “oh hi hyung!”

Wooyoung stared down at y/n, “May i come in? i heard you and sangie’s little argument and i wanted to check up on you. I know how his words can come off as harmful at times.” Welcoming himself in he walking around the room seeing how y/n had already began decorating the space with little plants. Smiling softly at the other wooyoung continued on, “Any who i came to also tell you that we wanted to continue our conversation from last night-…”

“Y/n-ie who was it? hellooo” felix yelled out into the phone curiously, spotting a attractive male now into the cameras view. Y/n glanced towards his phone that was propped up on his pillow as wooyoung stared it down along with the cloth near it. Nibbling on his bottom lip he hurriedly jumped onto the middle of his nest snatching his phone. “Oh uh- lixie i gotta go byeee” he blew a kiss before suddenly ending the call. Clutching his phone he slid off the bed walking to wooyoung, “I know what your thinking that was just my best friend lixie-”

Wooyoung’s scent turnt bitter as his eyes stayed on the bed, “Why does it smell like another omega. Do you even understand what that collar means? You are ours, mine! Yet here you have another omega’s slick stained fucking clothes in your nest.” He held back a growl as he stalked toward y/n suddenly smelling the unknown omega everywhere making him even more upset. Not to mention how y/n spoke of the unknown omega so fondly. “Was this some joke to you? you’re mine so why the fuck to you smell of someone else” he gritted out while roughly tilting y/n’s chin up to look at him.

“I dont!- i mean i do but i was planning to get rid of it i promise i was talking about it with lixie! I was going to tell you first but yeosang found out..” Y/n spoke quickly his eyebrows pressed together in frustration. Suddenly his (felix’s) hoodie was being pulled off of him and thrown in the corner as wooyoung began scenting him roughly, leaving dark hickeys on his neck while muttering.

Wooyoung growled at the mention of the unknown omega’s name, “Oh so you weren’t going to tell me?” Y/n couldn’t say he was surprised at the males reaction. Felix had told him this was going to happen and oddly enough y/n wasn’t hurt nor offended, if it were any other pack he would have went off. Yet he was still caught off-guard. Letting out a small whine he gripped onto wooyoungs arms trying to pushed him away to continue explaining himself only earning a warning growl. Staying still he panted out a few words, “You can take it apart! i-im okay with you getting rid of any of felix’s scent only if you let me store it in my suitcase” his heart racing in his chest. Having the other upset with him was making y/n restless they had started off fairly well although a little rocky at first. Y/n would do anything in that moment to appease wooyoung.

Pulling away from y/n’s neck once he was partially satisfied with his work, wooyoung stomped over to the bed beginning to take the nest apart. He even made sure to rip apart the pair of shorts that had felix’s slick stained on them. He was almost embarrassed by how fast he got jealous. It didn’t help that his inner omega was still fuming at the though of someone else try to steal y/n away from him. They had just gotten him. He felt as if he needed to place his claim on him just to cool his inner turmoil, maybe it was because his omega was a higher status than y/n’s. “I am going to make you a new one myself, but first we have to continue our conversation from last night.” Rushing to his own closet wooyoung picked out one of his own t-shirts and scented it heavily before going back to y/n’s room proceeding to put it on y/n himself. “Come we’ll finish this later but for now i’d rather not have not hwa have a fit because we’re taking so long.” Taking a deep breath the two left the now messy room, y/n still a bit dazed. ‘What…the fuck just happened?’ was all he could think of he couldn’t decide whether he was turned on, lost, or happy that wooyoung basically announced that he accepted him as his.

Walking to the living room mingi eyed the two as they sat down, y/n on wooyoung’s lap. Mingi knew something happened but decided to save that question for later. Seonghwa then began to speak with a bright smile plastered on his face, “Okay ill start first i want to explain some of the roles of certain members of our pack so you can get to know us a little better. I personally know a little about how things are in a secluded pack as i lived in one for a short while and how different things can be. Which is another reason why i myself was extremely happy when you accepted the collar, it means alot to you and us so it is an honor. Anywho to start yunho is as you know our pack alpha but he is also the one who does most of the discipline and punishments along with san who is our brat tamer. Then there’s me and jongho who are more of the ‘caretakers’ we make sure everyone especially the omegas are taken care of and will mostly feed you ourselves. Im sure you’re used to that part from your old pack?”

Nodding his head y/n listened to the alpha closely. He could almost feel san and wooyoung’s eye contact the moment his name was mentioned. Don’t get him wrong y/n was fairly well behaved but he was indeed a brat even if he acted like he was some sweet angel when they first meet face to face. With his big doe eyes, fluffy hair, and soft voice y/n sold his innocent act well plus his average short height for an omega made it even better. As he fooled everyone around him, san saw right through his innocent front. It was no lie that the alpha could spot a brat from a mile away. “Mhm! some of the alphas would feed me and lixie before they went to hunt or just randomly at our festivals which was normal well i guess normal for us? I know its different here” y/n stated as wooyoung pulled him impossibly to him still on edge from earlier.

“Yes it is indeed different here, people here are more how do i put it their more private to who cares for their pack. For example in secluded packs like yours and my old one, it’s normal for alphas to care for omegas and give them their attention more because thats what they were taught, but here its seen as a threat if someone other than ur mated pack to do such things. Its seen as one trying to steal the omega from them. People who come from secluded packs are more in touch with their inner wolf and base instincts no matter their status, but here not so much.” Seonghwa made sure to throughly explain to not only y/n but the rest of them it was important to do so to prevent unnecessary misunderstandings. Even though he understood some of the new omegas actions that didn’t mean the others did, “For instance wooyoung i noticed something happened this morning and our betas texted me mind explaining to san and mingi?” Of course hongjoong would tell the alpha anything that was bothering him and yeosang just couldn’t keep a secret especially if it would cause problems for his fellow pack members. Honestly seonghwa found it kind of amusing.

Mingi then spoke up pushing wooyoung to answer truthfully he was worried for him, “We can all see the marks u left on him not to mention we can barely smell y/n’s own scent. You have hlued yourself to him. So its no use lieing you only do that when u feel threatened and we all know you never growl i heard it we all did.” Y/n stayed quiet while letting out calming pheromones sensing how worried mingi and san truly were.

Wooyoung sighed into y/n’s neck with a pout his arms still wrapped tightly around his waist, “When i went into y/n’s room to check up on him i smelled another omega in there besides myself…and he was on call with some other omega. It made me so angry and i kind of lashed out i dont know why..normally im not this way if its not one of you guys but with him i feel even more protective? I felt threatened..” Wooyoung then went of explaining everything not leaving even the smallest detail out. It was relieving to get his thoughts off his chest to his alphas, “I know how i am but that was different it was like my inner omega was enraged. Luckily i held it in a little better or that would have been worst.”

Y/n gasped his eyes widened at the males last words, turning around in wooyoung’s lap he embraced the older omega an effort to comfort him. He didn’t tell him that in the room, sure he knew that wooyoung would be upset from felix’s explanation and the beta’s warnings, but he didn’t know his inner omega would be that upset too. He felt guilty now even though he knew he shouldn’t be. Placing a small kiss to his neck he whispered apologizes, “Im sorry for upsetting you i really am, i didn’t mean to i promise.” Raising his head he looked in his eyes with a small frown. His hands coming up to caress the older omega’s cheeks checking for any negative emotions on wooyoungs face or in his scent.

The three alphas watched the how y/n had reacted to the situation and comforted their omega. He noticed the changes in not only their body language but their scent and had let out calming pheromones for them. This is when mingi noticed why yunho had made a great choice of choosing him for his pack. Sure it was different having another omega in the pack but he now sees why even their own omega need another one. Seonghwa cleared his throat nodding while san and mingi went to the pair showering wooyoung in kisses. “Thank you for telling us woo” san whispered between kisses while mingi began scenting him. Y/n had managed to wriggle his way out of the omega’s arms as the two alphas surrounded wooyoung. Smiling to himself for a short moment he admired their affection. Looking around he paused, ‘wait..what wheres seonghwa?’ as if on que the alpha rubbed the top of y/n’s head messing up his hair even more.

“Im right here pup, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way ill just continue. Those three are gonna take a minute, haha. We always tend to be a bit more affectionate when it comes to any of us being upset, especially when its our omega or now should i say one of our omega’s?” the alpha paused with a hum tucking y/n’s hair behind his ear, god how are you so adorable. Y/n had reminded him of a bunny or maybe that was just the way his big doe eyes stared up at him when he talked, so much for being descended from wolves. “My rut is approaching in a few weeks, two to be exact while wooyoungs is after that. Oh and normally san’s rut and wooyoung’s heat tend to sink-up. The rest we’ll mention when they get closer” he spoke softly as if not to spook y/n gently pulling the male onto his lap. “I know i already said this but we really are glad you’re here. I don’t know what we would have done if it were anyone else. Its hard to explain…but i can tell even without words. May i scent you? Dont worry woo will be okay i promise.”

Seonghwa had made sure they were facing the now scent high omega. Wooyoung has a perfect view of y/n, seonghwa even made sure to make eye contact with the omega with a silent ask for permission. He knew that something was off with wooyoung, and only himself and seonghwa knew the true reasoning. Y/n thought about it for a moment, ‘is wooyoung okay? maybe he- no he will make sure to give the older omega more attention for today’ his teeth nibbling at his bottom lip before he nodded. Letting out a light sigh he reminded himself ‘he is okay, omega not mad anymore, alpha safe’ His omega felt restless wanting to check once more for himself just to make sure he was really okay with seonghwa scenting him but he shook it off turning around in the alpha’s lap. “Only if woo said its okay” y/n whispered out to the alpha. Scooting in closer he bared his neck just a bit allowing himself to be scented.

Smiling down softly at the small omega in his arms seonghwa dipped his face into y/n’s neck rubbing all the away up to the soft plush of his cheek. Feeling y/n began to relax more in his arms he hummed satisfied. The small male was already so easy to comply yet also keep them on their toes, he was soft and had a hourglass figure just like wooyoung, the difference being that he was shorter.

