#its hard to look at my reflection today lol

[kingdomkome]

.

[pressureplus]

I need that for my comfort!🥺✨ Trans boy reader who started to have dysphoria because his hair a getting to long for his comfort. So he ask to Sebastian to help him cut them shorter, which Sebastian hesitantly agreed. Might not be the best since it’s was cut with some scissors and also because Sebastian never cut hair before. But reader is still happy with the result lol.

This is so cute

Hair and Care 101

Pairings: Sebastian Solace X TransMasc!Reader

Au: Classic

Warnings: Mentions of Gender Dysphoria

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

“And you're sure you want me to cut it? You won't do it yourself?”

“I can't exactly see the back of my head, so yes.” You sit on a stool, hands knitted together in anxiety. You'd asked Sebastian if he would be willing to cut your hair for you today. It had been, admittedly, a bit awkward to ask. He’d been flipping through files and restocking the supplies on his tail when you'd stepped into his shop. Your long hair getting in your eyes and somewhat fanning out nearly down to your hips. You hadn't had the opportunity to get it cut in so long it made your skin crawl. You felt…feminine. Way too feminine. You can't remember the last time you let your hair grow out this long and its made it really, really hard to focus on anything else. Its not just because it gets in your eyes and you can't for the life of you find a hairtie. Its deeper than that. You've started to almost flinch away from your reflections in the water and windows.

You've started to grab at your hips, at your face, poking and prodding and wondering if you can even pass with long hair. You haven't met another person besides Sebastian and the idea of being unable to see yourself the way you should. The way you know in your heart to be right. It makes you uncomfortable. You can only pinch and poke and prod for so long before your skin gets irritated. Right now, sat here, waiting for Sebastian to cut your hair? This was like your skin getting irritated. You had to debate if you were willing to even let another person cut your hair. What if they butchered it? What if it made you look worse than before? What if he fucked it up so bad you looked like one of those weird troll dolls but worse somehow? It had been your biggest worry for quite some time, until your hair got long enough that you couldn't stand it anymore.

“I feel like I should make you sign a waiver.”

“Sebastian, Im serious. Please, just cut it, I don't care if it's the worst thing ever. I can't keep walking around like this.”

“You understand my hands are too big to fit these scissors properly, right?”

“Doesnt matter, just get it done.” He sighs and grabs a collection of your long locks, specifically the one around your face. He straightens the hair to the best of his abilities using a hand so he can make the cleanest cuts he can.

“Why does this matter so much to you? Shouldn't you be, I don't know, focused on surviving? I mean paying me for a haircut seems a bit much.”

“Its…complicated.”

“How complicated can it really be?” He hums as he continues to make cuts, the sound of scissors through hair joining the sound of dripping water and Sebastian's voice. Would he even be cool about something like this? He doesn't particularly like anyone, and he's not really friendly with you either. Would he use it against you somehow? Would he get aggressive about it?

“I just feel kind of…feminine, and it makes me uncomfortable.” You mutter and this only gets a chuckle, sounding condescending.

“Oh, Expendable, long hair doesn't make you any less of a man. Don't be ridiculous.”

“I just don't like it.”

“Look, all I'm saying is, you could have bought a medkit instead of a haircut. If its this important than fine. Who am I to tell you how to spend your collected data?”

“Whether it makes me more of a man or not, is it wrong of me to not like feeling���” You trail off, and all at once, Sebastian tenses mid cut.

“Oh…thats what this is about.” His tone softens up a bit, the mild poking he had been doing immediately being cut out as he carries on cutting your hair.

“This isn't too stupid of a purchase, I guess.” He adds on.

“Yeah?” You ask as he finishes up, putting the scissors to the side and ruffling your hair to get any loose strands out.

“Yeah. Go take a look,” he motions towards the water so you can see yourself in the reflection. You peer down into it curiously and immediately your shoulders relax. You hadn't even realized you'd been tense. Your hairs a bit choppy, admittedly, but its not ugly or particularly butchered by any means. He was oddly thoughtful and careful about taking care of your hair for you. Even saying it was ridiculous to spend your data on, he didn't ruin it for you on purpose.

“Its good, you did a good job.”

“Yeah, well, I'm sure if you keep coming to me I'll get better every time.”

“Im sure you will, then.” You give him a smile and he kind of awkwardly smiles back for a moment. A bit of hesitation as you grab the keycard off his desk and put your swimming gear back on now that its dry.

“Wait.”

“Ah- Yes Sebastian?” You turn, concerned about what he might say. He's not stupid and you're certain he's figured you out by now. If he doesn't like it, there's nothing he can do about it sure but you always tense when people get all awkward around you. He hesitates a moment longer before giving you a little wave.

“You look better with short hair anyway.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I do…now go on and get out of here. I've got other Expendables to deal with and a mess of hair to clean.”

[on-a-lucky-tide]

teehee its my birthday buuuuuut i am here clawing for nikprice on the ground like a chicken. anyway i wonder how would a nikprice drunk confession go. i just love that trope to death lol

It's your birthday? Happy birthday, mate! A small gift...

Price gets a medal and then gets drunk at the after party. Nik is surprised to hear what he has to say. No one else - and I mean, no one else - is.

cw: alcohol, drunken kiss.

"I hate these bloody things," Price mumbled into his scotch, staring bleary-eyed at his own reflection in the mirror behind the bar. His speech had been short, concise, and he had spent the majority of it talking about the bravery and dedication of his Task Force. The rest of 'em had prattled on for ages about themselves, preening their egos with the new metal on their chests.

"It is a party in your honour, captain. You did a brave thing. And," Nik leaned back to pluck a canapé from the tray of a passing waitress, "there is free food." He pulled the honey-soaked sausage off the cocktail stick and chucked it in the air, catching it in his open mouth, much to the consternation of a gaggle of RAF officers nearby.

None of them were brave enough to let Nikolai see or hear what they thought of him, because they had all heard enough whispers of his service record to steer well clear. Even top brass were scared enough of him to overlook his multiple active Interpol arrest warrants so that he could attend.

Price smiled as Nik chewed, clearly pleased with his feat of dexterity, and then proceeded to slosh his scotch all over himself as he leaned his elbow against the bar... but missed said bar by about an inch and a half. "Bollocks," he growled, as expensive alcohol soaked into the equally expensive wool of his number one uniform.

Nik chuckled, snatching up a handful of serviettes from the bar. "I am starting to think you are a lightweight," he said, swivelling around in his bar stool so that his knees bracketed Price's, a folded serviette pressed to Price's chest to soak out some of the scotch.

"'M not," Price... slurred, fuck, maybe he was. "You wearin' cologne?"

"Da, number one majesté impériale."

"Sounds posh," Price said, lifting his scotch for another swig.

"Hm, it is $215,000 a bottle."

Price choked on his drink, spluttering it back into the glass. "You spent nearly four times my salary on some cologne?" He wheezed.

"It is a special occasion."

"Bloody fucking christ, Nik. It's a medal ceremony, not a bloody coronation."

"It is more important to me," Nik said, "because it is you."

Price felt his cheeks and ears warm. It didn't help that Nik's big hands were still on his chest, careful to pluck away the stray fibres of serviette from where it clung to the damp wool. This close, Price couldn't help but stare.

Fuck, he was so... handsome.

Nik had made an effort to look, and smell, his best. In his expensive tailored three-piece, no tie, because... well, who would be brave enough to tell Nikolai to put on a fuckin' tie? The open top button gave Price a really good view of his chest hair peeking through at the top. Oh, fuckin'... Hot, it was hot in here. Damn uniform.

"Careful, captain, you will fall," Nik said softly, palm pressed to the centre of Price's chest. Price had been leaning forward. Leering. Oh, this was embarrassing. He cleared his throat, shuffled back, and beckoned the barman over for a refill.

Two more glasses, one of vodka and another of scotch, and Price chanced a glance over at Nik again. "Thanks... for, uh, coming to this. The boys like the schmoozin', Simon doesn't stay longer than the talks, don't blame him, but, I, uh..."

"You find it hard to navigate the politics because you are honest and they," Nik waved his hand vaguely around the room, "are not."

Price smiled faintly. "Yeah, guess so. Full of compliments today, Nik. Man might get the wrong idea."

"Or... the right idea."

Price froze with the glass halfway up to his mouth. Even through the drunken dog, he managed to parse the meaning behind that. In payment, however, his brain had decided to bury his entire knowledge of the English language, so all he could do was make a small noise in the back of his throat, which he smothered with a large mouthful of scotch.

Nik hadn't turned in his stool, his knees still spread wide either side of Price's, and Price wanted to shuffle a little closer. He wanted those hands back on his chest, and he wanted... Christ, he just wanted. He had wanted for a long fuckin' time.

"Here," Nik said, sliding a plate of sausages over to Price. "It will absorb some of the scotch."

"Urf, naw, can't stomach that shit..."

"Then we shall go elsewhere."

"Wot?"

"Come, captain. The sergeants left for the clubs ten minutes ago."

"They did? Bastards..."

"Da. I will get your coat."

The fresh evening air hit Price like a sledge hammer to the face, and he was pretty sure he would have fallen in the gutter without Nikolai to lean on. He was intimately aware of the strong arm around his waist, one of his hands clinging onto Nik's expensive wool coat as they staggered into the local Maccy D's for a Big Mac and chicken nugget share box.

Nik paid for it, flashing his most charming smile at the young girl behind the counter as he collected the highly decorated SAS captain from where he was clinging onto a nearby condiments bench for support, takeaway bag in hand.

They ended up sat on a bench by the Thames, dressed to the nines, Nik smelling of thousand dollar cologne as he wolfed down over-salted MacDonald's chips at Price's side, and Price couldn't stop staring at him.

Nik could be anywhere else. Anywhere. He could be partying with the wealthiest men and women in the world, walking among the elite, and yet here he was sitting in London eating shitty fast food with a drunk soldier. He chose Price every time. Every time. Price felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. "Nikolai..."

"Da, captain."

"I think I love you."

Nik grinned, huffing a soft chuckle. "Mmhm."

"No, no," Price swiped his beret off, which had somehow managed to cling onto his head while they had staggered through the mean streets of Westminster. "I... I'm serious. I... I love you. Have for, uh," he hiccuped, fucking hiccuped, tried to recover by puffing into his clenched fist, "...have for a while," he squeaked. Oh, fuck, was that indigestion?

Nik put his box of chicken nuggets aside and turned, arm draped over the back of the bench. He slid a gloved hand under Price's chin and turned his head up. Seconds later, they were kissing. Fucking... Nik's fucking lips were on Price's and, and...

Price hiccuped again.

Nik chuckled into his mouth, before drawing away to smooth his thumb through Price's beard. "This is not how I imagined it, but it is... somehow, right."

Price's face was bright red, he could feel it burning, and his eyes were wide. "You, uh... You..."

"For many, many years, solnyshko."

"We've... that's a... a long time." Price said softly.

"I am a patient man. And you are worth waiting for."

After that, Price didn't really recall much. The MacDonald's hit the deck and Price climbed Nikolai like a bloody tree. They ended up in his hotel room, with Nik's expensive suit and Price's (honestly, perhaps slightly less) expensive uniform on the floor. It might have gone further than boyish fumbling if Price hadn't fallen asleep face down in the pillows after saying he didn't want to take advantage of Nik in his current state. Nik had chuckled at that and laid down next to him, stroking his hair.

Price woke up in the morning with a sore head and a dry mouth, and found Nik sitting by the open window in a hotel dressing gown. "Nik, did I..."

"Nyet, captain. You were an absolute gentleman." Nik put the newspaper aside and took his glasses off, delivering the waiting pint of water and aspirin to Prices hands. "Do you... remember what you said?"

Price's cheeks reddened. "Yeah, look, I'll understand if--"

He didn't get to finish. Nik kissed him squarely on his stupid mouth, stroking a big palm through his hair. When he drew back, he hummed softly. "Drink that and then we will go to breakfast," he said, walking away. Price couldn't help but stare as the dressing gown slid down his broad back, revealing a full arse framed in black boxers. "And brush your teeth."

Price downed the water and staggered from beneath the duvet. He was ready to head down within ten minutes, desperate for a strong coffee and a greasy sarnie. Unfortunately, the rest of his task force, Los Vaqueros, Chimera, Laswell and a handful of her agents happened to be in the dining room already.

"Eyy, there he is!" Gaz called, toasting his mug of coffee.

Soap looked round, glanced at Nik and then back at Price. "Fuckin' finally."

Laswell rested her chin on her palm. "Bagged your man then, Nik. Well done."

Price blinked, squinting in the bright morning light. "So you all--"

Simon walked past, his plate heaped with bacon and eggs, and shoved a coffee into his captain's hand before patting his shoulder. "Yeah. Everyone did 'cept you."

Price looked at Nik for help, only to receive a shrug and a quirked eyebrow before Nik wandered off to the buffet.

"Bloody bastards," Price muttered, glancing at each triumphant face, thumbs up and smirk, before slumping into a nearby chair. Bloody. Bastards

[hyuckiefluff]

Hey so I hv request! Really love the way you write♡ ok so mark is on adrenaline high frm the concert and is really touch starved and really just wants to fuck his gf! Established realtionship y/n and Mark, feel free to add your magic, thank you!!!

a/n: thank u for the nice words and for sending in this req!! this is exactly what i needed to get back into the mood cuz i’ve (once again) been neglecting my writing lol but anyway when i read this the first thing i thought of was quiet down hence the pic :)

ps: requests are still open btw (still got a lot of them to go through but feel free to send in more) i usually do them in order of which one inspires me the most so even if you send rn i might get to it first!

pairing: mark lee x fem!reader

wc: 1.3k

content warnings: semi-public sex, unprotected sex, slight choking, brief mention of blood, mark is sex starved so he goes a bit crazy, ass groping, handjob (m. receiving), cum eating yeah ik ik i keep writing this but i can’t stop sawry, big c0ck mark!! barely any prep or aftercare (they don’t have time!!!) basically just a messy & needy quickie backstage.

masterlist

Mark was losing his mind. 

Why?

All because you placed him on a week-long sex ban in an attempt to prepare him for the upcoming tour. He knew you were just trying to help him adjust to being away from you, but it felt like torture.

Everything was fine at first, or at least Mark was doing a great job pretending. But as the first week neared its end, his resolve started to crumble. Today, in particular, he was extremely horny for no reason.

...Well, he actually did have a reason and it was the picture you sent him this morning, wearing the new underwear he had gifted you  'They fit perfectly, Markie ;)'.

And as if that wasn’t enough, you showed up to his show wearing his favorite skirt—the very one you knew he always fucked you in. He wasn't sure if he was just thinking with his dick, but it felt like you were trying to push him to his limit.

Either way, it was definitely working, because when you leaned in for a kiss, he caught a glimpse of your underwear in the mirror's reflection and and he had to fight against every part of himself to not moan right then.

To make matters worse, you were still wearing the black lace panties he had gifted you.

By the time he stepped on stage, he was already painfully hard. What kind of pervert gets turned on in front of an audience just because his girlfriend accidentally flashed him? Well, apparently, Mark Lee did.

But he didn't care about looking like a desperate, sex-starved fool. 

So as soon as the VCR started playing and they had to change outfits, he made a beeline for you backstage. Ignoring the protests of staff and confused band members telling him he only had 10 minutes to get ready he grabbed your arm and pulled you through the crowd.

“That’s more than enough time,” he muttered under his breath. Despite your persistent attempts to ask where he was taking you, Mark didn’t stop until you were hidden away in a dark, secluded corner behind the stage.

"Mark, what's going on? Are you okay?" You inspected him with concern in your eyes, checking for any injuries.

"Ah...fuck... I have a really big problem," he groaned.

"What's wrong?" But you quickly understood the issue when he pulled up his shirt, revealing the growing bulge in his pants.

You tried not to laugh, but the way he looked like a child in need of help was too endearing. "Aw, did I do this to you?"

"It's not funny," he protested, suddenly invading your personal space. "I need you to fix it." His forehead pressed against yours, his hands roaming over your sides and gripping your hips to press you firmly against his body, your lower abdomen coming in contact with his hard on.

"Of course, baby" you replied, ready to kneel down, but he stopped you by grabbing your arm. You looked at him confused, and the stage lights cast an angle that highlighted his pleading eyes. They were glossy with desire.

"I need to be inside you," he murmured, his voice strained and raspy.

The idea of having backstage sex at his concert with just about seven minutes left before he had to return to the stage felt crazy. But there was something about it that turned you on beyond explanation.

So, you cupped his face and kissed him hard enough that your teeth clashed with his lips, but not even the slight taste of blood stopped you from devouring each other’s mouth. Mark quickly matched your intensity, his tongue wasting no time exploring every corner of your mouth. Every time he nibbled on your lips, it elicited little gasps from you. His hands moved from your hips to your ass, pressing you firmly against his bulge, a clear reminder that he was about to explode down there.

You started to undo his pants, the friction of his erection against the fabric made him suck in air through his teeth. He broke away from your lips, allowing you to pull down his pants. His boxers were already stained with pre-cum, and when you lowered them, his dick looked at you flushed and angry. You bit your lip, his size always made you clench your thighs in anticipation.

Before you could even touch him, he turned you around and that’s when you realized you were pressed against one of the glass boxes from their performance.

"Mark..." you moaned his name when you felt the tip of his dick at your entrance. There was no time for much preparation so when he slowly pushed his hips forward, a string of curses left his lips at the tightness.

"Fuuuck..." he groaned when your walls clenched around him relentlessly. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you leaned against the box for support

“God, you feel so good” His hands gripped your hips, and you felt his lips kissing your shoulder before he whispered that he was going to start moving. You nodded weakly.

