#its spelled bicycles

[feelin-frazzled]

Woah there michael that's some nice lawnjarray you've got there 👀

[authorhjk1]

Incantations of the old moon

(Seulgi X Joy X Yeri X Male Reader)

Joy coughs as she blows up dust by moving one of the bigger boxes to the side. The wooden floor creaks where ever she steps as she keeps rummaging around.

"If I had known he was gonna leave me hanging again..."

Joy mumbles as she moves another box to the side.

Her grandparents asked her, if she could clean and reorganize their attic. Joy didn't like the idea at first. But her grandparents are already quite old. She knows they won't be able to do it. At least not alone. And maybe she could find something interesting up here. Maybe a photo book of their childhood, or more pictures of their wedding. She used to love her grandma's stories about how she met her grandpa. And some objects of that time are probably lying around here somewhere.

If only Joy's boyfriend hadn't cancelled a minute before the two of them were supposed to leave. Her grandparents live a couple of hours away and so she had hoped for a nice and relaxing weekend outside of the city, together with her boyfriend. But he only told her he had to head to the company and off he went. And he still didn't send her a text to apologize.

Joy sighs as she picks up a huge and unfortunately heavy frame of a beautiful painting. She carries it across the small room, before leaning it against the wall. The physical exercise eases her mind a little and cools her temper. But her anger hasn't completely vanished yet.

Another huge box, full of books, finds itself dragged across the wooden floor. Once she lined it up next to the other boxes, Joy takes out the book on top. A novel. By the looks of it maybe 20 years old. Not very interesting. She puts it to the side and keeps browsing. But most of the books turn out to be thrillers, fantasy novels and romance books. Some of her grandma's library.

Two more boxes get turned upside down, until Joy finally squats down and opens the last untouched box in the room. This one contains older books. And she gets lucky. The second book bears her grandparent's names on the front page. The young woman slowly goes through the book, a never ending smile playing around her lips. There is her grandfather standing next to a bicycle, raising his hand and smiling at the camera. Another picture shows her grandma on the back of a horse, riding through a huge field. The last page only shows one picture. Their wedding day. The two of them stand side by side. He wears an old fashioned suit, while she wears a beautiful hanbok. Joy carefully caresses the photo, seeing both of their happy smiles.

A sudden wind almost makes her loose her balance. She closes the book and looks at the wide open window. She opened it earlier. Right? Joy doesn't remember, but she probably did. It can't just open itself.

She puts the book aside and checks the box for more hidden treasures. But to her disappointment, the rest of the box is made out of more of her grandma's book collection. Joy is about to give up, when her hands close around the last book lying on the bottom of the box. Its cover seems to be made out of red leather. But time has turned it into a brown tone. There aren't any letters on it, or any decorations. Not even on the back.

Joy slowly opens the book. More dust raises into the air, making her cough again. Her eyes now focus on the front page.

"Incantations of the old moon"

The paper has turned brown and yellow and it feels like it could fall apart any second. The letters almost look like they've been written with pure gold. It seems to reflect the small amount of sunshine that found it's way through the small window above her.

Joy flips the page. On it's back her eyes focus on the big letters which seem to be a name or a title of a chapter.

"Spell of the enkindled flame"

The black ink reminds Joy of a starless, cold night.

"Is this supposed to be a book filled with spells or something?"

Joy chuckles to herself. The text that follows does look like it's a poem or a spell. But the young woman just shakes her head and closes the book.

She starts to put the books she took out back into the the box. Her grandma's books first. Just when she is about to pick up the old mysterious book, another wind blows through the attic. To her surprise, the book opens, the first page turns itself. Joy feels a shiver run down her spine. The wind was a little harder, but is it just a coincidence the book got opened again?

For a moment, Joy stares at the name of the poem or the spell or whatever it is. Then her eyes glide down the page. She notices how the second part seems to be in another language. Latin maybe? She notices the word "et" That is Latin. Or maybe Italian? The page on the right is filled with letters written in the same pitch black ink.

"This spell heightens the caster's labido, increasing physical desire and intensifying arousal."

A laugh escapes Joy's lips. Not just a book of spells, but a book filled with spells for sex? Maybe this is a joke made by her grandma or something. Magic doesn't exist. So spells are useless. Just empty words someone made up. That's probably not even Latin. Just random words strung together.

"Well, I could give it a try. It's not gonna kill me, right?"

A sudden curiosity makes her heart beat a little faster. Surely this isn't real. But she can hear a small part of her brain acknowledging how weird it was that the wind opened the book again. What if it is magic? Maybe she could make her boyfriend do whatever she wants.

Joy chuckles at the thought. Yeah, sure. Why not give it a try?

She clears her throat and focuses back on the page on the left.

"By the ember’s glow and the night’s embrace,

Awaken the fire that passion does trace.

Let the pulse quicken, and the heat rise,

A flame of desire to light the skies."

Joy can feel how her excitement rises. Is that the spell, or just a normal reaction to something mysterious?

Unbeknownst to her, Joy's heartbeat has already picked up a little pace. Her body temperature rises as well. So slightly, it's barely noticeable.

"Per ignem sacrum et noctis umbras;

Crescat ardor, sensus foveat,

Flamma carnis, vires augeat."

That last part was hard to pronounce. And she definitely butchered every single one of those words. But Joy waits, still sitting on the floor in front of the box. She holds her breath. In her head, she counts to ten.

Nothing.

Then she reaches twenty.

Nothing.

Of course nothing happens. Because magic doesn't exist. It's just some useless book.

When she looks down on it again, Joy notices how it's not in her hand anymore. It's lying on the floor. Her eyes slowly wander to her hand. Her breath hitches when she realises she already unbuttoned her jeans.

"What-"

A sudden spike of lust pierces her body. Joy's eyes are wide open. She can literally feel how she is getting wet. Her body's temperature seems to rise and rise. A wave of pleasure builds up inside of her as her hand disappears inside her pants. The other is already pulling at her waistband to give herself more room. A drop of her saliva hits that second hand. She is drooling.

Joy bites her lip. The voice inside of her is almost screaming in panic. What is she supposed to do now? Surely not...

"Oh Lord!"

Joy almost cries out as her fingertips graze her clit. She's never been this sensitive. It almost feels like her own consciousness is being pushed to the back of her mind. A fog of lust takes over her brain.

Before Joy can even look down on herself again, she has already started rubbing herself furiously. Wave after wave of pleasure hits her body like it's a lonely rock in a deep sea. They keep coming, some washing over her, others almost knocking her down. Her breathing is now as fast as if she just ran down three flights of stairs.

"Oh god.... Please make it stop."

She manages to moan out, that last piece of her conscious mind fighting back. But the pleasure only intensifies. Joy can feel how her body is readying itself to climax already. How her abs tighten, how she bucks her hips towards her hand.

Never before did she get so aroused by just rubbing her clit. When she needs to take care of herself, she usually needs three fingers inside of her to make herself orgasm. But now, her body seems to be in overdrive. Every fiber of her entire being is urging her on to cum, working towards her climax.

Joy can already feel how her fingers, which are pulling back the waistband of her jeans, are already starting to hurt. She can't keep this up either way. It's only a matter of seconds now.

The sunlight shines through the small window and onto the woman sitting on the wooden floor. Her moans are filling the small room. Her legs shake when another wave threatens to brake her. Joy's wide open eyes close as she braces herself.

"Ahhhhh!"

Her squeal - light, sharp and rising in pitch - echoes her joy like a playful, excited note. That final wave has completely washed over her, almost drowning her in her own pleasure.

"Oh my god. Oh my god."

Half whisper, half moan. Joy feels how she is ruining her panties. Her juices darken the light fabric, making it heavier. It takes a moment, until her body seems to have completely calmed down. Except for her still quickly paced breathing.

Joy stands in her grandparent's guest room, looking at the book in her hands. Why did she take it with her again? She has the urge to open it again and read the rest of the book. Maybe there are more spells. Maybe there better spells. But she is able to control herself. She tugs it underneath the pillow of her bed.

"Maybe later."

She whispers to herself, before taking off her jeans. It seems like they are still dry, so she only has to change her underwear. Joy grimaces as she pulls her soaked panties off her body. It feels weird. This never happened to her before.

Looking down on herself, Joy feels a slight tingle in her nether regions. Just the mere sight of her own pussy is starting to turn her on again. She decides to focus on her panties. She holds them up, examining them. As her fist closes tightly around them, drops start to fall to the floor.

"Damn, what is wrong with me?"

Joy sighs. Her mind is still having trouble accepting that magic exists. She is still trying to come up with some simple explanation. Maybe she got this horny, because of her recent busy schedule and lack of pleasure? But would that make her this horny?

"Sooyoung! Come down for lunch!"

"In a minute!"

Her grandma's voice reminds her that she is still standing half naked in her room.

Joy joins her grandparents on the couch after lunch. They always watch a program which hosts idols around this time of day, because they don't want to miss the day, when Joy makes her appearance.

But the woman in question is having a hard time keeping it together. There wasn't any particular trigger during lunch, which would explain her aroused state. But her arousal has kept rising, since she.... Well, since she came.

Joy sighs and puts her hands between her ass and the couch, sitting on them. She's afraid another sudden spike of pure lust will catch her off guard. She doesn't even dare to think about what her grandparents would think of her, if she suddenly started to play with herself in front of them.

As the show continues and this week's cast gets introduced, Joy recognizes a familiar face. Her boyfriend. So that's why he couldn't come with her. Someone else probably canceled last minute and he had to fill in. But that still doesn't excuse his lack of explanation, or an apology for canceling on her.

"I remember when two of us were this young."

Her grandma sighs nostalgically, taking her husband's hand.

"You always looked so handsome."

"Me?"

Joy's grandfather laughs.

"Every boy in our town ran after you."

For some reason, those words struck a nerve for Joy. She focuses on the people on TV. Her boyfriend and three male hosts.

"Everyone wants you."

Was that Joy's own voice in her head? It sounded different. As if it's trying manipulate her thoughts.

"You can have them all."

Joy bites her lip. Her arousal reaches another plateau. She can feel how she is getting wetter again. She unconsciously starts to rub her thighs together. Just the idea of sleeping with more than one man suddenly fills her head with lust. Taking not just one cock, but two or three... That suddenly sounds like heaven for Joy. All of the attention on her. She is an object of desire for several guys, almost begging her to let them use her.

As her lust takes over more and more of her body, the initial ideas turn into vivid pictures inside her head. She can almost see how she is kneeling in front of a group of guys, mouth wide open, tongue sticking out, waiting for them all to fuck her face.

As if her body is on autopilot, Joy jumps off the couch.

"Are you alright, dear?"

"Just a minute."

Her voice sounds hoarse, even to her own ears. But she quickly heads for the guest room, almost tripping as she takes two steps at once.

As soon as the door closes behind her, Joy strips. Her top quickly falls onto her bed. Her bra follows. Her jeans hit the ground next to her and she kicks her panties into one of the corners of the room.

Barely ten second after she got inside, Joy is kneeling in the middle of the room. She closes her eyes and lets her hands wander all over her body. She starts with her breasts, squeezing and fondling them as if two men were exploring her naked body. Her hands soon glide lower, following the tightness of her midriff. She caresses her own thighs as she imagines herself surrounded by five men. In her mind, Joy eagerly watches them strip, licking her lips when she sees their hard cocks.

The small voice in her mind, telling her this is weird and unnatural has almost been completed drowned out by now. The intensity of her dirty thoughts almost make her feel like it's actually happening.

Joy reaches out with one hand and wraps it around one of the dicks pointing at her. She can almost feel how hard the man is as she begins to stroke his cock. Another man steps forward and Joy gladly opens her mouth. She doesn't even have to put her fingers into her mouth pretending it's a cock. Her vivid imagination is already enough. She can feel how his cock is sliding in and out of her mouth. How his tip grazes the back of her mouth with every thrust.

When another man steps forward, Joy starts to jerk him off as well. Both her hands use the same rhythm and pace, while her excitement grows and grows. She was never a huge fan of someone cuming on her. Even with her boyfriend, Joy prefers for him to cum inside her, when they used protection. But now? Now, Joy can't wait for the five guys to use her face as a canvas. She would ask them, beg them, to paint her face, if it wasn't for the cock inside her mouth.

Joy greedily keeps sucking the man in front of her, while she jerks off the two on her sides. She almost forgot the other two men. They now play with her tits, like she did before. Joy lets out a moan around the cock in her mouth as she feels them pinching her nipples and squeezing her breasts.

If she could see herself like that, Joy would definitely die of shame. Kneeling on the floor in an empty room. Completely naked. Her mouth wide open, her hands on either side over head head, doing corkscrew motions. As her pussy gets wetter and wetter, even without any stimulation, drops of her juices slowly drip onto the carpet.

Inside her head, Joy already has the five guys on the edge of their orgasms. How she got there is a mystery even to herself. But here she is now. Her pussy almost radiating pure lust as she lowers her hands. One reaches for her chest once more, while the other finally drops down to her core.

Joy can feel how close she is. Once more the flat of her hand begins to rub her clit. Within a matter of secondd, her hand is already coated in her slick.

"Yes, cum all over my face."

Joy sighs, before opening her mouth as wide as possible and sticking her tongue out. All five guys are surrounding her, stroking themselves. The first man's load hits her nose, while the rest lands on her tongue. The other two, standing on either side of her, cum all over her cheeks and eyes. Joy's eyelids feel heavy now. Even if she wanted to, it feels like she couldn't open her eyes. The two guys behind her cum as well. All across her face.

Joy feels their warm cum on her skin. She never felt this good. She knows she is mere seconds away herself. Just one last thing to degrade herself even further....

The guy in front of her pushes his cock past her lips.

"Clean it, little whore."

"Fuck!"

Joy orgasms hard as she licks the man's left over cum off his cock.

Her eyes stay closed throughout the entirety of her orgasm. It feels like it takes her a whole hour to work through it. Wave after wave makes her body shake and tremble. Because she was pretending she had someone's dick in her mouth, Joy started drooling all over herself at some point. Her tits are covered in her own spit.

When Joy finally opens her eyes again, it takes some effort. As if the men's imaginary cum has glued her eyes shut. A feeling of disgust and horror washes over Joy as she looks down on herself. Her hand wet with slick. Her tits covered in spit, the carpet underneath stained by a big puddle of her juices.

"What have I done?"

She whispers to herself. This isn't normal. And she feels like a whore and a slut after this. Dirty and used. Filthy. She needs to take a shower. Now. But what if she gets turned on again? Joy shakes her head. She came twice today. Both times harder than all of last month's orgasms combined. Spell or no spell. Her body is drained.

The feeling of failure and shame colours Joy's cheeks red. She slides down along the tiles of the wall of the shower. Her body is completely wet due to the water, but her lower half is now partially covered in slick again. As her breathing calms down, Joy finally makes a decision.

She needs to get rid of that book. She doesn't know how long this spell is gonna last. And she doesn't even want to know what the others do. And she definitely does not want to be tempted to try it again, when she is feeling really low or stressed out. A shudder rushes through her body as she imagines herself breaking down on stage and just mindlessly rubbing her pussy in front of thousands of people.

Suddenly her eyes are wide open.

"No, stop it! Not again!"

Joy quickly tries to think of something else. Maybe something disgusting.

"A camel, fish, vomit..."

She grimaces, but it seems to work. Thinking about random things not related to anything sexual. Maybe this is the way to control the effects of the spell?

It seems like the spell finally wore off. Nothing happened for the rest of the day. Actually, Joy almost forgot that the book is still there, until she lied down on her bed, ready to fall asleep. She can clearly feel it underneath her pillow.

"No, I won't look at it."

She closes her eyes.

But what if it influences her in a another way, when she sleeps with it under her pillow? Her eyes open again and Joy takes out the book. She is just about to put in on the nightstand, when curiosity invades her thoughts once more. What if she just checks out the next spell? She doesn't have to use it. Just look what it does.

"Okay."

Joy sighs in defeat and sits up, leaning up against the wall behind her.

"But only looking. I promise, I won't use it."

She flips through the first pages, passing the first spell that already brought her to her limits. Joy catches a small warning on the bottom left corner.

"Do not use this spell twice a day. Severe loss of self control and random orgasms without stimulation are side affects."

Joy shakes her head in disbelief. Who would try to use a spell like that twice a day? Even now she is consciously pushing back the undying urge to pleasure herself one last time.

When she reaches the next spell in the book, Joy focuses on the right page once more, reading all the instructions.

"The incantation of velvet dreams"

"Casts a spell over sleep, giving the caster or target vivid, sensual dreams that amplify desire upon waking."

"Interesting."

Joy murmurs to herself. Maybe she'd be able to sleep better. She always gets so little sleep because of her schedule. Maybe this will enhance the quality of the little sleep she does have.

She keeps reading, when she realizes that there are more requirements to cast the spell.

"A silver thread:

A thin thread of silver should be tied loosely around the wrist as a symbol of connection to the dream realm.

Silent preparation:

The caster must spend five minutes in complete silence, meditating on their intent, before the spell can take effect. The impact is improved if the caster is dressed in the same way as he or she invisons him or her self during mediation.

Honey:

Place three drops of honey on the tongue before sleep to invoke sweetness in the dream realm."

Joy ponders for a moment. All those things are quite easy to get or do. She glances at the left page with the spell. Should she try it out?

No, she promised herself she wouldn't. Joy knows it's a bad idea and yet she is already thinking about what she'd love to dream tonight. She hesitates.

"Are there any side effects?"

She mumbles to herself, going through the right page again. Nothing. Maybe this spell is safer to use then the first one. After all, she is sleeping anyway.

"Might as well..."

Joy gets out of bed, ready to gather the necessary materials. Silver thread and honey. One in her grandma's sewing box, the other in the kitchen.

Once she is back with both of them, she puts the glass of honey and a spoon onto the nightstand and places the thread next to it.

"Outfit..."

Joy opens the wardrobe, looking through the clothes she took with her. A dress? A short top and skirt? She can feel herself getting turned on again, just thinking about what she could be able to dream off. That's when she remembers her luggage.

Since she thought her boyfriend would come with her, Joy packed something a little extra. Her grandparents go to sleep early and her and her boyfriend's sex life isn't as good as she'd like it to be. Maybe the fresh country air would've helped her out. But now, this has to suffice.

Joy smiles as she takes out the lingerie that was lying on the bottom of her luggage. It's basically a see through red body suit. She quickly puts it on and closes the attached red collar around her neck. With a click, the button is secure. Joy looks down on herself. She can basically see her whole body underneath the thin red fabric, especially her nipples, which look a little darker now. Its neckline doesn't do its name justice at all. The cut down her body ends right underneath her breasts.

"Now the thread..."

Joy can feel the excitement in her body rising as she puts the silver thread around her wrist. Unbeknownst to her, it isn't only her excitement that makes her use the next spell. The first one has already raised her basic sexual appetite. If she keeps this up at this pace, she soon won't be able to climax anymore, without a spell in the book. Too bad the most important instructions and warnings are all listed on the very last page.

The warm rays of the sun hit Joy's face in the morning. She sleeps with a smile playing around her lips. The birds in the garden start to sing, which slowly makes her open her eyes.

"That was good."

She sighs dreamily. She can't remember every detail of her dream, but the most important parts are stuck in her head. Pulling the sheets aside, Joy looks down on herself. She's still wearing that red body suit. And the part that covers her pussy is visibly wet.

But the good thing is, Joy doesn't feel this undying urge to satisfy herself like yesterday. Maybe it has finally worn off. The spell for the dream seems to be the perfect solution. At least for now. She is perfectly relaxed. This is like the best start for a day.

When Joy is finally done with unpacking, she quickly eats dinner, before going to bed. She just got back home to her apartment. On the way, she bought silver threat and a new glass of honey. She is gonna need it.

Now, Joy sits on her bed, eyes closed as she thinks about what she wants to dream tonight. She is wearing the same red bodysuit as last night. The tight fabric stretches over every curve of her body. Only while putting it on a couple of minutes ago, Joy realized how good her butt looked in it. Now her thoughts seem to be related to that. She imagines herself having anal sex for the first time. Someone eating out her ass and then using lube to make it easier for him. It's no one specific, but Joy feels save and cared for as the man lies on his side behind her and starts to push his cock inside her ass.

A huge smile plays around her lips when she opens her eyes again. Joy reaches for the book in front of her and starts to read the spell out loud.