[running-with-toast]

Lettering sound effects in Shiori Experience

Hi! I’m Toast, the letterer on #dropout’s English translation of Shiori Experience. This series was my first time doing typesetting, and I’ve learned a lot over the two years I’ve been involved in the project. Each new chapter brings new challenges, and as our team has matured we’ve gotten more ambitious. We recently began translating the comic’s sound effects along with the dialogue, a decision which instantly doubled the size of our workload. 

Our most recent release, Chapter 64, was probably the most technically complex chapter we’ve done so far. The sound effects in this chapter were varied and complicated, presenting a number of interesting challenges. Today I thought it would be fun to give y’all a peek behind the curtain, and show the thought process and effort that goes into the adaptation of sound effects in Shiori Experience.

Shiori Experience is a music manga [citation needed], so it isn’t surprising that the sound effects can get pretty complicated. Music manga need to convey not just the sound, but more importantly the impact of a performance, conveying an auditory experience in a totally silent medium. Shiori Experience’s approach to this problem is to make the sound effects semi-diegetic objects. They hang in the air, burst out of crowds, get obscured by foreground objects, and cast shadows on their environment. This is a really cool effect, but also makes converting them from Japanese to English a fucking nightmare.

(Look at the shadows)

Shiori Experience is kind of a nightmare

In some ways, lettering for Shiori Experience isn’t actually that difficult. Sound effects in this series are goddamn everywhere and they’re fucking gigantic, but they’re always straightforward. Much like the art of the series, the sound effects are clean and angular, strong dynamic shapes which are easy to parse even if you can’t read the katakana. For a great example of this, look at this sequence from Chapter 64.

This sequence demonstrates what you can achieve with good lettering. The sound of the band is conveyed perfectly with these visuals. The clear and regular beat of the drums, the dark and energetic bass line, the screaming uncontrollable energy of the electric guitar. We didn’t even bother translating it. We didn’t need to.

But look at the sequence again. In spite of its apparent complexity, there’s only two fonts here, a dynamic block text and an angular brush. Those two fonts represent the vast majority of SFX in Shiori Experience. The rest is just text effects and perspective tricks.

So to convert these sound effects into English, we just have to find equivalent fonts. It took me a while to pin down a set of fonts I was happy with. For the pointy brush font I eventually settled on Jolly Lodger, a brush font with a sort of piratey vibe. I’m still not 100% satisfied with this conversion, it isn’t as pointy as the original, but it’s good enough for now.

And for the big block font I chose Boogaloo. It looks a little thin when it’s on its own like this, but it really bulks up with the right text effects.

Great! We’ve got our fonts! Doing the sound effects should be as simple as erasing the old text and replacing it with the new text, right? Wrong. The nightmare begins.

Different approaches

There are several schools of thought when it comes to lettering manga SFX. One is the "keikkaku means plan" approach. In a translator's note outside the panel, or in plain text near the SFX, describe what the sound is. This is incredibly easy. This is also lame.

(This is from the official release of Dungeon Meshi. I wouldn’t want to redraw this one either, but like, come on guys.)

Another school of thought is style matching. Similar to the translator’s note approach, but rather than plain text, the translation uses similar text effects to the original SFX. This works fine, but it can create a lot of visual clutter if implemented poorly.

(This is from Drifting Dragons. Please read Drifting Dragons.)

The last approach is full replacement. In this approach, the original SFX is (are you ready for this?) fully replaced by the new SFX.

SFX Redrawing

Replacing a sound effect isn’t as simple as just erasing it. We work with tankoban pages, scans of the Japanese volume release. These files are flattened, with the art and text all on one layer as a single image. We can’t just disable the text. In order to remove the original SFX, we have to redraw them.

(for context this is from when I had covid)

Redrawing means recreating the art hidden by the original SFX. This is a complex process, requiring a steady hand, sharp eyes, and  a lot of guesswork. Since we don’t know what precisely is underneath the original SFX, we have to use context to reconstruct it. The goal of any localization is to make the translation invisible to the reader. The same principle holds true in redrawing. The art we add needs to be invisible, meshing seamlessly with the original artwork.

(I made this dude up out of whole cloth. I’m honestly really proud of how he came out.)

#Dropout uses a mix of style matching and full replacement, with the choice between the two being determined by a number of factors. To illustrate that decision-making process, let’s break down the process of redrawing a page of Shiori Experience, specifically the spread across pages 172 and 173 from Chapter 64.

Deciding between Style Match and Full Replacement

This is the original untranslated page, and there’s a lot going on.

In the background of the first panel is the sound of the band, バアアアン, phonetically translated as "BA-A-A-A-N", localized as “BWAAAM”. In the foreground is the cheering of the crowd, ボオワアアア, "BO-O-WA-A-A-A" phonetically, “ROOAAR” localized. Lastly, along the side of panels 3 through 6 is applause, パチ, "PA-CHI", “CLAP”.

At a glance, this page is overwhelming. The cheering sound effect is huge, with custom text effects conveying the energy of the crowd. Worse is the clapping, which overlays multiple panels with dozens of unique partially obscured faces. This looks like a pain in the ass to redraw, but in the end I decided to do a full replacement instead of a simpler style match. With the number and size of the SFX combined with the visual density of the panels, doing a style match would result in a cluttered unreadable mess. Too much of the original artwork would be covered, and there just isn’t enough space. So, full replacement.

The redrawing process

As I’ve gained more experience, it’s been surprising to learn what constitutes a difficult redraw. You’d expect crowd shots to be the hardest, with lots of unique faces and little details, but they actually aren’t that bad IMO. More detail means more context means less guessing. Definitely a lot of work, but not difficult. Meanwhile, something like a gradient or screentone pattern which looks simple is actually a goddamn nightmare to recreate, as we'll see later.

That’s why I started my redraw for this page with the clapping. Again, this looks like it would be really hard, but looks can be deceiving. There’s a lot of clapping, yes, but the text is thin and spaced out. Whiting out the text reveals just how little artwork is actually hidden by the sound effects.

After whiting out the original text, the next step is connecting as many existing lines as I can. I do the panel and bubble borders on a separate layer since they’re simple structural elements. The artwork itself requires a bit more thought. I need to examine the original artwork carefully to avoid connecting lines that shouldn’t be connected. Context can also provide guidance where there are no lines to connect, such as the cheering guy’s hat in the first panel, or the clapping hand in the second panel. Also, when there’s lots of little SFX like this it’s easy to miss a few lines, like the box thing near the bottom of the last panel (don’t worry I catch it later).

The last step is adding in all the inking and screentones, the pattern templates which fill in the “color” to the line work. I have to go through with the clone stamp tool, collect samples from the image, and extend the pattern to fill the blank areas. This is the most annoying step in the process for me, because it requires a level of precision even beyond what’s required for the line work. Humans are pattern-recognition machines. Our brains are really good at catching tiny discrepancies, like when a section of a pattern doesn’t quite line up with the rest of it. My patch job on this panel wasn’t perfect, and you can see where I couldn’t quite line things up in areas like the guy’s checkered shirt in the first panel.

And with that, this redraw is complete! Now it’s time to insert the English translation of the sound effect.

SFX Lettering

The clapping SFX is in that same brush font I pointed out earlier, which we use JollyLodger for. There’s no real perspective things or text effects here, so mimicking the original isn’t difficult. Here’s the before and after.

This approach of fully redrawing the old SFX before inserting the new SFX only works in situations like this, where the text is small and there’s enough detail to reconstruct the image with a high level of confidence. As an SFX gets larger, like the roar of a crowd, the harder it gets to fully replace. This calls for a different approach.

Because of the size and complexity of this sound effect, I decided to do the lettering first. This is the block font I identified earlier, which is replaced by Boogaloo. I do some basic manipulation right away, applying a black outline and distorting the text to create the same perspective effect as the original. The SFX in this series are subtly three-dimensional, and the replacement text needs to be in the same orientation to sell the effect.

I’m also being careful with my placement here, doing my best to align the new text with the old. This will be important later.

Next we need to recreate the distortion effect. Photoshop has functionality to mimic this kind of effect, but I opted to do it manually. Osada (the mangaka) does all these layouts, SFX and all, on paper. The original effect was hand drawn, so the replacement effect is hand drawn.

The lettering for this effect is now complete, and we can begin the redraw process. Since we already have the letters in place, we have the advantage of knowing exactly where a redraw is needed, turning what would otherwise have been an enormous replacement into a minor patch job. From here, it’s the same process as the clapping SFX: Raw, Blank, Line, Fill.

Minor sidebar: translating Japanese sound effects presents an interesting and incredibly niche problem. The katakana symbol オ is translated phonetically as “o”. The problem with that is that when you’re replacing a オ with an O in a sound effect, the hole of the O is positions right on the center of the オ. This makes オ really annoying to redraw. Every O turns into a little window of totally new art, with barely any reference points to draw from. It violates the principle of invisibility, but there’s really no way around it. You can see I got a little lazy here, and clonestamped a different section of the crowd into the hole. As long as I don’t draw attention to it nobody will notice. I hope.

Sidebar over. Just for fun, here’s the before and after for the whole page.

Closing thoughts

So that’s what it takes to do the sound effects for one page of Shiori Experience. This page alone took me multiple days to complete, and it wasn’t even the most complicated page in this chapter. It isn’t why our releases take so long (that can be laid at the feet of staffing and scheduling issues), but hopefully I’ve given you a sense of how much work goes into each new chapter.

This chapter would have taken even longer without the help of Adi and Bangistus, who pitched in on a lot of the smaller SFX. Up until now the lettering of this series has been a solo show, Toast all the way down. Now that Adi and Bang are on the team I’m still keeping most of the big pages for myself, but being able to toss to the others when I get overwhelmed is going to be invaluable. Hopefully I can rely on them in the future as well, there’s some big things coming down the pipe

This series is a labor of love. Sometimes frustrating, often exhausting, but always worth it. I owe this series a lot, and I hope it shows in the work I put into it. I think it would be fun to do more behind the scenes process content like this, so maybe keep an eye out for that in the future.