His pace started out slow, but there was an undeniable urgency in each motion. His hand moved from your hips to your neck, gripping you softly and pulling you closer with every deep thrust. His lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear, and with every kiss and nibble, you couldn't help but clench around him, making his hand close tighter against your throat. This pattern continued for a while, bringing you closer to the edge.

"Please..." you whimpered, and he grunted softly against your neck.

"What do you need, baby?" he asked.

"More, please, I need more," you moaned, feeling his grin against your neck.

He wasted no time. His thrusts quickened, and you couldn't help but release soft gasps and moans with each movement. You leaned forward against the box, your breath fogging up the glass, feeling it tremble beneath you as he continued fucking into you harder. Mark was losing himself, or perhaps he already had; he was rutting against you as if he was an animal in heat.

"M-mark... I'm close," you mewled, not sure if he even heard you amidst the loud cheers.

"Mhm, me too," he moaned, his voice strained. 

It only took a few more thrusts and you were spent, moaning and mumbling incoherently as he helped you ride your orgasm.

 "Fuck, it's gonna be messy if I cum inside you," he realized, slowing his movements.

He was right… he wasn't wearing a condom so as soon as he pulled out, it would definitely drip down your legs. And there wasn’t anything nearby to clean you up with.

"Pull out," you said, and you could see his confusion from the corner of your eye. Nonetheless, he did as told. His hand was already on his dick, ready to take care of himself, but when you knelt down, it was as if his body glitched momentarily.

Your hands replaced his, applying just the right amount of pressure in your strokes to evoke that familiar sensation building in his gut. You looked at him through your eyelashes, your makeup slightly smudged from tears and sweat. The sight was incredibly hot, and just when he was about to cum, you opened your mouth, catching all of his release. Some of it trickled down your throat. The whole scene, along with the sounds you made while swallowing, had Mark almost in tears from the sheer intensity of the moment.

After swallowing every drop, you stood up, adjusting your panties and casually licking a remnant from the corner of your lips, all while maintaining eye contact with Mark. He watched you in stunned silence, still catching his breath. You chuckled when he remained frozen for a good 10 seconds, pulling him close gently and zipping up his pants. In that moment, you heard his voice.

“Please come on tour with me,” he begged, his eyes wide with hope. You just smiled and kissed him.

“Where’s Mark?! You guys are up in 2 minutes!” The staff's frantic shouts pulled you both back to reality. You exchanged a glance and burst into giggles like a pair of teenagers.

i think i might be shadowbanned guys so interact with this post if u enjoyed it pls <3

[tartigglez]

For the 300 follower event. Can I request green with Zhongli as Rex Lapis?

"rest"

・❥・rex lapis x gn!adeptus!reader

・❥・1.5k

・❥・set in old teyvat, reader and morax are in a sort of weird soul bond situationship, half-dragon!li (i've just decided its his base form now so everyone cope), he calls reader "little one" at one point (lol?), reader has horns (that sounds so silly help), reader cries and it's kinda cinematic, (yes i am using this to heal the wounds my ex left me with because he was ashamed of our relationship thank you for asking!), this has gotta be one of my fav fics ive ever written LOL

・❥・HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO IT IS I, CAEL. today i present you all with: a thing i wrote!

・❥・if you want to request a prompt from this event, click on the green title!

the world is quiet when the dragon slumbers. 

at least, that's what you think. 

that's what the adepti think.

the souls of the old deities that have been subdued by rex lapis calm a little when he rests. their empty shells are less vengeful, and they, albeit momentarily, no longer seek to wreak havoc on the people of liyue. 

it was a simple mission you had. go to the cave, retrieve any necessary cor lapis for streetward rambler and do not disturb morax. and of course, none of the other adepti knew, but this rule was an optional one in your mind.

the others would never know of your relationship with rex lapis, which was of a deeper level than you cared to explain. the deep, intricate weaves of your two souls together were much more detailed than anyone could ever imagine, so gently and carefully tied over such a long time that they could never be undone. they were roots so deep that neither you nor him could even tell how much you needed each other. 

of course, when he is resting you shouldn’t disturb him, because he needs it. he works hard to protect his people, and for this reason he should always be allowed to rest when he needs. 

as the few chunks of cor lapis you carried in your bag clanked together, you entered the mouth of a cave in mingyun village. you were fully aware that this was where he would be, since you could feel his presence. but you were only here since this was where the best cor lapis could be found, right? right?

a seemingly small tunnel in the side of the cave led you straight to the sight of him. he was completely still in slumber, tail of brown scales and golden spines lay a little curved on his hoard of various gemstones and chunks of metals.

you walked somewhat slowly to him, tiptoeing your way in to the cave, only to have a look at him of course. he looked quite strange when sleeping. his aura was much more peaceful than usual. 

normally, morax was calm. but there would always be some sort of troubled glint in his eyes, one that it appears only you can see, perhaps it is only for you to know of. 

as you made your way to the side of the cave opposite to the opening, you could see his hair and arms glowing a little in rhythm with his breathing. from deep in his chest came soft, yet low purrs. he was at rest. however, the small smile which appeared on his lips would say otherwise. 

slowly, but surely his eyelids opened, the bright amber irises previously hidden behind them meeting you as you stared at him, not even realising he had actually woken up. instead you were busy admiring his presence. 

“you haven’t been here long, hm?” he spoke with a yawn, pushing himself to sit up upon his hoard. the golden surfaces of a few pieces of mora reflected his sharp features as he took a sigh. 

your expression was one of pure guilt. you had only wished to see him, after all it was rare that the two of you got much time alone, but you didn’t want to actually wake him up when he was so deserving of a sleep. 

“not to worry,” he smiled, “i was due to wake up in a few days anyway.” he got down from the top of the pile, ground shaking a little as he jumped, and was all of a sudden by your side. “why the long face, little one?” he asked gently, tilting his head to the side and placing a loving hand on your cheek.

“i didn’t want to wake you up” you sighed, leaning into his touch. “i did miss you, but i only wanted to see you, not disturb you.”

he moved a little closer to you, his horns slightly touching your own as he moved his forehead against yours, “you are never a disturbance to me, dear” he spoke, closing his eyes and taking a few breaths with you. 

but suddenly, it hurt.

“morax…” you opened, trailing off, unsure of how to convey what you wanted to say. instead, your eyebrows knit themselves together, and completely out of your control, a single tear rolled down your cheek, losing itself slowly to the fabric of your robe after making its way down your neck. 

he felt it, all of the emotions that were happening for you were making their way to him, his senses more amplified after having rested. “dear-” he said softly, voice breaking a little, hands and eyes searching your body for some sign of injury or pain, “did something hurt you, are you well?” his eyes were filled with concern for you, and somehow that made you feel worse. he stroked your cheek with one hand, the other rubbing up and down your arm. “tell me, what troubles you?” he asked quietly.

“you wouldn’t want to know,” you giggled a little, more tears suddenly escaping your face. “it is a futile complaint”

“tell me,” he said, bringing his hands to your cheeks and gently wiping away your tears, “i want to hear all of it” 

you were silent for some time after that, the dim environment of the cave allowing you to lean your head on rex lapis’ shoulder, holding his hand as the other was gently stroking over your hair, and slowly massaging at the base of your horns. 

“do you think we’ll ever be able to tell them?” you said, nothing more than a whisper. so quietly that if morax didn’t have such heightened senses, he wouldn’t have been able to hear it at all.

“tell who?” he said back, shoulder slightly vibrating against your cheek as he did.

“the others. do you think we can ever tell them about us?” you asked, absentmindedly staring at a single coin of mora across from you. upon its shiny surface was painted the image of rex lapis of one and his adepti. no. upon its surface was painted two people who were held in a love that had been finely crafted over centuries, each piece chiselled out like the stone of a statue. 

“do you want them to know?” he asked, turning his head a little to place a soft kiss upon your head, humming a little before turning back to face his hoard, leaning his head on top of yours.

you nodded a little, closing your eyes, unsure of what to say next.

“if you want them to know then we shall tell them. i doubt they will be upset about it. after all, i am the one in charge, no?” he chuckled a little, interlacing his fingers with yours. 

“you’d really tell them?” you asked, moving from the way you were sat, instead sitting up straight to look at him, holding both his hands in your own. 

“if that is what you want, then of course i will. i only wish you had told me sooner.” he smiled at you, standing up and pulling you with him. your eyes shone brightly as you beamed at him, and he moved a little closer to you to ask a very important question…

“would you like to rest with me for a little while?” 

you nodded, and within an instant he had whisked you to the top of his pile. he began circling around, trying to find a comfortable spot before inviting you to lay down by him, tapping on the space beside him, which was rather funny, because a few of his treasures rolled down the side of the hoard, which made him pout a little. 

you keenly moved to lay down beside him, resting your head on his arm. however, there was one major problem.

“this is kind of uncomfortable” you spoke, watching his face contort from being relaxed, to confused, to relieved. through his expressions you could already tell that he had found the solution. 

“here,” he yawned out, swiftly moving you to lay on his chest as he rolled on to his back. “better?”

you laughed a little, cheek against the robe which (barely) covered his chest. “much better”

he wrapped both his arms around your waist, every effort being made not to scrape you with his talons. and in this moment, that was when it hit you, more than ever before. every piece of care that he had for you and you for him, it was all for one cause…

“i love you, morax” you smiled softly, squeezing him a little.

finally, you had put words to it. after centuries, you had finally verbalised on the affection shared between the two of you. for the first time ever, you knew exactly what you felt. it was love. 

it is love. 

sfw masterlist || event masterlist

© tartigglez, 2023. do not copy, translate or repost, reblogs appreciated

[magicalbats]

Kinktober 2024 Day 7: Lycaon x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 5732

Warnings: Afab!reader, boss/employee, sex toys under clothes, master/servant roleplay, overstimulation, power dynamics

A/N: It's been interesting watching other 'not furry's be converted to the dark side thanks to Lycaon the same as I was. He almost feels like a litmus test in a way. lol

⭐

A curt knock at the bathroom door interrupts your ceaseless fretting and brings your head up with a snap. Oh, this could not be happening. 

“Are you quite ready yet?” Lycaon calls out to you, his tone of voice as soothingly calm and collected as it ever is, but in this particular instance it has the exact opposite effect of making your pulse nervously jump. 

Was this how Corin felt every day, all jittery and skittish of even her own shadow? You were amazed at how she could even function in any capacity let alone a professional one if that was the case, but as you look into the mirror over the sink you’re struck by the obvious panic reflected in your own eyes. Alright, you had a decision to make. You could still walk away from this, tell him you don’t really need the job after all and hand in your uniform. The line had not been crossed yet even though you were skirting dangerously close to the edge of it. 

You could still pack it up and go home. 

“Is everything alright in there?” Lycaon tries again, and this time the creeping note of concern in his mild mannered tone makes you spin around to face the door with your back pressed up against the sink. This so could not be happening right now. You couldn’t believe you were really about to go through with such a ridiculous, wildly inappropriate exchange with your boss. 

“Y - yes, Lord Lycaon. I’m just — tidying up my clothes a bit, that’s all. I’ll be out in a minute.” 

On the other side of the flimsy wooden barrier you can hear his weight shifting almost imperceptibly from one prosthetic foot to the other. “Ah, I see. While it is good to be mindful of one’s appearance, you needn’t worry about that today. I’ve taken care to ensure that the other housekeepers know they have the day off so I can focus on your training without interruption. I’ll be waiting here for you whenever you are ready.” 

You can’t quite help the whimper that slips out of you. That was the whole crux of the problem, wasn’t it? 

Cheeks burning hot, you stiffly fidget in place to test the position of the egg shaped toy he’d given you with the brief explanation that it was to help with today's lesson. Of course you’d thought he was joking at first, just an exceedingly rare display of levity from the head butler of Victoria Housekeeping Co., but the mirthless stare he’d proceeded to level you with quickly assured you that he was in fact not kidding around. And in retrospect, of course he wasn’t. It was stupid to have ever even assumed he was when sexual harassment lawsuits were such a big deal. 

Not to mention that this was Lycaon you were talking about here. He very rarely if ever joked about anything … ugh! Stupid, stupid, stupid! 

Try as you might though, the pink silicone egg is much too attention grabbing where it’s sitting wedged deep inside your cunt for you to find a truly comfortable position where you don’t notice it as much. Its insidious shape was clearly streamlined to push in on the receptive nerves inside your body with precision and accuracy, and it does so with alarming results. You could feel yourself slowly getting wet around it even though you try very hard to pretend like it wasn’t there at all. 

Initially it hadn’t seemed to you very different from wearing a tampon so you’d somehow deluded yourself into thinking you’d get used to it once it was inserted … but you were beyond mortified now to realize that that is not the case. If anything, it was just getting worse. 

All it took was the smallest shift to make it feel like it was pushing in on your guts in a way that wasn’t exactly pleasurable but it also wasn’t unpleasant either. As if the simple, basic design of it was putting just enough pressure on the right spots to make your pussy subconsciously react even though you didn’t really see anything to be excited about in this situation. The fact you’d let it get to this point was astounding in and of itself but you didn’t have much else in the way of options. 

Rent would be due in the next week and if you didn’t manage to find a new job in that time should you quit this one … frankly you didn’t even want to think about that possibility at the moment.  

So you finally draw a deep breath to ground yourself and steady your quaking nerves before pushing off from the sink. Walking is a bit awkward with the toy stuffed inside you but it wasn’t impossible, just difficult. You can feel your legs trembling slightly with the effort as every single blaring siren in the back of your mind frantically urges you to rethink this. 

You couldn’t afford to do that though. Not when it might mean losing your apartment just for the sake of maintaining your pride. 

Your one and only consolation is that Lycaon has proven himself to be nothing short of a true gentleman in the brief time you’ve known him, and you didn’t think he would use this opportunity to take advantage of you. He’d said this was for training purposes only and you so badly wanted to believe that. 

Sure enough, he’s standing perfectly poised in the hallway when you hesitantly open the door and peek out. You catch him in the process of checking his pocket watch but at the soft creak of the hinges his big, pointy ears twitch in your general direction before he glances up. 

Noising a brief sound of approval, Lycaon quickly tucks his watch away and folds his arms behind his back. Well, he certainly didn’t look like someone who was about to pounce on you and rip your clothes off at least, so there was that. 

“Excellent. I trust you’ve made the necessary preparations I tasked you with?” 

“Yes, sir. I - I put it in, just like you told me, but … is this really necessary? I don’t understand what this has to do with housekeeping.” 

His posture perfectly tall and straight, Lycaon steps closer to put a gentle but massive hand across your back so he can nudge you into motion with him. The fact he politely keeps it up around your shoulders rather than reaching lower to grope or manhandle you only serves to confuse you even more. It was as if this really were just a means to an end and he didn’t have any actual stakes at play here. 

“You have my sincerest apologies for not providing a satisfactory explanation to you earlier. But as I said, this is only to help you. It is not a punishment.” Tipping his head down to regard you as he leads the way down the carpeted hall towards the dining room, Lycaon fixes you with a look of sincere remorse. “If you’ll forgive me for being so blunt, I noticed that you’re often easily distracted. We can’t have any lapses in our attentiveness when it comes to the needs of our employers, so I thought this might be a good exercise to hone your ability to focus.” 

Your head positively reels at that. “B - but Ellen - -“

“Her problem is entirely different.” He cooly cuts across you. “And I will see to her as well in due time. As far as you are concerned, I’ve come up with a lesson plan for today that I think should net positive results. Just remember that I am not forcing you to do this and you are free to leave at any time.” 

The unspoken ‘but you won’t have a job anymore’ hangs heavy over your head, encouraging you to keep quiet. 

Stepping into the dining room together, your attention immediately flicks to the quaint tea cart sitting off to the side from the sturdy oak table in the center. There’s already a pot and place settings laid out on top of it as if in preparation for serving. But rather than there, Lycaon guides you over to the head of the table where he surprises you by pulling out the empty high backed chair and taking a seat in it. 

Vaguely the puzzle pieces start to fit together while you watch him scoot in just enough to casually stretch his long legs out underneath the neatly clothed table, getting himself situated with an air of refinement in every gesture before finally glancing up at you where you’re stood next to him. 

“Are you ready to begin?”

You’re not so sure it was even possible to be fully prepared for what was about to happen, but you still find yourself meekly nodding your head anyway. You weren’t usually like this and yet … 

“Good. Then this is what we shall do,” Taking on the smart intonation of someone delivering a rather cut and dry lecture, as if the topic were nothing more exciting than complicated algebra, Lycaon retrieves his cellphone from his pants pocket with a purposeful flourish. “I’m going to play the role of the client and you, my dear, will be in charge of seeing to my every need. In order to ensure our generous benefactors are completely satisfied that means you need to stay alert and even anticipate their wants before they can voice them. I’ll instruct you as needed throughout some of the tasks I’d like you to do, but I also expect you to pay attention as well. Is that understood?” 

You swallow your nerves down hard, hands helplessly clutching at the front of your uniform. “Yes, sir. And … and the toy?” 

“That I will control through the use of this application. As time goes on, I’ll continue to up the speed and power which means it will be your responsibility to keep your attention focused on what’s important rather than letting it wander.” 

Deliberately, he sets his phone down on the table to show you the screen pulled up on some sort of app. You can’t really make a whole lot of sense of what you’re looking at with all the different buttons and settings controls laid out on the page, but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. It was a remote controlled toy he’d given you and he planned to torture you with it. 

That realization makes your stomach flip in on itself, dread settling in your gut like a heavy lead weight even while you try to figure out how he possibly knew how to use one of these things. Lycaon was not the most adept when it came to technology and you’d heard that Ellen occasionally had to show him how to utilize some of the basic features on his smart device with varying results, so where was this coming from? 