"By the silk of night and the moon’s soft light,

Weave the dreams that dance in the night.

Let the body stir and the senses ignite,

A journey of pleasure through the shadowed flight."

Just like the night before, she feels her eyelids getting heavier. A soothing, warm feeling starts to spread through her body. Not the primal, undying urge to get fucked. But a feeling of completion and easiness.

"Per noctem et lumen lunare;

Somnia sensuales, gaudium efflorescat."

Joy places the book on the nightstand and reaches for the honey. Three drops onto her tongue. She closes her eyes, her head resting on her soft pillow. The honey on her tongue sweetens the process of falling asleep.

As soon as her eyes close, Joy starts to dream. She is inside her own apartment. Wearing that red bodysuit. Why was she dressed like this again? Right, her boyfriend. It's his birthday.

During her five minutes of silence, Joy failed to think of a build up. Her fantasy started out with a man kissing her as he lies her on her bed. Now her subconsciousness is stringing random thoughts together.

She is waiting for her boyfriend, wanting to make his night special. But when the bell rings it's not him, but the delivery guy. Luckily, Joy put on a robe before opening the door. The man looks her up and down, being able to tell how little she must be wearing. Her robe is barely reaching her thighs, her legs and feet completely naked.

"That'd make 20 000 ₩"

Joy reaches for her card and the man takes out the device to scan it with.

"Card declined"

Horror slowly creeps onto Joy's face, when she realizes she won't be able to pay. She doesn't have any cash lying around. She can already sense the man's inappropriate glances.

"I'm sorry. It seems like I can't pay right now."

"I'm sure we can find away."

His smile makes her shudder. But in a good way for some reason. She feels like he would know how to make her feel good. If she just invited another man inside. Just once.....

Joy stirs awake the next morning. Like the night before, she can't remember the whole dream. But this one was definitely better than the first. As she is slowly getting rid of her sleepiness, Joy starts to feel odd. She reaches out to flip the sheets off her and her hand touches wet fabric. Worry creeps up her spine.

"Don't tell me..."

She lifts the covers.

"Oh god...."

Almost the entire bed is wet. Soaked. Drenched with her juices. That explains why her dream was so good. She lifts one of her legs, the sheets stick to it for a while, before they fall back down. The red fabric on her body is glued to her skin. She must've rolled around in her own slick the whole night.

A small price to pay, considering how good the dream was. She can just take a shower.

"And change the sheets...."

Joy sighs, but she doesn't have a choice. As she gets off the bed, she is already thinking about a way to sleep, without drowning herself in her own juices.

"Let's try this again."

Joy stands up and takes her place behind Yeri. She raises her arms as the music starts and the five of them start to practice the dance once again.

Two weeks have gone by since Joy found the book. Her and her boyfriend did talk about her weekend at her grandparent's, but she didn't mention what she found. She could share it with no one, since no one would believe her.

But for two weeks, Joy has been working on her own pleasure by herself. Her and her boyfriend's schedules didn't allow them to see each other often, let alone have sex with each other. So when she did have time, Joy used the spell for her dreams to at least feel good when she woke up in the morning.

But she is starting to feel a rising need for more. She needs to orgasm while she is awake. She needs something to get herself off. She has been going through the book and found a couple of more spells. And when her eyes fall on Seulgi, she is determined to use one of them today.

Joy thought about this for quite a while. Nothing seems to really do it anymore for her. Playing with herself is nice and all and she does climax while doing so, but she is starting to miss something. She is starting to miss someone else's touch.

She has had these dreams about other guys. She does admit that. But she'd never cheat on her boyfriend. How horny or aroused she might be, she'd never do something like that. That's what she told herself.

Now, Joy is thinking about a loophole in some way. Sex with other men is definitely cheating. But what if it's with another woman? There is no dick involved. So technically, she wouldn't have penetrative sex, right? So it would be okay for her and Seulgi to pleasure each other? Just this once?

Joy doesn't even realize how ridiculous that sounds. But the book's influence on her is slowly growing stronger. Her desire for pleasure keeps rising. She doesn't know it, but her body realizes that the book might be able to give her eternal pleasure. Pleasure that is out of this world. And that doesn't mean these simple spells. There must be something else. Something that frees her from earthly boundaries and rules.

And Joy is starting to become so desperate, she's willing to cast a spell on one of her members.

"One last time. We will go home afterwards."

Joy looks at Irene while she speaks

She thought about whom she should choose. Irene was the first who didn't qualify. Or rather, Joy was afraid of what could happen. Irene can be strict. She thought of Yeri and Wendy as well, but the two of them don't seem to be weak minded. And the instructions said, it would be easier on someone who is easier. But that doesn't mean Joy sees Seulgi as dumb or a slut. She is just loving and caring. A person who often can't say no.

And that's why Seulgi finds herself inside Joy's apartment exactly one hour later. The younger woman asked her to come over and hang out. Seulgi didn't have any plans, so she agreed.

But now she feels like something is going on. Joy is acting different. She noticed that during practice already. Her mind seemed to be somewhere else. And she looks like she has that after sex glow. But all the time. And she surely can't be having sex all day.

Pretending to prepare snacks for the two of them, Joy is standing inside her kitchen. She glances at Seulgi, watching her drink the juice she gave her. The younger one told her it's supposed to help for losing weight. But in reality, it was just random juice she had in her fridge. The special ingredient was a strand of Joy's hair. Seulgi had to drink it in order to form the necessary bond between the two of them.

After confirming that Seulgi isn't paying attention to her, Joy starts to read from the book, which is lying on the counter.

"Serpent of secrets, lend me your grace,

Let your kiss awaken, and pleasure embrace.

By the moon’s soft glow and the stars that gleam,

Uncoil the longing that sleeps in the dream."

As she reaches the Latin part of the spell, Joy raises her hand. Now she has to draw a snake in the air. And she does so as she reads the last lines.

"Per lunam et stellas lucentes;

Sensibus favorem, desiderium augeat."

The snake she drew seems to be made of a small cloud. It starts to move towards Seulgi. Joy watches, hoping she did everything right. Doubt is starting to rise inside her as the snake opens her mouth. It's now right behind Seulgi. Joy bites her lip. As soon as the snake touches Seulgi, it disappears. Gone.

Did it work?

Joy hesitates, but then walks over to Seulgi, while holding a plate with grapes and watermelon.

"Thanks."

Seulgi smiles as she reaches for a handful of grapes. Joy sits down next to her.

It seems like the older woman isn't affected at all. She seems to behave normally. Maybe Joy did something wrong? She glances at Seulgi's glass, which is only half empty. Or did she not drink her hair yet?

Joy sighs and sinks back against the backrest of her couch. She should've never even tried this. Seulgi is one of her best friends. The two of them lived together for a long time. How could she just decide to use her, so she can satisfy her own pleasure? The younger woman feels ashamed of herself. The book was fun and all. But now it slowly seems to take over her actions. It has to go. Rather sooner than later.

Joy stands up, determined to get rid of the book immediately. When she walks past Seulgi, a hand suddenly grabs her wrist. She looks down on her friend.

"Unnie..."

Her words get caught in her throat as Joy sees the lust glisten in Seulgi's eyes.

Before she can react, Seulgi has already pulled her onto the couch again. Her lips crash against the younger one's, making her fall onto her back. The moment their lips touch, Joy's lust skyrockets. She loves how Seulgi's lips feel on hers. How her tongue brushes against her own. How her hands hold onto her waist. She needs to have her. Now.

Seulgi is in a state of pure lust, confusion and horror. What the hell is she doing? Why is she kissing her friend? And why can't she stop? Why does it feel so good? Why does it make her pussy wet? Why-

Her own consciousness slowly retreats as arousal takes its place. Seulgi knows it's wrong. She has never thought about Joy this way. She would've never dared to kiss her without consent, even if she wanted to. But her lust driven body seems to have a mind on its own now.

The two women loose themselves far too quickly. While their kiss continues, Seulgi undoes the two buttons on Joy's top, while Joy reaches for the zipper of Seulgi's skirt. The younger one lets out a moan as she feels her friend's leg between her own. It slightly presses itself against her core, stimulating Joy's already sensitive clit.

No words are being spoken as Seulgi pushes Joy's top off her tits, while Joy lets Seulgi's opened skirt glide down the older girl's legs. Their kiss finally breaks, when Seulgi leans down to kiss the younger girl's neck.

"Unnie..."

She sighs and places her hands on the other girls butt cheeks. She starts to knead them as Seulgi's lips travel lower. Soon, they latch onto Joy's right nipple. She arches her back off the couch in response, her body yearning for the other girl's touch. At the same time, her hands have now pulled Seulgi's cheeks apart and two fingers dive towards her core.

The sound that escapes Seulgi's lips is half squeal, half moan. Joy's fingers penetrate her lower lips. Her thumb automatically rests on her asshole due to their position. Only a little bit of pressure makes Seulgi suck harder on Joy's nipples.

The two of them lose track of time as they pleasure each other. After a while, they find themselves in Joy's bed with Joy on the bottom and Seulgi on top, eating each other out.

The younger girl has really gotten a good taste of Seulgi's pussy by now. She can't tell if it's just the spell, but she really seems to enjoy it. If she could, she would feast on Seulgi's pussy the entire night, making her a squealing mess. But Seulgi's tongue works her own pussy too, making Joy almost fall apart every three seconds. Both their bodies are way more sensitive than they usually are. Side effects of the spell.

"Unnie..."

Joy moans, when she feels Seulgi slip two fingers inside her cunt. The older woman's tongue flicks against her clit and the woman on the bottom starts to loose it. Her thighs tremble as Seulgi does her best to push Joy towards her third orgasm of the night. The younger girl is unable to return the favour, moaning out loud and shaking underneath her friend.

"Please, mommy....."

If she wasn't about to climax, Joy would've felt immense shame in that moment. What did she just call Seulgi?

But she can't think about that now. Seulgi adds a third finger, properly stretching out Joy's pussy. Her tongue keeps flicking against her clit, making Joy's hips rise off the bed.

"Mommy!"

Joy crashes down. The shame and pleasure mix together as her orgasm rolls through her. Her body is a mess. Hair glistening with sweat and their combined juices. Her pussy is leaking and her whole body is glazed with a thin layer of sweat.

"I'm sorry, unnie. I-"

Seulgi gets off of her and turns around. She kisses Joy's lips to shut her up.

"Say it again."

"What?"

Joy is confused. It was an embarrassing slip up and she thought Seulgi would be mad or disgusted. But as she watches her climbing on top of Joy, the opposite seems to be the case.

"Tell me what a good girl you are."

The younger woman is shocked by Seulgi's sudden dominant attitude. But she starts to moan when Seulgi begins to ride her. Their two pussies meet whenever Seulgi sinks down. One hand is placed flat on Joy's midriff, while the other applies pressure to both of their clits.

"I don't-"

Joy's reply is cut short by Seulgi pinching Joy's clit. A spike of pain and pleasure rushes through her system.

"Mommy....."

Joy hisses as Seulgi continues to ride her.

"I-I've been a good girl for mommy. Right?"

Seulgi's head rolls back, her mouth open as a moan escapes her lips. Joy instinctively holds onto Seulgi's waist. So this how it feels like when someone rides you? It's the first time Joy experiences this, but she can understand why her boyfriend likes it, whenever she does it. But her thoughts quickly focus back on Seulgi as she quickens her pace.

Although, it's actually more grinding than riding. The friction of their pussies rubbing together makes the two women moan in union. Joy's hands wander towards Seulgi's ass and she squeezes her cheeks, appreciating how firm they are.

"Yes, grope my ass. Bad girl."

Seulgi moans and she reaches for Joy's tits in return. The two of them grind against each other, while their hands play with the other's body. Joy's eyes are glued to Seulgi's abs, which look so damn amazing when they are slightly glistening with sweat.

The younger girl sits up, needing to have a taste. Seulgi lets out an appreciative sigh, when she feels Joy's tongue on her midriff. She feels the saltiness of Seulgi's sweat on her tongue as Joy traces along the lines of the older girl's abs.

"Now you're being a good girl."

Seulgi strokes her hair. She keeps riding Joy, constantly increasing the pleasure they both feel. Soon, their bodies become one. Neither of them can tell where her body ends and the other one's begins.

"Mommy...."

Joy moans again as she feels the pressure and friction at her core becoming too much to handle.

"Yes, baby. Me too...."

The two of them lock eyes. Their dark orbs are glistening with lust. Seulgi tilts her head and captures Joy's lips one last time.

As their bodies shake in union, both girls moan into each other's mouths. Joy can barely feel the pain of Seulgi biting her lip. They fall onto the bed, their bodies working through their orgasms individually.

Shame and embarrassment run through her veins as Joy just lies in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Seulgi is lying next to her. The two of them are still catching their breaths, but they're back to their old selves.

"I'm sorry."

Joy's voice sounds broken.

"This is all my fault."

Seulgi would've shook her head, if she wasn't too tired.

"Why would this be your fault? I started it. I should take responsibility."

"You don't understand."

Joy hesitates. Is she really going to reveal her secret?

"I.... There-There is this book. I-I used it on you."

"What book?"

"A book full with spells. About.... About sex."

She closes her eyes, afraid Seulgi will laugh at her. But the older woman stays silent for a while.

"Magic doesn't exist, Joy."

The younger girl can hear the worry in her voice.

"It does. Why do you think all of this just happened? I-I used a spell."

"A spell? So that I become...."

Seulgi feels her cheeks heating up.

"So that I become turned on?"

"Kinda."

Joy doesn't want explain it further.

"And-And this book. Is it dangerous?"

"I don't think so. As long as you're able to control yourself, it's actually pretty good."

Joy hears how Seulgi turns her head to look at her. She tears her eyes off the ceiling and looks into her friend's eyes.

"Can-Can I see it?"

After taking a proper shower, without another incident, the two women sit side by side on Joy's bed, flipping through the book.

"And you tried all of them?"

Joy shakes her head no.

"A couple."

Joy turns the next page.

"The rapture of flowing rivers"

"I tried that one."

"What happened?"

Seulgi looks at her with genuine curiosity. Joy hesitates, although the two of them just made each other cum and have talked about sex since then.

"You... You squirt a lot."

"Really? I think I've never done that before. What does it feel like?"

"Well,..."

Joy remembers the day she tried out that spell.

"It feels like you need to pee while you climax. It makes your orgasm feel way better. Instead of holding it in, you just have to let it go. Or in this case"

She nods towards the spell.

"You don't have a choice."

"How much did you squirt?"

"I'm not sure. But you probably could've filled a whole bottle after one time."

"Wow."

Seulgi's eyes are wide open in awe as she keeps looking through the book. Eventually she reaches the last spell.

"Spell of summoning: The Incubus rite"

"Have you tried this one?"

"No I haven't. I can't do it alone."

"Why not?"

"Like I showed you earlier, some spells require specific objects or actions. Part of this one is having three different attributes, if you can call them that. You need to have a romantic partner, you need to have had sex within the last couple of days and at the same time you shouldn't have had a lot of sex yet. I feel like the instructions are trying to tell the caster that three people need to perform this spell."

"And what is it good for? Isn't the Incubus something like a Succubus?"

"Yes. The male version. It says this Incubus will fulfill your every desire, once you summon him. The instructions say he has no limits."

"That sounds amazing. Do you have anything that you'd wish for? I'd think most of the other spells got you covered already."

"You think he is like a... Sex genie?"

"If it says, he has no limits, yeah? What else would he do?"

"It doesn't say anything about wishes here."

"Do you have anything specific in mind?"

Joy thinks about Seulgi's question.

"I don't know.... I guess... I guess me and my boyfriend could maybe..... I don't know... Improve something."

Joy feels awkward as she is admitting that her sex life isn't going as well as she'd like.

"I get it. Guys can be disappointing sometimes."

The two of them chuckle.

"What about you?"

Seulgi shrugs her shoulders.

"I've always wanted.... I don't know... A bigger chest? I love to touch them when I'm alone. But guys don't seem to be very interested."

"What are you talking about? You have... A nice chest."

"Well,"

Seulgi blushes a little more.

"I just wish it would be a little bigger. But I definitely don't want a doctor to do something, you know? That feels unnatural."

"And this doesn't?"

Joy raises an eyebrow and points at the book.

The two women laugh at the situation. Neither of them would've ever imagined having this conversation with each other.

"Stop playing with me."

Yeri rolls her eyes at Joy.

"A sex book? Please."

The youngest looks around the practice room.

"Is that some sort of prank? Where is the camera?"

"This isn't a prank, Yeri. Do you think I'd say something like that in front of a camera?"

Yeri sighs. She knows Joy wouldn't. But it still sounds like a joke to her.

"Who would even come up with that? Are you telling me wizards and witches are real?"

"I don't know. I just know it works."

Yeri hesitates. She can tell by looking at Joy's eyes that she does seem genuine. But she just can't understand the words that are coming out of her mouth.

"And the two of you really...."

She looks at Seulgi, who immediately blushes.

"Yes, we did."

Joy takes Yeri's hand.

"At least try it. What's the worst thing that could happen?"

"I still don't believe you. You want me to be there so you can summon some sex demon? Do you even hear yourself?"

"I-"

"Hi guys!"

Wendy greets the three girls as she steps into the practice room, Irene close behind. The girls all look at her with wide open eyes as if she just caught them doing something weird.

"We should get started. Our schedules are all full."

Irene takes the lead and the five of them soon start practice.

Joy feels a burning need inside of her as she continues to dance. She wasn't sure about telling Yeri all of this. But she knows the younger girl doesn't have a lot of experience yet. And now that she did it, her urge to finally do this last spell keeps on eating at her. Her whole body is asking for it. If this could really enhance her sex life with her boyfriend...

Seulgi keeps glancing at Yeri from time to time. Even for her it still feels odd to believe that all of this is true. But it makes sense. What happened that night at Joy's was not within her control. She could feel how something else influenced her actions. How her body was suddenly burning with lust for her friend. How good it felt when they made each other cum...

Yeri feels how the two older women look at her from time to time. She still doesn't believe them. But she can't help but daydream. A book with spells about sex? So far her sexual experiences have been rather disappointing. Not like there were a lot of them anyway. Maybe the book could help her out? Yeri almost has to laugh. Yeah sure. It's gonna make her a guy who knows what to do with her body. Who knows how to make her feel good. Who can be gentle. But also rough if she needs it....

After practice, Yeri has almost forgotten about Joy's and Seulgi's ridiculous idea. The two of them didn't talk about it again. After she got home, Yeri took a shower and put some new clothes on. She was just about to throw her outfit from practice earlier into the washing machine, when a note falls out of her pocket.

Yeri picks it up and reads what is written on it.

"You just need to read it out loud. Have fun."

The text underneath looks like a poem. The ending part seems to be written in Latin.

"Oh please. Very funny Joy."

She noticed it's the older girl's handwriting.

Yeri throws the note into the garbage and gets comfortable on the couch. She ordered something to eat earlier and is now preparing herself for a nice and relaxed night. Herself, food and Netflix. What else would she need to make this day any better?

She already put on something comfortable. Pink, fluffy jeans and a matching short crop top.

Just when she finished putting a blanket on the couch and rearranged the cushions, the doorbell rings.

Yeri's stomach is already calling out for the food as she walks towards the door.

"Thank you. How much is it?"

She smiles at the girl who hands her the tteokbokki.

She pays with her phone and closes the door behind her. After getting a pair of chopsticks and a chocolate bar out of the kitchen, Yeri gets comfortable on the couch. She turns on her TV. She's about to to open the container where the tteokbokki is in, when she sees a note on top of it. The note!

"What the fuck?"

Yeri quickly jumps to her feet and runs over to check the garbage. It's not in there. How the hell did the note move by itself? That's impossible.

She shakes her head and throws it back into the trash. Maybe she didn't throw it away earlier. But now she definitely did.

When Yeri sits back down on the couch, her eyes widen in horror. There is the note. On top of the container.

"What?"

Yeri doesn't know what to do. Is she drunk or drugged or something? Slowly realization hits her. Or is this magic? Did Joy really speak the truth? Is this possible?

With shaking fingers, Yeri picks up the note again. Maybe she should use the spell? If it's real, it might make her night even better. But what if- Joy said it isn't harmful.

Yeri hesitates for a little while, but eventually decides to go for it. Nothing is going to happen anyways.

"Here I go. The enchantment of lingering bliss. Very creative."