Lastly, just as a status update, #dropout is not dropping Shiori Experience.  We have a temporary translator who’s helping us put together Chapter 65, which will be coming out Eventually™. Not as long as last time, but like always don’t hold your breath. We’re not sure what will happen after 65 drops. We’re still desperately hiring for a main translator, seriously if you know anybody please hit me up.

That’s all from me. Take care y’all.

[troutfur]

Are you reading the Feline Wizards books? I’m thinking of getting the bundle but I’m not certain. Would you be open to sharing your thoughts on them?

Yes! I'm part of a book club with a few friends from WC Tumblr and they came up as a recommendation. Currently we are finishing To Visit the Queen and we were discussing diving right into The Big Meow instead of taking a pause as we usually do. (As an aside we don't only read cat books, our first book was in fact This is How You Lose the Time War but you can probably see how the kitty wizard books came up as something we'd all want to read.)

Feline Wizards is fantastic. I was afraid that it wouldn't be an accessible read standalone as it's a spinoff of Diane Duane's long-running Young Wizard series but The Book of Night With Moon perfectly sets up the world all its own in a very impressive and compact way. My biggest compliment is just how tightly paced the whole work is. Absolutely no word is wasted by the end.

I also found it very interesting how, despite being a book with a child as part of the protagonist ensamble and that it is clearly aimed at that sort of demographic at least to an extent, the adult characters are the focus. The kid more often than not seems more of a supporting role or even plot device. That's an unusual dynamic I appreciate and found very compelling.

I also enjoy how the worldbuilding of the wizards and the fact wizards of all species exist makes the world feel so vast. To Visit the Queen makes particular good of use with the introduction of the ravens of the Tower of London who although not full wizards still have some magic capabilities. It's neat and contributes to this overarching theme about how all life forms are valuable and special in their own way.

Also I'll say that if Warriors and its anti-domesticity messaging feels tiring you will definitely appreciate this one. Our primary PoV character is a pet cat and she loves her humans so much. Many a chapter have gotten me soft and wanting to hug my own kitties.

I will append though. This series can get rather silly. Not enough to undercut the seriousness of the plot but the animal wizards and time travel and dinosaurs and all the rest are there. Definitely be prepared for a story that really utilizes both the urban AND the fantasy of urban fantasy.

[scarlet--wiccan]

How did you feel about the ending of Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver and the reveal of Magneto's letter?

I'm going to start by saying that I still think that Orlando really struggles with endings. His final issues always feel disjointed and sloppy to me, and SW&Q #4 is no exception. My main takeaway from this issue is that everything made sense in theory-- each character's positions and responses felt coherent and I perfectly understood how Orlando was characterizing each relationship-- but not in practice, as the scenario itself was harder to follow and I don't think everyone's actions made sense.

My biggest problem is understanding why Magneto would write this letter in the first place, much less keep it under his floorboards, and why, after all of the growth he went through in Red and Resurrection, he would still say those things to the twins' faces. The Griever's scheme to use the letter is clever, in terms of emotional manipulation, but Orlando does little to disguise the fact that it is a heavy-handed plot contrivance that he's using to mine Magnet Family Drama™️ in a book that otherwise has little reason to concern itself with Magneto. By comparison, the Joseph storyline in Scarlet Witch was more well integrated into the main plot and was driven by a character who was strong enough to stand on his own feet, while simultaneously facilitating conversations about Wanda and Max's relationship. This simply does not measure up to me. It feels tacked on, and the twins' abrupt, stilted reunion with Magneto himself does nothing to assuage that feeling.

Generally speaking, though, this is exactly the type of toxicity I expect from Magneto, particularly post-HoM, and post-Children's Crusade. He is overprotective to a fault towards Wanda, and resentful and dismissive towards Pietro. This has been a pretty consistent setting for their "family" dynamic for at least a decade.

I've written about this several times, but that paternalism is something Wanda has a really hard time setting boundaries around. A lot of her loved ones, including Pietro himself, have been treating her this way for a very long time. It makes perfect sense to me that she would find Magneto's words destabilizing, especially given that she is starting the series in a place of unresolved grief. I also thought it was really smart that Wanda, who, for the first time in her life has the upper hand in almost all of her relationships, is mirroring those paternalistic behaviors towards Pietro. We saw it in Scarlet Witch (2023) #1, and we saw it here in SW&Q. These flaws are crucial to balancing out Wanda's character, now that she is so powerful and evolved, and I think they've been demonstrated very well.

Similarly, I think that the twins' explosive fight in #1 was perfectly in character. To me, this felt like a more well-realized and narratively justified version of the fight from Scarlet Witch (2015) #9. A lot of the same tensions are fears are coming to a boil, but here there is a more reasonable impetus, and again, reversing Wanda and Pietro's dynamic is a great way to dig up any flaws and simmering resentments in their relationship. As fans, we want them to have a healthy, loving relationship, and I think Orlando has shown, up to this point that they do, but when we look back at their history, we can see that they do have problems. I don't think either of them is a bad sibling, but this is an area where they can be challenged and still experience satisfying growth.

And I am satisfied, because ultimately, this challenge does not break them. Although he initially allows his temper and pettiness to get the best of him, Pietro finds the patience and empathy to put their fight to rest. He falters, but ultimately, he demonstrates the same growth and self-awareness that he achieved in Quicksilver: No Surrender. I thought it was a great moment for him, and again, I love that this is a reversal in the twins' usual dynamic-- Pietro is the one doing the bulk of the emotional labor.

Wanda, for her part, hesitates more than I would like, and I really do wish that she'd been quicker to come to Pietro's defense. Most of what they're talking about here is House of M, and for all of his faults, and for as horrible as the consequences may have been, Pietro is one of the only people who consistently acted in Wanda's best interest during that time. If this scene had been given more space to breathe, or if Orlando was just a little better at grounding his dialogue, perhaps Wanda would have been able to speak and acknowledge that fact.

I think that part Scarlet Witch & Quicksilver's goal was to settle Wanda and Pietro's past with Magneto-- the same way Darkhold settled Wanda's past with Chthon and ToM settled the Decimation-- and in doing so, strengthen and refresh their relationship in a way that reflects their current maturity and growth. In a lot of ways, it succeeds, and I do think that there is some real depth and great character work here, but those things are buried under choppy pacing and dialogue. The two competing storylines-- the family drama, and the introduction of the Griever -- feel disjointed, and the expansion of Wanda and Pietro's powers gets lost in the middle. It's a shame, because setting new benchmarks for their powers and setting new benchmarks for their relationship at the same time should feel really cohesive and exciting, but for me, it falls a little flat because almost every element is just slightly underdeveloped- every idea comes just short of being fully explored.

[selarina]

Out of Style

-> Suna Rintaro x Fem!Reader

Chapter 2: Digitial Duet

Summary: The following night, Suna can't help but find himself lured by your online persona.

Content Warnings: celebrity au, rockstar!suna rintaro, actress!reader, online interactions, band dynamics, fluff, sexual undertones, mention of smoking, character study, sensual imagery, eventual smut

Word Count: 1.7k words

Author's Note: I'm ngl lead singer!atsumu does things to me.... also, bonus points for you if you guess what osamu, aran and kita's roles are in the band

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3

Suna’s public account is filled with carefully curated images sent by his publicist, or sometimes it is simply just posted by a poor intern whose only job is analyzing and curating his online presence. He tried maintaining a sense of autonomy at first. After all, he only becomes a star after being on social media for quite a while. He quite liked it, the unseriousness of it all but too many sites have risen and fallen since then, and he’s realized he might be too old or too busy to get used to the new features.

So… Suna’s not one to spend a lot of time on social media, barring the one private Instagram account his sister, Reiko, set up for him. It’s private, it has the only photo ever posted on the account — a selfie of him and his sister from the same day she set the account up. She’s smiling at the camera, perfectly posed while he’s right behind her, his face is twisted, caught off guard. You could say he was objectively ugly in the photo.

Hmm? He stares down at the picture. Seems like he never really deleted it. He switches to his public account.

His eyes move to scan his phone screen for a brief second before he finds it. He’s still not used to how different everything is from the last time he used this app, and it’s only been two weeks. How can you change so much in so little time? And why would you even?

His finger taps to reach the search option, his fingers moving to type in your name. Immediately, he gets a list of results — a verified account on top with a profile picture of you. He looks at the rest of the accounts below yours, a list of fan accounts of you.

He clicks on your account.

When the screen finally opens, Suna is accosted by your familiar face, scattered across the range of tiny boxes.

He clicks on the first picture that catches his immediate eye, it’s a picture of you sitting outside an establishment. Your shoes are scattered beside you as you smile sweetly at the screen. He smiles.

Your profile actually looks like photos you are posting yourself, but well, so does his, he thinks. Frowning, he scrolls, and he scrolls. He feels like an intruder as his scrolling continues, but he can’t seem to stop for some reason. The photos are like a collection of your life — it’s full of photos of you, your friends, co-stars, your sister, and your cat. Sometimes, the occasional movie promotion, a fashion event, or something like that.

And then he stumbles upon it, it’s a photo of you wrapped in a blazer, as the rain pours in the foreground. And you — you’re twisting your head ever so slightly to address the camera directly with your eyes, and you manage to hold his eyes to yours for quite a well somehow. He can’t help but think if your lips are purposefully quirked with a ghost of a smile. He lingers far longer than he’d care to admit but eventually, he scrolls again, as one does.

Only to wash away his opinion of you, he says. Only to get accustomed and to get rid of this new feeling, he says.

He then stops at another picture, a promotional picture, but it’s not for your movie. It’s for this band. Scarlet Riot.

He remembers this band, during a meeting where his manager was very upset with the band for Scarlet Riot’s new single surpassing his band, Black Velvet’s single on the rankings. He remembers dozing off during the meeting and being forcefully woken up again, and again, and again until the manager had enough and sent him back home. He happily accepted.

He doesn’t know anything about Scarlet Riot, apart from the fact that they are apparently cut from the same cloth as his band but yes, he notices how there isn’t much visible. Not your face, not the guy’s face but he seems to be holding you and your very lightly covered body — just you in your bra, and your underwear to be candid.

The said faceless guy is clothed entirely with one hand grasping the small of your back, and the other one holding your leg up as you seem to lift it in tandem.