Technically the logic was there though. You would have been lying through your teeth if you’d said he was wrong for wanting to test your focus in this manner, with what was arguably the most distracting form of sensory input that existed, but still. The simple fact he’d chosen this method above all else embarrasses you a great deal, making you squirm on the spot. You were seriously going to give Corin a run for her money if you didn’t knock it off soon. 

“Your mind is wandering again.” He murmurs, snapping you out of it with a little jolt. 

“I - I’m sorry, Lord Lycaon. I understand the assignment. Should I just …” 

Drawing a quiet breath that makes his broad chest slowly expand, the wolf Thiren leisurely reclines back into the chair with a subtle nod. “Yes, I think I’ll have some tea now. Be a dear and fetch it for me, won’t you?” 

It takes you a prolonged beat to realize this game of pretend has already started, and you rush to bob an inelegant curtsy even when it makes the toy push up into you in a curious manner. “Of course, sir. Right away.” 

But before you can turn to fetch that for him, Lycaon pointedly clears his throat to get your attention. Hesitating there with your hands balled up in your quickly wrinkling skirt, you stare at him in confusion. 

And then it clicks. He was playing the role of a client which meant … 

Flustered heat promptly races up your face as you stutter out a rushed, “M - master. I’ll have that ready for you in just a moment, Master Lycaon.” 

He hums a soft sound of approval at that and you quickly turn on your heel to stumble from the table, eager for a chance to regroup. You were such a frazzled mess you felt somewhat faint in the wake of that exchange. 

But you only make it a few steps before the toy in your pussy suddenly comes alive, buzzing a faint sound between your legs that seems to greatly pale in comparison to the intense vibration that starts up. Squawking a half choked sound of surprise, you lurch to a halt only half of the way to the tea cart and double over as if you’d just been sucker punched. Stiff and halting, you simply stand there for a harrowingly long stretch while you try will your body not to react to it. 

You’re fighting a losing battle though, and you can feel the mild tension in your loins slowly curling itself into a tighter ball of pent up kinetic energy while the roiling sensation works through your cunt. The warm, distantly tingling pulse makes you feel even more lightheaded than you did just a moment ago, swaying unsteadily there on your feet. And this was only the first setting? You weren’t so sure you could survive this. 

If the dizzying rush of unwarranted arousal didn’t kill you, the humiliation would probably finish the job. 

But even now you’re still keenly aware of Lycaon’s gaze lingering on your stiffly hunched back, watching you closely to see what you’ll do, and you know you have to at least try to complete this test. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t in any way polite of him to do this to you, and yet there’s a stubborn little part of you that was resolved to see this through. 

So you force yourself to take another step forward even when your legs don’t want to cooperate, and then another until you at last reach the tea cart with no shortage of effort. Your hands immediately come up to grab the edge of it and steady your wavering balance through sheer force, struggling to keep your head on straight. It still didn’t exactly feel good in the strictest sense, not even now when it was insistently buzzing away at your guts, but rather it’s just so … intrusive that you find it hard to concentrate on anything else. 

Even your breathing is a bit strained as you carefully work to take the waiting pot in your hands and pour some out into the cup on its dainty, matching saucer. This was ridiculous, you quickly decide. And not just the bizarre situation you’ve found yourself in, but also the glaring fact you couldn’t even handle this level of vibration without nearly falling to your knees. 

Alright, maybe Lycaon was right. Maybe you were easily distracted, especially when your pussy was involved, but was this really the way to train that out of you? 

And more to the point, why had this been his first choice before literally anything else? 

“Quickly, now.” He calls over to you, the sound of his voice making you twitch so hard you almost spill tea everywhere. “It’s rude to keep your employer waiting too long. You must be expedient and punctual if you wish to give satisfactory service to our clients.” 

“Yes, Master,” You grit out as you stiffly set the teapot back down with a louder than intended clatter. 

You can hear Lycaon humming a soft sound of criticism behind you at the rough handling of the china, but luckily he doesn’t comment any further than that. For the best, really. The longer that continuous buzz kept going the more on edge you were starting to feel. 

Taking a quick moment to gather yourself, you breathe out a shuddering exhale before taking up the smaller hand tray and turning back towards the table. Your progress is slow and haltingly careful as you make your way over to where he’s seated, clenching the little handles on the tray hard enough to make your knuckles hurt. If you spilled the cup now there was a very real chance you’d automatically fail this strange test though and likely end up in the hospital on top of that. You could clearly see the steam rising up from the shuddering liquid as much as you can feel it wafting across your face, indicating that it was still quite hot. 

Steadily watching you the whole time, Lycaon waits until you’re about an arms length from the table before sedately reaching over to tap something on the phone screen. He does it so decisively and without hesitation that you don’t even get the chance to protest, and all you can do is suck in a ragged gasp when the vibrations suddenly swell. It feels like the silicone toy is just relentlessly battering the walls of your cunt and putting so much pressure on the sensitive nerves therein that you lurch with a wounded noise. 

Your knees threaten to buckle right out from under you as you valiantly attempt to keep the tray leveled out while dragging your feet forward at the same time. It’s incredibly difficult, the tray shuddering almost violently in your hold, but somehow you manage to make it. Somehow you reach the table just in time to half set half drop it down on the clean white cloth so you can clutch the edge of polished oak wood instead. 

Outright hissing through your teeth, you pitifully squirm and fidget against the onslaught of sensation even though you already knew there was no way to escape it. The only reprieve you would find was in having the damn thing taken out, and given the way Lycaon observes you with unfaltering interest you knew that that time wouldn’t come soon. 

Dammit. As if this wasn’t already bad enough, you could feel your pussy eagerly flooding around the toy to ooze gossamer slick into your panties and having him stare at you like that wasn’t helping in the slightest. Your nipples were starting to coil against the soft cotton of your bra too, the arousal so sharp and debilitating that it was getting hard just to think straight. What if you really came like this, right in front of him? 

“You’re having a hard time concentrating again.” Lycaon murmurs, evidently more to himself than to you, but that doesn’t stop you from flicking your gaze over at him. 

“My apologies, Master. I’ll serve your tea right away.” 

Viciously hissing through your teeth, you force your body to gingerly straighten up out of the defensive hunch you’d fallen into against the table. Your motions are painfully slow and stiff as you struggle to pick up the saucer without spilling its contents everywhere but you eventually manage to set it down before him. The little sugar bowl and cream quickly get tossed down as well, and then you’re taking the tray in hand to back up a step. 

“Is there anything else I can, nghn, g - get you, Master?” 

“That will be all for right now. Thank you.” He says, then in a softer voice he adds, “Take a moment to collect yourself.” 

You aren’t sure how you’re supposed to do that when the insistent, buzzing whir between your legs is still going strong and it sounds almost deafeningly loud in the otherwise quiet room. Gnashing your teeth in an attempt to stay the pathetic little whimpers that try to crawl up from your throat, you dazedly watch Lycaon take the cup in his oversized paw and give it a sip. 

But it’s an uphill battle though, and one you don’t seem likely to win. Your cunt is so wracked by intense tremors that you can’t help but squirm in place, blithely squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure between them. There wasn’t anything you wouldn’t have given in that moment to simply lie back on any available surface, spread your legs wide and rub your clit aching and raw. The worst part was, you weren’t even convinced that it was only the vibrating toy to blame for your current state. 

Lycaon’s masculine presence certainly played into it as well, and you understand that on some intrinsic level as you look him over as if in a stuporous haze. Some Thiren were more beast than human, but he decidedly had the proportions of a man and even his general facial structure was rather close to your own. His snout wasn’t so long as to truly give the impression of a canine unlike some others you’d seen or known, and his hands were still shaped like a humans despite being tipped with black claws. 

He registers in your mind just as any other man would despite the fur and in that moment when your pussy was warmly throbbing around the egg shaped silicone, you can’t help but want him. This doesn’t exactly come as a great shock, because you did find him rather handsome, but … he was your boss. And despite what the current situation would have otherwise suggested, he hadn’t shown any signs at all of being interested in you like that. 

This was just part of your training, a means to an end. He didn’t have any personal stakes here. 

Right? 

Softly seething under your breath, you drag your gaze lower to appreciatively admire the broad barrel stretch of his chest underneath the clearly tailored waistcoat. As usual the collar was left open to allow him to breathe, and you’re struck by the intense urge you suddenly feel to play with the tufts of fur sticking out under his neck. Surely that hadn’t been his actual goal in doing this, you’re relatively certain of that, but if it was it's certainly working. 

As if hearing your thoughts loud and clear, Lycaon’s ears twitch in your direction seconds before he glances up at you. Your lungs hitch with a not fully realized gasp as you look back at him, too lost in the swimming delirium that’s come over you to even pretend to be embarrassed about it. He’d caught you ogling him and sizing him up, so what? It was his own fault for turning your own body against you in such an insidious manner. 

“Are you quite alright? You appear to be struggling with this far more than I expected you to.” 

A soft whimper manages to escape as you awkwardly shift your stance. “Any normal person would, Master Lycaon. How — how did you even come up with something like this in the first place? I didn’t expect you to be into this sort of thing …” 

Relenting with a rumbling sound of consideration, he reclines back into the chair again as if to think on that question but the gesture pulls your gaze lower still. As if you couldn’t fight the magnetic pull any longer now that there wasn’t anything in the way, you glance down at his lap. And you nearly jump right out of your skin when your attention fixes upon the very noticeable bulge pushing up at the front placket of his dutifully pressed slacks. 

It’s as if someone has just ripped the rug right out from under you to leave you in a spiraling free fall, and the new tension running through your body makes you clench down on the toy. It feels all the more heavy inside you as a result, your hips giving a pitiful, subconscious little jerk. The pressure rapidly swells and folds in on itself all at once and you shudderingly hunch in on yourself even as you frantically try to make your pussy relax instead of tightening up. 

But it’s no use now that it’s already pushed you this close to the edge. You precariously hang in the balance for a tortuously drawn out moment and then your cunt slowly squeezes down hard enough to toe the line of discomfort, and you abruptly find yourself cumming with a strangled cry of distress. 

Your legs tremble almost violently through the onslaught, threatening to give out and dump you on the ground. But by some small miracle you manage to keep yourself upright, merely staggering forward half a step to unsteadily brace against it. A tortured, faltering groan is all you allow to slip while you screw your eyes shut and ride it out until the pulsing spasms finally start to subside. 

Except the toy just continues buzzing without even lessening its intensity and you soon find your body giving up the fight altogether. Weakly, you collapse onto the floor where you drop the hand tray with a dull clatter in favor of curling protective fingers around your middle. You’re more than just a bit horrified to realize you can feel the buzzing from deep within you, even through layers of skin and clothes. Sucking in a wet, half strangled breath while your legs continue to twitch across the floor, you tip your face up to send Lycaon a harried look. 

You’re not at all surprised to find him carefully watching you with his chin resting along the back of his loosely curled fist, just observing you and your unseemly display. But from this angle on the floor you can clearly see his tail swishing back and forth where it’s curled down over the edge of the chair and you realize he’s not nearly as disinterested in what’s happening as you’d first thought him to be. 

If the obvious tent of an erection wasn’t enough to convince you, the tail certainly was. He may have largely looked like a man, albeit one with big, attentively pointed ears and a cute black button nose, but he was still a Thiren. Still a wolf with all the hard genetic coding and natural instincts of one. 

It was incredibly hard to imagine that someone so polite and gentlemanly could really be hiding a predator underneath that well mannered facade, but there wasn’t any use in denying the obvious anymore. Clearly he was more interested in you than he’d let on. But then why go through all this trouble and approach the situation in such a roundabout way when he could have just as easily simply asked you out … unless he didn’t think you were likely to reciprocate his interest? 

Or maybe it was that he quite plainly didn’t know how to approach someone in a romantic capacity. 

“M - Master Lycaon - -!” 

“I think I may owe you an apology, my dear. I’m afraid I might have underestimated the full extent of this particular training technique. I must admit, I’m more than slightly ashamed of myself.” 

Sighing out a terse breath, he rather stiffly adjusts the way he’s sitting in the chair with a slow creak from the wood. Where you’re sitting on the floor you can tell that he’s trying to lessen some of the strain in his slacks but it clearly doesn’t do him much good. It probably shouldn’t have come as a surprise given his great height but he looked big through his dark pants. 

“To answer your question,” He goes on, a sheepish note creeping into his voice now. “I decided to check online for any training tips or educational videos that might be of use to you but I somehow stumbled upon some very interesting pages instead. I thought it all rather inappropriate at first but then I found one that implemented this kind of technique for training housekeepers and it seemed quite effective. The maids were all very attentive to their master’s needs so I thought … well, I suppose I thought this would work similarly even if I were to take away the sexualized factor at play in those clips. But I can see now that I was mistaken.” 

Your head positively spins at that explanation even though you’d already started to suspect it on your own. But it was still somehow vindicating knowing that you were right, that he’d gotten this bright idea from internet porn and now your pussy was paying the price even if he claimed he’d tried to remove the sexual angle from it. You weren’t so sure you entirely believed that, but you could question him about it later. 

For now you’re much too focused on tracking the movement of his hand as he reaches for his phone where it’s still sitting on top of the table. Judging by the remorseful expression on his face you could guess he planned to turn the toy off and call it a day, to go back to the drawing board for another idea, but you were a little too caught up in the warmth of your afterglow to allow that to happen. 

“Wait.” You blurt, clearly surprising him a great deal considering how he snaps his head back around to look down at you. Moving cautiously slow, you get your rubbery legs underneath you and push up to brace on your hands and knees, trying to catch your breath around the sharp throbs of arousal still making you shudder. Your pussy was horribly oversensitized in the wake of your orgasm but it felt mind numbingly good too, even with the toy mercilessly battering at your guts. 

God help you, but it felt good. 

“Don’t turn it off, Master Lycaon. I - aighh think we can still make this work …”

“Whatever do you mean?” He asks incredulously. 

Panting heavily, you will your body to crawl forward and it grudgingly cooperates even when doing so just makes you squeeze down on the vibrator in this position. You fight through it though, relishing in the sticky warm consistency of your cunt weakly trying to milk the silicone of something it simply didn’t have to give. That was alright though. If you played your cards right you just might get to feel something even better inside you soon enough. 

That thought keeps you going until you at last find yourself kneeling between Lycaon’s feet underneath the table, peering up at him from under the dainty drape of the table cloth. And it’s obvious he’s woefully unprepared for the sight of you like that because he squeezes his hands into tight fists along the armrests and just stares at you with a deeply anguished look. As if he greatly enjoyed seeing you like this but he wasn’t sure if that was alright or what to do with it. 

No matter. Now that you were no longer on such uncertain footing as before you could act with the conviction and confidence you hadn’t had earlier, and you find that this is much more natural for you than the wilting wallflower display you’d shown when you weren’t quite sure what to make of any of it. 

Decisively, you reach up for the belt buckle around his waist and his breath immediately catches with a sharp intake. 

“You are not obligated to do this. I admit I made a mistake in subjecting you to such an unorthodox training method, which in retrospect I now realize was quite shortsighted of me. But I swear upon my honor that this was not my intention here with you today.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Master Lycaon. You told me to focus on my master's needs and anticipate how best to serve them, didn’t you?” 

“Well, yes,” He hesitates, his one visible eye flicking between your face and where your hands are steadily tugging at the top button on his slacks. “But this wasn’t really what I had in mind at the time. I certainly don’t expect you to offer this kind of service to an employer.” 

Sending him a coquettish bat of your eyelashes, you start to tug his zipper down. “Of course not. You’re not actually my master though, are you? Aren’t you just pretending to be?” 

“Yes, but …” 

He doesn’t seem quite sure how to answer that one, falling silent as you finish getting his slacks open and gently start to tug them down his thighs only enough to expose his underwear. The thick, heavy outline of him is even more impressively obvious like this and you take a moment to carefully feel over that bulge before giving it a faint squeeze. Lycaon hisses a soft sound, a vaguely tortured look flashing across his face, but he doesn’t try to fight it. He just quietly watches you slip your fingers into the band of his briefs, getting your first good feel of that surprisingly soft fur when you begin to slide them down. 

The cotton momentarily catches on his length but one good tug is all it takes to have it springing up in the air just in front of your nose. You’re fascinated to find his cock is of a fleshy, smooth textured consistency that looks perfect for grabbing and sucking. Surely fucking too. And just like the rest of him it’s some delightful amalgamation of human and beast that doesn’t lean too heavily in either direction, something about its streamlined shape exciting you far more than any of the others you’d seen in the past. 

Your mouth hungrily waters as you rock forward on your knees to get a taste of him, the shift making your buzzing cunt clench down on the toy in a fresh rush of sensitive arousal. This may not have been the best method for teaching you how to effectively work as a maid but … 

If Lycaon had an interest in this sort of play you were perfectly happy to oblige him, even if it meant giving your boss the chance to ruin you for any other man or Thiren out there. It was a risk you were willing to take if it meant he’d fill you up with something much more satisfying than this measly toy.