Yeri clears her throat and then starts to read.

"By the silken thread of desire’s dance,

I call forth pleasure with each glance.

Let every touch ignite a fire,

But leave the heart in sweet desire."

She pauses for second. Not exactly sure why. Yeri tries to feel something. But it seems like everything is the same.

"Per tactum lenem et ardorem quietum;

Gaudium augeatur, sed solutio vetetur."

Still nothing. At least that's what she thinks. The spell is already affecting her. A specific part of her body has just been disconnected from another one, until the spell wears off. Something deep inside of her.

"With breath held tight and senses keen,

Let longing rise, pure and unseen.

May bliss increase with every trace,

Yet never reach its final place."

Yeri holds her breath. But she still doesn't catch anything odd.

"I knew it."

She mumbles and throws the note onto the coffee table. As she takes the lid off the container, her fingertips suddenly tingle.

"What-"

Before she can even react, Yeri has already unbuttoned her jeans. One hand is diving inside, while the other slips underneath her top. Just moments later, she is already rubbing her clit and pinching her nipples at the same time.

"Oh, gosh."

Yeri's head rolls back. Pleasure overwhelming her, while she is still trying to figure out what happens.

"Oh, please. Just once."

Yeri almost starts crying as she looks at herself through the mirror. She is basically kneeling on the floor in her bedroom, right in front of her mirror. The dildo she owns is deep inside of her as she keeps impaling herself on it. She decided to keep her top on, while her jeans are gone. For some reason it makes her look much hotter. How her tits look so much better than usual. And how it shows off her tight midriff.

"I'm begging you..."

Yeri isn't talking to anyone in particular. Maybe her own body.

"Just this once."

A lonely tear rolls down her cheek.

For the past six hours, Yeri has been trapped at the very edge of the most intense orgasm of her life. Whatever she does, she can't take the next step and finally fall into the sea of pleasure she is longing for so much. Nothing seems to help. She tried so much already. Even put on some porn, while she was masturbating, but even that didn't help. Watching herself riding a cock was her last, desperate attempt for release.

Yeri can feel how she is almost there. How her sensitive walls grip onto the plastic inside of her. How her clit seems to burn as she keeps rubbing it furiously. She leans back, her other hand supporting her, and tries to make her tits look even bigger. Maybe when she looks like a real slutty whore, she might be able to cum. She is ready to degrade herself even further, if she needs to. Whatever it is, she'd do it now.

"What have you done to me, unnie?"

Another tear rolls down her cheek and she watches herself on and on as she keeps riding the dildo.

"I thought you'd never come."

Joy greets Yeri as she enters the room.

The newcomer glares at her.

"Last night was the worst night of my life. "

"Oh, don't exaggerate. But you now admit that magic exists, right? Otherwise you wouldn't be here."

"Yes, just get it over with. I-I need it."

Her urgent glare tells Joy Yeri still can't orgasm. But it seems like her arousal and lust have died down.

"Okay, we're almost done with preparations."

Yeri looks around the room. The moonlight illuminates the walls, decorated with paintings of flowers and sceneries. Everything looks old. The reason for that is, that three of them are inside an old palace. Joy told her that the spell has to be executed at a specific place. But she didn't say, why she chose this palace. Or how she got a key.

Yeri sees Seulgi building a circle of flowers in the middle of the room. The book is lying at the center of it. Opened. She can see the part where it says all the participants need to be wearing similar, simple clothes. That's why the three of them are wearing their dress from their Chill Kill photoshoot.

"What do we need to do now?"

"Take this."

Joy hands her two red pieces of silk.

"The two of you need to put one of that into your hair. Like a bow. And the other needs to tie your wrists together."

"Why? And what about you?"

"I don't know why. The book says so. But I think it's to show the Incubus that we are not just asking him for something, but that we're also his servants. Kinda like give and take you know? We acknowledge that he is more powerful than us."

"Okay...."

Yeri is still not completely convinced. But the still burning desire to cum is getting stronger again.

"And I have to wear that red bow to, stand in the middle of the circle and cast the spell."

"Alright then. Unnie..."

Yeri calls for Seulgi and does as Joy told her. Seulgi stands outside the circle now, visibly nervous as Joy does the same to Yeri.

With a red bow in her hair as well, Joy steps into the circle of flowers and picks up the book.

"Alright."

She takes a deep breath.

"Here we go."

Both Yeri and Seulgi close their eyes. Not because they need to, but because their nervousness increases with every second.

"By the flames of desire and the shadows that entwine,

I invoke the ancient powers that dwell beyond time.

From the depths of the Abyss and the halls of dark pleasure,

I call upon the spirit of lust, the guardian of hidden treasure.

He who walks in dreams, he who feeds on longing -

I summon thee, Incubus, to this mortal plane!"

Joy's voice is the only sound in the room. Yeri digs a nail into the palm of her hand as she feels the temperature rising a little.

_"Venite, daemon libidinis, ex umbris aeternis;

Per sanguinem et carnem, te constringo, Sathariel.

Per ardorem infernum et lunam crescentem,

Maneas in vinculis mei voti, daemon carnis."

Seulgi raises her head. Now she is hearing more than just Joy's voice. It sounds like distant screams. Very far away. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea. What if Joy is literally summoning the devil right now? What if they all go to hell?

"By the blood of passion and the crescent moon's glow,

I bind thee to this circle, spirit from below.

Manifest thy form, and heed my call;

Cross the veil between worlds and let desire enthrall.

I summon thee now, Sathariel, demon of ecstasy and night,

Appear before me and fulfill the pact under this moonlight."

A strong wind sweeps through the open windows and cools down the room again. Everything is silent again. No one is speaking a word. Yeri and Seulgi both hold their breaths.

And Joy?

"In the name of the dark Lord."

You curse and growl as you feel yourself being trapped. A moment ago, you were still at home, sitting on your throne, overlooking your own personal part of hell. Dedicated to people who committed sexual crimes in their lives.

As you now open your eyes, you look down on yourself. You're trapped in human form. How long has it been since the last time? The concept of time is different in hell than on earth.

You examine your hands. Then you reach for your chest. You grope it twice. You've seen bigger, but they feel nice and firm.

Joy feels like someone has taken over her body. It's not the same as with the spells. Before, it always felt like the magic just influenced her actions and she at least had free will to some degree. But now, someone else has taken over her body. Someone dark. She can't do anything. Only see what he sees. Only feel what he feels.

You take in your surroundings. Your eyes, or rather your host's eyes, fall on the two women, who stand with their backs towards you. Just like the ritual says, they both wear red bows and have their wrists loosely tied together.

With a snap of your fingers, the red silk tightens. The women gasp in surprise. You step closer and take a deep breath. They both smell amazing.

"J-Joy?"

Is that your host's name?

"What is your name, woman?"

Yeri shakes as she hears Joy's voice. It is definitely hers. But it sounds a little deeper. More evil.

"S-Seulgi."

Seulgi doesn't dare open her eyes.

"Seulgi."

For some reason the older girl relaxes a little as her name rolls off Joy's tongue.

"Korea it is."

You lean over the other girl.

"And you?"

Yeri jumps as she feels you whispering into her ear.

"Yeri."

Her breathless whisper makes you take a step back.

"Don't be afraid, girls. I don't bite. If you don't want me to."

Seulgi and Yeri exchange a worried glance.

"The two of you need to relax more. It'll be easier for all of us."

"W-Why?"

You chuckle as you place a hand on Seulgi's shoulder.

"Because you summoned me. And while I wander this earth..."

You place a kiss on top of Seulgi's head.

"you belong to me."

"E-Excuse you?"

Yeri finally turns around. She looks at Joy's body. It is hard for her to picture you inside of her.

"Didn't you read the whole book? Once you summon me, there's only one way to make me go back."

"A-And that is?"

"I must feel satisfied."

"You mean as in..."

"Yes, Yeri."

You reach out and place a finger under her chin.

"You must serve me, until you've probably satisfied me. Then, I'll leave."

"And if we don't?"

Yeri watches how an evil grin plays around your lips.

"Let me show you."

You grab her shoulders and turn her around again. Taking both girl's necks into each of your hands, you push them onto their knees. They both gasp in surprise and struggle against your grip. But they don't stand a chance. Pushing forward, you bend them over. After you've flipped up their skirts, you place a hand on each of their butts.

"The two of you definitely have potential. And I bet the third one does as well."

Joy feels ashamed as she can feel herself caressing her member's butts. This is not at all what she had in mind. Why is this person in control of her body?

"I haven't tasted a woman in centuries. I'm almost dying of thirst."

You pull both their panties to the side. Choosing Yeri as the lucky winner, you lean down and place a kiss on one of her cheeks. You spread them apart with one of Joy's hands, exposing the younger girl's holes. At the same time, you place your fingers on Seulgi's folds.

The two girls moan at the exact same moment. Yeri feels your tongue glide along her lips, while Seulgi feels how you push two fingers inside of her.

"Delicious."

You lick your lips and then dive in properly.

The two girls try to resist at first, but it's in vain. They try to fight their rising desires to feel pleasure. Their bodies can naturally tell that you are the gateway to eternal satisfaction. Their minds are still trying to think properly. But you know, they won't last long.

After a long night of edging herself without being able to cum, Yeri is the first who begins to crack. Her abs give up and her face is now on the floor. You keep eating her out, basically devouring that sweet cunt. Your fingers are flicking against her clit in a steady rhythm.

At the same time, Seulgi feels your fingers move in and out of her pussy. When you curl them upwards, she starts to lose it as well.

"Yes. That's good."

She moans. Not as loud as Yeri, but loud enough for you to smirk.

Although the two girls seemed clueless and unwilling at the beginning, they now seem to fully embrace the roles of being your new playthings.

Soon, you have them right where you want them.

"Ask me for it."

"W-What?"

Seulgi is barely able to hold it together.

"Ask for my permission."

"P-Please make me cum."

Yeri is the first to beg.

"I haven't cum in so long. Please."

You stop eating her out and push two fingers inside of her as well.

"Oh, gosh!"

You finger the two of them at the same time, watching how their bodies react. Yeri's tight pussy clenches down on your fingers and Seulgi's legs start to shake.

"Good girls. The more you cum, the stronger I get."

Yeri breaks first. It's probably the hardest she's ever had. After a whole night and a whole day of denial, her body releases all of that built up pleasure. She whines and moans, almost drooling on the floor as her orgasm overwhelms her.

Seulgi is no different. She climaxes a second later.

Both your hands are coated in their juices as you feel a familiar fire burn inside of you. It's still weak, but you know it's only gonna grow stronger.

"You're doing great, girls."

You give both of them appreciative spanks. As you do so, you can feel how Joy's body reacts. You feel what she feels. Her pussy is wet by now. But you still have another surprise in store for her.

"Let's see how long it takes, until you loose the ability to think."

You insert your fingers into their waiting pussies once more. Curling them upwards, you hit their g-spots every single time. The two of them moan and whine in union. You place your thumbs on each of their clits and start to rub them.

"Oh god, yes!"

Yeri almost squeals as you send even more pleasure through her system. You feel how Seulgi starts to move back against your hand, whenever you push your fingers forward.

It doesn't take them as long to cum as the first time. But now, they both climax at the exact same moment. You caught Seulgi's rushed ask for permission, but Yeri's mouth only let out wordless moans.

"You should've asked for permission."

You give Yeri's ass a slap.

"S-Sorry."

"Master."

A harder slap.

"S-Sorry, master."

"You are the bratty one of you three, aren't you?"

"Y-Yes, master."

"Better teach you a lesson, before it turns into a bad habit."

You raise your hand for another slap, but the fire inside your rises higher than you expected. Joy's body starts to change as your powers grow.

"Perfect timing."

You snap your fingers and a chair, which was standing in the corner, moves towards you. Sitting down on it, you reach for Yeri and Seulgi. You place Seulgi on your right, head resting on your thigh. And you put Yeri over your left thigh.

As you do all of that, Joy feels how her body changes as well. Something is going on underneath her dress. Her panties suddenly feel smaller. And she isn't really wet anymore. Rather.... Hard.

Realization hits Joy like a truck. She can see how a bulge forms underneath her dress. She has a dick!

You can feel Joy's surprise and horror. It makes you chuckle.

"Come on, Seulgi. Be a good girl and get to work."

You pull Joy's dress up. Seulgi's eyes grow wide as she sees your cock underneath Joy's panties. She needs to use her teeth to pull the panties down. Her hands are still tied behind her back. Carefully, she gives it a kiss. Then another one. And finally, Seulgi opens her mouth and takes the tip inside.

Joy groans inside of you. This the first time she ever felt this kind of pleasure. And it doesn't feel bad at all. Her brain becomes even more messed up as Seulgi continues her blowjob.

But you focus on Yeri now. One spank follows the other. You hit both her cheeks equally often. Each slap makes Yeri gasp and whine. While you enjoy Seulgi's lips around your cock, you don't stop hitting Yeri. Soon, her cheeks start to turn red.

"P-Please, master. I'll be good from now on."

"I don't think you'll be able to do that, honey."

"No, please."

You keep spanking the poor girl as Seulgi keeps sucking you off. She manages to take almost all of you into her mouth, but that means your tip grazes the back of her mouth from time to time, making her gag when that happens.

"You better hurry up, Seulgi. Otherwise, Yeri won't be able to sit tomorrow."

You feel the older girl speeding up.

"Master, I'll be a good girl. I promise."

Another spank shuts her up.

At the same time, Joy feels an unfamiliar pull around her core. Is this how it feels when a guy cums? It's different from her usual orgasms.

You push Seulgi's head down a little further, making her take every single inch, until her lips kiss your base.

The incoming orgasm makes you move your hand from Yeri's ass to her pussy. Once more, you start to finger her. Her cheeks glow red and her pussy already contracts around your fingers.

"P-Please, c-can I cum?"

Seems like she learned her lesson. For now.

"Please, master. I took your spanking so well, didn't I?"

"Cum."

You growl and Yeri shakes and whines on top of your thigh.

At the same time, Seulgi finally manages to make you cum. Or rather manages to make Joy cum. Sperm fills her mouth, threatening to spill out as it doesn't seem to stop. Seulgi hesitates for a second, but then starts to gulp it down.

"Finally."

You groan, feeling how the last of your powers has been restored. You get pushed out of Joy's body. Your host almost falls off the chair as she feels you leave, her orgasm still overwhelming her.

Looking down on yourself, you're curious what the three of them have cooked up. Your human form must be the combination of their ideal men combined. You notice your hard abs and your biceps. When you look at the three of them, you realize they're all staring at your crotch.

You almost laugh, amused by their wide eyes.

Joy, Seulgi and Yeri all have the same thought.

"No way in hell is that gonna fit."

Your cock is the biggest the three of them have ever seen. Joy can't help but compare you with her boyfriend. Just by looking it seems like you're at least three times longer than him. And around two times thicker as well.

As you step closer, you snap your fingers once more. The same red silk that is still wrapped around Seulgi's and Yeri's wrists now winds itself around Joy's hands as well.

Once you reach them, they all examine your cock closer. Seulgi carefully places her own arm next to it for reference. Her eyes seem to fall out of her head when she realizes you're almost as long as her whole arm.

"This is gonna be a long night for you, huh?"

You chuckle as you reach for the bow on Joy's head. She's sitting right in front of you so you move her head towards the tip. She keeps her eyes on it, but almost as if she is in a trance, she parts her lips and you glide into her wet mouth.

When Joy starts to suck you off, her tongue swirling around your tip from time to time, you reach out for the other girls. You pull them in as well, each on one side. The three of them use their mouths to pleasure you, while you just enjoy the show.

Joy keeps on trying to take more and more. You see how her lips stretch over your cock. Your tip hits the back of her mouth and forces her to gag. Yeri and Seulgi both kiss and lick along your length on both sides. Seulgi's eyes are closed and she seems to get really into it. Her kisses become sloppier. Yeri on the other hand still can't seem to wrap her head around how big you are. While she keeps doing her job, you feel her trying to wrap her hands around your cock. It takes both of them to go around just once. You see her gulp, knowing what is eventually going to happen.

"Don't worry."

You play with Yeri's hair.

"I'll take it slow at first."

She looks so pretty when she looks up at you, her lips glued to your cock. You can see the uncertainty in her eyes. But by caressing her cheek, you make a small wave of lust rush through her body. A second later, Yeri starts to get into it just as much as Joy. She now uses her hands to stroke your base, while her lips glide along your shaft.

"Good girl."

Your praise increases Yeri's lust even further. She can feel how much she is slowly getting turned on by pleasuring you. Until now, she was almost afraid you'd fuck her with such a big cock. Now, she can barely wait for it. She wants to at least try it.

"Naughty slut."

Your words are directed at Joy, who is slowly reaching her limit. She is trying to force your cock down her throat, but your tip is almost to big to fit.

"You have to do it slowly. Ease into it."

The longer Joy has your cock in her mouth, the wetter she becomes. Unlike Yeri and Seulgi, her lust has taken over her body for a while now. She is influenced by the book the most. As you slowly guide her head back and forth, you realize that by the end of the night, Joy might loose her free will. If she keeps this up, her urges will take over and she'll become a mindless sex toy for you.

You smile at the thought. It has been a while since your last toy.

You have finally warmed up Joy's throat enough. You push further and now she can take your tip down her throat. Not without gagging, of course. Spit falls onto the floor as she tries to take more than she can handle. You keep pulling her towards you, making Joy impale her throat on your cock.

When you now focus on Seulgi, you are surprised how well she is doing. She looked too shy at first, but it seems the book has already influenced her enough as well. Looking into her soul, you can tell what her fantasies are.

"We will need to prepare you, if you really want to take it."

"Please, master. Whatever you want."

Seems like she learns faster than Yeri. While the two other girls keep servicing your cock, you pick up Seulgi as if she weighs nothing and bend her over the chair. You hike up her skirt and snap your fingers.

A small metal object lies in your hand. You reach down and place it right on Seulgi's asshole.

"Wait! Is that-"

"Yes. Don't worry. It won't hurt."

You play with her cheeks, while you push the butt plug inside. It's not really big, but that will change soon. Seulgi feels how you push it into her tightest hole, making her moan. She always dreamed of doing this, but never tried. Now she regrets it. It feels amazing.

Once the butt plug is inside of her, you reach down and push your fingers into her pussy once more. Seulgi's moans begin to fill the room once more. While Joy and Yeri keep sucking you off, you fuck Seulgi with your fingers. You glance at the two other girls, when you notice a change. Yeri seems to have become greedy. She is now the one who is trying to fit your cock in her mouth, while Joy takes care of the rest of your cock. Which is not an easy task, but you feel her plump lips doing a good job.

"Damn."

Your head rolls back as you enjoy the two girls taking care of your cock. The last time you were summoned, you only had two girls to fuck. But these three looks so gorgeous, you wouldn't mind staying on earth a little longer. You can feel how your desire to finally fuck all of them keeps on growing. You've been playing nice so far. But soon enough, you won't be able to control yourself anymore.

"C-Can I cum, master? Please?"

Seulgi's shiness has now completely vanished as she shamelessly asks you for permission to cum.

"Do it. Be a good little slut."

Seulgi moans and whines as her body shakes and her pussy clenches onto your fingers. It seems like she has grown accustomed to have something inside her ass. You tap on the butt plug and start the progress. From now on, it's going to steadily grow a little bigger inside of Seulgi, until you pull it out. You're curious to what her limit is.

"Get all in a line."

You pick Seulgi off the chair and place her next to Joy, while Yeri kneels on Joy's right side.

Seeing the three of them lined up like that, you can't help but finally go for it. You lift Joy's dress, giving her butt a smack. The cock she got while you were inside of her disappeared as soon as you left. So now, you can enjoy her pussy to the fullest. You place you tip at her dripping wet entrance.

"Take deep breaths. Otherwise it won't fit."

Joy nods hesitantly.

You push inside. Slowly. Joy lets out a drawn out moan, which doesn't seem to end, until you stop moving. You doubt her pussy will be able to take much more than half your cock. But when you do push further inside, Joy feels how you hit her curvix.

Pleasure rushes through her system as you begin to fuck her properly. Every thrust feels so powerful and deep, Joy gets scared for her life, whenever you prepare to thrust inside of her again. Soon, her moans make it impossible for her to close her mouth. She starts to drool onto the floor. The two girls to her sides watch in awe and horror. Yeri can't wait for her turn. Her brain has basically switched off by now. Her gaze is focused on Joy's lips, which seem to be stretched out beyond repair. They tightly grip onto your cock, coating it in her juices.