He immediately clicks off the post, switching to his official account as he searches for your profile.

His hands hover for a second over the send button before he clicks on it.

To be fair, he isn’t technically lying in his texts because he is now rewatching your movie to drown out the anticipation of your response, but at the moment he only had enough heed to hit send on the message then, and he didn’t know how long that would last.

He eyes his abandoned phone on the teak table in front of him, as he watches your movie. It currently has a conversation between two guys in the movie, and honestly, he couldn’t care less about them.

He couldn’t help it. He looked up the video, and he admits he can find himself agreeing with the rest of the 14 million people who seem to find the appeal. He pauses the video, and it pauses at a picture-worthy shot if he could say so himself — your eyes are heavy-lidded resulting in a sultry expression, akin to a languid panther moving through the tall grass, that makes something primal rake right beneath the confines of his body.

H clicks off from the video, turning off his phone as he unpauses your movie continuing to chomp on the rest of his pasta.

—

The next day, Suna found himself on auto-pilot making his way through the band's rehearsal studio. The place was cramped and confining — just as he secretly liked. It’s always overfilled with a diversified jumble of instruments, amps, and other recording equipment.

He adjusts his guitar strap as he began the process of plugging his instrument in. He’s early today, so it affords him the opportunity to observe as his bandmates and studio staff trickle in, one by one, as he sips on his coffee. He’s not usually a fan of hot beverages, preferring cooler, or lukewarm drinks but today, he needs the searing warmth to keep him from biting off his bandmates’ heads.

Atsumu, the drummer, finally saunters in with his signature impish grin that sent a surge of irritation coursing through Suna's veins. It’s just lack of sleep talking, he reassures himself as Atsumu takes a seat near him seating himself behind the drum set.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Atsumu quipped, his voice cutting through the studio's ambient hum Suna grew comfortable in.

Suna's retort was swift, a deadpan stare, as he took another sip. "Don't call me that.”

“Well, you look the part.” Atsumu remained undeterred, as he reclined against the seat, a smirk etched upon his features.

Suna doesn’t respond, his attention returning to the coffee cup, as he took another sip.

“Where's everyone else?” Suna set aside the guitar, carefully placing his chair as he weaved through to discard the now-empty cup into the bin.

"Aran’s out for a smoke. Osamu’s stuck in traffic, surprise surprise. Kita’s at a shoot. He should be late today," Atsumu replied.

Suna's response was a barely discernible hum as he sat back in his chair. He occupied himself with tuning his guitar, his fingers moving with practiced familiarity, attuned to the nuances of each string.

They continued to wait in silence, Atsumu’s soft humming withheld. Not that Suna particularly took issue with it, in fact, it was a bit soothing to exist in his space, until Atsumu spoke again that is.

"So, you seemed to have an interesting night.” Atsumu's tone was teasing, his words laden with an underlying implication that Suna found distinctly annoying.

A warning glint flickered through Suna's eyes, his response lax but firm. "No idea what you’re talking about."

Atsumu leaned back against his seat, a smile playing on his lips. "Oh, come on now. We all saw you last night. Never knew you could physically bring yourself to smile."

Suna's eyes narrowed. “We were just talking.”

Atsumu barely hummed in response, but Suna’s annoyance seemed to seep back under his skin – he didn't want to engage in this conversation, especially not with Atsumu, who generally had a talented knack for pushing his buttons early in the morning.

Atsumu waggled his eyebrows as they raise up. "So, what kind of talkin' were ya doin', hmm?"

Suna shot a sharp look at Atsumu, his fingers pausing his task on the guitar. "None of your business."

“Okay,” Atsumu responds and Suna’s relieved. For all his many complaints about Atsumu, he truly does know how to read people, and as much as he seemed to like pushing boundaries, he never truly seemed to cross them.

“Just be careful,” Atsumu speaks up, Atsumu's tone was tinged with a rare sincerity. Suna finds it a bit too jarring like he’s an alternate reality.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just — Relationships with other people like us never truly work out, ya know.”

“I know,” Suna responds, as his eyes flit down to his guitar. Suna's fingers slipped on the strings, creating a dissonant sound.

Atsumu sighs as his voice comes out in a subdued murmur, “I should know better than anyone,” before Osamu's voice carries from outside to inside the studio, disrupting the momentary exchange.

Osamu walks through pushing the entry door as he stomps over to where they are.

“Get off my seat, ya imp,” he says, tossing his back to the side before he proceeds to push Atsumu off the chair, and almost like he was slapped out of it — Atsumu’s back to his usual self as his hands rise up to pull Osamu’s hair.

At the backdrop of the familiar dance between Osamu and Atsumu, Suna pulls out of his phone and the muted buzz against his thigh.

Ping! His eyes flit up to the top of his phone. It’s you. He clicks on the notification.

yn_ln : sorry i passed out but wow, flattery and a movie review?

yn_ln : i'm honored

Suna smirks as he taps on the screen. His fingers seem to type out a reply before he's even fully aware of it.

[minminyoonjii]

Stray Love Haven Day 31 : [OT8/Fem! Reader]

🔗https://archiveofourown.org/works/42120486

💗Series Masterlist

🌹CW Orgy|Creampies|Messy Sex|Cum Swallowing|Slight Hint of Size Difference|Manhandling|Spit Roasting|Blow Jobs|Cum Facials|69|Cum Play|Vaginal Penetration|Vaginal Fingering|Multiple Orgasms|Dynamics Play|Praise Kink|Dirty Talking|Subspace|Slight Hint of Body Worship|Domestic Setting|Oral Fixation|Rough Sex|Full Aftercare

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 5.5K

"Wakey wakey," Felix whispered, running his fingers through your hair. You whined, curling up deeper within the blankets "Too early," you sulked. Felix chuckled at your muffled whines "Come on, it's time to wake up," he said, tracing your sides. You pursed your lips "No, it's cold outside," you huffed. Felix cooed, "You don't want to be late for breakfast, do you? Minho hyung made your favourite," he coaxed, gently removing the blanket off your face.

You rubbed your eyes, wolf plush tucked under your arm "Good morning, sunshine," he chuckled, shifting you on his lap. You rested your head on his shoulder, lazily fiddling with his sleeves "What did he make?" you yawned, feeling more awake with each passing minute. "Pancakes with extra whipped cream," Chan said, walking in. Felix glared at Chan "You're lucky I heard your footsteps earlier, hyung. I could've died from a heart attack," he complained, tightening his hold around you.

You giggled, "You're being dramatic, Yongbokkie," you said, poking his cheek. Felix pursed his lips "Sweetheart, this house is full of drama queens," he pointed out, pinching your cheek. You whined, turning your gaze to Chan "Appa, help me," you whimpered, jutting your bottom lip. Chan chuckled "He's not wrong, little one," he said, removing Felix's hand from your cheek. You huffed, crossing your arms "That doesn't mean my cheek deserved such abuse," you grumbled.

Felix kissed your cheeks "Who's the one being dramatic now?" he teased, cupping your face. You groaned, "All of us, now can we please go down for breakfast?" you asked, squirming out of Felix's hold. Chan chuckled, lifting you up "Took you long enough," he said, carrying you down the stairs. "There's our princess," Minho said, setting the plates on the table. You yawned, waving at him. Minho chuckled "Are you still sleepy, princesa?" he asked, kissing your nose.

Your eyes widened "Princesa?" you questioned, looking up at Chan to see if you heard wrong. Minho rolled his eyes "Sungie wanted to watch the new Dreamworks movie. I may have picked up a few things," he explained. You nodded "That makes sense," you said, feeling your blood rush up to your cheeks. Minho chuckled, "Looks like our princess liked it more than she thought," he smirked, letting Chan set you down on the stool.

You averted his gaze, "I do not," you said, taking a bit of your breakfast. Chan raised an eyebrow "Little one do you have a thing for accents?" he asked, licking his lips. You couldn't retort even if you tried, your burning cheeks answered his question. Jisung cooed, "Are you embarrassed, kitten?" he teased, knowing fully well you were. You grumbled, stuffing your cheeks with the pancakes "Slow down, little one. You're going to choke," Changbin said, rubbing your back.

You slowed your pace, taking your time with each bite "I'm sorry," you mumbled, whipped cream smeared across your lips. Changbin chuckled, "It's fine," he said, swiping his thumb across your lips and tasting the cream on it. Hyunjin grimaced "Hyung there's a perfectly good tissue right in front of you," he said, wrinkling his nose. Changbin smirked "And?" he asked, raising his eyebrow. Hyunjin pursed his lips "Touché," he said, taking a bit of his pancake.

Changbin chuckled, "Take a bite, baby," he said, feeding you a piece of strawberry. You hummed, chewing the fruit. "Does anyone have any plans for later?" Felix asked, cutting a slice of butter for his breakfast. Jisung shook his head "Not really, I just planned to stay at home," he said, pushing back his bangs. Minho hummed "Me too," he said, bringing his plate to the sink. You followed behind Minho, wearing the dishwashing gloves he handed you.

"Do you have any plans today, princess?" he asked, setting the dishes you washed on the dish rack. You pondered for a bit "I don't think so," you mumbled, taking off the gloves. Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist "The rest don't have plans either," he said, mouthing against your earlobe. You squirmed, "Alpha," you whined, letting Jisung pull you closer to his chest. Hyunjin chuckled, "You aren't starting without us are you?" he asked, cutting into his pancakes.

Jisung gasped, trailing his hand down your stomach "Of course not," he said, faking a smile. Changbin rolled his eyes "Don't rile her up, Han-ah," he warned, finishing his breakfast. You moaned, head clouding from the way they were talking about you. Chan chuckled, "So much for that warning," he said, locking eyes with you, You whimpered, feeling smaller under their gazes. "What's wrong, kitten?" Jisung asked, kissing down your neck.

You shivered, "Alpha, please," you keened, hands gripping the kitchen counter. Felix cooed, tilting your chin "So desperate already," he smirked, stroking your cheek. You whined, feeling Jisung's growing bulge press against your clothed folds "Please," you cried, hands trembling as you tighten your grip. Chan walked towards you, he held your jaw, forcing you to look up at him "Do you think you can take all of us, little one?" he asked, towering over you.