⭐

Crossposted: here

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | nine

🐴Chapter summary: You haven’t talked to Jimin in months— he has been successful in avoiding you since he saw Yoongi kiss you. But when a charity gala forces you together, will you erupt like an active volcano? 🐴Chapter title: Take the Rain Away 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: yelling and curse words 🤭 Jin’s pink slipper is finally here (though it’s not him wielding it lol) 🩴 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 8.2k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

🛑 psa to all you lovely people on the taglist, I’ve seen that some of you aren’t interacting… I’m wondering if you’re still reading or not— do you wish to be removed from the taglist? It’s okay if you don’t like it anymore, I can remove you if you want to 🛑

🐴Now playing 💿 “Take the Rain Away” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: can you tell I wrote this chapter while severely depressed (as I did the previous)? 🥲 But, it was very easy to channel all my feelings into it, so I wrote it in like a day while crying most of the time. But here it is! Also, again I’m sorry. I’m really going through it and dealing with my depression, so I’m sorry if I take longer to reply… I do look at your messages though! I don’t know, life is hard and I’m waiting to get a referral from my doctor… all that shit takes such a freaking long time! But yeah, I’m still struggling, but I’m doing my best to hang in there; bad days and a few good days finally. Thank you all so much for reading and for sticking with the story, tbh there were a few times in the latest chapters where I just wanted to delete it all and stop posting.. But yeah, thank fuck🫂 Also… I really hope you’ll love the next chapter and please don’t hesitate to let me know your thoughts in either a comment or a reblog ☀️💦 🐴Author’s note #2: I'm sorry… today I'm feeling extremely emotional and anxious. It’s making me cry and my head is so heavy with a lot of thoughts… I hope you still like the chapter, right now I’m afraid it’s crap, so I’ll go hide (don't mind me, this is 50% my anxiety speaking). See ya on Thursday lovelies!

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

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“Take the rain away Take the rain away Give me hope Give me love Make it sweet from above Take the rain away Oh take the rain away Give me praise Give me heart Take the rain away”- ‘Take the Rain Away’ by Rebecca Lavelle

The rain pelts on your windows, a rhythmic symphony against the glass that serves as the melodic backdrop to your dance with the paintbrush. Each stroke elicits a clench in your heart, a poignant harmony with the emotions that escape onto the canvas. Despite a tear finding its way down your cheek, you persist. The canvas becomes a vibrant tapestry, weaving through an array of red hues, from the delicate blush of pink to the profound richness of vermillion. In this intimate dance, you surrender to the guidance of the brush, allowing the strokes to tell a story only your heart understands.

The paintbrush becomes the voice of your unspoken thoughts, an ethereal extension of your mind that guides you through an escape. It whisks you away to an alternate reality, a place where joy and serenity prevail. Yet, as you gaze upon your canvas, the illusion shatters – a mosaic of red tones, a stark reflection of your inner turmoil. You’re aware of the truth it conceals, reluctant to acknowledge the lingering ache for a man who remains silent, a man whose choices have been clear and that choice wasn’t you. But why the heck would he decide to date someone that looks like you?

The baffling revelation still eludes you, a persistent enigma that has gnawed at your thoughts for days since the girls disclosed it. The meaning behind it remains a puzzle, and you find yourself grappling with the uncertainty. There’s an urge to confront Jimin, to seek answers, but the apprehension holds you back. 

Instead, you retreat to the solace of your bedroom, losing yourself in the strokes of your paintbrush. Each canvas becomes a testament to your emotional turmoil, saturated in shades of red that echo anger and sadness. The thought of whether anyone would buy these artworks fades into insignificance; the therapeutic process takes precedence, offering a semblance of peace in the midst of your inner storm.

For a solid week, the relentless rain has played its melancholic symphony, a constant companion to your shifting moods. While you don’t inherently despise the rain, its prolonged presence begins to cast a subtle veil of gloom. The weather, once a neutral backdrop, now becomes a weight on your shoulders, a persistent force tugging at the edges of your mind, leaving a trace of subtle melancholy in its wake.

Perhaps a twinge of bitterness creeps in, accompanied by an admission of jealousy as you observe Jungkook becoming a frequent overnight guest. Their shared moments are anything but discreet, the resonance of their love making echoing through the walls. You’ve mastered the art of drowning out those sounds, resorting to nocturnal strolls when needed. In the depths of your heart, you yearn for the same intimacy, but with Jimin. 

You sigh, feeling utterly deflated. Life never goes the way to want it to. Why can’t you just have something good happening for once?

In the dead of night, raindrops patter on your skin as you venture out once more for a solitary walk. The rhythmic percussion of raindrops becomes a welcome reprieve, drowning out the less-than-subtle sounds emanating from your sister’s room. Ugh. it’s just great— now you can’t stand people in love anymore! Despite your genuine happiness for your sister and Jungkook, witnessing their affectionate gestures becomes a bitter pill to swallow. The kisses, the embraces, the whispered words—all of it, a poignant reminder of what you yearn for with Jimin. 

If only you could have that.

You know that jealousy is a nasty feeling and it leaves you feeling bitter inside.

The rain penetrates your jacket, seeping through to your skin—a subtle reminder of your lack of preparation. Cursing under your breath, you navigate through the yard, each step burdened with the weight of your drenched attire. As you reach one of the paddocks, darkness envelops you, the atmosphere dense and humid, mirroring the warmth and heaviness echoing in your chest. Yet, you yearn for this feeling to dissipate, much like the wishful thought that the rain will cease, allowing the sun to once again cast its hopeful rays upon you.

Lifting your gaze to the sky, the night sky unfolds above you, a vast canvas adorned with innumerable stars shimmering in their cosmic dance. A sigh escapes your lips, a blend of appreciation and melancholy. The celestial display, though undeniably beautiful, carries a bittersweet weight tonight, stirring emotions that twirl like distant constellations in the vast expanse above.

With the rain as your shield, you ponder whether it’s safe to return inside again or not. Opting to let the rhythmic dance of raindrops cloak you further, you choose the soothing drumbeat of rain over the potential moans echoing through the walls. It’s better to give them more time to finish whatever they are doing, instead of going back and having to listen to it.

As the rain clings to your clothes and skin, an uncomfortable yet strangely welcomed sensation, you yearn for more than just the soothing touch of the downpour. Hoping against hope, you wish the rain could wash away the turmoil in your chest, or perhaps, deliver to you the one thing you crave and need the most—love. 

Jimin.

In the recesses of your heart, the truth echoes loudly— he is the one meant for you, and the regret gnaws at your soul for not confessing your feelings earlier. The fear of disrupting and jeopardizing his current relationship hangs heavy, a bitter pill you swallow. His decision is made, and you must bear the weight of it. 

Frustration clenches your hands as you yearn for a conversation, a connection—anything to breach the walls he’s created, leaving you to wonder why he’s avoiding you or won’t acknowledge you at all.

As your breath quickens, tears intertwine with the raindrops on your cheeks, a blurred fusion where your own sorrows become indistinguishable from the weeping sky.

Your clothes cling to you, saturated by the persistent rain, and you decide it’s time to retreat from the star-studded night. With a silent farewell to the celestial display, you make your way back into the house, yearning for the solace of a quiet room, and silently hoping your sister and Jungkook have concluded their love making.

As you open the door and traverse the hallway, the muffled exchange of hushed voices reaches your ears, causing your heart to sink. Determined, you press on and step into your bedroom, conveniently situated next to your sister’s. Lately, you’ve cursed this proximity, contemplating the idea of seeking refuge downstairs in the guestroom.

The rhythmic creaking of the bed and muted moans persist, making you release a weary sigh, hastily snatching your pillow to shield your ears from the intimate sounds infiltrating the air.

Morning arrives, and you’re weary, having fallen asleep with the pillow cocooned around your head. Your once-neat hair now resembles a bird’s nest, and your body, feeling rigid and sore, yearns for the elusive embrace of a restful night’s sleep.

Fatigue clinging to every step, you drag your weary body to the bathroom, performing the mundane rituals of brushing teeth and washing your face. The mirror mercilessly reflects the under-eye bags, taunting reminders of restless nights. A scoff escapes your lips as you splash water on your face, a futile attempt to shake off the lingering exhaustion and rouse yourself from the morning haze.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, Jungkook steps out of your sister’s room, wearing a sheepish yet gentle smile. Weariness etched on your features, you respond with a weary nod, acknowledging his presence.

Apology etched in his expression, he inquires, “Did we disturb your sleep?” 

Concern lines his face, yet beneath the surface, a subtle smirk plays on his lips as his eyes sweep over your tired form.

“It’s fine,” you sigh, the weight of exhaustion evident in your voice, though deep down, you acknowledge that ’fine’ is a distant echo from the truth. 

“We’ll keep it down,” he assures, a warm smile gracing his features as he absentmindedly scratches his head. A soft chuckle escapes you, an acknowledgment of the genuine sweetness and kindness that radiate from him.

“Jungkook, really, you don’t have to worry. I’ll grab some earplugs or whatever,” you laugh, the sound devoid of true joy. Despite your attempts at humor, each forced smile or chuckle only serves as a reminder of the hollowness and sorrow settling in your chest.

Jungkook gives you a reluctant nod, a silent acknowledgment of your weariness and the deflated emotions you carry. With a heavy heart, you retreat into your room to get dressed, the weight of the morning and the unresolved thoughts lingering in the air.

As you descend and enter the kitchen, the comforting aroma of Ha-rin’s nearly finished breakfast fills the air. Offering a hand, you assist her in setting up the table in the cozy dining room. The rarity of having everyone gather for a meal is not lost on you; usually, you’re consumed by solitary, hurried bites as the demands of the ranch beckon. However, today unfolds differently, marked by an unusual slowness in the rhythm of ranch life.

“You look tired,” she observes with a gentle concern in her voice as the two of you collaborate in setting the table. A soft chuckle escapes you, a mixture of acknowledgment and self-deprecating humor. It’s as if they’ve pointed out the obvious—yes, you’re aware you don’t look your best, but must they bring attention to it?

“Thanks. Jungkook and Jessi kept me up again,” you respond with a weariness that seeps into both your voice and posture, a tiredness underscored by a stifled yawn.

As you turn your head, Jungkook and Jessi stand in the doorframe, wearing apologetic expressions that mirror the remorse evident in their eyes.

“We’re sorry,” your sister offers a sincere smile as she pulls out a chair, settling down. Jungkook follows suit, immediately diving into the meal with an eagerness that hints at his hunger.

“It’s fine,” you brush off their apologies with weary eyes and a nonchalant wave. “At least you’re getting some,” you jest, but an awkward hush descends upon the room. The atmosphere turns dense, and their uncertain expressions reveal they’re unsure how to react. “Don’t mind me; I’m just... frustrated. Not at you, though!” you quickly reassure them, taking a seat and joining in the meal.

For a few minutes, an uncomfortable silence descends, wrapping around the room like an unwelcome guest. It’s the kind of awkward stillness that feels stifling and peculiar, and you find yourself yearning for someone to break it, to utter anything to shatter the tension lingering in the air.

“We actually have something to tell you,” your sister begins, and as you meet her eyes, you notice a sparkle of excitement, maybe even love, dancing in them. Her happiness is contagious; a radiant smile graces her lips, and a delicate pink hue adorns her cheeks, complementing her beautifully. It’s a sight that warms your heart, pulling a genuine smile from you in return.

Jungkook gently moves his hand over Jessi’s, giving it a tender squeeze, and his eyes gleam with a radiant light, an unmistakable shimmer of affection, you presume. Their laughter dances in the air, and their shared smiles are like a silent declaration of the love that binds them.

“We’ve been meaning to share something with you,” your sister begins, her voice laced with a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Jungkook and I are dating,” she announces, and you can’t help but feel your smile broaden. You observe the subtle exchange of glances between them, a blend of happiness and nervousness, as if unsure of how you’ll react to this newfound chapter in their relationship.

Your eyes glisten with unshed tears, and you can’t help but beam, your emotions laid bare. “That makes me so happy to hear!” A single tear escapes, and you playfully scold yourself, but deep down, you’re overwhelmed with joy for your sister and Jungkook.

Your sister’s concern deepens as she leans in, her eyes reflecting worry. “Are you okay with this? You seem a bit sad…”

With tear-streaked cheeks, you point to your clearly emotional face, chuckling through the joyful tears. “This? I’m just thrilled for you. I just... wish I had that too. But I’m genuinely happy for you.” Sniffling, you manage a smile, though your plate is nearly obscured by your overwhelming emotions.

Jungkook, your sister, and Ha-rin exchange concerned glances, but wisely refrain from prying further. You believe they’ve caught on; your weeks of moping and the emotional rollercoaster have left little room for secrets. It’s ridiculous, you scold yourself internally, navigating the intricate maze of your own emotions. The irony of grieving a relationship that never truly existed weighs heavy on your chest, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sorrow for what could have been.

Genuine happiness radiates within you for their newfound relationship, and you don’t perceive it as strange. Sure, there was a fleeting encounter with Jungkook, as Jessi pointed out, but it was just that—a passing moment. You never harbored romantic feelings for him; your joy stems from seeing them genuinely happy together. Yet, an undeniable pang echoes in your heart, a yearning for that elusive connection you witness in them, to have that special someone— and that someone is Jimin.

Caught in the whirlwind of conflicting emotions, you grapple with the uncertainty of your feelings for Jimin. Every attempt to navigate this emotional maze has hit a dead end – avoiding him, attempting conversations that fall on deaf ears, and even embracing silence only to be met with his intense gaze. 

The enigma that is Jimin remains beyond your comprehension. Your desire for him lingers, leaving you in a perplexing predicament with no clear path forward.

“Relax your shoulders,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the rhythmic sounds of hooves against the earth, offering guidance as a fiery-red mare gracefully circles you in the pen. Perched atop the fence, Yoongi, accompanied by Hoseok, shares his insights. Lately, with the challenging task of taming wild horses, Hoseok has become an invaluable ally, contributing his skill and energy to the shared pursuit.

His involvement extends beyond mere assistance; he actively contributes to the preparations, occasionally joining your rides and, on other occasions, simply sharing moments as you engage in the day’s tasks. Today, he observes with keen interest, his presence an unspoken support in the rhythm of your work.

You attempt to find your focus, and you let your shoulders sag, reminding yourself of the importance of a calm and clear mind in handling the unpredictable nature of the horses. Despite your efforts, stress and frustration linger, making the task more challenging. Today seems particularly difficult. Your gaze repeatedly drifts toward Yoongi and Hoseok, seated closely. The air between them carries a subtle tension, Yoongi fidgeting with his shirt, an uncharacteristic unease marking his demeanor. It’s funny how being around someone you like can change the way you behave.

You let out a soft chuckle, finding Yoongi’s crush on Hoseok endearing. The uncertainty of whether Hoseok reciprocates, or even what his preferences are— if he’s into men, women or both. You have no clue, but you genuinely hope that Hoseok shares Yoongi’s feelings; knowing that Yoongi could use a guy like Hoseok in his life.

The red mare’s whinny echoes through the air as it breaks into a wild gallop, gracefully navigating the pen with powerful bucks. This one, a recent addition, demands more patience than its counterparts. However, you embrace the challenge, recognizing that each horse is unique, and you’re willing to invest the time needed to build trust and understanding.

You let the spirited mare run around the pen, attempting to divert your attention from its antics. Instead, your gaze returns to the two men on the fence. They’re engaged in casual conversation, possibly about work, but the genuine smile on Yoongi’s face has an inexplicable effect on your heart. Hoseok’s eyes light up at every word from Yoongi, and it feels as if your heart could burst into a garden of blossoming flowers. In that moment, you yearn for a connection as beautiful and captivating as the one unfolding before you.

As your gaze drifts, it travels up to the yard, settling on the house that holds the thoughts of the man who occupies your every waking moment—Jimin. The silence between you two persists, leaving you in a state of anticipation. Every now and then, you catch glimpses of him with Deiji, their laughter echoing through the air. Despite the small flower in your chest withering at the sight, you remind yourself it’s okay, even though anger still lingers.

“Watch out!” Hoseok shouts, leaping down from the fence with Yoongi in tow. Before you can react, you find yourself sprawled on the ground with a thud. A frustrated groan escapes your lips as you rub your back, rolling over to your side.

You spot Yoongi approaching the red mare, hands raised in the air, skillfully redirecting its attention away from you. Meanwhile, Hoseok is already down on his knees beside you. As your eyes flutter open, a wave of confusion washes over you.

Concern fills Hoseok’s voice as he asks, “Are you okay?” 

Your gaze meets his, lingering confusion evident. Meanwhile, Yoongi persists in his attempt to soothe the red mare, now employing a gentler approach, his words whispered in a hushed tone.

Your eyes lock with Hoseok’s as you ask, “What happened?” 

His outstretched hand becomes your anchor, pulling you up into a sitting position, your fingers instinctively rubbing your sore back again.

His words hit you, “The horse ran you over,” accompanied by a subtle chuckle. Yet, his eyes reveal a deeper concern as he carefully scans you, ensuring that you’re genuinely okay.

You glance around in confusion at the sandy expanse of the pen. 

“It did?” you inquire, perplexed, your gaze shifting down to the ground where you find yourself. You must have blacked out or something. You assess your body, feeling a general lack of pain, at least not as much as you expected.

“I think I’m fine,” you assure Hoseok, allowing him to help you up as you stand. You dust off the sand from your pants and shirt, trying to regain a sense of composure.

Yoongi, having calmed the mare, walks over to you. “Are you sure you’re fine?” he asks, raising a brow as he looks you up and down. You chuckle, dismissing any concern with a wave of your hand. There’s no need for a fuss over a simple fall.

“I’m fine. I was just pushed. No biggie!” you declare, gesturing with your hands to reassure them that everything is under control.

“Maybe we should take a look at you at the house?” Hoseok suggests, and you instantly flinch, a wave of apprehension washing over you.

“Oh god no. I’m fine, and I really don’t want to go in there,” you state firmly, a pressed smile on your face. The last thing you need is to see Jimin with Deiji again; better to stay clear of them, as you’ve been doing recently. Both Yoongi and Hoseok laugh, and you notice the way they look at each other, as if there’s something you’ve missed. For a split second, you feel left out before joining in the laughter yourself.