Meanwhile, Seulgi can feel how the butt plug inside of her steadily grows. It doesn't hurt and is only slightly uncomfortable. But the new sensation feels way better than she thought it would. Then again, the plug is no way near your size. Are you really going to put that in her ass?

Seulgi feels a knot inside her stomach, just thinking about that. You'll probably break her ass. Just like what you're doing with Joy's cunt right now.

"Fuck! Master, please!"

Joy's mind has long given up. She has learned quickly and has turned into your personal pet. She is already addicted to the feeling of your huge cock inside of her. Whatever happens, she can't let you pull out.

"Let me cum, please. I'm a good whore for you, right?"

You spank her again.

"Your not even a whore. It would emply that you're good for something. But the only thing that's useful is your pussy."

"You're right, master. I'm sorry."

Joy's breathing becomes heavier as she tries to fight back her orgasm. She doesn't dare to cum without permission.

"So, what are you again?"

You hear her whimper.

"I'm my masters pet. His cocksleeve."

"That's right."

You thrust into her a little deeper, which makes her go cross-eyed. Her right cheek is pressed to the floor in a puddle of her saliva.

"Do you want to cum? All over my cock?"

"Yes. I need to do that. All over your cock inside of me."

Seulgi and Yeri barely register what is going on. The two of them are almost as far gone as Joy. They look at her pussy with envy as you keep stretching her out with every thrust. You aren't even going that fast or hard. But the pure size of your cock almost makes them cum too.

"I'll only let you cum under one condition. And afterwards, you won't ever need to ask for permission again."

"Yes, master. Please tell me. What do I need to do? I'd do anything."

"Good."

You lick your lips. That evil smile doesn't leave your face.

"Read the last page of the book."

"W-What?"

Joy's mind is barely able to comprehend what you said. After another snap of your fingers, the book lies in front of her, the last page opened. Her fuzzy brain ignores all the warnings on the upper half of the page. When she finally finds the right text, she starts reading it out loud, without knowing what it is.

"By the shadows that bind and the fire that consumes,

I surrender myself unto thee, spirit of endless night.

My mind, my body, my pleasure—each are thine to command.

From this moment to all eternity, I am bound to thy will.

In darkness, I am yours; in light, I remain thine.

Let no force sever this vow, for I am forever yours."

Her vow gets interrupted by her own moans several times, but eventually, Joy finishes it.

You keep fucking her, letting her hang on the edge a little longer. Then you lean down as you feel a new found fire inside of you. There is no going back anymore.

"You're mine now."

You whisper into Joy's ear. And she can't hold it in any longer. She violently orgasms around your cock. Her pussy clenches onto your length with unbelievable force. More drool leaks out of her mouth and weak moans as well.

"That's it. The last part of your journey."

Your ability to cum isn't the same as the human one. You do cum, when you feel enough pleasure, but you can also orgasm on purpose. It doesn't feel as good, a little forced even, but it's part of the ritual.

And so you unload deep inside Joy's twitching body. You paint her pussy, shoot your load into her womb. You're claiming her body, after she has given herself to you. Your newly gained sex slave tries to catch her breath as she feels your warm cum literally flood all of her insides. Her whole body seems to heat up.

"Oh, god!"

Her eyes roll to the back of her head as you start to pull out of her messy pussy. She is so tight that it takes you a good half minute, until your whole cock is free again. You examine your work. Joy's gaped pussy is wide open, an unholy amount of cum leaking out of it.

You can't enjoy the view for too long though. The little brat on Joy's right has already turned around to suck her juices and your cum off your cock. Groaning, you look down on her.

"What a slut you are."

You reach over to spank her ass again. Yeri mewls, but keeps your cock inside her mouth. Her body jerks with every slap. Her cheeks turn red once more. When she finally does stop she looks up at you.

"Please, master. I just need it so bad. I'll be your pet too. Please?"

You shake your head.

"You need to learn some patience. Lie on your back. You take your punishment until I'm done with Seulgi."

Yeri nods, excited, because it seems easy. She lies down and moves her head. She watches you kneel behind Seulgi. The oldest is, just like Joy, bent over, ass up, face on the floor.

The butt plug wasn't a problem at first. But it has now become so big, that Seulgi is slowly losing her mind a little bit. Weak moans escape her lips. And she can't do anything, when she feels you tugging at the end of the metal object. It just makes her roll her eyes as more pleasure rushes through her system.

As you start to pull, the plug becomes smaller again. Once it's out, you look at Seulgi's open hole. Maybe now she'll be able to take at least some of your cock. You align yourself with her puckered ring and slowly push your tip in.

"Oh, god! Oh, god! Oh, god!"

Seulgi cries out. She's never been this stretched out. Not even in her pussy and definitely not her ass. She can't believe she is actually able to take you inside.

"Damned be the prince of darkness."

You curse under your breath. You expected Seulgi to be tight. But even after preparing her, this feels almost lethal. You're actually tempted to cum again already. Just to lube up her ass a little more. The plug produced a lubricant on its own. But it might not be enough now.

You feel how you hit Seulgi's limit deep inside of her. It makes her let out a weak yelp. Because she feels so unbelievably good, you almost forgot Yeri. You look at her now. Because her hands are still tied together, she can only rub her thighs against each other. But just making her watch won't be enough to break her. You snap your fingers.

When Yeri looks up, her eyes widen in fear. Three big red candles float above her body, right underneath the ceiling. They're all lit and soon, Yeri sees the first drop fall. She braces herself for the burning impact, biting her lips and closing her eyes.

"Ahh!"

The first drop hits her midriff. The hot wax burning her skin. Another drop. This one falls on her left cheek. Yeri moans in pain. She thought this would turn out to be horrible. But by the time the third drop lands on her thigh, dangerously close to her pussy, she realizes how good it actually feels. And then she notices that she is completely naked. When did that happen?

You turn your attention back to Seulgi, who is still breathing heavily, trying to get accustomed to your cock as deep inside her ass as possible.

She starts groaning and whining when you begin to move.

"Slowly, please."

She sighs, but you don't listen to her.

"Don't you want to be a good girl? Like Joy?"

Seulgi tries to nod.

"Yes, master. I'd do anything for you too."

"Good. You have to understand that I come first. You're here to serve me. Your pleasure is just a byproduct of that."

"You're right, master. I'm sorry. Use my ass however you like. Just pound me as hard as you want."

You can almost see how Seulgi's brain melts. You fuck her asshole a little faster, stretching her out even more. Glancing to your right, you notice how Joy hasn't moved yet. Her pussy is almost the same shape as before again. She is definitely breathing, so that's a good sign.

Yeri on the other hand, isn't as quiet. The never ending mixture of pain and pleasure makes her slowly lose her mind. Her whole body is glazed with hardening red drops of wax. It won't take long, until the pain completely fades out. Then, the only thing Yeri will be able to feel is pleasure.

"Master, you-you're going to-Oh!"

Seulgi almost orgasms in that very moment. You can tell how very close she is to cuming. You fuck her ass even faster on purpose.

"Master, please? Can you let me cum? I'm begging you..."

You let the book slide in her direction.

"You know the drill."

Without hesitation, Seulgi starts to read. If this is the only way for her to cum right now, she'll gladly walk on that path. No matter what happens afterwards.

"By the shadows that bind and the fire that consumes,

I surrender myself unto thee, spirit of endless night.

My mind, my body, my pleasure—each are thine to command.

From this moment to all eternity, I am bound to thy will.

In darkness, I am yours; in light, I remain thine.

Let no force sever this vow, for I am forever yours."

Once she said that last part, you push yourself even deeper inside of her. Seulgi lets out a cry.

"Cum."

Your order makes her thighs shake. Her pussy clenches around nothing, while her ass clamps down on your cock. That tight ring of muscles almost takes your breath away. You watch how Seulgi squirts onto the floor underneath her. Her gasps show her surprise. That was her first time.

Her brain is completely fried by now. And it only gets worse, when you cum inside of her as well. You breed Seulgi's ass, pushing your cum as deep inside of her as possible. Her tight hole tries to milk you dry.

You stay buried inside your new toy and look over to Yeri again. Her entire midriff is red by now. Some drops hit her tits as well. She isn't moaning or whining anymore. Just lying on her back, looking at you with glassy eyes. Whenever another drop falls, her body just jolts upwards for a second, but nothing else happens. Yeri has become numb. The only thing she can feel now is pleasure. You decide she's had enough punishment.

When you pull out of Seulgi, you watch how your cum leaves her asshole. It's gaping, just like Joy's pussy. You could almost fit your fist in there, if you wanted to. Just like Joy, Seulgi seems to have fallen into a deep slumber as well. Which is normal. The two of them will be back soon enough.

You now have Yeri all to yourself, without any distraction. When you walk towards her, you start to feel weird. This is odd. You thought your human form was the combination of their ideal man, like it always is. But now you start to change. Seems like Yeri has more than just guys with huge cocks in mind.

"U-Unnie?"

Yeri seems to recognize your new form.

"You're such a bad girl, Yeri."

Your voice belongs to a woman. It's cold and laced with disappointment.

"You really do like to be punished, don't you?"

"I-I'm sorry, unnie. Joy made me do it."

You almost have to chuckle as Yeri tries to throw her friend under the bus.

"Don't blame others. Just admit you're a bad girl."

You stand in front of her now. You realize that Yeri really does seem to like pain. You snap your fingers. The red silk around her wrists loosens. It flies into your hand. There, it turns black. Then hard. The end splits into two. Then four. Then eight. Small flames start to ignite on the tails of your wip.

"You know what to do."

Yeri quickly gets on her hands and knees. For some reason she suddenly is soaking wet at the sight of Irene standing in front of her, flaming wip in her hand.

She closes her eyes, bracing herself for the impact. A wosh cuts through the air and a cry follows soon after. Yeri moans as she feels her right butt cheek burn like fire. Another hit makes her other cheek burn as well.

"Please, unnie. Not so hard."

Yeri whines, but you can see how her juices are dripping off her lower lips and onto the floor. You didn't expect her to get so wet by her leader punishing her. But if that's what she desires, if that's what she needs, if that's what makes her submit to pure pleasure, so be it.

As your body is in Irene's form, you keep lashing Yeri, while marveling at how beautiful Irene must be in real life. Too bad she isn't here. She'd really improve the status of your collection. Such a gorgeous woman.

You don't stop lashing Yeri, making her arms and legs shake. Her cheeks are glowing in the darkest red, the imprints of the whip clearly visible. You lost count by now, but you might be at whip stroke number fifty. Or a hundred. You lift the whip again.

"Wait! Wait! Wait!"

You stop, looking down on Yeri.

"G-Give me the book. I'll serve you. I want to. Please, master."

You sigh.

"That's gonna be a problem. In this form, I can't have a cock. And that means, I can't cum inside or on you, claiming you as mine."

"B-But..."

You can tell how close Yeri is to tears. She is now more afraid of not being your slave than she was the first time she met you.

"I could leave this form and take on my own, real form. It might not be for you though."

"No, it's okay master. Whatever you need to do to claim me."

You tilt your head back, closing your eyes. You can basically feel how Irene's form starts to go up in flames. When you step out of the small inferno, a very small part of Yeri's brain hesitates. It's the last part that is still thinking straight. She looks you up and down. Your red skin is marked by tattoo sin a darker red, almost as dark as her own cheeks. You're taller than before and more muscular as well.

When Yeri's gaze reaches your head, she thinks it'd be a turn off. But she's wrong. For some reason, she only becomes even wetter when she sees your horns. Like the ones of a ram, they almost build a circle on either side of your head.

"Get over here."

You growl, your voice way deeper than before.

Yeri follows your order. Scooting closer, she opens her mouth, ready to suck you off. But you have slightly different plans in mind. You grab her head and start to fuck her face. Your cock repeatedly hitting the back of her mouth. Yeri soon starts to gag, drooling all over herself and the floor.

"Damn. Didn't expect your mouth to feel this good."

Yeri is barely able to give you a proud smile.

She just kneels in front of you, hands in her lap. She takes your face fucking like a good girl. She seems to have learned her lesson.

"Pick up the book."

You make it slide across the room, until Yeri feels it hit her knee. She picks it up and you regretfully leave her mouth. You are about to stroke yourself as she starts to read, but Yeri's hand is already on your cock, before you can do so. She jerks you off, while she reads from the book.

"By the shadows that bind and the fire that consumes,

I surrender myself unto thee, spirit of endless night.

My mind, my body, my pleasure—each are thine to command.

From this moment to all eternity, I am bound to thy will.

In darkness, I am yours; in light, I remain thine.

Let no force sever this vow, for I am forever yours."

"Damn."

You groan as Yeri's hand on your spit covered cock proofs too much. Even for you. Your load paints Yeri's whole face, covering it in cum. Her eyes are glued shut, her lips are covered by a heavy layer and her hair didn't get away without a couple of drops either.

You look at her as you relax. All three of them are now under your full control. In your presence, they now turn into obedient sex slaves, whenever you ask them to. They did it of their own free will. More or less.

"Oh, master. You're ruining me."

"That's the point."

Yeri keeps moaning as she looks down on herself. She is lying on her back again, while you fuck her pussy. Her belly is already bulging, after you came inside of her five times in a row. You never pulled out since the first time. Joy and Seulgi are kneeling on both of her sides. They lick and suck on her tits, while you pound her pussy.

"Master, breed me please..."

Yeri whines louder. She looks like she is a couple of months pregnant already anyway. You wonder if you could bulge her belly beyond repair, if you keep going. But you're getting impatient too.

"What a nice little cum dumpster you are."

You groan and fill Yeri with your seed for the sixth time.

When you slowly pull out, the four of you watch closely. As soon as your cock leaves her pussy entirely, all the cum inside of Yeri rushes out. Her messy, gaping, freshly fucked pussy is overflowing with cum. It doesn't seem to stop. Wave after wave leaves her body. The sticky fluid coats the floor between her legs.

You don't even have to say anything afterwards. Joy leans down and starts to lick your cum off the floor. She hums in satisfaction at the taste, her eyes blissfully closed.

"Just like that, Seulgi."

You groan as she keeps moving up and down.

When she finally confessed, you made her wish come true. It's only temporary, but now Seulgi has a bigger chest. Bigger than Joy or Yeri.

You feel her soft tits around your cock as she moves up and down your length. Her hands keep them together and she catches your tip with her mouth, whenever she is on the way down. Joy and Yeri both kneel next to her, waiting for your last orgasm. The sun is slowly coming up and the three of them have to go back to their normal lives. It'd be too suspicious if they all just stayed here until forever.

"M-Master, can you tell me how much you love my tits?"

Seulgi is still a little shy. You chuckle at her eagerness, knowing she always wanted this.

"They feel amazing, Seulgi. So soft and so big. They look perfect."

You feel her speeding up a little at your praise.

"Would you like to cum all over them?"

"Of course. How can I not, when they are so beautiful?"

Seulgi almost experiences a mini orgasm at your words, without any proper stimulation.

The sight of the oldest with her tits around your cock and the other two girls patiently waiting makes you finally reach your climax. You stand up and three girls open their mouths and stick their tongues out.

A moment later, you cum all over their faces. Like before, you cum a lot more than humans. But this time it's a lot, even for you. Their faces are soon completely covered and dripping with cum. If you'd close your eyes and they'd change places, you couldn't tell who is who.

The last two shots are dedicated to Seulgi, painting her tits in a beautiful white. Once you're finally finished, Joy leans over and puts your cock into her mouth. She starts cleaning it off. Meanwhile, the other two girls start to clean her face.

After the three girls look presentable again and are ready to leave, you open the book once more. This new century semes to be way more interesting then the last time you were here. You decide that you'll need to extend your vacation. After all, you are the personification of human pleasure. It'd be a shame if you wouldn't help out some of the humans at least a little bit.

The three girls watch, how you go up in flames and the book falls to the ground, closed. Then it opens on its own. The pages start turn themselves faster and faster. The letters on every page vanish, until the book reaches the last page. The dark ink disappears.

Joy picks up the book. They are their old selves. But slightly different. They remember everything that happened. They know you own them now. And they love it.

New words appear on the page. This time written with red ink.

"See you soon, girls."

----------------------

Hi everyone! Happy Halloween!

This might come out a little late for some people but I hope you can still enjoy it nonetheless.

Since this was originally a request from last year and this year again, I thought I should definitely write it. And I turned it into a Halloween themed fic, which was a rather spontaneous idea.

Have a great day!

[midnightscramble]

Hello I want to request one of Agatha Harkness x fem! Reader smut 🥹

Like Lightning Part 1 (Agatha Harkness x fem!Reader)

The Masterlist

Author’s Note: So, so many liberties were taken (if it’s not to your liking feel free to request again, don’t be shy!) Happy readings to you.

Summary: To Agatha’s surprise and relief her neighbor Y/n is not under Wanda’s complete control, Y/n has a feeling her and Agatha have met before…

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, pwp, slight angst/comfort, touch starved Agatha, thigh riding (Agatha receiving), biting (Agatha receiving), bottom Agatha, top reader, no Beta read

There was not much to do in Westview. The smart dressed college kids she went to school with had invited Y/n to hang out by the water tower, the go to spot for wanna be delinquents. But every night was the same, they discussed the same things with slightly more fluency than the night before, almost as if it was a rehearsal.

Rather than endure any more of the pseudo intellectual ramblings, Y/n had taken to walking at night. She walked just about everywhere, weaving in and out of neighborhoods, even taking to the near by woods. Although she couldn’t put her finger on it, there was something about Westview at night that intrigued her. The air had a dream like quality, perhaps it was the mysterious fog that invaded the town each night, or maybe it was just her imagination.

Either way, Y/n felt a keen sense of safety on these walks. The city council had recently established a town curfew, meaning everyone was supposed to be in their homes by 8 pm. Two hours later and it was guaranteed that all lights would be out as people retired for the night. Everyone seemed so eager to comply with the rules that there was not a single soul left awake to enforce them.

That was until she saw an abandoned bicycle propped up against a tree near the edge of the woods. Cautiously approaching, she let her hands run over the handles. They were warm. Someone had recently ridden the bike. Y/n looked around the empty streets, and then towards the woods. The odds were that some kid thought they’d be rebellious and runaway for the night. She huffed and debated her options: continue her walk, or prevent a would be search party.

Always the good samaritan, she trudged through the fallen leaves, letting instinct guide her. It was almost as if a magnetic force was tugging her deeper into the woods. No, a child wouldn’t have made it this far, a child would have turned back by now- the sound of crickets chirping suddenly ceased, replaced by the low hum of radio static. She stopped in her tracks a peered into the darkness.

Choppily, a disembodied voice sounded as if it were right in front if her “We ha-ve eye-s on an-other host-age”

Y/n took off in a sprint before she could process what was being said. She dropped her keys somewhere in her rush to safety but didn’t look back until she had reached the familiar pavement of the roads. Still running, she made a beeline for home, and to her great relief a light emitted from her neighbor Agatha’s window. She ran up to the front door and pounded on it. Her heart was beating so fast she feared her ribcage would give way to its force. Finally the door opened, and Y/n collapsed into the door frame.

“Oh, well hello to you too,” Agatha sing songed.

“Please you’ve got to let me in, there’s something in the woods…” Agatha’s eyes narrowed slightly as she peaked over Y/n’s shoulder to examine the outside.

With concern in her eyes, she guided the young woman in. She wasn’t quite sure if Y/n was lucid or not. It seemed unlikely that Wanda would suddenly decide to give her a gift, and equally unlikely that her wife, Y/n, was in control of her actions.

Wanda’s spell on Westview had cruelly separated Agatha and Y/n. Day after day, Agatha was forced to watch Y/n wonder, flirt, and be a pawn in the whatever plot Wanda was acting out. The two had not interacted a single time during this whole ordeal, making Agatha’s days feel endless.

Y/n being one door down and yet completely out of her reach had been driving her slightly insane. Although, she did appreciate the proximity as it allowed her to keep an eye out for any threats.

“What happened did someone chase you?” Y/n paused and looked around, she had never been inside Agatha’s home before. In fact she had never even spoken to the woman, and yet she had the oddest sensation that being here with the woman was exactly where she belonged. Y/n dug through the deepest recesses of her mind, and looked at the woman in question.