You nodded vigorously, "I can, pl-please let me," you stuttered, letting yourself slip into subspace. Chan sighed, "Open your mouth," he commanded, spitting on your tongue. You moaned, feeling physically smaller with each command. Chan kissed your nose "Good girl," he praised, taking his plate to the sink. Jisung licked up your neck "Does our sweet kitten want to please us all?" he asked. You mewled, "Yes, yes, yes," you babbled, staring up at Jisung with your dazed eyes.

Jisung chuckled, "Eager little kitty aren't you?" he said, rubbing the back of your neck. You shivered, leaning into his touches. Jisung manhandled you over his shoulder, "Innie-ah, pull out the sofa bed," he said, rubbing the backs of your thighs. Your head spun, barely a thought running through your mind as Jisung laid you on the sofa. "Princesa, come back to us," Minho said, snapping his fingers.

You blinked your eyes, focusing on the sound "Sir?" you asked, feeling a familiar weight of warmth envelope your body. Minho hummed, rubbing your hips "Tell everyone your safe word, princess," he said, coaxing you out of your headspace for a second. You furrowed your eyebrows "Levanter," you whispered, tilting your head. Minho chuckled, "Can I remove your clothes?" he asked, kissing the top of your palm.

"Yes please," you whispered, giving him verbal consent. Minho cooed, "Such a sweet girl," he praised, removing your clothes. Jeongin stroked your cheek, placing the wolf plush between your arms "I can tell that you're slipping into nonverbal territory noona. If you can't say your verbal safeword, throw the plush away," he said, giving you a spiderman kiss. "Okay," you said, holding the plush close to your chest.

"What's the order this time?" Changbin asked, giving you a light peck. "Oldest to youngest," Seungmin said, jumping in. "It was youngest to oldest last time, might as well switch it up a bit," he added, racking his eyes down your curves. Chan sank his knee between your legs "Is that alright with you, little one?" he asked, kissing your inner thighs. You gasped, legs quivering under his caresses "Yes, appa," you mewled.

Chan cooed, marking hickeys onto your skin. Leaving blooming spots of purplish-red "You bruise so easily, baby girl," he groaned, watching as your once untainted skin became littered with marks. You felt yourself clench around nothing, folds slicked with arousal. Your clit throbbed from the foreplay, and each bite changed from pain to pleasure. Chan chuckled, "Adorable," he said, smiling at your bliss-filled expression.

You whimpered, nails digging into the plush "Appa fuck me, please," you keened, spreading your legs further. Chan's breath hitched, and his mouth watered at the sight of your folds pulsing "Appa's going to breed you, little one. Wouldn't you like that, filled with our cum dripping down your cunt?" he growled, swiping his fingers down your slit. You whined, "Little one wants to be bred, pl-please," you begged, tears brimming your eyelashes.

"Fuck," Jisung gasped, after hearing your words. Chan ran his fingers through his hair "Our sweet little cum slut," he growled, smacking your clit in one clean swat. You cried, arching your back at the sting "A-ah," you choked up. Chan stroked his cock, head throbbing with precum dripping past the slit "You're going to be a good girl for us, aren't you?" he groaned, slicking his cock with your fluids. You whimpered, rutting your hips "Yes, yes, yes. I'll b-be your good girl," you babbled.

Chan wrapped his arms under your thighs, pressing your knees towards your chest "So fucking tiny," he cursed, pressing his cock into your hole. Your jaw slacked, forming a perfect oval as Chan bottomed out. "Chris," you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck. Chan chuckled, peppering soft kisses on your skin "You're absolutely gorgeous," he whispered, letting you adjust to his girth. Your walls fluttered around his cock, slick aiding to the stretch.

"I could stay buried in you for hours," Chan admitted, rolling his hips with languid thrusts. You shuddered, feeling his warmth pressed against your skin. His eyes hold nothing but adoration and love just for you. "Let me worship you, little one," he whispered, quickening his pace. Moans split past your lips, "Appa," you gasped, noticing the subtle bulge under your skin. Chan growled, sinking deeper into you "Fuck baby girl," he hissed, getting more erratic with his thrusts.

You clenched around his cock, thighs trembling under his bruising grip "So good," you slurred, panting for air. Chan groaned, pressing his forehead against yours. He reached his hand between your legs, flicking your clit with each thrust "Cum for appa, little one," he growled, seeing your face contort with pleasure. You cried, cumming around his throbbing cock "Fuck, fuck, fuck," you cursed, thrashing under him.

Chan grunted, fucking your hole with more vigour "Oh god," he choked up, hips stuttering as he came. The veins on his neck protruded, sweat beading his skin. You whimpered, feeling his hot semen coat your walls white. Chan ran his fingers through his hair, "Our precious girl," he praised, hissing when he pulled out of your dripping pussy. Minho wrapped his arms around Chan's waist, "That she is," he hummed.

Chan chuckled, kissing Minho's cheek "Give our princess the pleasure she deserves, yeah?" he said, letting Minho take his place between your legs. You shivered, nuzzling into the wolf plush "She's so cute," Felix gasped, grinding his cock on Seungmin's thigh. Minho cooed, stroking your cheek "She absolutely is," he hummed, watching you leaning into his palm. You mewled, clenching your hole, causing Chan's cum to ooze down your perineum.

"Oh fuck," Hyunjin whimpered, palming his aching cock confined under his boxers. Minho gulped, licking his lips "Sir's going to take good care of you," he sighed, lining his cock with your hole. You nodded, biting onto the ear of the plush as Minho pushed his cock into you inch by inch. "M-mh," you whimpered, soaking the plush in drool. Minho groaned, tilting his head back "Fucking hell, princesa," he cursed, feeling overwhelmed by the sight of his cock disappearing into your body.

You stared back at Minho with half-lidded eyes, rolling your hips with his cock buried within you. Minho grunted, snapping his hips "Stay still, princess," he gritted, hovering over you. "Sir," you mewled, tears dripping down the corners of your eyes. Minho groaned, "Pretty girl," he said, kissing your tears away. He kissed down your cheek, meeting your lips. You giggled, seeing Minho grimace when his lips met the fabric of the plush.

"Lower the wolf," he sulked, nipping your neck. You moaned, parting your lips with a dopey smile. Minho smirked, pulling you in for a deep kiss. "F-fuck," he cursed through a parting, nipping your bottom lip. You panted, staring into Minho's eyes. Minho chuckled, rutting his hips "Now let me fuck you as you deserve, princesa," he smirked, thrusting his hips at a steady tempo.

You cried, arching your back "Oh," you sobbed, body quivering from each stroke of Minho's cock massaging your inner walls. Minho grunted, gripping your v-line as his tempo turned erratic. A silent scream escaped your lips. The sofa shifted, leaving black skid marks on the marble floor. Minho gritted his teeth, chasing his high "Cum with me, princess," he groaned, pounding into your sopping pussy.

Your muscles tightened, clenching desperately around his cock "Minho," you wailed, thighs tremoring. Minho moaned, emptying himself inside you "Fuck, princess," he rasped, feeling your walls throb around him, milking every last drop of his semen. You sniffled, muffling your sounds behind the plush. Minho cupped your cheeks, "Why are you crying, sweet thing?" he whispered, coaxing you down from your high. You shuddered, shrugging at his question.

Minho cooed, "You're so cute," he hummed, clenching his jaw as he pulled out. "Should we stop here, little one?" he asked, running his fingers through your hair. You shook your head, "Want all of you," you pouted, peeking through the plush. Changbin tilted your chin, making you face him "We can take a short break before continuing," he said, tapping the tip of the water bottle on your lips. You drank the water eagerly, not realizing that you were parched.

Changbin chuckled, "The water isn't going anywhere, little one," he cooed, letting you finish the whole bottle. You sighed, stretching your joints "Daddy?" you whispered, poking Changbin's thigh. He kissed the top of your hand "What is it, baby?" he asked, giving you his full attention. You pursed your lips "Kiss me please," you said, averting your gaze. Changbin stroked your cheek, leaning forward as he kissed your lips.

You melted into the kiss, closing your eyes just to immerse yourself in the feeling of his lips against yours. Changbin pulled away "Are you ready?" he asked, kissing your nose. You wrinkled your nose, nodding "Please fuck me, daddy," you whispered, keeping eye contact with him. Changbin grunted, manhandling you on your stomach "I saw your expression when Han-ah lifted you on his shoulder. You like being tossed around don't you? Our beautiful helpless little girl," he teased, tracing his finger down the dip of your spine.

"Daddy," you whined, burying your face into the plush. Changbin chuckled, groping your plump ass "Is daddy being too mean?" he hummed, spanking your flesh. You growled, arching your back "Don't tease," you huffed, swaying your hips. Changbin laid another spank "Behave little one," he warned, slicking his cock between your folds. You sulked, "But you're taking too long," you whimpered, rutting your clit against Changbin's cock.

Changbin sighed, spreading your cheeks "You're lucky we're spoiling you today, little one" he chuckled, holding the base of his cock. You mewled, clawing your nails into the sofa "So full," you slurred, letting Changbin's cock stretch your pussy further. He hissed, "Fuck baby, you're still so tight," he grunted, rolling his hips. You moaned, tension coiling in your abdomen "Da-daddy, please," you whined, skin prickles with arousal.

Changbin pressed his weight on your back, pinning you beneath him "Daddy's got you, little one," he growled, setting a merciless rhythm. You cried, writhing under Changbin's firm torso "Ah, ah, ah," you babbled, face growing hot. Changbin groaned, licking his lips "Fuck," he shuddered, enjoying the way you respond to his touch. Muffled strangled noises echoed within the room. Your eyes rolled back, getting closer to the brink.

"F-fuck, cum for daddy, little one," he growled, knees buckling as you clenched around him. You cried, coming undone, adding more fluids into the mix. Changbin locked his jaw, spilling himself into you "God," he cursed, kissing the back of your neck. Your walls spasmed, shockwaves gripping your body. Changbin moaned, slowly easing himself out of your warmth. You whined, pressing your cheek against the sofa "Cuddle," you sulked, making grabby hands towards him.