You ask Yoongi to finish working on the red mare while you and Hoseok take a seat on top of the fence. From there, you observe him letting the horse run about, much like you did earlier. Yoongi always appears so relaxed when he’s working. His ability to keep his mind sealed off and clear during tasks is incredible. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for you or Hoseok. The dynamic between the three of you is unique, each with your own way of approaching the work at hand.

The happy-go-lucky man next to you appears captivated by watching Yoongi work; his eyes shine as bright as the sun. The way he holds his breath, as if the air is too thick with something, sparks a glimmer of hope within you. Perhaps it’s because he might harbor feelings for Yoongi.

You meticulously apply eyeliner and mascara, ensuring you look flawless. Returning to your room, your eyes fall upon the elegant purple satin gown laid out on your bed. The floor-length attire boasts a sweetheart neckline, perfectly complemented by a pair of carefully chosen low heels that you gracefully slip into.

Before stepping out, you steal a moment to gaze at your reflection in the mirror, and what stares back at you is nothing short of captivating.

As you step outside your door, you encounter your sister, adorned in a floor-length gown of deep blue that borders on the verge of velvety blackness.

“Wow, you look stunning,” you compliment your sister, and she responds with a soft smile, her fingers nervously dancing with the edges of her purse.

“Thanks, you look incredible too,” she smiles warmly, and together you descend the stairs to join the other girls.

Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin await you downstairs, adorned in stunning gowns for the night’s gala in town. The charity event, featuring an auction, aims to raise funds for the local hospital’s children’s ward. Ara stuns in a radiant red dress, Soo-ah elegantly dons baby blue, prompting you to ponder if it’s her favorite color, and Ha-rin exudes sophistication in a black gown. The quartet, a vision of beauty, gathers in the kitchen, the air buzzing with excitement for the glamorous night ahead.

“Ready for an enchanting evening, everyone?” you inquire, casting a smile across the group, your eyes dancing with anticipation.

“Yeah!” Soo-ah cheers with infectious joy, and without a second thought, you all rush to the door, hitch up your dresses, and dash into the yard, the relentless rain already kissing your gowns with its playful touch.

You hastily hop into the car, and Jessi swiftly ignites the engine, reversing out of the yard. The rain’s symphony dances on the windshield, while the sun gracefully sets, painting the sky in captivating shades of gold and pink.

Jessi navigates the road with precision, and the group settles into a comfortable ease. Casual conversations and light-hearted jokes fill the air, yet your mind strays elsewhere, tethered to thoughts of Jimin. Anticipating his presence at the gala, you resolve to keep a careful distance, aware that the crowd might offer a shield for the avoidance you seek.

Navigating the rain-drenched roads adds extra time to your journey into town, but finally, you pull up in front of City Hall. The building itself seems to have donned its best attire for the occasion, adorned with banners and a vibrant red carpet that unfurls invitingly through the grand entrance.

As Jessi skillfully parks the car, you hastily step out, seeking refuge under the overhang of the building to escape the relentless rain. A quick scan of the parking lot reveals the presence of Jimin and Jungkook’s trucks, instantly causing a pang in your chest. The prospect of encountering Jimin tonight tightens your heart, and you brace yourself for the emotional storm that might follow.

“Ugh I fucking hate the rain,” Soo-ah groans beside you, her disdain for the downpour resonating with your own sentiments. Your chuckle, a small escape from the damp reality, lingers in the misty air.

Ensuring everyone is prepared, you lead the way into the grand hall. The opulence hits you instantly – a symphony of golds and reds creating a lavish spectacle. The vast space is adorned with small, round tables draped in rich red cloth, each topped with flickering candles. Towards the front, a podium commands attention, surrounded by carefully curated art pieces. Among them, proudly displayed, are a couple of your own paintings, awaiting their moment in tonight’s charitable auction.

Approaching the guys, you’re met with a sight to behold—Jungkook impeccably clad in a black tux adorned with subtle stripes, while Yoongi and Hoseok exude charm in their tuxedos, each strand of hair meticulously styled. Embracing them warmly, your attention shifts to Jimin, not far off, accompanied by his stunning girlfriend. The duo radiates elegance, and you can’t help but curse Jimin silently for his undeniable allure— his ass looks so good in those pants. His tux drapes his frame flawlessly, accentuating every curve, and you catch yourself practically drooling before quickly averting your eyes.

Spotting his gaze directed your way, you respond with a silent nod. Despite your desire to keep your distance, you choose the path of politeness, offering this small acknowledgment in the crowded elegance of the gala.

The room swells with a mix of familiar faces and strangers. Across the expanse, you catch sight of Namjoon and Seokjin at a neighboring table. With a warm smile, you extend a friendly wave in their direction.

As the auction commences, you navigate through the crowd toward a table, silently grateful for opting for low heels to spare your feet. A glass of champagne in hand, you join Yoongi, Hoseok, Soo-ah, and Ara at a table. Meanwhile, Ha-rin has engaged in a lively conversation with Namjoon and Seokjin across the room, their friendship evident even from a distance.

Jessi and Jungkook are stationed at a table alongside Jimin and Deiji, and a scoff escapes you when your gaze lands on Jimin. The silence between you two remains, a lack of surprise settling in as a familiar companion at this point.

He appears incredibly alluring, like a full-course meal, and something stirs within your veins—a concoction of anger and jealousy, perhaps. The desire to speak to him, to feel his touch, clashes with the urge to tear him apart. Later, the thought of dancing with him lingers, but the awkwardness stemming from his radio silence and the undeniable truth that he isn’t yours keeps you at a wary distance.

The auctioneer’s voice becomes a distant murmur, his words lost in the whirl of paintings and various items on the stand. Your attention, however, is not tethered to the auction; instead, it’s ensnared by the intensity in Jimin’s gaze. The way his eyes lock onto yours mirrors a familiarity, reminiscent of the look he gave you weeks ago during Jessi’s cast celebration dinner. The unspoken depth in his eyes unsettles you, inducing a subtle sweat, nervous energy, and an involuntary gulp.

With no refuge in sight, you attempt to anchor yourself in the rhythm of your heartbeat, a desperate bid to quell the storm of emotions swirling within you.

Indeed— sin personified gazes your way, but what does it matter? His silence, his refusal to engage, grates on your last nerves. You know you’re at an auction right now, and it would be weird to talk at this event, but dammit, he could just come over and ask you for a talk, pull you off to another room. Anything, really. 

A sly smile graces your lips as Yoongi playfully nudges your shoulder, and you, in turn, lean into the comfort of his presence. A subtle shift in Jimin’s gaze doesn’t go unnoticed, the intensity of his eyes deepening as the unspoken tension weaves through the air.

Hoseok playfully nudges you as your vibrant red painting graces the auction stage. Surprisingly, an elegant elderly lady becomes enamored with it, bidding generously and claiming it as her own. Gratitude swells within you, knowing that the proceeds will contribute to a worthy cause.

Jimin’s unwavering gaze continues to linger on you, an irritation bubbling within. You question why he can’t redirect his attention to his girlfriend or, at the very least, the ongoing auction.

The auction unfolds in the background, but your focus remains unyielding to the bidding, stolen by the persistent gaze of the blonde man. His intense gaze feels like he’s stripping you down with his eyes. Yet you remain nonchalant, indifferent to his silent advances.

During a brief respite, as delectable appetizers circulate the room, you discreetly savor the miniature delights, determinedly diverting your attention from Jimin as per your original strategy.

Abruptly, you interject into the group’s conversation, “Is there something on my face?” Their perplexed gazes pivot towards you, uncertain of the sudden inquiry.

As you munch on a bite of food, you nonchalantly toss in, “Jimin keeps giving me these intense stares, and I just don’t get it.”

Yoongi and Hoseok share a knowing chuckle, their eyes reflecting a camaraderie that Soo-ah and Ara immediately catch onto, shooting you looks of playful understanding.

“No, there’s nothing on your face,” Soo-ah says with a teasing smile, her words dripping with a playful undertone.

“Maybe you should talk to him?” Ara suggests, her voice carrying a gentle note of encouragement, like a flicker of a candle in the dim room of uncertainty.

“He doesn’t want to talk, and I hardly think this is the place for it…” you say, the words hanging in the air like a fleeting sigh, drowned out by the buzz of conversations around you as you take a thoughtful sip of your champagne.

You redirect your attention to the auctioneer, a black vase taking center stage this time. As the bidding unfolds, you indulge in another sip of champagne, feeling the effervescent bubbles dance teasingly across your tongue, a subtle distraction from the tension in the room.

As the final gavel falls, signaling the end of the auction, a wave of relief washes over you. The speakers come alive with soulful melodies, casting a warm ambiance over the room. To your surprise, the atmosphere becomes infectious, and you observe couples from other tables swaying to the rhythmic tunes. A chuckle escapes you, realizing you’ve never been one to dance at such formal events. Nevertheless, the music’s allure beckons, and you find yourself succumbing to the rhythm, ready to embrace the unexpected joy of the night.

Yoongi seizes your hands, whisking you onto the dance floor in a whirl of laughter and joy. The dance is a delightful blend of fun and friendship, his every move resonating with an infectious rhythm. As you twirl under the dazzling lights, you catch Hoseok’s gaze fixed on Yoongi. Leaning in, you share a whispered observation, “Hoseok’s eyes are practically glued to you, you know?”

His laughter reverberates through the air, a melody that resonates with a warmth you find comforting. “I know,” he chuckles, the sound a harmonious note in the symphony of the evening.

As he smirks, a playful glint in his eyes, you can’t help but reciprocate with a grateful smile. He twirls you around, a dance of understanding, letting you sway out of his embrace only to draw you back in. Oh, the dance you share with him is a temporary refuge, a wishful escape from the reality you yearn to change. However, your joy falters as you catch Jimin’s gaze; his eyes, far from angelic, hold a mysterious intensity that pierces through the rhythm of the music.

With a chuckle, Yoongi leans in, “Jimin’s got his eyes on you too.”

“I’ve felt his eyes on me since we walked through that door,” you admit with a sigh, your gaze wandering over the dance floor where your sister twirls with Jungkook, and Ha-rin gracefully dances with Seokjin.

“You should consider talking to him,” he suggests again, but you dismiss the idea with a subtle shake of your head.

“I doubt it would make any difference, honestly,” you laugh, pressing your body into Yoongi’s. His warmth envelops you, and for a brief moment, in his embrace, everything feels like it might just be okay.

Taking a step back from Yoongi, you express the need for a break. As you make your way back to the table to sip on more champagne, you observe Yoongi inviting Hoseok to dance, a proposal met with a willing agreement. Soo-ah joins you at the table, casting a gentle gaze in your direction.

“You danced with Hoseok?” You inquire, your gaze softened with curiosity.

“I did,” she admits with a smile. “He’s a really nice guy.” You nod, acknowledging her words. However, you can’t shake the understanding that someone in your circle might end up with a bruised heart, considering both Yoongi and Soo-ah have affections for Hoseok.

As you watch Hoseok and Yoongi gracefully moving on the dance floor, impressed by Hoseok’s skilled control over his body, a genuine smile plays on your lips. However, that fleeting moment of joy is interrupted as you sense the weight of brown eyes piercing into your back. Turning around, you find Jimin dancing intimately with Deiji, the intensity of his gaze making your smile fade.

You observe Jimin and Deiji dancing cheek to cheek, their bodies pressed tightly together, making you scoff and redirect your attention to Soo-ah. Just as you try to shake off the unsettling sight, a tap on your shoulder interrupts your thoughts. You turn around to find Hoseok, his bright smile inviting, “Do you want to dance?”

You seize his hand, allowing him to whisk you onto the dance floor, reminiscent of how Yoongi did earlier. Hoseok effortlessly twirls you around, evoking laughter that bubbles up from deep within. Knowing you’re not the most adept dancer, you surrender to his guidance, and he proves to be exceptionally skilled at leading you through the dance.

Amid the enjoyment, a surge of audacity overcomes you, prompting an uncharacteristic move. “What do you think about Yoongi?” The words spill out unexpectedly, catching Hoseok off guard, a reaction vividly displayed on his face. A chuckle escapes you as you revel in the spontaneity of the moment.

“What do you mean?” he asks, catching off guard. 

Unable to contain your mischievous grin, you lean in and tease, “You know he likes you, right?” As the words escape your lips, you’re conscious of the trust you might be breaking but convinced that mingling is the key to any potential connection. Hoseok, though initially shocked, isn’t repulsed as you feared. Instead, his eyes widen, and a subtle pink tint adorns his cheeks, leaving you wondering how he’ll respond.

“He does?” Hoseok stammers, caught off guard and missing a beat. Your chuckle only intensifies as you nod in confirmation. The revelation lingers in the air, and you sense that you might not have to do much more to set things in motion.

As you continue to dance, a comfortable silence envelops you both before Hoseok breaks it, his words hanging in the air, “You know Jimin likes you too.”

You roll your eyes, well aware of the situation. “Yeah, not much to do about it when he has a girlfriend,” you admit with a wry smile. Despite Hoseok’s good intentions, you’ve firmly decided not to act on your feelings while Jimin is still in a relationship. It’s a line you won’t cross.

You dance a little longer until Yoongi is at your side again, grabbing your arm and pulling you into his embrace. He wears a curious smile as he asks, “What were you talking about with Hoseok?”

You chuckle softly, “I told him.”

He glances at you, a puzzled expression on his face, “Told him what?”

“That you’ve got a crush on him,” you declare, matter-of-factly, in a hushed tone meant just for the two of you. However, with the rain tapping on the roof and the music playing, it’s a challenge to catch every word.

Yoongi’s expression doesn’t exactly radiate joy, but there’s a subtle softness to his features, an almost-relaxed demeanor. He releases a frustrated sigh, raking a hand through his hair in apparent exasperation.

“I’m sorry. I know it isn’t my place to say anything. But he actually seemed intrigued!” You share, your words riding the rhythm of the music as you sway with Yoongi. His tension eases, and he responds with a soft expression, a subtle acknowledgment of the revelation.

“It’s okay,” he breathes out, “it wasn’t your place, but it’s fine.” 

You lean into him, embracing him gently and offering a reassuring pat on the back. In that moment, you catch Jimin’s gaze fixed on you once again. The repetitive stares leave you puzzled. Why is he focused on you instead of his girlfriend?

You feel your heart quicken, your nostrils flare, and your hands clench around Yoongi’s back. He pulls you away, confusion etched on his face, questioning what’s wrong. But you see red. It’s reached a boiling point. The anger simmers inside you, consuming every inch of your being, and with determination, you let go of Yoongi and stride purposefully over to Jimin and Deiji.

Standing before them, you take a deep inhale, a turbulent storm of emotions brewing beneath your skin. “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?” Your voice slices through the ambient sounds, a piercing question that fractures the comfortable cocoon around Jimin and Deiji. Jimin slowly turns to face you, his expression shifting from surprise to a somber acknowledgment, as if he’s been caught in the act of something he’d rather keep hidden.

“Shouldn’t your eyes be on your girlfriend, huh? Why the fuck do you keep gazing at me? Look at your damn girlfriend!” you hiss, your hands tightly clenched at your sides, radiating with anger.

“And while you’re at it, why the fuck can’t you talk to me like a normal human being?” you raise your voice, the anger boiling so fiercely within you that you feel breathless as you unleash your words.

“You’re a damn coward, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be casting your eyes my way when you have a girlfriend right there!” You jab your finger accusingly at her, and she flinches, uncertain about how to react. Jimin simply gazes at you, as though you’ve lost your marbles—and maybe you have, because the words keep pouring out.

“You fucking jerk. If you had the decency to communicate, to use your damn voice instead of making baseless assumptions, we wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation!” You huff, the waves of anger radiating from your body. The sudden realization hits you that the entire room is now fixated on the spectacle, and an eerie silence envelops the space, punctuated only by the intensity of your heated words.

Yoongi steps up beside you, a silent force attempting to ground you, but you refuse to yield. The torrent of anger surges within you, and with an accusatory finger, you unleash your fury on Jimin.

“I fucking hate you! You’re stupid. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I love you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” Your words, laden with venom, spill from your lips in a torrent of conflicting emotions. You seethe, feeling strangely lighter, though the room spins around you. Yoongi releases your arm, his face a mix of shock, and confusion mirrors the peculiar glances from those around you, leaving you wondering why everyone is now looking at you even more strangely than before.

“You fucking bastard. Stop looking at me like that,” you hiss at Jimin, catching him off guard. Deiji wears a displeased expression, and Jimin’s features soften in a way that leaves you utterly bewildered. 

Deiji appears visibly irritated, and you’re left wondering if her frustration is directed at you or if she shares your exasperation for Jimin. As the tension simmers, Jimin unexpectedly breaks into laughter, his audacity fueling the fire of your anger. The laughter grates on your nerves, aggravating you further. Why on earth is he finding amusement in this situation? There’s nothing remotely funny about it, intensifying the blaze of your already fiery emotions.

You jab your accusatory finger at him once more, your voice cutting through the tension, “Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!”

Your voice may carry the tone of an angered child denied its desires, but you couldn’t care less. In this moment, you’re finally confronting Jimin, even if the conversation seems to be one-sided.

You observe as he parts his lips, ready to utter words that you don’t wish to hear.

“I don’t want to hear it! You know what? I’m done!” You hiss in frustration, ready to pivot away from the awkward situation, aware of the collective gaze of all the guests upon you. As you start to turn, Jimin’s firm grip on your wrist stops you, compelling you to face him again.