It was only then that it occurred to Y/n the peculiarity of the situation. How was it that Agatha wasn’t asleep? Everyone in Westview followed the town’s curfew, yet here Agatha was, fully dressed in day clothes and awake as ever.

She ignored Agatha’s question and posed one of her own, “How is it that we are both awake right now?”

The dark haired woman sucked in a breath. Y/n never ceased to surprise her, she should have known her wife would move against the grain even when dark magic compelled her to fall in line.

“We must not be susceptible to lullabies…” She searched Y/n’s eyes for understanding. Her crypticness only seemed to agitate her wife further. If she wanted to get away from Wanda’s prying eyes she would have to convince Y/n to come down to the cellar, where her ruins are.

Agatha arched an eyebrow, “Care for a drink?” Y/n nodded and followed her to the kitchen. On autopilot she started making the woman a vodka soda, but as she reached to place it down on the counter Y/n grabbed her wrist.

“How did you know my drink?” Not releasing her hold, Y/n pushed into the woman’s personal space, trying to intimidate her. Backing her into the wall she asked again, “What do you know?”

Agatha swallowed, the longing that had built up these past few months had left her positively starved for her wife’s touch. The feeling of the woman's body pressed against hers made her release a whimper. Y/n eyes darkened, and her breathe became shallow at the small noise Agatha emitted. Her grip on the woman's wrist loosened and she soothingly rubbed the pads of her fingertips against the reddened skin.

Even with no memory, Agatha thought to herself, the woman before her was still her sweet Y/n. Still caring even when frustrated and fighting.

For a moment, they stayed in that position, tightly pressed against the wall, breathing the same air until the lights of the house suddenly cut out. Y/n gasped as they were plunged into darkness. She clung onto Agatha, "What's going on, please I need to know."

She slipped out of the hold and tugged Y/n's hand gently, "You'll have to come with me." Silently they walked down the basement stairs. Large stones with carvings were littered across the floor, coming together to make a pentagram and Agatha guided them to the center. Wisps of purple floated through the air, like cotton candy being carried by the wind. In awe, Y/n reached out and gently touched it, it crinkled and cracked against her fingers like electricity. She turned to Agatha, waiting for an explanation.

...

They sat across from each other on the floor, far more relaxed as the reality of the situation was brought to light.

"And you're working to stop Wanda?" Y/n clarified.

"Well, now we're working to stop Wanda."

"But who exactly are we?" Agatha bit her lip before responding, "I'm your wife."

Y/n's eyes widened, she wished she could say it was in disbelief but she was mostly impressed with herself. A slow smile spread across her face, cat like and absolutely predatory, "Is that why you liked me corning you earlier?"

Agatha flushed, "You have to understand, I've been alone for months," as the woman explained herself Y/n started a slow crawl forward, "and having to watch you-"

"You've been watching me?"

"No! I mean yes, but not like that." Agatha buried her head in her hands. She jumped slightly feeling Y/n's hand close around her ankle, using her strength to drag the woman closer.

Once there was little space between them, Y/n carded her fingers through Agatha's hair, "That sounds awful, but I have to say, I'm glad you were alone" her grip tightened on the brown strands tugging her head back and exposing her neck, "I wouldn't want anyone else keeping you company."

Agatha's eyes closed as Y/n's lips met her neck, the feeling distracted her from the hand unfastening her jeans. She opened them when Y/n huffed with impatience. Agatha would have stopped to tease but she had waited too damn long for this. She made quick work of the pants and slid them down her smooth legs. The moment she was unoccupied Y/n hands were back on her, squeezing and rubbing every inch of skin almost as if she was confirming that Agatha was truly there.

Everyone else in Westview had seemed hallow, like a projection of a person, but Agatha was real. She was real and soft, and radiated heat.

Their mouths clashed against each other's and Agatha moved to straddle Y/n's leg. She slowly brought her hips down and rocked forward. Agatha broke the kiss as a shuddered breath left her. Purple clouds started gathering above the ruins, churning with energy. Peering above her, Y/n smirked at the display of uncontrolled magic. She could feel wetness gather on her thigh as Agatha's movements became rythmic, and the clouds above them rumbled.

Moaning into the other woman's mouth, Agatha's cunt clenched around nothing. Moving her hands to the woman's waist, Y/n forced her to move faster. Beads of sweat ran down Y/n's neck as the room grew humid, she looked at the beautiful woman above her, her wife. In act of pure possession she bit the soft flesh between her neck and shoulder, sinking her teeth in until she felt skin break. Agatha cried out and a loud crack sounded behind them, her hips stuttered to a halt and her toes curled at the sensation washing over her. Y/n ran her tongue over the bite soothingly and continued moving Agatha's hips until she pushed her away, overstimulated.

Cheeks flushed and out of breath, Agatha let out a laugh. Following her line of sight, Y/n turned to see what she was looking at. A spot on the floor was scorched.

It appeared as though lightening had struck.

[the-bear-and-his-sunbird]

After ten years of not writing fanfiction, Baldurs Gate 3 has me in a chokehold. Inspired by one of the songs Halsins VA Dave Johnson put into his Halsin playlist, i made this. If you want the full experience listen to "I want to be your only pet" by Bombay Bicycle Club.

The whole playlist ist gold to be honest, so if you haven't do check that out.

The Tav is based on my Character Òrfhlaith (say it like Orla) who started as a Sorcerer/Bard and respecc. into Sorcerer/Paladin. For the sake of the story, the Tav is not named and only described with she/her pronouns and the title songbird.

English is not my first language, so if you find any spelling errors or grammatical mistakes, please do point it out.

I Want to be your only pet (I want to let go and forget)

Paring: Halsin x female!Tav (Halsin POV)

Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Yearning.

If you prefer Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55315462

Warnings: Mentions of past Trauma, sight violence, explicit description of blood, hinted panic attack, explicit sexual thoughts. Minord DNI!

Description:

“My Bear, my bear. My sweet, sweet Bear. I will protect you. I will see you safe. You have nothing to fear as long as you are with me. And if I cannot promise you anything, I promise you this: You are safe with me.”

Little snippets of Halsin learning to let down his guard around Tav and his every growing yearning through Act I- III.

After the group freed him from the Goblin Camp, which was honestly a miracle in itself, they went on to save the Grove. Halin still could not believe it. After all the moments worrying, hoping, praying he would find a way to ward off all harm, it was done. The Grove was preserved and on the way to begin anew, whilst the Tieflings were on their way to Baldurs Gate. Not that he would call it safe in any way. Even if he wished them a happier ending, he feared for their lives on the road to the city. Halsin prayed that Sylvanus would watch over the group of refugees. Especially whenever he thought about them having to pass through the shadow cursed lands on their own.

When they finished saying their goodbyes, Halsin asked permission to stay at camp. In his heart he knew that they would need his help to pass through the shadow curse. After all, he had seen it put into place, living with its weight for over a hundred years. If his knowledge could help them towards their goal, he would be glad for it.

Their way would be long and traveling with them would mean leaving the grove behind but for all that it was worth he was relieved to give up the title of Archdruid; it had clung to his shoulders long enough. If he was being honest, he never was really good at it. Sure enough, he understood enough of politics and leadership to keep everything running, but it teared at him. Every nag and every whisper a shred of himself fell away. People like Nettie made it bearable, but he knew that due to his position there was a distance between them that could not be bridged. So he quietly yearned for nature's sweet caress again, when he would run out in the early morning hours his paws on the soft, wet ground, looking for berries and honey. Hunting at night. Unburdened from the limitations, being Archdruid gave him. No, he was not sad at all, to let all that go. and Francesca would lead the Druids to a new beginning. Remind them of the true intentions they should strive for.

The first days in camp were truly magical, though so very different than the hundred years before: Being able to enjoy the sunbeams on his face, the crisp air of morning, knowing that no one would ask him to lead the way. No one to depend on his judgment and whisper about his decisions in the hidden corners, when they thought he would not hear them. The people in camp gave him space to go after his day, not wanting his leadership nor needing it. They shared their meals with him and though some eyed him suspiciously, no one bothered him. Mostly he was left to ponder over the shadow curse and the illithid infection.

Though she came to him every now and then. Halsin could tell that she was the leader of their, rather chaotic, crew. When she spoke, they listened. Some rather … reluctantly at the beginning. But nevertheless, they accepted her plans and did what they could to support each other on the road. And she was patient with them in return. At least more patient than most of the people he knew. Even when she had to end the quarrels between them seemingly every other night, she only used harsh words in situations deserving of them.

That did not mean that she was above frustrations: One time, after a particularly bad fight between Gale and Astarion (the rogue accused the brown haired man of having stolen a copy of one of his books to eat it, telling him to use his own damn library for dinner) where they nearly set the campground on fire, she had set them straight sternly, her brow furrowing, using a surprising colorful vocabulary.

Halsin admired her vigor to go on, no matter how bad her group returned at night. Often she would go to every person in camp chatting for a few moments, her face still swollen and bloody. Most of the time, she would swiftly discard her armor and put on some (relatively) clean clothes, yet sometimes she only undid the heaviest part of her armor, chucking it away carelessly, as she went on to greet the first person. She asked them about their day, offering them counsel if needed. Every time she also appeared at his side at the end of her round. Her eyes shining with a warmth that he could only describe with a warm summer's evening.

He came to like the routine. The few first nights she would ask about his comfort and share a few kind words with him. Later, when they neared the shadow cursed lands, she requested advice trying to find the best route. While he explained she listened intently, nodding while he was mapping the ways and when he finished, she thanked him for his words before she left. It was nice. Not having to answer for every decision that was made, but his words being heard and acknowledged. It made him feel warm.

After that she returned to her usual routine. Asking him about his well being with a soothing voice, smiling at him like the fresh morning sun. One particular evening, after she left, Halsin could not help but keep thinking about the way she leaned her head when she was listening. Or how her eyes focused when she was mulling over ideas.

He found her attractive, he did not need to deny it. But the way his attention seemed to stick to her, like a fly on a honeypot, made him uneasy. There was a time and place for such thoughts and he did not believe the current situation to be one of those. So he stuffed the thoughts of her laugh and her eyes far away and carried on.

Halsin heard her sing, one time at camp. Wyll was sharing a story about the fine dances back in Baldurs Gate and bards that could induce you with whatever feeling they pleased, with just a few strokes of their instruments. The Warlock recalled the way one particularly skilled bard sang a ballad full of yearning and heartache, that he never heard again. Halsin heard her surprised exclamation, telling the horned man excitedly that she knew that song by heart. Wyll had politely asked her to sing it for them, only if she did not mind. And she did not mind at all.

Her voice sounded a bit coarse at the beginning (there were not many occasions to sing anymore) but soon her voice unfolded like a flower petal in bloom. Halsin could have sworn to Sylvanus, her voice sounded like a songbird, both sweet and rich. Soon she was weaving a net with each syllable, entangling the listeners with her honey voice. Turning his head he could see entranced eyes, some humming along softly and tapping their feet. A gentle breeze passed through them as the song ended. Gentle quiet settled over camp. For a moment everyone seemed to be lost in their own thoughts before Karlach asked for another song, excitement barely contained. With a glint in her eyes, the songbird began to sing a folkish song. One that was easier to follow and more well known, stomping along to the beat. And soon enough a few of them joined in. All in all it went on to be a surprisingly jolly evening. From his spot on a thick branch, Halsin watched them sing and dance around, grabbing onto the unwilling campmates pulling them along, much to their pretended dismay.

She had suddenly stood before him then. Hand outstretched, eyes shining like the sun itself had made its home there. With his heart pounding in his chest, Halsin stared up to her.

“Will you be joining us?” She asked in a melodic tone. He wished for nothing more than to keep her voice around for the rest of the night.

It would have only taken him a word. One word and he could have joined their merry dancing, their laughter. But he did not dare to. Not with the memory of the Shadow Curse hanging on his shoulders, whispering every single failure he could count into his ear. Not with Thaniel lost, not with the unspoken promise of saving him or die trying. With a heart so heavy it could drag him right into the ground, Halsin shook his head. “Another time. But thank you for your invitation. It is greatly appreciated.” Her smile faltered. He could have sworn to see a flicker of concern in her eyes. With a pang of regret the Druid tried to say something soothing- He did not mean to steal the sun from her eyes.

As he was trying to find his words, she smiled again. “All is well, my friend. You take your rest and tomorrow we will see to the Shadow Curse.”

Her eyes laid intently on him, unfaltering. He could swear he saw a different kind of fire there. “We will see it broken and Thaniel freed once again. I swear." The way she said it filled Halsin with hope. She seemed so sure of it.

Before he could say anything in response, someone from the group (he could swear it was Shadowheart, rare laughter spilling from her lips) was pulling her away from him again. He watched her pick up her laughter full of sunshine again, holding the hand of the young cleric. Under the sea of stars she radiated light and warmth, turning in a circle, stumbling over her feet and catching herself, before holding onto someone elses hand. Halsin wondered how it would feel to catch her, to make her laugh and bring the light into her eyes. Holding her close to his chest as he traced the rivers of starlight on her skin. To bite her tender skin, taste her, devour her. Halsin inhaled sharply, willing the golden sparks on his skin away. He reminded himself that such were no thoughts to have. Now was not the time to relax and to come undone. Not before he had freed Thaniel and lifted the Shadow curse. This was his duty before everything else. She would help him. That was a small relief in the suffocating fear that had nested itself in his heart so very long ago.

With a sigh he looked at the wood he was chipping away at. He had to be alone for a moment. Grabbing his utensils, he stood up, swiftly waving goodnight towards the group as his feet carried him back to his bedroll. Staring up towards the stars, he wondered if he should carve a dancing bird.

After they saved Thaniel and killed Ketheric Thorm the land bloomed once more, roots emerging from the earth tasting the sun's kiss once again.There were no words in the world that could describe how he felt then. Everything he worked for, all that he wished for over 100 years, came to life. Just like that. The land that had clawed at them mere hours ago, now flourished in the light of the sun, reaching for it like they were drowning. Halsin felt like the weight on his shoulders had lifted a bit. Years of feeling like there was not enough air, now seemed to ease, as every inhale came a little easier to him. For a moment he let himself rest and gazed at the scenery around him, when a high pitched yelp ripped him out of his thoughts.

Startled, he turned towards the sound: Karlach had gathered everyone in reach of her in her arms, squeezing them tight to her chest. His Songbird laughed as she was swept up in the embrace of the tiefling woman, laughing freely. He cherished the starry eyed look she had, as she looked back on the land, her chest swelling with pride. There was seldom a moment when she looked so full of wonder, so carefree.While she smiled often before the others, when no one looked, her eyes turned grim, as a heaviness Halsin recognized all too well took hold of them. Shoulders sagging as if the burden of the world sat on her shoulders. It was a relief to see her unburdened, even if only for a moment.

When his gaze lingered on her face a second too long, their eyes met and time seemed to still, nothing existing besides them for a moment. Then she shot the elf a questioning look. Shame bloomed in his chest, as Halsin had realized he got caught staring like a fool and then kept looking at her still. Suddenly he wished to make himself as small as a mouse. But to his surprise she merely reached over to him and pulled him into the hug

“You are officially one of us now.” She said sneaking her free arm around his chest, squeezing him towards her. At least he thought it was her arm.

“Next time join us earlier.” So she must have thought his stare stemmed from lacking inclusion in the group. Halsin hoped, she would not find out the real reason he had been staring.

That evening the group celebrated once again. It was rather modest, as the weeks before had depleted their ressources greatly. Still, the relief after surviving moonrise tower seemed to give them new energy. Now the whole group seemed to buzz with excitement for the next chapter to come. As they drank and talked, Halsin could feel himself relax more than he had in years before- His Pipe pressed between lips, letting out a puff of fragrant smoke and watching it swirl into the bright night sky, whittling tools in hand again, chipping away at it slowly. The ground under him was soft and warm, bustling with life, ready to begin anew.

He chuckled as the songbird watched her in an armwrestling competition with Karlach, Wyll and Lae’zel on the side, discussing their forms, throwing in a bit of advice every now and then. Even if she was strong, Karlach bested the songbird easily, apologizing the whole time. Halsin could swear he saw a coin switch hands in the background. Whoever did not bet on Karlach was foolish, that woman would best everyone in camp, including himself. As Gale and Astarion started to bicker again, the songbird stood up and shooed them to do “something useful for once” with a grin. She loved them, he could see it clear as day. Seeing her made his chest uncomfortably tight.

Later that evening she came to him, out of breath, sweat glistening on her skin. She had been playing with the dog and the owlbear again. Eunning away with Scratches' ball before getting tackled, when she did not manage to run fast enough. She pointed her finger to the spot next to him.

“Is this seat taken?” She inquired, her skin flushed and eyes twinkling.

He smiled. “ No. If you want to rest here for a while, you are more than welcome.” The elf shifted to the side, allowing her to sit down next to him. She quickly made herself comfortable on the floor and crossed her legs. Her gaze shifted to his hands, holding his piece of wood.

“Can you teach me how to whittle? Every time I see you, I wonder how you do it and … I thought that this night is as good as any to ask you. If that’s not too much to ask” her voice seemed to waver at the end.

Was she nervous? Halsin wondered if he was intimating her somehow. Before he spoke he softened his tone on instinct.

“I don’t know if there is much to say about it. Most people tend to perceive it as boring, anyway. But nevertheless I’d be honored to show you, if you really want to.”

She shrugged. “Well most people can stuff it.” A huff escaped her lips when she saw the surprised look Halsin gave her.

“You do well to know what you like: They cannot take that away from you. No matter how much they sneer about it, this is yours. And besides: whittling is a hobby as good as any other.” He contemplated her words for a moment.

“Sometimes I think people look at me and think my feelings can’t be hurt” Halsin stilled for a moment “Thank you for your words. I appreciate them greatly.” She shot him a smile as the elf picked up his utensils again. While he was showing her what to use and how to begin, she listened attentively, asking for clarification a few times. When she leaned over, he could feel her warm breath on his skin. Hastily he cleared his throat and went on to explain.

“For me the vision of what I’ll carve comes when I’m already in the process. But for the first time, it would be a smart choice to already have an idea in mind.” He handed her a piece of wood, which she started turning in her hands over and over again, contemplating. Holding up his own work so he could show her.

“You could start with a spoon if you’d to begin very simple. Or if you would rather enjoy something artistic I could show you a fox or a bi-”

“A Bear.” Taken aback, Halsin looked over to her. She did not falter, as she continued. “It is you who is showing me how to do it, no? I met you as a bear the very first time. And …” She hesitated. “You do inspire me, you know? So, I would like to do a bear.”

By Silvanus, the bear would like to do you , he thought. Alone the notion that she was inspired by him of all people. Did she even know how extraordinary she was? But that was a thought he would keep to himself. So instead he said: “A Bear it is then.”

He showed her the outlines of the piece and what she would have to expect, while she was whittling. Soon they both worked in silence, elbows touching every now and then. Halsin sneaked a glance at her face: She made her focused face again, eyes solely on the wood in her hand, crouching over it, trying to find the best position for her blade. The tall elf chuckled and looked at his work again. His wooden bird came along just fine. The upper side of the outstretched wings was already apparent with its head thrown towards the sky, beak open as if right in the middle of a song. He wondered if he should carve the legs to be standing solidly on the ground or rather ready to set to the sky, when Galel came to them, asking for support on “urgent matters”.

“Thank you for your time.” came her voice from next to him. She gently brushed the shavings from her legs before standing up. “Will keep showing me how to whittle? I had a lot of fun,” her eyes held a cheeky twinkle “even if some people will call me boring now.”

With a short laugh he responded: “Well I hope you do well to know that you can be boring with me anytime.”

“Well. Until we meet here again, to be boring together.” She cackled and waved him goodbye, walking alongside the talking wizard. As Halsin watched her leave, he wondered why his chest was so tight again.

Sighing, he gathered the wood chips on one pile, cradling the rough wood between his big hands before discarding it.