Changbin chuckled, pulling you onto his lap "Such a cuddle bug," he cooed, rubbing your back. You nuzzled into his neck, kissing his skin. Changbin groaned, "You're dripping, baby doll," he said, spreading your thighs over his. You whined, cheeks flushing red "Binnie," you sulked, jutting your bottom lip. Changbin laughed, "I'm sorry, little one," he cooed, hooking his biceps under your knees. "You're driving us insane, noona," Jeongin moaned, shamelessly staring at your gaping pussy.

Hyunjin walked towards you, cupping your cheeks "Can I kiss you, baby?" he whispered, licking his lips. You nodded, gasping as Hyunjin pulled you in for a messy kiss. Lowly groans split into the make-out, and spit dribbled down your chins. Hyunjin pulled away, cock throbbing against his abdomen "Mommy, please let me fuck you," he whimpered, precum dripping onto your clit from the angle. You bite your bottom lip "Fuck mommy like you mean it, darling," you rasped, clenching around nothing.

"Yes, yes. I will," Hyunjin moaned, sinking between your folds in one quick thrust. Changbin tightened his grip, locking you in place. He kissed down your neck, smirking against your skin as Hyunjin pounded his cock from the get-go. You wailed, holding onto the plush for dear life "Hgh ah, ah," you sputtered, pleasure buzzing under your skin. Hyunjin whimpered, "You're so wet, mo-mommy," he choked up, plunging his cock at a brutal pace.

The knot in your abdomen began to coil "So close," you sniffed, walls fluttering around Hyunjin's throbbing cock. Hyunjin chased his high with frantic thrusts "Please mommy, cum around my cock. Want to feel you clench around me. Please," he begged, cock twitching within your walls. You bit into your lip, tasting blood on your tongue as the knot snapped. Hyunjin grunted, panting heavily "Fuck," he keened, feeling your body convulse against his.

Your eyes rolled back from the intensity of your orgasm overtaking you. Hyunjin whined, cumming after you "Ah, fuck," he rasped, hips jerking. You mewled, blinking away the stray tears spilling down your cheeks "Hyunnie," you whispered, sniffling. Hyunjin pampered kisses all over your face "Mommy," he whispered back, pulling himself out of your cum filled hole. You giggled, squirming from his affection "It tickles," you said, panting for air.

Jisung nipped Hyunjin's shoulder, leaving a semi-deep indent "Hurry up," he huffed, licking the bite mark. Hyunjin hissed, glaring at Jisung "You could've just pulled me away, gently," he huffed, crossing his arms. Jisung chuckled, "I'm sorry, princess," he said, nudging Hyunjin towards Minho. He smiled, focusing his attention back on you "Are you feeling alright, kitten?" he asked, rubbing your thighs. You whimpered, cum spilling onto the sofa below "Yes," you mewled.

"Our sweet kitty is slowly losing it isn't she," he teased, stroking his length. You nodded, vision blurring from the tears "Al-alpha," you stuttered, sticking out your tongue. Jisung cooed, "Aww, does my kitten want me to cum on her face instead?" he asked, quickening his strokes. You panted, hoping to catch Jisung's cum on your tongue. Drool dribbling down the tip of your tongue. Jisung hissed, pumping his cock at the sight of your lewd expression "Fucking hell, I'm going to keep this memory ingrained in my head," he growled, cockhead throbbing as he fucked his fist.

You moaned, spilling more cum from your gaping pussy. Jisung's knees buckled when he noticed "Oh fuck," he gritted, aiming his cock at your face. You parted your lips, gasping for air with half-lidded eyes. Jisung groaned, pressing his hand beside your head "You look so fucking good, kitten," he chuckled, getting closer to the edge. Changbin sighed behind your nape "Beg for him, little one," he whispered, keeping his gaze on Jisung's frantic jerks.

You sniffled, holding the plush on your stomach "Pl-please cum on my face, alpha. Want to taste your cum so badly," you choked up, furrowing your eyebrows. Jisung's breath hitched, hearing his heart race within his chest "Fuck, kitty," he whined, letting out a stuttered breath. Your body quivered at his tone "Jisung," you cried out, desperately needing his warmth on your skin. Jisung arched his back, whimpering as he came. Coating your face and collarbones with his cum.

Changbin nipped your ear "What must you say, baby?" he hummed, rubbing circles on your thigh. You mewled, "Thank you. alpha," you said, swallowing his load. Jisung swiped his fingers on your face "Open up," he commanded, slipping his fingers into your mouth. You preened, swirling your tongue around them, and sucking his fingers eagerly. Jisung pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, inhaling deeply through his nostrils. You flatted your tongue, swallowing with your mouth agape.

Felix chuckled, "That's enough teasing, sweetheart," he said patting your cheek. Jisung blinked, shaking his head "You're dangerous for my heart and cock, kitten," he mumbled, wiping his cum slicked hand with a wet wipe. Felix snorted, rolling his eyes "Hyung you seemed a bit bothered over there," he said, gesturing to Changbin's hardening cock. He grunted, "I'm sorry, little one," he whispered, burying his face into your hair.

You frowned "It's fine, daddy," you reassured, kissing his forehead. Changbin smiled, nuzzling your neck "Thank you, baby," he whispered. You pursed your lips "Sir, can I suck daddy's cock while you fuck me?" you asked, giving Felix your biggest puppy eyes. "Such a precious girl," he praised, stroking your cheek. "Of course, you can, sunshine," he added. Changbin released his grip from your thighs "Stretch your legs, little one," he said, after hearing you groan from the dull soreness.

Felix carried you while Changbin repositioned himself on the sofa "Hyung looks hot, doesn't he?" he teased, biting your cheek. You nodded, seeing Changbin's cock twitch against his abdomen. Felix chuckled, setting you back down "Get in position, sunshine," he hummed, rubbing your hips. You immediately straddled Changbin's shoulders "Is this alright, daddy?" you asked, arching your back

Changbin groaned, staring right into your folds "Absolutely perfect, little one," he growled, tracing down your slit. Your thighs trembled, threatening to close but Changbin wrapped his biceps around them "Relax baby, you're in good hands," he said, keeping you in place. You whined, pressing your nose against his cock "Sir, hurry," you pleaded, kissing the base of Changbin's girth. Felix chuckled, pressing the tip of his cock into your pussy "So bratty," he hummed, sinking deeper slowly.

Your mouth slacked, flicking your tongue into Changbin's slit. Savouring the musk on your taste buds. Changbin grunted, having a front-row seat of Felix's cock penetrating your wet hole. With each drag of Felix's cock, more cum oozed onto his face. You moaned, wrapping your lips around Changbin's cock. Your tongue moved rapidly and lightly, teasing his throbbing cock head. Felix growled, stuffing your hole open "This is better than any wet dream I've ever had," he groaned, carving for pleasure with a hungry haze.

You choked around Changbin's cock, drawing a loud cry from his lips. Felix chuckled, gripping your hips, adding more bruises to your skin "Just like that, sweetheart," he grunted, feeling his gut tighten. Changbin hissed, darting his pointed tongue towards your neglected clit. You screamed, only for it to be muffled by Changbin's girth filling your mouth. Felix tilted his head back, your walls clenching around his length "Fuck, sunshine you're doing so well," he slurred.

Changbin bucked his hips, fucking your throat "Close," he growled, quickening his thrusts. You gagged, letting Changbin use your throat, penetrating past your throat barrier with a loud pop. Felix gasped, goosebumps running up his body "Same," he panted, losing composure. You whimpered, heat spreading under your skin. Changbin groaned, sucking on your clit as he came. You closed your eyes, swallowing his cum as much as you could. Felix whined, flooding your walls with his semen right after "I've wanted this for so long," he shuddered

Changbin nipped on your aching bud, pushing you over the edge. You cried, pulling off Changbin's cock. Cum, spit and tears overwhelmed your senses as you slumped against Changbin's hips. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Felix keened, hips trembling from your walls clenching around him. Overstimulation buzzed under his skin, burning from the pleasure. He pulled out, causing more cum to coat Changbin's face. "God I can't get hard again," Felix whimpered, lifting you off Changbin.

"Me too," Changbin rasped, wiping the cum off his face. Seungmin grimaced "You're going to smell like sex for days, hyung," he said, kissing down your arm. Changbin chuckled, "Worth it," he said, joining the other members. Seungmin kissed your chest, wrapping his lips around your hardened nipple. You whimpered, finding comfort in the plush pressed near your cheek. Seungmin groaned, marking your chest with more hickeys "God, you're beautiful," he sighed, sinking to his knees.

He hooked your calves over his shoulder "Stare into my eyes while I fuck back the cum dripping past your cunt, little love. Don't keep your eyes off me or you're going to regret it," Seungmin growled, plunging two into your walls. You wailed, locking eyes with Seungmin's lust-driven ones. He chuckled, curling his fingers against your g-spot "That's it, take all of it," he grunted, adding another finger to the mix.

Your body convulsed, hands scrambling to grip something. Seungmin smirked, fucking the cum pooling in your hole. Filthy squelching echoed within the room, "Cum for your liege, little dove," he commanded, rubbing your clit in tandem with his thrust. You screamed, back arching off the sofa as you squirted. Seungmin kept his rhythm forcing another orgasm from you. "En-enough," you whimpered, your body still quivering from the intensity.

Seungmin continued his assault "Do you need your safe word?" he asked, bringing you to the edge once more. You shook your head recklessly "N-no but my liege," you cried, clawing your nails into the sofa. Seungmin hummed, "Just one more, little dove," he rasped, pumping his fingers with desperation lacing each thrust. Your jaw locked into a silent scream, squirting all over Seungmin's face and arm. He shuddered, gently removing his fingers from your dripping cunt "Our obedient girl," he praised, bringing you down from your high. You sulked, tears dripping down your cheeks "Minnie," you whined, crying freely. Seungmin's eyes widened "Was I too much?" he asked, kissing your cheeks. You shook your head "Just hold me," you sniffled, listening to his heartbeat. Seungmin rubbed your back "You're safe. Cry if you need," he whispered, rocking your body. You let out a shaking breath, grounding yourself in Seungmin's warmth. Jeongin poked your cheek "Drink up, noona," he whispered, tilting the bottle of water. You drank slowly, gradually gaining back your senses. "Do you want to stop here, noona?" Seungmin asked, stroking your cheek. You shook your head "No I can take it, please," you pleased, dragging your nails down Seungmin's chest. Jeongin placed a pillow under your head as Seungmin laid you back down on the sofa.