“You can stick your dick where the sun doesn’t shine!” You shriek, wrenching your arm free, and storming out of the building. The erratic thumping of your heart resonates like a dissonant ringing in your ears, mirroring the chaos within.

Gasping frantically for air, your breath catching in turbulent spasms, you step outside, feeling as if your body is unraveling at the seams. Collapsing on the stairs, you surrender to the tremors of anger pulsating through you. Attempting to regain composure, you strive to slow your breath, but the task proves as challenging as holding back a tempest.

Regret floods your senses, a torrent of remorse for every word unleashed in the heat of anger, half of them lost to the haze of fury. The weight of all eyes fixed upon you, their gaze searing into your soul, amplifies the desire for the ground to open up and engulf you whole. 

What transpired in that room, and how did it all spiral into such chaos?

A symphony of hooves shatters the tranquility of your peaceful slumber, jerking you awake. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you hurry to the window to witness the commotion outside. In the distance, a captivating spectacle unfolds — a wild herd of horses, led by the majestic brown stallion, thundering across the landscape. These creatures have become frequent visitors, drawing nearer to the ranch with each passing day. Curiosity grips you; what secrets do these untamed spirits carry, and why do they venture closer to your haven?

With a contented sigh, you wearily make your way back to your bed, sinking into its welcoming embrace. A spontaneous yawn escapes, accompanied by a luxurious stretch that sends waves of relaxation through your well-rested body. The simple joy of a peaceful night’s sleep settles over you, like a comforting blanket enveloping your weary soul.

Entering the bathroom, you brace yourself for the day ahead. Under the rejuvenating spray of a quick shower, you allow the cascading water to serve as a cleansing force, washing away not only yesterday’s mistakes but also the lingering regret that clings to your every thought. The steam clouds your reflection, a metaphorical veil between the past and the potential for a better today.

The bracing cold water jolts you into wakefulness, a refreshing prelude to the day ahead. As rivulets of water cascade down, you ensure every trace of sleep is banished, emerging invigorated and ready for the rigors of another day on the ranch. Donning a weathered shirt, worn-in pants, and your trusty boots, you complete the ensemble with the signature hat that shields your face from the sun’s relentless gaze. Descending the stairs, you find Ara in the kitchen, skillfully crafting a sandwich for her morning appetite.

“Hey there!” you chirp, a grin lighting up your face, buoyed by the rare joy of a restful night’s sleep. A subtle acknowledgment forms in your mind—thankful for your sister and Jungkook opting for a night at his place, granting you the serenity that fueled the upbeat mood.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Ara inquires, her attention focused on putting away the butter, as if carefully choosing the moment to meet your eyes.

“Actually, leave it out. I could use one too,” you interject, and Ara obligingly retrieves the butter, finally meeting your gaze. “As for how I’m doing—just fine.”

She hands you the butter and a knife, a wry smile playing on her lips, “Some party, huh?”

She chuckles, and you roll your eyes. The weight of her laughter only intensifies your embarrassment, a vivid reminder of the scene you created at the gala. You find yourself wishing for the ground to open up and spare you from the aftermath of your emotional outburst. Why did you have to make such a spectacle?

Damn you and your relentless emotions. Now the whole world, or at least everyone at the gala, knows the depth of your disdain for Jimin, you assume. You bury your face in your hands, releasing a frustrated grunt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to create such a spectacle.”

Ara’s laughter rings out, much to your dismay, intensifying the furrow in your brow. You don’t see the humor; you’ve practically made a fool of yourself in front of everyone.

“Well, we all had a blast,” she laughs, a beautiful smile playing on her lips, “I’m sure Jimin is having a good laugh about it too.”

You roll your eyes once more, highly skeptical. After all, you called him so many terrible names, didn’t allow him a word in, and basically told him to stick it in his ass.

Wonderful. Great. Peachy. Words that utterly fail to capture the chaotic storm of emotions swirling within you at this very moment. The vivid memories of your passionate outburst yesterday haunt you, casting a shadow over any semblance of composure. There’s a lingering wish to escape the possibility of encountering Jimin and his girlfriend again, but deep down, you acknowledge that luck doesn’t favor you so generously.

You hastily slather butter onto your bread, devouring it in its pure simplicity. The imminent need to depart gnaws at you; the day awaits, beckoning you to gallop over to the Bell ranch, where the untamed spirits of the wild horses entwine with the shared endeavors of you and Yoongi.

“I have to go,” you declare, snatching the bread in your mouth, and dash outdoors toward the barn. The sun, now radiantly shining, bestows a sense of hope upon your day, propelling you forward with anticipation.

As you saddle up Marshmallow and guide him outdoors, a faint sound begins to patter on the roof—a soft, rhythmic reminder of the rain.

Out in the open, the rain embraces you in seconds, a relentless downpour that draws a scoff. Undeterred, you plant your foot in the stirrup and swing the other leg over, urging Marshmallow into a full gallop. The rain pelts your face, but you ride on, indifferent to the weather’s challenge.

As you ride, thoughts of Jimin’s expression at the gala linger in your mind. Despite his initial composure, his face betrayed offense and anger, as if restraining the urge to shout back. He stood there, his girlfriend by his side, absorbing every word you hurled at him. Regret tugs at you, but the words are irreversible, a turbulent exchange you can’t undo, even if you wished otherwise.

A yearning lingers within you, hoping that Jimin would have retorted, engaged in a verbal sparring, or at least defended himself. However, his silence echoes louder than any words, leaving you to ponder the significance of his unspoken response.

You sense that words were poised on the tip of Jimin’s tongue, ready to spill out, but a conscious decision to shield yourself from his potential revelations compelled you to shut down any communication before it began.

The peculiar weather paints a contradictory scene: raindrops cascade, yet the sun defiantly radiates its warmth, creating a surreal ambiance. In the midst of this meteorological paradox, a double rainbow graces the distant horizon. The sight, both enchanting and whimsical, elicits a genuine smile, urging you to spur Marshmallow into an even faster gallop. Each rhythmic beat of his hooves seems to synchronize with the cadence of your heart, a determined attempt to outride the persistent thoughts of Jimin that linger in your mind.

As the ranch emerges on the horizon, a welcoming sight after the turbulent events, you guide Marshmallow down to the pen where Yoongi and Hoseok eagerly await your arrival. Skillfully securing Marshmallow to the fence, you exchange greetings with the two men, the atmosphere pregnant with anticipation for the day’s tasks on the ranch.

Hoseok’s laughter greets you even before you utter a single word, prompting an eye roll from you in response.

As Yoongi dedicates himself to the fiery-red mare once more, you find your way to the fence, settling in next to Hoseok with a sense of camaraderie.

“Nice gala, huh?” Hoseok teases, raising his eyebrows in a way that suggests he’s well aware of the evening’s drama. You respond with a loud groan, wondering why people find the need to rub your failures in your face.

“Shit. I regret how I behaved. It’s so embarrassing,” you confess, closing your eyes as if wishing to erase yesterday from existence.

“I understand. But it was fun to watch,” he laughs heartily, his entire being pulsating with mirth.

You shift your gaze downward to Yoongi in the pen, “Have you noticed the herd of wild horses getting closer?”

Yoongi nods knowingly, “Yeah.”

You observe the mare’s lively movements before turning your attention back to Yoongi, “What do you think it means?”

Yoongi looks up from the mare, his expression serious, “Nothing good.”

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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[luridon]

Tedium

A story of a murderer and a man who can't die.

♡characters: yandere!regenerator x criminal!reader

♡warnings: MINORS DNI, blood, murder, captivity, masochism, unwanted and unrequited affection, gore, blood, violence, infantilization, black comedy, MINORS DNI

♡notes: setting with superhuman abilities, you aren't seeing much of that though lol

♡w/c: 1k+ | ♡masterlist♡

You stay calm as you angle your wrist, then plunge the blade into his neck.

Silver slips through pale skin, drawing red as smoothly as a pen with crimson ink. The blood that spills is so unremarkable you're almost annoyed. Hue, temperature, viscosity- every element no different from any other's. It would be lovely if its owner were just as normal.

Unfortunately, Raphael only blinks.

He tips his head despite the deeper tear the action makes, looking up at you through long lashes flecked with spots as red as his eyes.

His hand curls around yours. His hold is of a gentleness that you register as innate rather than weakness from blood loss, much to your disappointment. With a single, quick yank, he draws the foreign object from his neck, blood gushing over both your fingers.

It takes mere moments for the torn, stained skin to stitch smoothly together. A few more moments, and he laughs, his throat and its vocal chords already whole.

The blood on your hand paints his lips like rouge when he kisses it.

You hate his smile, the unbroken lips and the teeth complete in shape and number. You hate his face, every inch of skin and blood vessel still reflecting all the ethereal, spotless beauty of a marble statue's.

"It was a good try," he says cheerily, and you hate his voice too, so unaffected by your little act.

You want to punch him, but even doing so with the scissors between your fingers would only leave a mark on you. You sigh, hand going limp, the blades dropping.

You are so sick of this.

You turn to leave, only to be grabbed and dragged onto a lap. "Oh don't be like that, it was cute!"

You simper, leaning close and smiling sweet. "You'd be cuter dead."

"I can pretend again, if you'd like."

Your smile falls as ungracefully as dead fish. Your face turns back to one of irritation and disgust.

He had played dead weeks ago. The little hope that soared in your chest as he lay motionless on the floor lasted until you got the first doorlock open, whereupon he miraculously sprang back to life, declaring you heartless for leaving him on the ground. That had been the best sixteen minutes of your life.

Your fond recollection of that blissful quarter-hour is ruined by your unfortunate still-living seat shifting forward. You can feel the damp blood on his neck smear your shoulder and sleeve.

His lips brush against your cheek.

"Dearest," he mumurs tenderly.

"What?" you retort untenderly.

You can hear the laugh in the puff of air he exhales, yet another reminder of your failure. Damn regeneration. You curse his blood, his bones, his pumping heart and the lungs giving them air.

He twirls a lock of your hair around his finger. "Do you intend to cut my hair at all, or is only murder on the agenda today?"

Your hand reaches up to the top of his head and slides down, the stroke drawing a pleased little hum from him. His long, snowy locks slip through your fingers-

And you yank hard enough to hear a crack.

The position is uncomfortable, from the angle of his shadow. Disconcerting to most who'd catch even a passing glance. Wrong the way all snapped bones look wrong. And yet you find yourself counting.

And one, and two, and-

Another sharp crack ripples through the air as he snaps his neck back.

"Ouch," he says obligingly.

You release him and slump as you glare sullenly at the wall. His arms encircle your shrimped form, your arms dangling as you slouch and stare at nothing.

"Come on, you can make me bald again!"

"Once again. I was trying to lobotomize you."

"And you can do that again too!"

You glance back at him, unimpressed. He smiles brightly, the very image of an angel with his flowing hair and gentle eyes.

"You. Are a freak."

"And you," he cooes, "are adorable." He, of course, punctuates that with a playful bump of your nose with his own.

You lean away from him, breaking that small contact as though it matters when he's embracing you already. You resist the urge to spit at him, because he'd taken the last instance of it as an invitation to trade saliva through a messy, finesseless kiss. You had taken that as an invitation to clock him, which seemed to excite him more than the kiss had. Truly, there was no end to your suffering.

"Don't be so gwumpy, you really are cute, you know."

"Stop talking to me like a baby."

"How should I talk to you when you're acting like one?"

You shift your strength into your arms to hold his limbs tight to your body, and roll to the ground. He tumbles down with you, and you think you see him flinch from how he lands on the scissors. He's bleeding from somewhere as you shift him to his back, his half-cut hair fanning out behind him. With his light clothes and the red stains, it's like you're pinning a bloodied bird to the snow.

You tighten your grip around his neck, snarling. "How about you talk like someone about to die? How. Do I. Leave? "

He only grins at your tightening hold. You can feel the heat creeping up his neck, see the blood coloring his cheeks. Kinky bastard.

You drop him and stare at the door and its endless locks. The bio scan is easy enough- the man beneath you was all to glad to leave his DNA everywhere- but the other measures, now those were plaguing you. There was only so much lockpicking and thievery could accomplish with the sheer number and complexity of whatever puzzle hell that thing came from. If you had inhuman intelligence, you could have solved it. If your skill lay in metals or tech, perhaps that would help. If you were a pyromancer, maybe you could melt through. Alas, all you could do was inflict pain, and doors couldn't feel.

Fuck your power honestly. Good in combat? Usually. A quick distraction? Definitely. Useful for torture? Absolutely. Any help when stuck with a masochist in who-knows-where? Not. At. All.

You only pry your eyes from the door when you're pinned to the ground. Your captor looms above you, a knee between your thighs. The friction is as annoying as it is ineffective.

Raphael pouts at your empty stare. "I swear you love that door more than me, sometimes."

You clasp your hands together cutely under your chin. "I'd love if you opened it."

"Hmm. No, I don't think so."

You roll your eyes.

He sighs, fond. You're tempted to grab the scissors jutting from his thigh to stab his heart through his ribs, but that would only make one of you happy here.

He takes scissors and tosses them aside himself. A still-living body lays beside you. A bloodstained hand holds your own, and a head sticky with drying fluid leans against you as you stare at the ceiling.

"I hate you," you grumble, not for the first time.

"That's fine," he smiles, his breath warm, his fingers tight as you catch his gaze in the corner of your eye, saccharine and sickening.

"I love you anyway."

♡a/n: i drew him

[lavender--fairy]

HEYY FAIRY!! I DID IT !! I MANIFESTED MY DESIRED FACE!!! okay i really wanna go in depth with this ask since i finally manifested my desired face. So i followed you just because you mentioned about how you manifested your df and i've tried and failed so many times its actually crazy. When i started i would affirm day and night (failed),tried self concept (failed), then i tried to enter the void (failed), tried shifting to a reality where i had my df (failed) and then you started posting edward art stuff and i am not even lying when i say it freed me in ways i didn't know i could be freed, i read all your posts and infact i would eagerly wait for your next post, i'd keep refreshing your blog in hopes that maybe you'd post and when you did i'd read it a thousand times ( i even have all your posts written in my notes just in case you decide to deactivate lol fan girl behaviour? yes) Anyways so i read your "be a doer" post and i decided to actually feel that i was who i wanted to be instead of thinking of it, it lasted a few days but i kept pulling myself back up since my college starts soon and i just cannot go looking and feeling the way i used to, so there was this burning desire to have what i wanted unlike any time before. But i had a hard time persisting and i figured out it was because i wasn't imagining what i want and because i kept switching my df like every other day (i got this from the "feeling and self" post you linked from edward art) so i took my time to figure out a face i loved and when i tell you it got so easy to persist (because i was imagining what i always wanted and it felt so nice that i naturally wanted to keep going back to feeling it) i did have a few doubts here and there but i read your posts and edward art's posts and i'd be back on track. There were alot of things that would bother me like 3d, the future, the past but when i imagined all of this didn't matter, i had my df right here and right now (i also manifested other stuff to build faith that the 3d will reflect no matter what, especially when i had thoughts like "what if it doesn't work?") nothing changed for a few days but i was busy imagining another thing that i did was i was trying to fix my appearance like instead of imaging my new face i'd imagine how i could fix my current appearance but i realized i dont have to do that, i can imagine a completely new face, a face that i loved and felt confident in. AND TODAY I WOKE UP WITH MY DESIRED FACE, I WAS SO SURPRISED LIKE OUT OF NO WHERE??? I LOVE WHEN THE LAW SURPRISES ME LIKE YESTER-NIGHT I WOULDNT HAVE EVEN GUESSED LIKE WTFFF?? UGH I LOVE EVERYTHING RIGHT NOW I AM LITERALLY DANCING IN MY ROOM RIGHT NOWWW!! i dont have to be insecure and hide when someone points a camera at me ?? i am being treated better?? i am soo soo confident and sooo ready for college !! Thank you so much fairy i can feel warm tears roll over my cheek as i write this, i couldn't have done this without you thank you for freeing me, i will always and forever love you !! thank you

hey butterbean!! wow wow wow this is just amazing honey and your journey feels so close to my heart. I just cannot express how happy i am for you!! So so so proud of you that you did not give up!! i hope your life is full of joy !! sending love!!

[hwadess]

[00:28] stoner!yunho (s)

this is actually my first fic ever on this account and i haven’t really kept up with writing since like 2019??? lol… here goes nothing! i did not fully proof read this so if there are any errors pls let me know 😭 also, i feel like this goes without saying but obviously i know weed is NOT legal in south korea, but this is a work of fiction and i like having fun. i am 100% projecting. yep! anyways,

warnings are underneath the cut!