It was not that he wanted to harbor her for himself. Far from it. She was a beacon of light in these dark times, one that everyone was sure to enjoy having around. And she seemed to like the company of her friends so much. But still his heart betrayed him. He would have loved to sit alone with her a moment longer, her light breathing next to him and their skin touching gently. Maybe she would lean over again, so he could smell her hair. In the short moments when the wind blew just right, her smell carried over to him: fire and berries. He wondered how she managed to smell like that. Maybe he would have asked her about it. Maye she she would have accidentally brushed his hand and he would have gathered his courage, reaching for it, holding it tight. A shudder ran through him. Maybe it was better that she left. He wondered how much longer desire in him would have stayed silent, when it wanted nothing more than to hear her breath coming quicker, tasting the sweetness of her skin, telling him that she needed him like a song- He shushed himself, swatting at his thoughts like they were flies. He picked up the wood she left for the next time. Weighing it in his hands, he looked at it. A Bear she wanted to whittle. He chuckled sadly. As if she had not been whittling away at his guard for such a long time.

Whilst on their way to Baldurs Gate, she came to his tent every evening and they calmly whittled away. Most of the time, both of them sat in silence. But sometimes they would share a few words, talking about their interests and stories, sharing comfort in their presence. One quit evening, when the others were gathering some supplies on the road, leaving the camp in a state of unusual calm, she opened up to him about her insecurities. Telling him about her experience as the group leader, comparing it to her wildly different life before.

In the spur of the moment Halsin asked her if she wanted to go back after this was all done. The whittling stopped, while her brow furrowed. For a second he was afraid that he overstepped. Was ist too personal? Did it bring up troubling memories for her?

But she laid her hand on his arm and found his gaze. “Actually I prefer it now. Even in these dire times.,” in her eyes a sudden bitterness pooled. ”I got all of you now, after all. That is more than I had before.” As her gaze shifted towards her workpiece again, Halsin noticed her hand lingering on his skin before pulling away to adjust her grip on the wood. The spot on his skin her hand had rested upon, felt empty now. He turned his head towards his own project again, not wanting to inquiry any further.

It was peaceful for a few days. So peaceful that he nearly forgot all the horrors that the world entails. Soon they reached Rivington. Their excitement for the city had already turned to anxiety as they reached the city gates, being denied entry as all the refugees were. For Halsin this Situation was unbearable. Seeing all these people in little makeshift tents, sleeping on the cold hard floor, having barely enough food to feed all the children. hated the city for its uncaring nature. Seeing all of the city's misdeeds he wondered if they felt any shame at all. All this time he held himself to such high standards, as he tried again and again to be deserving of the title as Archdruid. The leaders of this city could leave a legion to starve right before the city gates and be praised for it.

Since they took Yenna into their camp, he tried his best to keep his composure. The young girl was already scared enough and did not need to see the adults around her losing their nerves too. So he tried his very best to appear calm and collected, while a storm raged under his skin, growing stronger every day. One hungry face at a time.

The final breaking point approached in front of the circus gates. Halsin had seen the posters advertising the circus time and time again. A clown they all seemed to be excited for. Telling him about the jokes he would tell and all the attractions that could be seen. He did not truly understand the concept of that yet but he was willing to try, if the group decided to visit.

But in a cruel twist of fate, it seemed they did not need to go to the circus but rather it came to them. When it started to dawn, his group decided to pack up for the night, making their way down the roads of Rivington. A rather big crowd had formed cheering a sturdy human man on as he cracked his whip, forcing the animals to dance on small stands, as a middle aged woman played a fast song on a wooden flute. His blood ran hot through his veins as anger seemed to swallow him whole. He could feel the bear in him stir, ready to attack and tear the flesh of this disgusting person's bones. The noise around him made him nauseous. Halsin didn’t know why the fighting started. One moment he was thinking about ripping and screaming and the other he saw his songbird emerge from the crowd, weapon in hand, fighting a cloaked figure. Jumping forth as fur emerged from his skin, he did not care who started it at all. He was glad for the fight.

After the battle was won, Halisin stayed as a bear, wishing for the comfort this shape brought him. His strong body shifting on his paws, every smell more intense but also his mind quieted a little. Everything seemed more manageable like this. But now even as a bear his heart pounded and his breathing did not seem to slow. As Halsin stood still, he noticed that his body was shaking like leafs in the wind, the memories of long bygone times whispering in his mind, demanding to be seen, no matter how much he seemed to push them away. He growled and made his way back to camp with the others. He needed to be away from everything for a while. No one should see him losing control like that.

He did not care what looks he became as he nearly ran through camp, ignoring his name being shouted. There were only his feet, pounding on the ground, coming quicker with every moment until he was sprinting into the first spot of trees he could see, not stopping until his feet reached water. The Lake. Exhaling he pressed his snout into the water only coming up for air when he felt like his lungs were about to explode. He did not want to be alone like this. But also he could not go back, have them ask questions about why. Especially when he did not seem to know either.

A thump behind him alerted him prompting his muscles to tense on instinct. He sprung around, jaws open to expose his sharp teeth. She stopped in her tracks, carefully holding up her hands.

“Halsin? Do you need help? Are you hurt?” Her voice was gentle but Halsin detected an urgency behind it. Looking for a reaction, she slowly stepped close to him, kneeling down an arms length away, her right hand outstretched towards him and stilled. Uncertain his eyes flickered between her and the trees. The light had already vanished, casting her silhouette in blue and gray hues, as she silently waited for him to breach the distance. He realized that she was leaving him the choice: To either come to her or run away if he felt the need.

Desperation clawed at him. Why did he even hold back? What was it good for in the end? She was here now, offering comfort. He would be a fool to deny her. So he took the last step towards her and laid his face into her hand. A sigh escaped her lips, that he could only describe as relieved. Soon enough her fingers started carefully stroking him. Minutes passed, his breathing coming slightly slower than before, his mind gradually clearing from the fog of panic he was lost in.

“Oh my sweet friend.” she whispered, her steady voice not much about a whisper. Her right hand was still on the side of his face, gently caressing him. He did not want to bear the burden anymore, to shoulder it all alone. All the memories of hardship and loss, the memory of himself sitting behind cold and rotting Goblinbars and, before that, behind a closed bedroom door, his eyes tracing the pattern of the carvings on the door time and time again until they burned themselves behind his closed eyes.

It broke him when he saw the eyes of the animals. He knew the look all too well.Some of them had no hope of escaping anymore. Those who did looked like they paid greatly for their resistance: Time and time again under the cruelty of their so called masters. One day even those who held on the longest would give in. They would become the broken puppets the Circus desired. Their fur dulled, their scales spotty. Dancing to some people's badly played lute. Carving patterns into the iron rods. He could have sworn that they would carve and carve like he did-

Halin shuddered and pulled his fangs back. If he would not be in his bear form already, it surely would have been broken free by now. He could taste the blood in his mouth, could free it dripping down on the cold forest floor. Halsin wanted to pull back. He did not want her to see him like this, afraid and grappling for control. He felt his trembling in the trees around them.

When her other hand appeared on his head, he finally looked up. His eyes adjusted in the dark to really look at her. After the fight, she had thrown the upper half of her armor away and traded it for a dirty shirt which by now had been stained with no small amount of blood. With her arms outstretched towards him, he was able to see the smears and stains that appeared blue and purple on her skin and hair. Blood both from her own wounds and those inflicted on others were running over her skin like a river delta. Even though she smelled like blood and sweat and leather, the wind carried the faintest whiff of berries- It startled him. After all this her hair still smelled like herself. It was absurd.

Halsin wondered if he began imagining things. Nevertheless, his tension eased a bit as he allowed himself to step an inch closer, nostrils flared. She smelled lovely, more now than ever.

“Let me help you. My gentle bear, let me heal your wounds.” She whispered again, her hands stroking his fur, beckoning him closer.

My Bear, she had said. If his mind had been clearer, he would have asked her about it. But right now Halsin gave in and pressed his head even harder into her hands. He did not want to think anymore. He wanted to relax into her warm touch and forget.

She pulled him close, guiding his head onto her lap, as she sat on the stained earth below them. Halsin let himself fall to the floor, his strained limbs protesting. The Bear groaned as he adjusted himself to laying on the floor, without bothering his wounds too much. As soon as he stilled, one of her hands started to caress his neck, the other gently touching his snout. It had stopped dripping blood, but he tasted it still on his tongue. He winced again, wishing to wash the foul smell of these people away.

"Shhh." She hummed “ It’s alright. You’re alright. Let me take care of you.” Her hands suddenly stilled. “Can you show me where you are hurt?”

In my heart he wanted to say. But the bear was not able to speak and he was glad for it, his treacherous thoughts would not reach her ear. Instead he forced himself to turn himself on his side, so she could see his stomach. His already dark fur was clumped with strands of blood and dirt, in the night it seemed to be almost black. When he had pushed himself on his hindlegs to strike at his opponents, his soft underpart was exposed just long enough to strike him.

In the darkness she reached over, her hand already glowing. Bowing her head onto his, her forehead silently connecting with him, she whispered sweet nothings into his ear. Halsin felt her magic on his body as it encouraged flesh to mend and skin to heal. To him her energy felt like hope in new beginnings. Like the soaring of wings. It felt like being home again. Almost felt like the relief he felt after they saved Thaniel. She truly was his sun, with the way her entire being seemed to emit warm light, his beacon that guided him through the darkest of times. Everywhere she went, it felt summer had begun anew.

Only moments passed until his body was healed, but her hands stayed on his fur long after it. Several minutes went by in silence, with only their breathing filling the space between them. After a while she groaned and repositioned her leg, wincing. Guilt exploded in his chest as he looked up, slightly pulling away from her, reading her expression. She gave him a tired smile, bloodied lips stretching to reveal her dimples. Halsin realized how exhausted she really looked, not only from the battle but rather carrying the weariness of all the weeks in her eyes. And still she went to care for him, before all others.

Halsin wanted nothing more than to keep her to himself, to shield her from all her sorrows and to be held by her in return: To find comfort in each other. The desire to hold her tight seemed to burn through his chest, gnawing his way up until he felt like he could choke. Who was he to ask anything of her? He tried pulling away from her completely, but her hand on his back tightened

“Don’t go away. Please. I don’t want… “ She trailed off. Halsin saw a flicker of anxiety on her face. “Stay, please. Just for a moment.”

She let go, stretching her arms out wide in front of him. An Invitation. Halsin noticed that her eyes held the same request, like the day she asked him to dance and like so many nights before It would only take him so little to accept. He forced himself to push his worry down, as the Bear pushed his head into her hand. In an instant she pulled him close into her chest, pressing her face into his fur. The bear inhaled sharply as her arms tightened around him in a silent plea. It felt like she tried to wrap her entire body around him. Carefully he lifted one of his blood-soaked paws and wrapped himself around her, gently pulling her into his chest. Now she nearly laid on him, her body rising and falling quickly with his ragged breath. It still was very fast.

As if reading his thoughts she murmured: “Breathe with me.” Pushing himself back on his hind legs, he pulled her even further onto him, which earned him a soft laugh from her, and rested his head carefully on her back, observing her steady breathing. Trying to detect a pattern, he started to exhale and inhale in rhythm with her, his heart slowing down little by little. Relief washed over him, gentle but strong, like an ocean wave that came upon the shore. A part of him wondered if she knew how much this calmed him, breathing together as the gentle night breeze carried it away.

Hasin felt her hand begin to draw patterns on his chest, trying to untangle the knots in his fur whenever her fingers catched a particularly bad one and finally closed his eyes. Nothing could coax him away from this moment, having her in his arms, her warmth seeping into his fur, holding a light within him that kept his sorrows at bay. If the world would have ended in this moment, he would not care for it.

After what felt like hours of peaceful silence, he felt her stir again. She hesitated for a moment but then turned her mouth towards his ear and spoke.

“My Bear, my bear. My sweet, sweet Bear. I will protect you. I will see you safe. You have nothing to fear as long as you are with me. And if I cannot promise you anything, I promise you this: You are safe with me.”

Halsin felt like his heart wanted to explode in his chest. Warmth began spreading in his body, sending a pleasant feeling into his exhausted body. My bear. The first time he heard the word could have been a mistake on his part, born of wishful thinking and the blood flowing from his wounds. But she said it again. And again. My bear. Oh to be hers indeed.

Halsin wished her to hold him like this every night, have her close, let her stroke his hair and tell him that there is nothing to worry about, like a prayer that only he could hear. To have her say that he is safe with her again and again until he started believing it again. And he would swear to her that she is safe with him, promising it with every breath, kissing it into her skin. He would be pulling her in his arms softly as either elf or bear. Holding her and letting himself be held. Feeling her body against his, shielding her from harm. Halsin desperately wanted to worship her every inch, calling her all the wondrous things he could think of.

Showing her how much he needed her in any way possible, hearing her scream his name into the night, her moans just as beautiful as her songs. He longed to leave his mark upon her skin, to show everyone how desired she was, for nature had made her so very beautiful, inside and out. If she did not know by then that she was like the sweetest honey to him, he would make sure she knew every day and night.

He scolded himself for being selfish. But her words, the way she called him mine; he wondered if there was any possibility she could return his feelings after all. That she felt the same way he did, when she gazed at him. Why else would she call him my bear? But uncertainty rang loudly in his ears. What would he do, if he was wrong about it? She called the others my friend and some even sweetheart. What if he misunderstood her intentions and she left him, disgusted by his brazen words? No, disgusted by him.

Then he would never be able to look at himself again. Only imagining that she could sneer at him and turn away hurt him beyond comprehension.

Tonight he could not muster the strength. Too sweet was her embrace, too comforting her words. And he was so tired of pretending he possessed strength that had left him years ago.

Nestling even further into her skin, he savored every second. He just wanted to breathe in her scent and pretend that his feelings were returned. Pretend that he was wanted the same way like he wanted her. Pretend that there were better days to come for him, where he could be himself with her. Building a safehouse for everyone who needed it so that no one would ever fear for their lives again. He imagined never carrying so much weight again. But those were far away dreams. No, tonight Halsin could not shoulder the dark shroud of reality. Instead he vowed to ask her about it, to finally ask her if she felt the same. Tomorrow.

If he only knew, how much she yearned to do the same.

[urcrowley]

Floral Flame

— Florist!Touya X Reader —

(NO QUIRKS AU , I NEED TO HEAL 🤚🤚🤚)

YOGiNotes: I can’t believe I’m writing this but here we are!! We need more male reader fics guys.. I feel left out /j

(EVERYONE LITERALLY DRAGGED ME TO THE DABI BRAINROT!1!1! STOP THIS MADNESSSSSS)

Completely made this in a rush and out of boredom! I apologize for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. It is a bit short for my liking but I do hope you still enjoy! 🙏

Warnings: some swearing ig (?) ; very unfunny author ; angst will cook soon (not in this chapter though….)

“My flower…”

Y/N muttered to himself, staring at the now-wilted flower. With a gentle touch, he reached out and tapped one of the fragile petals, watching as it detached from the wilting bloom and fell to the ground.

“I should probably ask that old hag for some advice again, huh?”

He was talking about the older yet amicable woman who ran the flower shop just a few blocks away from his apartment. He regretted not remembering her name. With a less-than-careful tug, Y/N detached his backpack from the corner where it had been gathering dust and carelessly dumped its contents onto the bed, each item making a soft thump sound as it hit the mattress. Y/N cautiously placed the flower pot into his bag once everything was out and grabbed a random coat from the rack beside the door. As he walked out, he tried to tie his shoes while keeping up with his pace.

Almost causing himself to fall.

Well, almost.

He strolled over to his locked bicycle, hopping on it shortly. He rode his bicycle to the shop. But when he arrived..

He was not greeted to the usual ‘good day’ of the kind old woman; rather, a man who didn’t look too far off his own age.

‘This guy definitely listens to mcr..’

Y/N thought to himself, as he waved at the guy. Putting up a front, smiling politely.

“Excuse me? Do you know where—“

“She’s not here today.”

…okay, rude?

“Oh.. When will she—“

“Next week.”

This guy was getting on Y/N’s nerves if he was being completely honest.

“Who are you anyways?”

Y/N was only met with silence and a cold blank stare. He stared back because— well, to be Frank, he didn’t know what else to do.

“I work here.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

He could hear the man click his tongue in annoyance.

“I don’t have to answer to you,” he rolled his eyes, “now, do you need help with anything or something?”

“Is that how you usually treat your customers?”

“…yeah? So what?”

“Nothing, just saying it’s a big.. contrast to what I’m used to.”

The man's gaze fixed on Y/N with a steely glare, his eyes narrowing as if affronted by Y/N's audacity to utter such a statement. “Whatever.. just tell me what you need so we can be done here.”

“Right.. so um..”

Y/N withdrew the flower from his backpack and gingerly placed it on the counter of the checkout. He then glanced up at the man, a sheepish smile playing on his lips.

“I don’t know what went wrong.. I did what I was told and kept managing my watering time..”

Dabi, as indicated by his nametag, meticulously examined the flower, leaning closer to get a better look. It was clear the flower was already dead, leaving him to ponder Y/N's actions beforehand. Y/N, however, contemplated if Dabi was thinking something profound like 'this plant hadn't received the precise amount of water it required,' or if it was something stupid simple and meaningless like ‘I wonder what I’ll have for dinner later.’

Jokes on him, Dabi was thinking of both.

Dabi let out a sigh and rolled up his sleeves, revealing the tattoos on his arms. Y/N was tempted to take a peek, but quickly reminded himself not to be nosy. However, despite his best efforts to focus, he couldn't help but sneak a quick glance at the intricate ink designs on Dabi's skin.

‘Shittt.. that’s sick.’

Y/N thought before quickly snapping out of it.

“Did you make sure your flower gets enough sunlight every day?”

“…what?”

“Your flower?? Gets sunlight?? Hello??”

“……”

Dabi slowly shifted his gaze towards Y/N, his face betraying a mixture of disbelief and surprise. His expression seemed to convey a silent question, as if wondering what on earth Y/N was even doing to this poor plant.

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“…no.”

The two stared at each other…

After a moment of silence, Y/N spoke up again. “How was I supposed to know this flower needed sunlight?”

“Google exists.”

“I’m a busy man!”

“Busy doing what? Being uneducated?”

DAMN, that hurt more that it was supposed to.

“Okay.. okay, it’s a dumb mistake on my part. Can I buy another one to try again?” Y/N puts his hands on his hips, waiting for Dabi’s answer. “Well.. I don’t have a choice I guess.” Dabi said, the sound of defeat evident in his tone. He walked away to find the same flower as Y/N stood there.

Y/N found himself strangely familiar with the odd man before him. There was something about him that he couldn't quite pinpoint, and it frustrated him. Crossing his arms in annoyance, Y/N observed Dabi carefully examining the flower selection. He realized maybe he should cut the newbie some slack since he just started working here after all.

Dabi finally located the specific flower Y/N had requested and assisted in transferring it to a fresh pot. He then helped Y/N carefully tuck the potted flower into the latter's backpack, gently securing it in place.

“Thanks, I appreciated the help.”

“Ugh, please never come back.”

Y/N snorted at that, almost unable to hold his laughter. He handed his payment to Dabi, and waved goodbye.

“Unfortunately for you, new guy, I’m a regular here!”

He said as he walked out of the store.

Dabi— no, Touya exhaled a frustrated sigh once that idiot guy was gone. He hated working at the flower shop but knew he had no choice. His current situation forced him to hide, and this job was a means to keep a low profile. He longed for a better life, but for now, he was stuck here in this cramped shop, surrounded by fragrant blooms.

Welp, that’s the life of a man on the run he supposed..

YEEEE HE HAS EDGY BACKSTORY WOAHH 🫵🫵😮😮😮😮

This chapter is just me trying to get the idea out of my head, I swear I’ll cook better in the next one ☹️☹️☹️💥💥💥💥

This was supposed to be an artwork idea but I couldn’t really draw rn

Also, mind you, I’m posting this at 3AM in my timezone, PLEASE PLEASE EXCUSE THE BADWRITIGNNFNF 😭😭😭😭

(I am ashamed of myself 😞)

[missamyrisa2]

15 questions for 15 friends:

Thanks for thinking of me for these questions, @lady-featherquill ~ this is like mmmmh a certain kind of tingle blushhh tickle for me to be called on~

Were you named after anyone?: Yess I was named after Burl Ives, but you wouldn't know it because I spell and pronounce my name differently~

When was the last time you cried?: I made the mistake of thinking about The Lion King a few hours ago~

Do you have kids?: I make kids all the time. Like crying over the lion king because I randomly was thinking about how real to life the animation was of Simba pulling on Mufasa's ear and holygodddddd he was trying to wake his dad up whyyyyyyy are animators so supremely great at heartsqueezing~~~ I'm just kidding. That was a kid.