He stood up, wrapping his hands around Jeongin's cock "Since you asked so nicely," he hummed, pumping Jeongin's length with vigour. Jeongin moaned, aching to be touched since the beginning "I'm not going to last long," he growled, bucking his hips into Seungmin's fist. You mewled, shakily moving your thighs apart "Please master," you whimpered. Jeongin groaned at the sight, gripping Seungmin's shoulder "Fuck, I'm going to cum," he grunted, aiming his cockhead in front of your pulsing pussy.

Seungmin twisted his fist around Jeongin's tip, "Go ahead," he encouraged, milking Jeongin's cock as he came. Coating your clit and inner tights with his orgasm. Jeongin slumped next to you, catching his breath "Sweet noona," he whispered, nuzzling your chest. Seungmin tugged his cock with a few strokes "Fuck," he growled, adding his cum to the mix. Chan ran his hand up Seungmin's nape "Good boy," he praised, causing more cum to squirt past his slit.

You giggled, "Appa," you squeaked, letting Chan carry you. Jeongin whined, "Noona was so warm," he grumbled, sitting up. Chan chuckled "You can cuddle with her later," he said, bringing you up the stairs. Jisung cooed, kissing your temple "Come one, kitten. The tub is filled with bubbles just for you," he said, testing the temperature of the water once more. Chan laid you down in the tub gently, letting you get used to the warm water.

"Appa is going to wash your wolf, yeah? You can play with it once it's out from the dryer," he said, taking the wolf from you. You frowned, wanting to protest but eventually allowed Chan to go wash the poor fluid-stained wolf. Jisung chuckled, washing the dry flacking cum off your skin "Did you have fun today?" he asked, blowing a bubble in your direction. You nodded, putting a lump of bubbles on your hair "Fun," you repeated, mindlessly playing with the soap suds.

Changbin walked in setting a towel on the bathroom sink "I don't think a single thought is running through her head," he cooed, booping you nose. You squealed, trying to bite Changbin's finger. He chuckled, handing you a silicon teether "Bite on this, little one," he said, pinching your cheek. You whined, sinking your teeth into the teether. Minho peeked his head in "Her clothes are prepared, they're on Channie hyung's bed," he said, before heading back down.

Jisung rinsed the excess soap off your body, cleaning your skin in and out "Squeaky clean," he said, wrapping the towel around your shoulders. Changbin guided you to the toilet "You need to pee first, baby," he chuckled, drying your hair. You did as told, cleaning your folds with the bidet. "Don't forget your teeth, kitten," Jisung said, handing you a brush with toothpaste. You grumbled, brushing your teeth on autopilot. Changbin chuckled "Good girl," he praised.

"Now, you're squeaky clean," Jisung cooed, carrying you to Chan's room. Changbin placed your hand on his shoulder "One leg in, little one," he said, pulling up your shorts. Jisung chuckled, "Arm's up," he said, dressing you up in an oversized hoodie. Warmth filled your senses, lazily chewed on the teether. "Aww, is our little sunshine, feeling sleepy?" Felix asked, rubbing your cheek. You nodded, rubbing your eyes.

He cooed, "There's a surprise downstairs just for you, sweetheart. Let's go see," he said, letting you wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you down. "Woah," you whispered, eyes sparkling at the sight of dim fairy lights decorating the whole wall. Chan chuckled "Do you like it?" he asked, kissing your nose. You nodded, "Pretty," you said, taking in the sight. Chan pulled out something from behind his back "Ta-da, he's all clean now," he said, handing you the wolf.

You gasped "Wolfie," you gurgled, still chewing on the teether. Hyunjin cooed, "Come lie down," he whined, patting the spot next to him. Felix rolled his eyes fondly, setting you down. You crawled over to Hyunjin, nuzzling into his warmth "Hyunnie," you squeaked, playing with his fingers. He laughed, pampering kisses all over your face "Cutie," he said back. Minho placed a plate of cut fruits in front of you "Eat up, princesa," he said, poking an apple slice.

You placed the teether aside, taking a bite of the fruit. Jeongin covered your legs with a thick weighted blanket "Comfy, baby?" he asked, adding more pillows to the sofa. You hummed, eating the fruits with shaking fists. Chan chuckled, brushing your damp hair "Where did you learn that from, little one?" he asked, rubbing your nape. You giggled, swallowing your fruits "From appa!" you cheered, pressing your head against his abs.

Chan cooed, "When have you seen me do that?" he gasped, poking your cheek. You laughed, "Appa does it every time," you said, crossing your arms. Chan hummed, "Appa's being silly, isn't he?" he said, tickling your sides. You squealed, squirming away "No, appa not silly," you laughed, curling into Hyunjin's lap. Chan chuckled, pulling you in for a light peck "Precious," he said, letting your snuggle against Hyunjin.

Felix stood by the kitchen counter, watching his members coddle you with all the love and comfort you deserve "How was it stay?" he asked, breaking the fourth wall. He smirked "They called me Pixie for a reason you know," he said, staring into the screen. Felix sighed, "Every love confession from us is sincere, I hope you'll find someone or more who'll show you the same," he said, taking a sip of water. He smiled, "Wishing you a wonderful new year, stay," he said, setting his glass down.

"Pixie come on, we need your vote on what movie we're watching," Jisung shouted, gesturing him over. Felix gasped, "Do I not get a say in the movie choice?" he asked, walking towards the sofa. Chan chuckled, pulling him onto his lap "Unfortunately, no," he teased, nuzzling Felix's neck. Jisung shuddered "I hate that word," he grumbled, taking a bite of the brownies Felix prebaked. Felix sighed, "Fine, my vote goes to…" he dragged. Jeongin groaned, "Hyung," he scolded. Felix chuckled, "My vote goes to Stray Love Haven," he said, curling up into Chan's embrace.

Jisung smiled, "Good choice," he said, clicking on the play button.

[evilsoup]

so like i know isekai is primarily associated with stories about how some nerd gets hit by a truck and the reincarnated into a d&d-derived fantasy world where people literally have "levels" and skill points but the protagonist has some cheat superpower that lets him beat up the bad guys and accumulate a harem of questionably of-age catgirls, elves, etc, at least one of which refers to him as "big brother" -- and deservedly so -- but there are actually some real gems in the genre, like the short and sweet 1999 series "now and then, here and now".

This is the story of Shu, a headstrong shonen protagonist (big-hearted, quick to charge in to fight for someone who's asked for his help, a bit simple but makes up for it with enthusiasm and fearlessness) who is living an unremarkable and comfortable life as a child in a small town in japan with conflicts like "my friend is annoyed at me because i don't take our kendo club seriously enough". He comes to the rescue of a quiet blue-haired girl who is being attacked by bad guy with futurey robots, and gets transported to a vast desert dominated by a bloated sun in which water is scarce, and gets forcibly recruited into an army of child soldiers (after being tortured for days, maybe weeks, to determine that he doesn't have the information the army needs).

The brutality of the world he finds himself in is a remarkably real-feeling depiction. There's a recurring "protector-protected" character dynamic of in which the protector character takes on the role of sheltering another and so is able to cope with the horrors they have experienced; we also see implied former relations of this kind which the "protected" character clearly chafed at and acted to get out of, as well as an example of the total failure of the protector-character who therefore can only long for revenge (and this is portrayed sympathetically), and of course the making-use of these relations by the army.

Unmarked spoilers from here, and trigger warning for child abuse including rape, as well as pretty unflinching depictions of massacres.

If you speak to any enlisted soldier you'll find that they actually fight for the men in their unit more than the official ideology -- though the latter remains important as it sets the boundaries of what one is allowed to say and do -- and if you read the operation manual of any army you'll find that the officers understand this perfectly and rely on it. This is depicted well here, and disturbingly: one of the sympathetic secondary-protagonist characters, nabuca (about 14), has a sidekick boo (i'd guess 9) who he tries his best to protect (along with the rest of his unit of children, of which he appears to be the NCO). Protecting Boo and the rest means ensuring that everyone follows orders and acts diligently -- including by escorting another character, Sara, to her rape and forced impregnation by another soldier at the order of the high-ups.

This is another strong theme -- the moral degredation of conditions of war, which often present situations in which there are no good responses.

The part that has stuck with me most is actually in the middle of the story, after Shu and some other characters have managed ot escape and found themselves at a hidden valley where there's a peaceful farming community -- made up of survivors of attacks from the army they've escaped from. There's a conflict within this comnunity as to what they should do in relation to the aggressors, Hellywood: Sis, who looks after a number of orphans, wants them to do nothing in the hope that they can remain hidden and provide a space for healing and in which the children can live as children; Elamba, who lost his entire family to Hellywood, wants revenge -- and to prevent any more victims in the future. Sis is the nicer person and Shu sides with her, but he can clearly see Elamba's case too: Shu was present for a Hellywood raid, in which they attacked a village and took the boys to be soldiers and the girls ot be impregnated to produce future soldiers; and for half the episode we follow Sara as she first tries to kill herself and then tries to induce an abortion by smashing her gut with a rock. I think it's impossible to see the depiction of the depths of her despair and not have a desire for revenge. To see that suffering and not seek justice is a moral horror. To endanger a rare space in which children are able to grow in safety into members of a functioning community is a moral horror.

The tension is ultimately unresolved -- it turns out that Hellywood is coming for them shortly in any case, and before that Elamba takes some rather unsympathetic actions that muddy the moral waters. But there's bravery in really sitting with the tension, as this show does.

There are only two real faults: i think it needed about one extra episode to deal with the immediate aftermath of the climax -- there's one character who makes a decision for which the bones are there, but for which there really needed to have been a bit more time to put meat on those bones; and the fact that there's a time machine in Hellywood is not properly addressed -- why do then have to stay in this shitty dying world rather than fleeing elsewhen..? But neither of these fundamentally doom the project, in my opinion.