MINORS DNI, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!

remember, tumblr’s algorithm works off of reblogs. i love and appreciate likes but please reblog my work as well if you like it ♡ much love!

warnings: reader has female anatomy and is called gendered terms associated primarily with females, !!!usage of marijuana!!!, dom!yunho, some light stoner terms, reader tells yunho to stop but doesnt mean it, size kink, use of nicknames/pet names/titles (baby girl, tiny, angel, doll, good girl, yuyu, sir), obv strong language, unprotected sex (please always stay safe during sex!), creampie, fingering, cunnilingus/oral (f receiving), degradation, humiliation. if i forgot any i will add!

word count: idk i edited it in app and lost track (jk update its 3,479!

your friend group was definitely a crazy one, hosting escapades you could never imagine by yourself, making so many memories. all of your firsts were with your friends by your side. hell, you would be with your friends every single second of every day if you could, but today when yunho came home talking about how he had someone in the group find some really good weed, you knew you had to try it alone with him. even though you knew you’d definitely hear from wooyoung about it later. yunho told you that he was sworn to that it would create one of the best highs you had ever faced.

god, you were hoping that his friend was right. you knew how you were when you smoked, you were excited. of course, the two of you could not waste such an opportunity, right?

your head is filled with warmth as your body started feeling floaty, the harsh coughing from the first hit of this third blunt really helping the feeling set in. the drug began to hit you even harder at this point, turning your entire world into a dizzy, yet comfortable daze. you look over at yunho, eyes half lidded from the effects of the bud, bright with the reflection of the led lights that outlined the corners of your bedroom walls.

you took a second to absorb every single detail of his appearance, his hoodie somehow big on him, making you wonder how you’d look wearing it, remembering how big he is already. he was wearing sweatpants, the string on it tightened just enough to hold them loosely around his hips. the weed had the gears in your mind grinding even harder than usual, he looked fucking amazing.

you don’t know if it was the overwhelming urge to be close to him, or what got into you, but before you knew it, your leg was thrown over his lap, and you were there, straddling him on the sofa in the bedroom. taken back by this a bit, yunho breathlessly laughs before cocking a brow at you, head lolling back lazily along the back of the couch from laughing. you take your almost completely cashed blunt, placing it in the ashtray beside the two of you, immediately bringing light kisses to the part of his neck thats barely exposed by the oversized hoodie. fuck, he was so perfect.

that’s all it took, his body began to react what seemed almost instantaneously, his hips subconsciously pressing against you, starting the process of getting hard, as he grabbed your waist for leverage.

“ooh what’s this, pretty girl,” he cooed out, pushing your hair back out of your face, exposing all of your features even more to him. you were so pretty, “some weed got your little pussy wet?”

“no, you did,” you barely managed, the breath barely leaving your lungs. he smirked at you before tapping your side, automatically remembering that’s his sign for wanting you to raise your arms to sneak off your shirt.

“well, i’d better take care of this little problem i created, don’t you think doll?” with large yet gentle hands, he eased you off his lap on the sofa to take you to the opposite side of the room to his bed.

the room was coated in a haze of smoke as the bed creaked ever so quietly underneath the weight of you two. the harsh smell of this particular leaf clung to your senses but you were used to it, the smell didn’t bother you as much as you thought. even if you weren’t used to it, you weren’t sure how much you could even pay attention to the smell of anything when your tall boyfriend was pulling off his sweatpants to reveal his semi-hardened cock. your mind was full, the thoughts mixing in your head, enough to make you fucking dizzy. the effects of what you smoked had long since taken over, you were feeling so much.

“you wanted to start this, so go ahead.” he said, moving back onto the bed with you and then laying down against the bed, head on the pillows, gesturing down with his chin.

you knew better than to act stupid. your whole body shuddered when you looked up at him and saw him wearing the cockiest smirk you swear you had ever seen in your life. he was gonna be the death of you.

you crawled on top of him, taking the same position you had on the bedroom sofa, but this time you took his thick cock in your hand, positioning the tip of him at your entrance.

“wait, angel” he interjected, grabbing your wrist to make you release his cock. your swear your need was about to boil over any second now, mind burning with the thought of how close he was to filling your needy hole up.

“do you think you can take me like this?” he asked, looking at how big his cock looked next to your cunt. you stared back at him, blinking blearily, you were overtaken with confusion and the empty feeling in your chest having the pleasure of his cock that was so tantalizingly close ripped away from you, so hungry for his cock buried in you.

“just a couple more things, doll,” yunho adjusted in his spot, putting pillows underneath the back of his head, so he was laying up a bit more. he brought one large hand to your waist to stabilize you so you stayed still on your knees above him while his other hand slid between your thighs, spreading your folds to run his finger down to find your wet entrance. when he felt the arousal seeping from you just by gliding his fingers through your slit, he hummed softly, sinking two digits inside you which drew a pathetic cry from you.

his fingers were coated in your wetness as he pulled them out, but he still took a moment to tease you by brushing the pads of his fingers along your clit and dip his fingers in just an inch or so a few times until he was satisfied enough with how worked up you were. it wasn’t until yunho retrieved it that you realized he had his unfinished blunt tucked behind his ear, licking off his fingers coated with your juices before grabbing the lighter on the nightstand and lighting it, unexpectedly blowing all the smoke right into your face, making your eyes burn with tears. if they were from the smoke, or from need, that you weren’t too sure of.

“alright pretty baby, you should sink down for me,” he ashed his blunt before looking back at you, cocking an eyebrow at you, making you shiver.

his eyes were on your shaky ones as you eagerly positioned him at your entrance. the moan you let out as every single inch of thick cock grazed against against your walls menacingly slow was absolutely sinful. the neediness in your moan made yunho’s cock twitch inside you as you slowly worked him deeper into your wet cunt.

“now that’s a good girl, huh?,” yunho groaned out, one arm beneath his head on the pillow and the other gripping your waist. between his lips was the blunt, smoke going up in a helix from the burning tip and the corner of his mouth as he panted, feeling your tight walls squeeze him, filling up your little stretched out cunt.

your body was so sensitive to every touch, every single feeling running through your body. you could feel yunho’s cock everywhere. it was so overwhelming. all you could think about was how delicious it felt that his cock was ramming into that one particular spot that made you feel like you were going to pass out right there on his dick splitting you open.

your whole body was so sensitive from the pot, so much so that you found yourself on the edge quickly. your body began to tremble harder than you have before and you gasped out to your boyfriend, hands reaching to bring him closer,

“fuck. i’m gonna cum.” yunho laughs, feeling your cunt clench around his cock, “already, huh?” he mocks you, taking another hit while he watches your trembling fingers leave the grip on his shirt to find your swollen clit to hurl yourself into your crashing orgasm. your hips spasmed uncontrollably and your cunt was squeezing him as you came all around his thick cock, but you continued to ride him, abandoning your clit in favor of going back to grabbing onto his hoodie for leverage.

“fuck, tiny, you’re so good,” he grunted, rutting his cock up into you deeper. “yuyu, y-your c-cock is… s-so g-good,” you barely managed to choke out, bottoming out and grinding your clit against the base of his cock as you felt another orgasm already building in your tummy.

“gonna cum again?” he laughed this time, making your cheeks sting with humilation, but if anything this fueled you working yourself over the edge for him until you were trembling on top of his cock once more.

“fuck!” you yelped out, focusing on your bouncing to aim his cock to brush against the spot that feels the best. you didn’t even give yourself a break, eager to find your next release, eager to make him cum. you just wanted to be so good for him, all you wanted him was for him to fill you up with his cum.

yunho was basically panting, skin glowing shiny under the blue led lights in the room as a light coat of sweat coated his forehead, and he couldn’t deny that you looked so gorgeous right now. he adored when you were so insatiable to the point where you lost your mind on his cock, using him as your toy to make yourself cum. he was more than happy to sit there and let you take what your body needed.

and you, you were a sight for sore eyes. sweat beading over your body with your head thrown back, as you ground down on him with your little cunt filled with his long cock. you had already cum so much already, and you weren’t sure how much or what time it even was. time was a blur at this point, and it was the last thing you were gonna think about. the creases of your thighs, as well as his were both covered in your cum, creating sloppy, loud wet noises every time your skin met.

you were positive you had stained the bed beneath the two of you now, there was no way it hadn’t. it was filthy and you both fucking loved it.

“fuck, yunho!” you pathetically wailed, holding yourself down as deep as possible once you bottomed out, reaching down with a desperate hand to brush against your swollen clit gently enough to initiate the most toe-curling orgasm out of yourself that you think you have ever experienced. yunho groaned, pulling the blunt out of his mouth to blow a lungful of smoke back into your face as you gasped for air from cumming so hard.

“god, i can fucking feel you cum like that doll,” he groaned, tucking the rillo back in his mouth in to grab onto your tits, relentlessly pinching your hardened nipple between his fingers.

“jesus fucking christ,” you groaned, placing your hands behind you on his thighs, using him for leverage as you began to bounce onto him again. you had no idea how the burn of your thighs wasn’t bothering you as much as it should’ve been, but you just equated it to the thc flowing through your system. “you feel so fucking good, yuyu, fuck!”

“what was that?” something shifted in him, watching you through dark and heavy eyes as you lost yourself on his cock. his cock twitched in your cunt so hard, “your tiny cunt’s so fucking sensitive, couldn’t stop cumming even if you wanted to, huh?”

“fuck. yuyu, i’m gonna cum.” the nickname took his breath away, he loved how pathetic and small you looked while hungrily bouncing on his cock, calling him such a cute nickname. he could never admit it but the nickname made him fall apart, but he wasn’t going to admit that. yunho hisses, feeling your cunt clench around his cock that he swears has never been this hard before.

your head went blank, everything was subconscious at this point, digging your nails into the skin of his thighs, grinding your clit against the hilt every time his cock filled you to the brim.

yunho scowled, seemingly unsatisfied that you weren’t answering him. he sat up slightly, tangling a hand into your hair and gripping a fistful tightly to force you to stop bouncing on him, making your eyes meet his worriedly.

your pupils were blown, eyes shining with tears of need. your body was trembling above him as a sign that you were desperately close to another orgasm, and he stole that from you. this was the first time he had really moved since you got onto the bed, and the sight of him taking another long, thick hit, tapping off the ash off the side of the bed carelessly, and then blowing the smoke right into your face with a blank expression had you clenching pathetically around him.

“hmm, i asked you a question, angel,” he cooed, speech a little mumbled as he held the blunt between his lips again to free up both of his hands. wrapping both hands around your waist to shove you onto his cock the deepest it could possibly reach.

“i, i didn’t hear what you asked…” you whimpered, his cock making contact with your cervix from the angle he was sitting at now.

“i know that. poor thing,” he loosened his hold on your hair to move to cup your face almost a confusing amount of gentle, “so fucked out on my cock you can’t even think? is that what’s happening here?”

“y-yes sir,” you whimpered, the attempt to grind down against him unnoticed failed as your clit throbbed so painfully from the neglect.

“sir, huh? cute. sir fucked you dumb?” he smirked, reaching up and taking away the blunt completely now, putting it fully in the ashtray that was at the nightstand.

“y-yes,” it was a small reply, not able to get anything out that was more than that. you just wanted to cum for him again.

“my stupid little baby girl,” he chuckled, his lips against yours. you immediately responded, the pot aftertaste lingering in his mouth. you wrapped your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss as you began to bounce on him again.

“fuck,” you cried, feeling close as you ground your clit against his pelvic bone every time you sunk down onto him. yunho lowered himself back down against the pillows again, but this time, he wasn’t letting you take control in any sort of way this time. he started to fuck up into your dripping cunt instead of leaving the work to you completely.

“rub that clit tiny, cum on my cock again,” he panted out, grabbing your free hand, which had been busy playing with your nipples, to press your fingers against flush your clit. “fuck that’s it,” he praised when he felt your pussy flutter around him, watching you gently circle the bud as you rode him to your high.

the sight of you just using his body for your own pleasure while feeling your warm cunt wrapped around his throbbing cock was beginning to become too much, he could feel the heat of his own orgasm beginning to sneak up on him. the amount of self control he’s able to show after all this time was still astounding to you, and you just wanted to break that and let him paint your insides with his cum.

“fuck, fuck, i’m cumming again,” you got out in between broken words and gasps for air, thighs trembling as your high washed over you so hard it almost hurt. this time, the force from the orgasm was so intense you were unable to hold yourself up and you leaned down to rest your face against his chest as you panted and trembled through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

everything happened way too fast, and suddenly you found yourself on your back with yunho towering above you. his cock slipped out of you in the process, making your hole clench pathetically when you realized you weren’t full anymore.

“what are you doing…” you whined, arching your hips in a lazy attempt to get him back inside you.

“im gonna eat you out,” he mumbled, instantly lowering on the bed until his head was between your thighs. “oh fuck, you’re soaking,” he used his thumbs to spread your folds apart, exposing your entrance and swollen clit to the chilly air in the room. “how many times have you cum?”

“i don’t remember,” you muttered almost lifelessly. it felt so nice to be lying on your back again and giving your legs a break. you were so gone at this point, how could you remember?

“what a slut,” he growled, dragging the flat of his tongue against the tip of your clit, before shoving his tongue into your hole, coating his tongue in your delicious juices. your hands shuffling to yank at his hair when he used the tip of his tongue to graze your clit gently.

“holy fuck, that feels so good,” you whined out, arching your hips to grind against his tongue, making him chuckle.

it was unfair, how fucking good yunho’s cock felt in you, and how he had a sinfully good mouth. the feeling of his tongue licking over your swollen bud and you remembering how good his cock felt filling you up just minutes ago had you you cumming so much, spiraling into another screaming orgasm. this time, however, as your eyes rolled back and you let out a shriek of his nickname that he loved so much, you felt yourself utterly gush against his tongue.

“fuuuck,” yunho growled, sitting back on his heels before immediately sliding into your embarrassingly wet cunt without a second thought. the noises that came when he sunk into you would have embarrassed you if you not for the weed and the adrenaline pumping through your system.

“c-can’t anymore, yuyu, please stop,” you whined, but made no attempts to halt him as he began pounding into your sopping wet cunt.

“fuck. i. got. you. babygirl,” he whispered through grunts, attempting to give your lips little pecks although his deep and rough thrusts offset them a bit. “can you cum once more for me?” he panted out, eyes scanning over your fucked out, dumb expression.

“if you cum in me,” you compromised, drawing a dark change in his eyes from him as he nodded.

“anything you want, tiny,” the two of you fell into relative silence aside from your whines and moans mixing with his grunts and the wet sound of his cock fucking so deeply your cunt. he licked his pretty fingers before reaching down to spread your lips open and found your swollen clit, brushing against your bud softly as he knew how sensitive it would be and it felt like someone was shooting electricity down your nerves.

he continued to fuck you until you reached your last high, thighs clamping and trembling around his waist and your hand ripping his away from your throbbing clit. with a handful of powerful, deep thrusts, ropes of his thick cum were filling you up, and a long drawn-out groan came from his sweet lips.

the both of you were still for a minute, just sharing a moment to take a few deep breaths as his cock softened inside you before he pulled out, making you gasp from the realization of how spent your hole was. his cum leaked out of you, dripping down onto his blue comforter. he sighed, before catching it with his fingers. he brought his wet and soiled fingers to your lips, and you eagerly took them into your mouth with a small whimper; the bitter flavor of his cum spreading over your tongue.

watching yunho sink his exhausted body down to force your thighs apart wasn’t an uncommon occurrence when the two of you were done. you were tired but you sighed, letting your eyes gently shut as his tongue slid between your folds to catch the mixture of both of your cum thats leaking out of you profusely at this rate, while being gentle enough to not even brush against your clit anymore tonight.

“i love you,” yunho pets your head, fingers combing gently through your hair, “so good for me.”

“i love you, yuyu,” you hum. you don’t think you’re ever smoking with any of your friends present ever again.

[artsyannierose]

Nene’s Dead Corpse and her ghost bf

randomly made a crap ton more sense to me

why?

fricking school (screw school I hate you (no not rly I’m just stressed))

Anyway I’m a biomed class where unit 1 is studying medical investigations forensic science style

and one of the things is like, what happens to a person after the body has been dead for a while (post mortem or sum, see im learning :D)

Things like algor mortis, livor mortis, I’ve heard of. In fact I’ve even studied the clouding of the corneas before, but it never got to me till today

maybe it’s cause I cannot for the life of me study forensics without my wild imagination giving me nightmares or just panicking when I’m alone but aNyWays

I tend to imagine characters associated with death in these scenarios so I don’t lose it in class💀

*cough* Nene *cough cough*

So as I was taking notes on the slideshow, some of the images of clouded corneas reminded me strangely of something familiar, but at that point I couldn’t tell. There’s something haunting about the eyes (or maybe it’s just my over-analytical brain loving small details like this) they’re GORGEOUS

LIKE

IDK THEYRE PRETTY

Maybe it’s ‘cause the true color of the iris is completely visible in all its glory, without the pupil obscuring it

(something like this?? A little vivid tho lol)

but like

there’s no

life

no reflection, no emotion…nothing (which is so hauntingly beautiful leave me alone I’m a sucker for this now)

it’s literally just an eye with nothing but color

and then it hit me…it’s exactly the look Nene had when Mirai fast-forwarded her time

you can see in the image it’s just her plain magenta eyes with a fuzzy de-saturated blob in the center…aka clouded corneas

And that honestly made me realize that in this scene she’s not—she’s not even unconscious

No she’s literally, physiologically dead

THAT IS A CORPSE HE IS HOLDING

she is literally a dead body this hits me so hard😭😭

and I can imagine algor mortis kicked in by then, her body was probably cold to the touch

so imagine how he felt, and I’m aware people have analyzed his emotions but just think about it

he’s always seen her so full of life and hope, and now all he has left is an empty shell of her, cold and dead with no life left inside

…just like him

the more I think about it Hanako is just an animated corpse

he has no reflection in his eyes most of the time because he is ✨dead✨

I mean Mei, Mitsuba, and Hanako don’t have a little white reflection dot like Nene and Kou

Or maybe I’m overthinking it and Nene’s eyes are just super reflective

even for someone who presumably took his own life, he probably never saw tsukasa’s body start postmortem and actually feel dead bc it looked extremely bloody ngl (I’m guessing he killed himself right after 💔)

and now he’s holding someone he cares about like this for the first time and I’ll bet that scarred him

and he figured out that never, never ever did he ever want to see his sweet assistant like this again, lifeless in his arms

and so after that, cue Hanako in his villain era who basically became a yandere the entire picture perfect lmao

and he was unbelievably adamant about it too

I mean honestly if I held anybody I knew lifeless like that I’d be scarred for life and crying for days

seeing the light drained from someone’s eyes is so interestingly sad to me

Look at the difference:

Happy

vs Sad/Determined

vs Depressed (ig??)

vs Dead

She still has so much emotion in her eyes

and then d e a d

literally looks like a porcelain doll

wait she looks so pale in the last image compared to the others now that I think about it

I love aidairo’s eye for detail it’s so fun to figure out

Well anyways thanks for coming to my Ted Talk essay atp-

IT’S PAST 1 AM AND I SHOULD BE STUDYING FOR SAID BIOMED CLASS AND HERE I AN GOING ON A TANGENT ABOUT A FICTIONAL CHARACTER’S EYES

send help

anyways excuse me while I grab a box of strawberries to munch on and cry my eyes out all over my homework before I sleep-

[yellow-computer-mouse]

Moot what is being a therian like? I've only ever really heard terms like shifting. It being a therian a choice? Can it be a choice? Also do you have one of those cool masks? :3 do you know where to get them?