What sports do you play/have you played?: all of them I think~ I live by the fake it until you make it mindset and I'm still figuring out the latter part of that. But I did study pickleball thoroughly under its venerable founder, The Earl of Pickle

Do you use sarcasm?: William Shakesman said that's the lowest form of brevity so I try to avoid it whenever possible, also I'm horrendously bad at it to where I sound completely sincere and this has resulted in one too many punches to the face because, surprisingly if you poorly sarcastically announce you'd really love to be just hit in the face there are a LOT of people who are all too eager to jump in~

What is the first thing you notice about people?: That they're always trying to figure out if I hate them because I had a fairly consistent RBF crossed with an inclination to be mysterious. Through online interactions I first take note of their comma frequency because that says so much about a person's Oxford-related preferences.

What's your eye color?: Blue or green or grey depending which type of light you shove in my face, followed by whatever my eyelid is because moonlight makes me squint

Scary movies or happy endings?: I like the ones where nothing is really resolved and the story just sort of stops because everyone gave up and it was probably lunchtime so f*ck it~

Any talents?: I can do a hair flip like nobody's business, which is to say no one should ever be in the business of doing such hair flips because I've knocked over more cups and hit my head on more things than anyone should do in five lifetimes.

Where were you born?: I'm fairly certain I've always been, because whenever I attempt to find the record of my birth Mr. Tumnus plays an enchanting tune and I wake up in a cold room.

What are your hobbies?: arguing on the Internet and street corners why Fullmetal Alchemist 2003 is better than Brotherhood. I took up the hobby after some guy stole my bicycle which was an outrage, but that was his hobby and he imparted the wisdom which set me on my path which is that a hobby is something that makes you completely miserable and spreads that misery onto anyone unfortunate enough to share your space.

Do you have any pets?: No, no one ever wants to pet me and it's probably because of the below answer

How tall are you?: 6'2

Favorite subject in school?: History. Not so much for the subject matter but because memorizing facts comes obscenely easy to me and I loved writing excessively lengthy essays which went nowhere and were loaded with as many funny words as I could muster like trying to relate an unrelated event to the future of filibustering.

Dream job?: Tending a lighthouse so I could make giant shadowpuppets over the water and make alligator mouths eat the ships.

Join in and pass it on if you can. Don't feel obligated!

@witchy-giggles @atomiccollectorwitch @crystalstarlight4657 @opossumgirltongue @adventuresofmelody @greenticklerdreams @juviisworld @dusktexanler @polsj103 @fuzzypilled @androgynousangeldreamland @daisylovestickles @yourgothgfswitch @magicaltickles @giggliestgirl

[cyberkitty1]

Part 2 Twin AU

inspo: @moodysunflowerbaby <3

Part 3

Mrs.Morales always thought of you as a daughter she never had. when she figured out that you hadnt come over in WEEKS she had to intervene!

“ Miles, Mylo! ven aquí necesitamos hablar” she says as she sits at the dining table crossing her arms. mylo and miles were sitting in miles room playing a game on the floor when they look up at each other giving each other a “🤨” face.

they both get up seeing her sitting on the table with a serious face. miles talks first “ yea mami?” “where has she been?” miles looks at mylo, mylo looks at miles. “¿te pedí que te sentaras frente a mí y te vieras estúpido? no tan awnser mi pregunta no me importa quién” now shes being serious serious.

mylo sighs “ we kind of had an argument and havnt talked since” he says going silent. she looks at miles “mm and you” miles rubs his neck “ i dont know i just stopped talking to her”

she looks at them absolutely dumb founded, like they morphed together and were sharing a neck. “ do you have a good reason for this because if not, será mejor que esperes que lo hagas porque si no, los estoy echando a los dos y la traerás aquí y te disculparás frente a mí”

they sit in silence “ whats your reason tell me, instead what happened the last time you guys talked” again mylo starts “ she started talking about how miles was good at science and stuff and i got mad because i felt she was comparing me to him and left” then miles starts before she can say anything

“ then she asked me why mylo was mad at her or if he was and i said i dint know just because we are brothers doesn’t mean i know whats up with him and then she asked why i was being snappy or something and i said…”

she waits “ what your mute? what did you say?” he clears his throat “ i said .. sorry im not happy my dad died”

she looked dumbfounded “ say it louder miles morales” she only says that when shes mad, this isn’t good

“ sorry im not happy my dad died” she almost had a heart attack. she made them sit in the bicycle position for an hour ( its wall squat but you don’t squat youre like sitting on the wall with your arms out ) losers

.

.

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🏷️: @soseoulol @shoyofroyoyoyo @pandoragalora @miles-42-morales @heavisdelulu @lilcassipuff @levanneisdumb @thebaddest @sussybaka10 @itsznanabanana @malllywally @ivys-graveyard @missyysyx @c4nth3lp1t @sgmianne @miles4hour @ulovejayy @onginlove @buckleyverse @lexixiii @swaqlover @yoursidehismain @florencepughswife030196 @lethycia @edgyficuselastica @druiggf @onsimpshii @lovely-horror-show @vivsamortentia @leighs-gallery @remuslupinsno1slut @steve-harringtons-bitch @shurisbbymama @bunnybabylovesstuff @karmascute @c4rine @janaeby @mookiebutt @paraccosm @zkristuz @reflectionsinrealtime @mindymeeksrules @nagi3seastorm @popeheywardssecretgf @be3_Fl0w3er @piopio @hoodypunpurri @hiyoo-o

some of y’all are spelling your users wrong, comment if u did

ALSO im going on a trip soon so ill try to work on part 3

[bargainbinwizard]

What the fuck is wrong with you Israel

I've been pretty silent on the Israel and Gaza war for a long time but it's come to a point that I needed to get magically involved. It's an ugly situation all around. Israel mass murdering Palestinians,Hamas being a thing, Antisemites coming out of the woodwork,Israel booting people from their land and people saying that Israel as a country should cease to exist...even though Jews were native to Israel (aka Canaan) but got conquered by the Babylonians and Romans in ancient times and so as a consequence, they were spread out across the globe getting shat on by everybody in history. But I can't even say that Israel is defending themselves from Hamas because they're too busy fucking around in the Gaza strip shooting down people getting flour.

I'm just going to make it very clear that just because I say that Israel as a country should exist ✨DOES NOT MEAN THAT I SUPPORT ISRAEL KILLING PEOPLE OR THEIR CRUELITY TOWARDS THE PALASTINIANS ✨. I don't want anybody popping onto my page to villainize me and putting words in my mouth. I may not have the funds to save the entirety of Gaza but that doesn't mean I haven't been donating. Also I do my Gaza/Israel reblogging on my main blog,this is just a side blog. That's why you haven't seen anything here. I don't want to hear from any of you that I'm secretly rubbing my hands evilly and cackling watching Israel bomb Rafah.

In short, fuck nazis and people who think that being an antisemite makes you a hero. Go do something useful with your time like donate to Gaza charities like a normal person, would you?

Anyway, in terms of my magical work. I've been focusing on trying to get the news channels on tv to talk about what kind of nasty shit Israel soldiers have been doing in Gaza. There's pictures and videos on the internet from the Palestinians being killed,Israel soldiers talking pictures of themselves on children's' bicycles that they've stolen,olive trees being destroyed and so on and so forth. Yet, the only thing the news wants to focus on is Hamas and making Israel looking like the good guy. If I can get get the news to talk about Israel's war crimes and the corruption in the Israel military /government with pictures then I've done my job. Well,I may need to create a peace spell to somehow make Israel and Gaza stop fighting. Not sure what spell components I need to use.

Its also pretty shitty that there are so many fundraisers to get people out from Gaza and to give people aid that I don't have the funds to save everybody,just give people a measly 20 dollars while their fundraiser goals are several thousand dollars. And if I donate to one charity, I'm not donating to the others and that means they'll have to suffer. I don't have the wallet of Mr. Beast or Bill Gates. I can't save everybody and they might die before they reach their fundraiser goals. And more fundraisers are going to pop up.

EDIT: Added some links. I made it fair by talking about both Hamas and Israel.

[darknesseddiem]

𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐳: 𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝟔𝟔

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: A fleeting glimpse into your life in Paris reveals a tapestry woven with the threads of contentment. Amidst the quaint charm of your bustling bakery, you found solace in the artistry of your craft and the warmth of the friendships you cultivated. Yet, like an unyielding specter, the echoes of your past refuse to fade into obscurity.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: +18 MDNI, mentions of sad past, descriptions of panic attack, abusive husband (not with Reader), child loss, mentions of violence, let me know if I missed one

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5,6K

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫.

As you stepped out onto the cobblestone streets of Paris, the cold morning air greeted you like an old friend, its crisp touch sending shivers down your spine. The gentle breeze danced around you, carrying with it the delicate flakes of snow that twirled and pirouetted before gently settling on the ground. Each flake seemed to have a life of its own, weaving intricate patterns as they landed, transforming the city into a winter wonderland.

The frost had painted everything in sight with its delicate touch, leaving a shimmering coat on the streets and a soft blanket on the rooftops of cars parked along the curb. The world around you was draped in white, as if nature had decided to cast a spell of serenity over the bustling city.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the faint aroma of pastries from nearby bakeries. It was a tantalizing combination that teased your senses and stirred a pang of hunger in your stomach. Regret gnawed at you for not indulging in breakfast earlier, but there was a certain magic in the air that distracted you from your hunger.

Despite the chill in the air, there was a warmth in the atmosphere that came from the cozy cafes and bistros lining the streets. The soft glow of their lights spilled out onto the snow-covered sidewalks, inviting you to step inside and escape the cold. It was a scene straight out of a postcard, a picturesque moment frozen in time.

As you hurried through the streets of Paris, the weight of responsibility hung heavy on your shoulders. It wasn't your fault that the alarm clock had betrayed you, rudely jolting you awake much later than intended. In the frantic scramble to make it to the bakery on time, breakfast had become an afterthought, sacrificed in the race against the clock.

Despite the early hour, Paris was alive with a quiet energy, as if it were slowly awakening from its slumber. The faint sound of footsteps echoed in the distance, accompanied by the occasional clang of a passing tram. It was a peaceful scene, a moment of stillness before the city burst into life with the hustle and bustle of the day.

As you continued your morning stroll through the quiet streets of Paris, the familiar sounds of bicycle bells and the whirring of wheels filled the air, signaling the arrival of the teenage boys on their delivery rounds. With deft skill, they navigated the narrow streets, balancing baskets filled with fresh milk, warm bread, and delectable cakes destined for those who had no time to prepare their own breakfast.

The sight brought a smile to your lips as you watched them zip past, their youthful energy adding a touch of vibrancy to the serene morning scene. It was a reminder of the simple joys of everyday life in Paris, where tradition and modernity seamlessly coexisted, shaping the rhythm of the city.

A few more minutes of leisurely walking brought you closer to your destination, and soon the beautiful facade of your bakery came into view, standing out amidst the row of charming buildings with its inviting allure.

As you approached your bakery, known as "The Raven's Nest," your heart swelled with pride and affection. The building stood proudly amidst the Parisian streets, a striking monument to your passion for baking and your love of the Gothic aesthetic.

The neoclassical facade had been transformed into a dramatic display of Gothic architecture, with dark gray stone walls rising high, adorned with intricate carvings of ravens and other macabre motifs. Instead of gold and silver, the decorations gleamed with accents of crimson red and midnight black, casting an aura of mystery and allure.

Gone were the delicate pink flowers; in their place were arrangements of deep red roses and black dahlias, their petals adding a touch of romanticism to the Gothic ambiance. The upstairs balconies were adorned with wrought iron railings, their designs reminiscent of Gothic cathedrals, adding to the dramatic silhouette of the building.

The large panes and windows remained, but now they were framed by heavy velvet curtains, allowing only slivers of light to filter through, adding to the mysterious atmosphere within. Outside, the blue and white striped canvas awnings had been replaced with elegant black ones, providing shade to the sidewalk and creating a sense of intimacy for customers who chose to linger outside.

As you gazed upon the transformed facade of your bakery, a sense of awe washed over you. It was more than just a place of business; it was a reflection of your personality and your deepest desires. The Raven's Nest had become a sanctuary for different people who longed for a place in the world, a place where they could indulge in decadent pastries and rich, dark coffee while surrounded by the beauty of the macabre.

You noticed a familiar figure standing patiently outside, his silhouette softened by the early morning light. Antoine, the sweet old man who had become not only a loyal customer but also a cherished friend, was already eagerly awaiting the opening of the bakery.

Your heart swelled with gratitude as you recalled the countless acts of kindness Antoine had bestowed upon you since the day you arrived in Paris, a stranger in a foreign city. It was he who had taken you under his wing, offering you shelter, sustenance, and employment at the factory he managed, when you had nowhere else to turn. His generosity and unwavering support had provided you with the stability and encouragement you needed to pursue your dream of owning a bakery.

From the humble beginnings of selling homemade pastries from your tiny apartment to the triumphant moment of purchasing the building that now housed The Raven's Nest, Antoine had been there every step of the way, cheering you on with his gentle smile and wise words of encouragement.

But it was not just his material support that had made Antoine invaluable to you; it was his unwavering belief in your abilities and his boundless faith in your dreams that had truly touched your heart. He had seen potential in you when you could barely see it in yourself, and his steadfast presence had been a guiding light through the darkest of times.

With a soft smile gracing your lips, you approached Antoine, the jangle of your keys punctuating the quiet morning air. His presence, steadfast and comforting, never failed to bring a sense of warmth to your heart.

"I hope you didn't wait too long for me," you greeted him, the concern evident in your voice.

Antoine turned towards you, his eyes twinkling with affection as his mustache arched gracefully with his smile. "My dear, the anticipation only makes the coffee taste sweeter," he replied, his voice carrying the gentle lilt of a cherished friend.

His words were like a balm to your soul, soothing the frayed edges of your nerves. With a grateful nod, you took a moment to admire the way the morning light filtered through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns across the polished wooden floors.

"Lucky for you, you won't have to wait a whole day," you remarked playfully, gesturing towards the inviting doors. With practiced ease, you slipped into your apron, the familiar weight grounding you in the rhythm of the day.

As you set about your tasks, Antoine settled into his favorite corner, the morning newspaper cradled in his hands like an old friend. His presence brought a sense of calm to the bustling kitchen, his unwavering support a beacon of reassurance in the midst of the morning rush.

"Do you need help, ma chérie?" he offered, his tone filled with genuine concern.

You shook your head with a grateful smile, the warmth of his fatherly concern washing over you like a comforting embrace. "Not today, Monsieur," you reassured him, the sound of your voice mingling with the soft hum of the kitchen appliances. "But your coffee will be ready in just a moment."

With a contented nod, Antoine returned his attention to the newspaper, his weathered hands turning the pages with practiced ease. And as you worked side by side, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the scent of baking pastries, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the friendship you shared with Antoine, a friendship built on kindness, mutual respect, and the simple joy of sharing a quiet moment in the heart of your treasure.

The morning light filtered through the windows as the sound of footsteps echoed through the shop, signaling the arrival of your employees and co-workers. Among them, Florence was always the first to arrive, her punctuality a testament to her dedication and reliability.

With a warm smile, you greeted Florence as she entered, her presence bringing a sense of cheer to the bustling shop. Antoine, ever the gentleman, rose from his seat and removed his gray beret, a gesture of respect for the sweet woman who had captured his heart from the moment he met her.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Antoine! Good morning, Mon Cher!" Florence exclaimed sweetly, her eyes sparkling with warmth as she addressed both of you.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle! And I've already said you can call me Antoine," he replied with a gentle smile, his voice filled with affection.

You watched the interaction with a fond smile, knowing well the bond that had formed between Antoine and Florence. Theirs was a connection that went beyond mere friendship, a deep and abiding affection that was evident to anyone who spent even a moment in their company.

As Antoine returned to his seat, a soft blush coloring his cheeks, you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness for the two of them. They were, without a doubt, the sweetest and kindest people you had ever known, and they deserved every ounce of happiness that life had to offer.

Encouraging their budding romance had been an easy decision for you. After all they had been through, the trials and tribulations they had faced with unwavering grace and resilience, it was only fitting that they find solace and joy in each other's company.

As Florence turned towards the kitchen, her eyes caught sight of you standing there, quietly observing the exchange between Antoine and herself. A warm smile graced her lips, and she made her way over to you, her steps light and graceful. It was part of her daily routine, her motherly affection spilling over to envelop everyone in her path.

With a gentle embrace, she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close in her comforting hug. It was a gesture you had come to cherish, a moment of solace in the midst of the bustling bakery.

"Did you have a good night?" she inquired, her voice soft and caring. "The cold increased a little during midnight, did you remember to stay warm and cozy?"

You nodded, leaning into her touch as she stroked your hair with gentle affection. "Yeah, I was so tired that I barely noticed the cold," you replied honestly. "It was a surprise when I woke up this morning and saw all that snow."

As the two of you parted from the hug, you busied yourself with pouring Antoine's coffee, the rich aroma filling the air with warmth and comfort.

"Don’t even get me started," Florence chimed in, a playful twinkle in her eye. "I almost didn’t want to get out of bed today. You know how I love this cold weather. It’s perfect for staying at home, watching some movies while drinking hot chocolate and baking cinnamon rolls."

You couldn't help but smile at her words, the image of cozy winter days filling your mind with a sense of nostalgia and longing. Florence had a way of warming your heart with just a few simple words, her kindness and compassion shining through even on the coldest of days.

As you looked into her eyes, filled with that unique and kind essence that only she possessed, you felt a surge of gratitude wash over you. Despite everything life had thrown her way, Florence remained a beacon of light and love, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still beauty and goodness to be found.

The coffee machine chimed merrily, its cheerful melody cutting through the serene atmosphere of the bakery kitchen like a symphony conductor signaling the start of a grand performance. You turned your attention from the conversation to the machine, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you attended to its beckoning call.

"When you say ‘movies,’ you mean watching Twilight, don’t you? Everyone knows it’s kind of a rule to watch all the movies when the mood gets like this," you quipped, your tone light and playful, the sparkle in your eyes reflecting the mischief dancing within.

Florence's laughter bubbled forth like a brook in springtime, filling the air with the sweet melody of her amusement. With a twinkle in her eye, she responded, "I’m talking about the classics: Ghost, Titanic, Pretty Woman… Not these vampire films that don’t have even a third of the romance they have."

The banter between you and Florence flowed effortlessly, a playful exchange of wit and humor that added a touch of levity to the morning routine. It was a dance you had perfected over countless mornings, each step choreographed with familiarity and ease.

As you poured the steaming coffee into Antoine's mug, you marveled at the unique blend of flavors that defined his morning ritual. With a spoonful of rum and a hint of vanilla essence, it was a concoction that defied convention yet somehow managed to tantalize the taste buds with its decadent allure.

"How dare you!" you laughed, shaking your head in mock indignation as you handed the steaming cup of coffee to Antoine. “Just know that Edward Cullen is a romantic.”

“I’m sure Edward Cullen has his own charm, but not as romantic as my old friend, Frank Sinatra,” Antoine interjected with a grin, his eyes twinkling with the memories of days gone by.

And then, with a flourish, he began to sing, his voice carrying the weight of years of experience and wisdom. The lyrics of a timeless love song spilled forth from his lips, each word dripping with emotion and longing.

"Keep that breathless charm, won't you please arrange it? 'Cause I love you," he sang, his voice a rich tapestry of passion and sentiment.

You watched in awe as Antoine's serenade filled the kitchen, infusing the space with a sense of timeless romance.

As the conversation about Frank Sinatra's timeless romance and Edward Cullen's brooding charm reached its peak, the familiar jingle of the bakery door announced the arrival of another member of your close-knit team.

Steve Harrington, your best friend and manager, sauntered into the bakery with his characteristic flair, his brown locks impeccably styled with a generous amount of hairspray. Dressed in a polo shirt and light wash mom jeans, he exuded effortless charm and confidence, a fact that was not lost on anyone who crossed paths with him.

"Good morning, Antoine, good morning Florence, and good morning, my sweetie," Steve greeted with his usual charm, his words accompanied by a playful wink that earned him an eye-roll from you.

As Florence enveloped Steve in her warm embrace, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy at the easy affection between them. Steve had always been like a son to Florence, receiving the love and care that he had been deprived of from his own parents, who only seemed to remember his existence when they needed something from him or when they were in the midst of a fight.