I might write more about this, honestly -- it's a pretty obscure show, with exactly five entries on AO3 lmao (i mean, fair enough, it's a daunting one to write about) and i'd like to think i could help bring some attention to it. There's more that can be drilled into on this one i think.

Go watch it -- the entire series has been uploaded onto youtube. You need to watch it. You need to.

[kiraisrika]

Hazbin Hotel: Trace the primal light

This will be part 1/3 Of my hazbin hotel rewrite

Link to part 2: xxx

Edit: this is a safe measure to vivziepop's stans that happen to come across my silly post

I just did a rewrite of a show i thought have so much potential, viv's ideas is good, great even and i respect her (though not support her) because of how far she has come. Shes a great animator and artist, i just wanted to expand her idea in another way unlike her way, its just a silly little rewrite you don't have to take it seriously.

Tldr: I am a bored teen who see the potential and decided to expand on it im not attacking Viv im just critisizing her work, all writers, artist, creator go through that (even me) its just a part of making creating for other people to enjoy. So lets be respectful.

Lets start of with the big fish, the tonal problem of Hazbin Hotel.

I feel like Viv can't decide whether its a serious story or a comedic story, everything feels so unbalanced, one thing the viewer is supposed to make fun of a character the next you need to sympathies with them in one scene to another.

Im not saying comedic shows cannot have a serious setting once in a while, see for example: the amazing world of gumball or heck even my little pony A SHOW MADE FOR KIDS THAT MEANT TO BE LIGHTHEARTED

But ofcourse, Hazbin Hotel have this problem, so lets change it shall we?

In my rewrite HH is in its core a semi-serious show, it has mature theme that is handled seriously and it doesn't make fun of a character in their more character driven moment

Ofcourse, HH still has their humor and allat, it just doesn't interfere with the over all tone of the show

now we move on to season 1 (-ep 9)

In the original series, hazbin hotel has 8 episodes, i wouldn't blame them because their an indie production but i think it should be extended to 9 for good measure

Ep 1 focuses on the setting, tone and introduction

Ep 9 will lay out the stary of the conflict in season 2

And lets just say, the Pilot of HH did a pretty good job of standing in for Ep 1, it has the setting, the characters and how they interact. I particularly liked the introduction to charlie at the start of the pilot, when its the end of the recent extermination and she's essentially "waking up" the rest of hell.

It captured Charlie's motivation and role so perfectly and nicely, it shows her status as princess, and her motivation to end the extermination for her people. All without a single dialog only her song.

Season 1 of my HH rewrite will lean onto more episodic elements, each episode after ep 1 will introduced a new character that come to the hotel and want to be redeemed.this will be the perfect chance for viv to showcase her designs and push the premise forward.

What about sir pentious? Hes a guest yes, he's a guest in ep 1 and will be more of like the core cast along season 1

My rewrite will probably look like this:

Ep 01: Prolog

Ep 02: a guest related to greed

Ep 03: a guest related to gluttony

Ep 04: a guest related to wrath

Ep 05: a guest related to sloth

Ep 06: a Guest related to lust

Ep 07: a guest related to pride

Ep 08: cast centric episode (maybe angel dust)

Ep 09: epilog that will lay out future season

I will talk about ep 9 later after i talk about the villains in part 2

But kira how about the main cast? How about their development?

Good question and i have an answer to you

Each cast or more will handle the said guest in every episode, for example Charlie will try to calm down a rouge wrath guest or Husk will try to help slmeone with the gluttony problem and so on and so forth.

The guest will contrast the cast very much, and this will give you how they interact with someone outside the main cast

Now how about the main cast itself? How do they interact with each other? Through the episodes ofcourse, found family dynamic that build up slowly but surely. Like angel, who don't care about the hotel at the start but slowly warming up to the others

But how about their personal development or trauma? Yes, beacuse season 1 focuses alot more on episodic, developing a character through episode is hard but plausible, so i guess in season 1 we will get a little development in the show don't tell format while in season 2 we will push to more character driven story and story driven story episodes.

how about the main characters?

Ofcourse we gotta start with the main cast

Charlie morningstar

Charlie in my rewrite is nice, sweet and often times pushing herself too much, she has her pride and will do anything to protect it, even if it harm herself. Shes down to earth and thats why she gets brushed off so much by her people because she doesn't earn their respect yet

Her development in season 1 is all about her trying to gain respect and all the while pushing the inner conflict of herself for working herself too much.

And her flaw is shown in one of the scene where she lashed out to her fellow main cast beacuse of her pride as in only her method is the right one. But through out the said episode she will try to fix that part of her in the guidance of her friends.

Likable component

- friendly

- nice

- confident

- leader type

- down to earth

- caring

Unlikable component

- prideful

- Headstrong

- pushing herself too much in the cost of her own self or even her friends

- gullible

- get jealous fairly easily ( not in like a posessive way but in like of how dare you're better than me way)

Vaggie | Vagatha | Valitas (angel name)

Yes i did rewrote her name too because what the fuck is Vagina.

Anyway-

The problem i had with her is the fact she doesn't have any and i mean Any character outside of her being "Charlie's girlfriend who is an angry latina stereotype" so we gotta fix this

In my rewrite, shes a pretty serious and headstrong woman, often being the "straight man" inside the chaos of Hazbin Hotel. While she look like she's made from stone, she actually has a pretty soft side more to her friends.

She's only acted aggressively where she deemed the situation is calling for it or she sense danger arising.

Shes a very good fighter and has been with Charlie for a long Time, though they never outright have a relationship. Their romance is a slow burn one, scenes here and there like lasting glances or playful flirting throughout season 1 that build up to season 2.

She has a pretty good, enemies to friends dynamic with angel dust, and out of all the main cast she's the closest to him by far (platonic!!)

We can easily showcase her character in a show don't tell format like simple gestures like putting a hand in front of charlie when she danger is coming or reassuring the other main cast calmly while holding their hand if need be

Likable components

- attentive

- logical

- serious

- street smart

- wise

- gentle

Unlikable components

- headstrong

- violent (if the situation calls for it)

- self loathing

- overbearing

Angel dust

Angel dust oh yeah we gotta talk about him

*sigh where do i start

I am not going to show his SA scene

Thats it, thats the rewrite

JUST KIDDING

But still no SA scene bcs wtf is that

Angel dust in my hazbin hotel rewrite is a confident and flirty man, he's confident, charming and sexually active man though he does fake his emotions a whole lot.

He stand in the middle of a string between overconfidence and self loathing at the same time, even if he's tired he'll often push all of his real emotions inside and stand proud in his drag queen persona.

He is an actor after all.

He has a very heavy trauma history with Valentino, and beacuse of valentino he develop his eating disorder and self loathing tendencies.

His interaction with main cast starts from him using them as means to escape valentino to him genuinely caring about them

Hes a very complex character over all

Likable components

- confident

- charming

- caring (he doesn't want to admit it)

- attentive

- soft spot

-attractive

Unlikable components

- he'll often accidentally invading others personal space because of his flirting (he'll work on it)

- self loathing

- overconfidence

and also his eating disorder (he'll work on it too in season 1 this will be viewed negatively as in its a bad thing not that angel dust is a terrible person to have ED)

Angel ae urip iki

Husk

Husky dusty my lil meow meow (hes a grown man) Just kidding!!

Husk in my rewrite is often times dismissive, petty, and overall a not fun person beacuse of his " i don't care" attitude but surprisingly hes a pretty good listener and a very detailed observer, he has street smarts and will sometime spit out uncharacteristically good advice.

His relationship with alastor will be dived in more deeper in season 2

Over all he will be that one idgaf bartender that has surprisingly good advice

Likable components

- attentive

- observant

- good listener

- street smart

- wise

- uncharacteristic good advice

Unlikable components

- petty

- dissmissive

- bitter

- salty

Nifty

Ah yes, the hyperactive skrunkle

she's honestly...a very interesting can of worms, she acted like a child but in that one episode she displayed in this sexual setting that made me ick for a little bit

Her character is basically nothing outside of the sociopathic, hyperactive silly goober

In my rewrite she's more reserved while still holding on to that hyperactiveness of her, shes a clean freak and kinda a sociapath often times.

While she hold on to that shes a rather friendly and approachable character, shes like that one friend you would talk your problems with all the while she offered to get rid of the problem (in more ways than one). While she has her flaws with her, it wss established that she was not aware that what her doing is wrong, because in her human life she never thought about right or wrong

And yes in my rewrite shes a rather young gal (maybe high school age?), how did she met alastor? No one knows

And she's ace btw, it just doesn't accured to me she will be the type to think about romance, let alone sex.

Likeable components :

- friendly

- easily approachable

- positive

- clean

Unlikable components

- cant distinct between right or wrong

- gullible

- violent

- overbearing

Alastor

Alastor alastor alastor, what should i do with you?

In my rewrite he is an polite and old timey man, he is a gentleman and quite a charmer. Hes smart, observant and confident.

He'll probably will be the only character in my rewrite to not swear once, instead he will passive aggressively critisize someone with his signature gentleman words for example:

"Your highness perhaps with that silly little head of yours you cannot comprehend this level complexity do you?"

but ofcourse he wasn't a tumblr sexyman for nothing Ain't he?

he's manipulative while simultaneously approachable, making him more dangerous, he is sadistic and psycothic all of his move and act is for himself and only himself

It wasn't clear of wether or not he started to care for the other main cast or not but one thing is for certain that he is a force to behold.

And hes one of the girls

Also, no voodoo thingy

Likable components :

- Charming

- polite

- gentleman

- observant

- smart

Unlikable components

- manipulative

- sadistic

- fake.

- obsessive

Yes that's all for today's rewrite, part two will hopefully be tomorrow, ofcourse this is not a perfect rewrite, im open to what interpretation you guys have about my rewrite!!

Edit: sorry guys, i write this on a whim in the middle of the night and im veryy sleepy so i hope the typo and grammar mistakes can be excused