I've always been really interested in therians and non-humans in general and ik the basics of how its mostly a spiritual thing. I just feel like I should ask someone who experiences all that

Also you don't have to answer anything! Just curious :] /gen

OOH!!!!!!!!!! THANK YOU FOR THIS I LOVE YAPPING ABOUT COOL STUFF!! /gen

i'm gonna answer these questions first and then get to the big one

Being a therian can be a choice! The correct term is otherlink. However, I don't care what labels people use! go crazy!! /gen

For me, it's not a choice! I'm just a lil kitty/dragon (/possible god of fucking wind from fucking epic the musical but that's different)

I do NOT have a cool mask bc I'm closeted + idk where to get them... they're probably on amazon! I'm so sorry I wish I knew (btw! masks are completely fine to wear if you're not a therian!! in case anyone was curious)

Being a therian is a spiritual thing for a lot of us, but not everyone! :)

anyways, now for the biggie: what it's like being a therian! keep in mind this is my experience, and also I'm going to be yapping about being fictionkin as well

Being a therian, for me, doesn't impact my day-to-day life much. I don't have trouble connecting with humans. I do, however, kind of hate seeing my face in reflections. Not fun.

I always used to hate the cold, and while I do still prefer warm weather, I've found brisk fall weather kind of comforting since awakening (Norwegian forest cats and IceWings live in colder climates (especially IceWings jfc). Actually, cooler wind triggered a shift for me today lol (still going btw!!!!! i love being winter wings of fire lol)

It makes it hard to look at my hands sometimes, because they're not paws. I also sometimes have a (very weak) phantom tail/ears! It's pretty fun, got a big ol bushy cat tail!

That's all my yapping, tysm for the question Joone!! i am always open to questions about any of my identities lol :3

(also in case ur curious.. my kins are Snowfall and Winter and a Norwegian forest cat!)

[grumpybunny-edith]

Gwen's Bunny HRT - Month 1 (Part 1)

I look at my reflection for what feels like the hundredth time today, waffling on how to do it. All the other girls have already gone through all this, and compared to their one-month photos, I feel... Behind. Delilah had already started growing fur in some places, and Edith already had a little bit of tail growing in. Sure, it looked a little weird without any fur on it, but... I’ve got nothing there but soreness. Is it even worth celebrating? Like, “oh yay, my ears look longer if you squint and my teeth look a little sillier”.  

I take a deep breath and dig my toes into my carpet, feeling pain flare up in them. It just started a couple days ago — maybe it would be better to wait until something came of it? Until walking on my toes didn’t hurt so bad, or even felt better than walking on my heels? 

I feel a tiny impulse at the small of my back, my spine apparently doing its best to wiggle at its base. Am I... unconsciously wagging my tail? The soreness that comes with it matches what the other girls had talked about. I smile, showing my reflection my weird teeth and the pain subsides a little. 

“Bunnies wag their tails when they’re upset,” Edith had told me once. It’s warming to feel how right she is, to feel like I actually belong, even for a second. It’s not that the other girls haven’t done a good job of making me think so; it’s just hard to see all of them so far along and then to look at myself. 

I set my phone down and stare at myself for a while. I imagine the fur suddenly sprouting up all across my body, shiny and soft. I imagine my ears getting so tall they graze the doorway. I imagine my tail, tiny and fluffy, poking out just about the hem of my sweatpants. It makes me smile and laugh at myself, and I feel a bit of pride in my teeth. They’ll look better coupled with everything else, I think. 

I hear my phone buzz, trying to avoid convincing myself it’s because my hearing has spontaneously improved. I laugh it off and check what it was. 

raeraebun: Hey girl!! Today’s one month, right?? Where’s the update??

I smile and blush instinctively. Rae and I don’t chat that much, but every time we do it lifts my whole mood. She’s also dropped by my place a couple times because she “made too many brownies and just had to make a delivery”. 

wen-kutesuli: Hey! Idk if I’m gonna do it today honestly lol 

raeraebun: Aww, why not? i mean like do whatever you want obvi but. you okay?

I sigh. I know I can probably tell her, it’ll almost definitely be fine, and she probably has something great to say. But it doesn’t make it any easier to say it. I’m almost embarrassed to still feel the way that I do even after her and Edith’s constant preaching of “loving yourself wherever you are”. 

wen-kutesuli: Yeah I’m okay lol. Just kinda 

wen-kutesuli: Wish I had more to show, I guess? 

Rae’s response comes quite literally instantly. 

raeraebun: GWENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

raeraebun: okay 

raeraebun: lemme show you something 

When Rae comes back after a couple minutes of digging, she sends me a picture of some random girl with hair like her own, followed by five closeups of a pretty standard human ear. 

raeraebun: so like

raeraebun: this was from january last year 

raeraebun: Id been on hrt for like. a month and a half to the day

raeraebun: I had taken a picture of myself every day since starting my regimen

raeraebun: and didnt see anything until that picture when FINALLY 

raeraebun: my ears had grown the tiniest little bit. 

raeraebun: I didnt stop screaming about it all day lol ashley got so sick of it 

raeraebun: and yk what happened next?

raeraebun: they stayed just like that for three more weeks LMAO

Rae has this way of making people smile and cry their eyes out at the same time. 

raeraebun: so... be nice to yourself? its not gonna happen all at once, and thats ok. every little bit is worth, like

raeraebun: I dunno 

raeraebun: a thousand parties

wen-kutesuli: That’s a lot of parties 

raeraebun: and you earn every single one of them :) 

I sit in stunned silence so pleased I don’t know what to do with myself. My body wants some kind of release, and I let it have one, laying face down and kicking my feet so quickly and so hard into the floor it probably upset the people below me. 

raeraebun: you dont have to, but we all wanna celebrate with you :D 

wen-kutesuli: Thank you 🩵 Maybe I’ll do it 

raeraebun: YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

raeraebun: GO GWENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!

---

Thank you to @flightlessbirdgirl for helping me decide on Gwen's username and for letting me bounce ideas off it!

Next

[dykementality]

forgive me if you're not interested, but I'd actually love to hear more of your thoughts on the maroon arc, what you thought was/wasn't done well. would u like to share?

hii i didnt see this. im gonna apologize right away bc this is not gonna be organized i have talked soooo much today already and im tired lol.

for starters what i think was done best is flint and madis dynamic. its incredibly well played both as individual characters and as representatives of pirates and maroons in relation to empire. their chemistry is crazy and their dialogues are extremely didactic. i also find that flint not immediately viewing the maroons as natural allies but as tools to reach his own purposes and later deconstructing that after getting involved with them aggregates to his ongoing theme of progressive radicalization which i think is also a highlight of the maroon arc in the way it makes it explicit for good that his political stance has done a 360 and is now entirely discordant from the one he had as a lieutenant in every aspect that matters. freeing and partnering with the maroons is expected after that and i dont think theres anything special on that regard. then the shitty parts are essentially everything else. especially steinberg admitting he stalled to really explore the topic of slavery due to not being in his element as a white guy but still not putting black people on the team to do it. this reflects very obviously in the show and makes the entire arc feel rushed and reticent besides leaving a billion loose threads and missing opportunities to appropriately explore character dynamics that couldve been way more interesting (such as silver/julius/flint & madi/eme & madi/eleanor & eleanor/scott) and really engage confidently in the impact that flint and the pirates having canonically sold slaves would have had in their relationship. speaking of julius i also very much felt like it was a tragedy to hinder his presence and had they started it earlier or extended it longer his perspective on war vs. protecting his community as opposed to madi’s for example would have been probably my favorite part of the arc. i know the version in my head of it is. all in all its a vital arc for the story and everyone slayed really hard with with they had i just wish the creators hadnt shied away from all the implications of it. if i had the energy to go look for some posts for u i would bc my mutuals have definitely also discussed this before but alas. thanks for asking anyways feel free to add ur own thoughts or question mine further

[for-a-longlongtime]

On Dieter, Goya's Black Paintings, and Pedro on Talk Art 

Alright y'all, it's Saturday evening, I have nothing better to do (I actually do but I don't feel like it), so welcome to my mini TED Talk about 'how to pay too much fucking attention to the Pedro cinematic universe'. None of this is new, and maybe everybody already knew about this, but I didn't... so here's a nerdy tangent courtesy of googling/wikipedia-ing.

I was reading a Dieter!fic (this one right here by @chaoticgeminate - go read her writing!) earlier today, which refers to the 'Saturn Devouring His Son' painting - that giant mural Dieter is working on in The Bubble:

(his brush isn't even touching the wall tho, ha)

The original 'Saturn' by Goya

The fic mentioned its part of 'The Black Paintings', so I got curious and started googling. I'm no art major or expert, so please allow me to just paraphraze the Wikipedia page. 'Saturn' is part of a group of 14 Goya paintings that are called Pinturas Negras/The Black Paintings. They "portray intense, haunting themes, reflective of both his fear of insanity and his bleak outlook on humanity" --this was late in Goya's life, and was connected to several illnesses he had experienced (and the fear of relapsing) and political turmoil in Spain at the time (post-Napolean war, changing Spanish government, etc.

Trivia fact 1: Goya actually made these paintings right on the walls of the Quinta del Sordo (so-called Deaf Man's villa) where he was staying -- so I love that Apatow had Dieter also paint right on the walls.

Trivia fact 2: while Goya was living in this villa, he actually became gravely ill (again) - not by a pandemic obviously, but it's hard to not link that loosely to the COVID period. He had never intended for these 'Black Paintings' to become public; "these paintings are as close to being hermetically private as any that have ever been produced in the history of Western art" (the murals were eventually transfered to canvas by other folks once he had moved out of the villa). Switching back to The Bubble -- I love how the tragic influence of Goya's illness(es) and art/things 'made at home away from the world, not intended for an audience' (so obviously, in a bubble) has that connection to the COVID experience and how many folks were suddenly homebound, along with the burden of illness in many ways (lord knows this all did a serious number on our mental health). In the movie, Dieter and the others do not want to go into isolation again, but that solitude is what eventually led him to painting on the walls in his room. This is not a 'grand discovery' of any kind, but I got a kick out of the parellels once I read up on it - and honestly makes me appreciate the movie a bit more, haha.

Not happy about another quarantine period.

Alright, more hyperfocusing after the cut:

Some googling led me to a post from last year by @nicolethered (gifs in this post are hers), and she included screencaps of the walls of Dieter's room (during that drug scene), which I hadn't even noticed while watching the movie. Upon taking a closer look, I noticed they're outtakes from other pieces of Goya's Black Paintings! I thought that was really cool, they sure worked on the details with that set (there's one more that's shown in a different shot but I can't exactly figure out which outtake that is):

First one is a mirror image from Two Old Men Eating Soup and the second one is basically Satan aka 'The Great He-Goat' from the Witches' Sabbath painting. Which IMO makes for fucking hilarious perfection a.k.a. trivia fact 3 -- because we all know about Dieter and his little emotional support goat, LOL. Excellent connection.

*insert sound bit from Hot Ones interview* : "Just let me love you!"

Anywaaay there's more. The Bubble was shot during Feb 22, 2021 to April 16, 2021, right? Pedro has spoken about how his input in shaping Dieter was mostly regarding his outfits (the Crocs, the robe, etc). But then I suddenly remember the Talk Art interview he had done in 2018, and how he namechecks 'The Dog' by Goya - and lo, guess which painting is actually part of the 14 Black Paintings? Yeap - the dog! So I checked the podcast and he was asked, 'if you could be any painting, what painting would you be?' by Russell. Here is the painting, and below it is what he said on Talk Art:

'The Drowning Dog' by Goya

"I think… it's a Goya. Yeah, old school. I think it's called 'Dog Buried in Sand' or something like that. It's so… I remember feeling it was such a visual representation of helplessness, in such a… come on, let's all admit that helplessness is a very recurring feeling for many of us, you know what I mean? When it comes to so many things. I guess… I was in Spain, in Madrid, and I was 20. And I went to the Goya museum. What's interesting about it is that the head of the dog is really quite small and sort of adorable, it looks like a stray mutt, and the painting - if I can remember it correctly - is very rectangular. There's so much above him, like the world just seems so big. It's quite incredible, isn't it? I know it's really sad, and sort of dark, and maybe I really like enjoy perceiving myself like..." (He gets interrupted by Russell, and then continues;) "Yeah, he's certainly not dying, it's sort of - it's a moment", (then interrupts himself with;) "Maybe he's totally dying, there's no way that dog is getting out of that. That dog is SO fucked. Anyway, that's the painting that represents my life". (All three of them burst out into laughing.)

If you're still reading this - I am impressed with your dedication to my silly little post, haha. Anyway, I just thought it was so striking that there basically is a straight line from the painting he mentioned in Talk Art to what Dieter is painting in the Bubble. Makes me wonder if perhaps he - or even Russell/Robert - had any input in that part of Dieter's backstory.

Thank you for attending my TED Talk on artistic analysis of Dieter Bravo during COVID, we now resume your regularly scheduled program for Saturday night. 🤪

(Have I been smoking because a local dispensary actually had 'Mando' bud? I sure as fuck have and I blame that for this post.)

[thecollectivefixation]

A deep dive into the MK1 cinematics (PT1?)

Hi, I'm a nerd and I like breaking apart scenes for small details and hidden meanings that adds to the overall story. For my first official post on The Collective Fixation blog, Mortal Kombat 1 is going to be topic subject today. I’ll be talking about random scenes in the game and trailer that I found really cool and some of the relationships between characters. (I actually blame my family for introducing me to MK1 the other month and I’ve literally not stopped thinking about it so lets get into it hehehe.)

!WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Ok MK1 is definitely in my top three list of best looking cinematics in video games.

This scene from the trailer was my favourite because it uses the lighting in the building as a medium for foreshadowing. Scorpion (Kuai Liang) being in the warm, bright lighting while Sub-Zero (Bi-Han) being in the cool, dark lighting. The light side referring to Liu Kang as he is first seen with light around him as he ascends down and Shang Tsung representing the dark side as he steps out of dark shadows revealing himself in the trailer. Foreshadowing the betrayal and the two sides of the story that occurs further on in the story.

When Smoke first gets introduced he is seen under red light which can indicate danger or a sense of evil, paired with the dramatic shift in music from calming to almost a startling shift into a intense music. This convinces the audience to think that he is the antagonist in that current moment. The extreme close up on his face shows off his emotions, which is difficult to do since he has the mask on, so actors have to get creative with their facial expressions. We see this with the intense look Smoke has when surveying the area, indicated with his eyebrows and eyes. Also the camera pans left to show off more red light on his face. The camera is below his face making a low camera angle, low camera angles most commonly indicate a sense of power, strength and intimidation to the subject in frame.

(Side note: Live Laugh Love low camera angles, you see them so much in this game and I love itttttt)

The film codes (technical and symbolic) in the scenes between Johnny Cage and Kenshi Takahashi play an important part in the growth of their relationship. When Kenshi is revealed to the audience, the camera pans up from his feet to his sword to his face leaving in at a low camera angle. This increases dramatic tension by slowly revealing to the audience what Johnny sees. When taking in account of the music changing to a upbeat fighting kind of soundtrack the audience makes the conclusion of you guessed it danger, antagonist.

(Ofc cause he isn't the actual villain in the game but as the time he is lol)

(Side note: i love the way the game developers made it so the cameras seems hand held or on a dolly and not fixed in place, seems like we are in the game/story experiencing everything with the characters.)

Not that important but I love how the light from the pool reflects off both Johnny and Kenshi, its all about the details.

Now lets talk about THE SLOW MO BETWEEN JOHNNY AND KENSHI. Gotta admit, it caught me off guard a little, because normally a slow mo is used to focus on a character’s emotional reaction to a person, place or event in that current moment. And after thinking long and hard, I have come up with a conclusion on why the directors made this decision.

To show the tension between Johnny and Kenshi. Kenshi at the beginning of the story does not like Johnny or his ideals, its shown between dialogue when talking about their reasons to becoming Earthrealm defenders and Kenshi disapproval. And is the base of why they interact in the first place, because Kenshi wants Sento and Johnny wont give it over. The slow mo focuses on kenshi’s facial expression of aggravation and intensity about his fight with Raiden and about Johnny’s bad sport man ship in the previous scene with Johnny vs Raiden when Johnny’s ego was talking was basically he talked down Raiden’s abilities. This contrasts Kenshi’s ideals of honour.

(side note again, I haven't done a full deep dive on their characters nor have I done a deep dive on a character so I may have gotten some stuff wrong but I haven't fully played the entire game yet I'm like halfway rn so yea)

Ok that’s all for now, I’ll maybe talk about more scenes once I fully play through the game. Feel free to share your options because I love talking about these kind of things.

-Bookworm