"How was your night? Did you remember to turn on the heater? You know you get colds easily, and yesterday it was intensely cold," She asked, her concern genuine as the boy leaned into Florence's embrace.

"As soon as I saw the snow starting to fall, I turned it on," Steve reassured her, his voice warm with affection. "Robin, on the other hand, asked me to let you know that she’s not coming today. She caught a cold and is in bed."

A furrow of worry creased Florence's brow at the news, her maternal instincts kicking in immediately. "Oh, I’ll make some soup and bring it to her for lunch," she declared, her voice laced with concern.

"With this cold, we shouldn’t have that much movement, so it’s okay," you added, a reassuring smile on your lips.

But your optimism was short-lived. As the morning wore on, the bakery began to fill with customers seeking refuge from the biting cold outside. The scent of freshly baked pastries and steaming cups of coffee filled the air, drawing people in like moths to a flame.

The aroma of freshly baked croissants and brioches wafted through the air, weaving its irresistible spell over the bustling bakery. The streets of Paris hummed with the energy of the tourist season, drawing visitors from far and wide to the charming little establishment nestled on Saint-Dominique street. To them, it was more than just a bakery—it was a sanctuary of indulgence, a haven where the simple act of savoring a pastry felt like a glimpse of heaven.

Amidst the lively chatter of patrons and the tinkling of cutlery, you found yourself lost in the rhythm of your work. With practiced hands, you kneaded the dough for more delicious crepes, the anticipation of creating something truly exquisite fueling your movements.

Around you, the tables were filled with eager customers, their faces alight with excitement as they savored each delectable bite. Children jostled each other in their eagerness to catch a glimpse through the glass window that separated the kitchen from the main dining area. To them, the sight of the bustling kitchen was nothing short of magical—a glimpse behind the curtain into a world where dreams were made of sugar and flour.

As you worked, you couldn't help but admire the scene before you—the laughter of families, the animated conversations of friends, the quiet moments of solitude punctuated by the simple pleasure of a warm cup of coffee and a freshly baked treat. It was a tableau of life in all its vibrant hues, a reminder of the joy that could be found in the simplest of moments.

And as you glanced out at the sea of smiling faces, you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride in your heart. For in this little bakery on Saint-Dominique, amidst the hustle and bustle of the city, you had created more than just a place to enjoy a pastry—you had created a haven, a sanctuary of sweetness and light where every bite carried with it a taste of pure joy.

As the bakers worked their magic in the kitchen, their antics and playful banter added an extra layer of entertainment to the bustling atmosphere of the bakery. With flour-dusted aprons and mischievous grins, they teased the audience with little tricks and pirouettes, their movements fluid and graceful, bringing a radiant sparkle to the eyes of those present.

Customers chuckled and applauded as the bakers showcased their skills, their laughter mingling with the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked pastries. It was a scene straight out of a charming French film, where the everyday hustle and bustle of a bakery transformed into a spectacle of joy and delight.

Amidst the lively atmosphere, you couldn't help but notice a group of people dressed in expensive suits and fedora hats sitting in the corner of the bakery. Their sharp attire stood out against the backdrop of casual elegance, and their demeanor hinted at an air of mystery and intrigue.

Curiosity piqued, you observed them discreetly as you went about serving other customers. Their eyes darted around the bakery, scanning the room with a sense of purpose as if they were searching for someone or something. There was an aura of secrecy about them, a silent tension that hung in the air like a veil.

Intrigued by their presence, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this group than met the eye. With a sense of caution tinged with curiosity, you made a mental note to keep an eye on them as the morning unfolded, wondering what secrets they might hold and what role they might play in the bustling drama of the bakery.

As you replaced the macarons in the display case, your mind couldn't shake off the presence of those mysterious customers in the corner of the bakery. With a sense of unease gnawing at your insides, you decided to seek out Steve for answers.

"Hey Steve, have you seen those people around here?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual as you glanced over at the group in question.

Steve glanced in their direction, his brow furrowing in thought. "Uh, I’m not sure… Maybe they’re the buyers from the building across the street," he suggested with a shrug, his attention quickly diverted by a customer approaching the counter.

As you continued your conversation with Steve, you felt a sudden chill run down your spine. Instinctively, you looked back at the mysterious group, only to find one of the men locking eyes with you. His gaze felt like a weight upon your soul, sending shivers down your spine.

Before you could react, the man said something to the others at the table, who turned to look at you with a strange intensity. Their eyes bore into yours, and for a brief moment, you felt a sense of recognition wash over you. It was as if you knew them from somewhere, but the memory remained elusive, just beyond the reach of your consciousness.

A wave of unease washed over you, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. Sensing the danger, you quickly excused yourself from the conversation with Steve and retreated to the back of the bakery, seeking solace in the familiar surroundings as you tried to compose yourself.

But the feeling of dread lingered, like a shadow cast across your thoughts. Something told you that those people were not who they appeared to be, and that their presence spelled trouble. And as you struggled to calm your racing heart, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were about to be drawn into something far more sinister than a simple bakery business.

As you retreated to the safety of the storeroom, your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears like a drum of warning. Leaning against the sturdy wooden door, you felt the cool surface against your back, grounding you in the present moment.

Your entire body trembled with fear, and cold sweat dampened your brow as you struggled to regain control of your racing thoughts. Behind closed eyelids, flashes of your painful past danced like ghosts, haunting you with memories you had long tried to bury. Tears welled up, tracing silent paths down your cheeks and onto your collar, a silent testament to the turmoil raging within.

"Pull yourself together, they're just customers, you're safe," you whispered to yourself, the words a mantra of reassurance that fell on deaf ears. The fear gripped you like a vice, squeezing the air from your lungs and leaving you gasping for breath.

With trembling hands, you took a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down. You couldn't afford to let your fear consume you, not now, not when there were customers to attend to and a bakery to run. Steeling yourself, you pushed away from the door and opened your eyes, determined to face whatever awaited you on the other side.

To your surprise, you found Florence standing there, her expression a mix of concern and compassion. She must have sensed your distress and followed you to the storeroom, her motherly instincts kicking in to offer comfort and support.

Without a word, she reached out and enveloped you in a warm embrace, holding you close as if to shield you from the storm raging outside. In her arms, you found solace, a sanctuary from the chaos and uncertainty that threatened to overwhelm you.

And as you buried your face in her shoulder, allowing yourself to be held by the warmth of her embrace, you felt a glimmer of hope ignite within you. With Florence by your side, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, with courage and resilience.

For in the safety of her arms, you found not only comfort but also strength—a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was always light to be found in the embrace of those who cared for you.

"Oh Mon Cher, you’re so pale, I saw you running here and I was scared thinking something had happened," Florence murmured, her voice laced with concern as she held you tightly in her arms.

Florence was more than just a coworker or a friend—she was a pillar of strength, a survivor who had endured unimaginable hardships and emerged stronger than ever. Divorced from her abusive husband after years of suffering in silence, she had found refuge and purpose within the walls of Raven's Nest.

It had been a desperate plea for a job that had brought her to your doorstep, her eyes filled with determination and resilience even in the face of adversity. She had begged for the opportunity to work, even if it meant starting from the bottom and cleaning the bathrooms.

You had taken her in without hesitation, recognizing the fire that burned within her despite the scars of her past. And as she poured her heart and soul into her work, you had watched in awe as she blossomed before your eyes, her spirit unbroken despite the trials she had endured.

But behind her warm smile and gentle demeanor lay a pain that ran deep, a wound that refused to heal. It was a pain born from the loss of her son, a sweet angel whose life had been cut short by the senseless violence of his own father.

The memory of that tragic night haunted Florence like a specter, its ghostly presence a constant reminder of the fragility of life and the cruelty of fate. She had fought tooth and nail to protect her son, but in the end, she had been powerless to save him from the hands of the man who was supposed to love and cherish them both.

As Florence held you in her arms, her embrace a lifeline in the midst of the storm, you couldn't help but feel a surge of compassion for the woman who had endured so much loss and pain. And as you stood together in the quiet sanctuary of the storeroom, surrounded by the comforting scent of flour and sugar, you knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand, drawing strength from each other's love and resilience.

“I just… I think I've been working too much, Florence. Don’t worry, I'm fine," you murmured, seeking solace in her comforting presence.

Florence's warm embrace enveloped you like a protective shield, her maternal instincts kicking in as she held you close. "You know you can count on me for anything, right? Take good care of yourself, my girl," she whispered, her words a gentle reminder of the unwavering support and love she offered freely to all who crossed her path.

With a grateful smile, you leaned into her embrace, finding solace in the familiar comfort of her arms. In that fleeting moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of peace and belonging that only Florence could provide.

But as quickly as the moment had come, it passed, and you reluctantly pulled away, knowing that there was work to be done and customers to attend to. With a shared glance, you and Florence returned to your respective tasks, diving back into the whirlwind of activity that filled the bakery.

Throughout the day, the bakery buzzed with a vibrant energy, the air alive with laughter and conversation. Children darted about excitedly, their faces lighting up with joy at the sight of the delectable treats on display. Tourists ventured inside, their broken French mingling with the melodic tones of the locals as they placed their orders with eager anticipation.

Meanwhile, the pastry chefs worked tirelessly behind the scenes, their hands moving with practiced precision as they crafted each confection with love and care.

The weight of the day's events hung heavy on your shoulders as you made your way home through the bustling streets of Paris. Despite the comforting glow of the streetlights and the steady stream of people passing by, a sense of unease gnawed at the edges of your consciousness.

With each glance over your shoulder, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, as if unseen eyes followed your every move. You quickened your pace, the click-clack of your shoes against the pavement echoing in the night air as you navigated the labyrinthine streets of the city.

Finally, you reached the safety of your home, the familiar sight of your doorstep a welcome relief. Fumbling for your keys, you hurriedly unlocked the door, the sound of the lock clicking into place a comforting reassurance of security.

Stepping inside, you felt the tension drain from your body as you closed the door behind you. The familiar warmth and coziness of your home enveloped you like a soft blanket, easing the knots of anxiety that had formed in your stomach.

With a sigh of relief, you set about your evening routine, the familiar rituals serving as a soothing balm for your frazzled nerves. Dinner was a simple affair, hastily prepared but satisfying nonetheless. You fed Edward, your faithful feline companion, his soft purrs a comforting backdrop to the quiet of the evening.

After dinner, you indulged in a long, relaxing bath, the warm water washing away the cares of the day and leaving you feeling rejuvenated and refreshed. As you soaked in the tub, the tension slowly melted away, replaced by a sense of calm and tranquility.

After drying off and slipping into your pajamas—a worn blouse, a pair of soft panties, and cozy socks—you settled into bed, the soft embrace of the blankets cocooning you in warmth. With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes, letting the gentle rhythm of your breath lull you into a peaceful slumber, knowing that tomorrow was a new day, filled with endless possibilities.

As you prepared to settle into bed for the night, a familiar sense of unease washed over you, creeping like tendrils of fog into the corners of your mind. The sensation of danger prickled at your senses, setting your nerves on edge and sending a shiver down your spine.

Despite the comforting warmth of your cozy bedroom, a chill settled over you, wrapping you in its icy embrace. Your heart quickened its pace, pounding against your chest like a frantic drumbeat as adrenaline surged through your veins.

With a trembling hand, you reached for the bedside lamp, casting a soft glow across the room as you scanned the shadows for any sign of threat. But the darkness offered no answers, only deepening the sense of foreboding that hung heavy in the air.

Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the curtains seemed to echo with the ominous whisper of danger. Your breath caught in your throat, shallow and ragged as you struggled to calm the rising tide of panic within you.

You knew you should call the police, seek help, but fear held you captive, rendering you powerless to move. The weight of uncertainty pressed down upon you, suffocating and oppressive.

With a heavy heart and trembling limbs, you braced yourself for whatever darkness the night might bring, clinging to the flickering flame of hope that whispered softly in the recesses of your mind.

As you stood frozen in fear, your mind raced with a million thoughts, each one more terrifying than the last. The sensation of danger loomed over you like a dark cloud, suffocating you with its oppressive weight.

Chills ran down your spine, sending shivers through your body as if you were caught in the grip of an icy vice. Your blood felt like it was freezing and burning simultaneously, a tumultuous storm raging within you.

Nervousness and anxiety consumed you, gnawing at your insides with relentless intensity. Every fiber of your being screamed for action, for escape, but your body remained paralyzed, held captive by fear's icy grip.

A knock on the door shattered the suffocating silence, jolting you out of your trance-like state. With trembling limbs, you made your way downstairs, each step feeling like an eternity as dread gnawed at your soul.

Approaching the peephole with hesitant fingers, you braced yourself for what lay beyond. And as you peered through the small opening, your heart plummeted into the depths of despair.

There, standing before you, was a man in a suit, his features obscured by the dim light of the night. But even in the darkness, you recognized him, his presence igniting a primal fear deep within you.

"It can't be..." you whispered to yourself, your voice barely above a breath.

Summoning every ounce of courage you had left, you slowly opened the door, your hands trembling with fear. And as you looked into the man's eyes, all the blood drained from your face, leaving you pale and trembling.

"Hello, Sunny. Did you miss me?" His voice sent shivers down your spine, a sinister whisper that echoed in the depths of your soul.

Everything had been perfect that day, until it wasn't anymore. And now, faced with the embodiment of your darkest nightmares, you knew that the horrors of the past had come back to haunt you once again.

[scotianostra]

On June 17th 1823 Charles Macintosh patented the waterproof cloth he was using to make raincoats.

Mackintosh rubberized coats were not immediately successful. Although they were waterproof, they had a strong smell which most wearers found unpleasant. It was not until a fellow chemist, Thomas Hancock, invented a process involving vulcanized rubber that the problem was solved. Hancock became a partner in Macintosh’s business in 1834. This marked the real start of the iconic Mackintosh brand.

In 1824 an Arctic exploration team trialled rubber coated waterproof canvas bags, air-beds and pillows made by the Macintosh patented process. In 1841 the British army ordered waterproof clothing for all its troops. The rubberized coats and capes were functional and hard wearing and they soon became standard army issue.

After the death of Charles Macintosh in 1843, the company had a period of decline. But in 1851 the Mackintosh coat was shown at The Grand Exhibition at Crystal Palace, London. And the rest is history.

Of course just because you patent something it does not mean you actually were the first to invent it, controversy has followed the invention of the telephone since Alexander Graham Bell patented it, other inventions were questioned, the tyre, the television and the bicycle, all connected to Scotland and all have earlier versions that were thought of, or made beforehand, the “Mac” is no different.

James Syme, a surgeon and chemist based in Edinburgh, had discovered a derivative of coal tar (naphtha) could dissolve rubber and published his findings in Thomson's Annals of Philosophy five years before Macintosh came up with his idea.

It was the same process used by Macintosh following his own chemistry experiments with waste from Glasgow’s coal-gas works, and it has been claimed that the inventor had read Syme’s work before developing it for his own uses.

While Syme, uninterested in commercial matters, failed to patent his valuable discovery and continued to build a noteworthy career in surgery, Macintosh stamped his name on the idea in 1823, had Syme done so you might be calling the coats Symes.....it doesn’t have the same ring does it? Syme’s paper had not detailed the crucial sandwich-type construction employed by Macintosh, although this too was not completely new.

Spanish scientists previously used the method to make leak-proof containers for mercury, and renowned British balloonist Charles Green made a balloon envelope that applied the same principle in 1821.

French scientists also made balloons gas-tight and impermeable by impregnating fabric with rubber dissolved in turpentine and the use of rubber to waterproof fabric dates back to the Aztecs, who used natural latex.

But what made Macintosh’s invention revolutionary was its ease of manufacture and wear, seeing him swiftly launching into the production of cloth to be converted into coats and other garments by tailors in Glasgow.

Some of you might have picked up on the different spelling of the names in the first two paragraphs? Others will now be scrolling back to see what I mean! Well when As news of his invention spread, the repeated misspelling of the inventor’s name is thought to have popularised the description of the resulting coat as a “Mackintosh” – a name that has stuck to the present day.

Macintosh was elected as a fellow of the Royal Society for his contributions to chemistry and enjoyed considerable success before his death in 1843, aged 76.

First sold in 1824, his coat remains on the market in numerous forms across the world, it is now primarily a luxury brand still bearing its inventor’s name, even though it is spelled wrong!

[short-black-diamond]

I'm sorry could I ask for a tonny x reader where they basically just.act like an old married couple because tonny's a literal peepaw..

PEE-

PEEPAW

OH MY GOD

not you already calling him peepaw bro.

Anyways-

Not me having to look up what old married couples do☠

---

Tonny and you acting like an old married couple :]

Since the circus was running on a vehicle, you guys travelled a lot

like, a lot lot

so, you learned many new languages or the basics of them to communicate with the people

as you guys travelled pretty much around the globe, it was still fascinating to see what each new generation was able to create

from bicycles to motorbikes to real cars and also trams...

you bought some jewellr- ok no, Anthonn bought you some jewellry

Tonny purchased a camera

and let me tell you, he took more pictures of you than any other place

what can he say? You're the center of his universe

and that being said, Tonny likes to go with the flow, while you like to do it in the traditional way

you paint

and while he was busy photographing you, you were drawing him

(I think I spelled this wrong⤴)

it was also on those nice and warm summer places, where you guys were on a field, and just...enjoyed everything

away from the drawing, and forward to the culinaries!

with each country and new formed/founded city, you guys were always amazed by all the new food that you got to taste wherever you guys were

to the normal mortals, you guys looked like teenagers who were on a date

but well, since Tonny was a PEEPAW and you were a granny, you guys took your time enjoying things in blissfull slowlyness

whenever you guys would eat breakfast other than the circus, the 'adults' would scold you for coming late to school

you and Tonny had to stifle your laughter one too many times

with each new recipe which you and Tonny would try to replicate in the circus' kitchen, a new memory got made

you were actually surprised that you, nor Tonny or anybody else got Alzheimer's yet

it was truly amazing

you guys also like to go on walks????

why didn't I think of this sooner???

like, just hand in hand, relishing the moment of nature, or watching the real teens run around

poking at each other when you guys saw some fresh couples act shy around each other, reminding you of your earlier days

ah yes, wonderful memories

but you had pity with the children

you had all the time in the world while theirs ended by the drop of a needle

but, you did your best to give them as much advice as possible, even when you got weird looks from them

Tonny frowned sadly upon you consoling a heartbroken girl, a poor man, a child that lost its parents...

he also felt like it wasn't fair

I mean, you guys could live forever in fun and party and doing some acrobatic tricks-

no, he didn't want to think about it

(and i don't want to make this any more angsty)

back to the now, where you and Tonny look at some of the pictures you guys took!

and you were laughing again, something Anthonn cherished very much

"Remember when you fell from the well? Gosh, you were soaked with turf water!"

"...yea...", cue to him looking at you lovingly while you cracked up like a hyena-

and you guys give each other new types of flowers???

everywhere you guys go, and you see a flower shop, it turns into a competition of who can gist the other one a new species of flowers

it's still a draw, after all these decades/or centuries?

(what do old people do else besides that?)

---

Alrighty, let's stop here! I really have no idea what old couples do, cuz all i see them do is go to cafés and walk around?, nothing more.

Anyways, I hope you liked it!

Read you guys in my next post!

[pastriibunz]

hi sorry concussion? you okay?

yeha!! so theater freshmen were dicking around and they knocked over a folded up folding screen onto the back of my head. the plastic part hit me right behind my ear and i got a concussion. ive been getting headaches, major fatigue and exhaustion, i can't focus at all (its like if i didn't take my add meds), i've been stuttering and having a hard time saying completely coherent sentences (i got marked down as having "episodic confusion"), i'm having a hard time spelling (i spelt bicycle as "bycicle") and theres a few gaps in my memory from right before i got hit and right after. I went to urgent care and the ER yesterday and they said i should be fine!!

[an-spideog]

hey is míse arís (at least i tried to use emphatic pronouns...)

so i heard and read about béarlachas. as far as i get its something like anglicisms? english words but pronounced as irish? i find it a little similar to surzhyk, ukrainian + russian language. people who don't know ukrainian good enough, sometimes use russian words with ukrainian spelling etc

is there a way/place/option/sth to check and avoid béarlachas? some sort of dictionary? webpage? anything? i really want to learn irish words, not english again :')

thank you very very much! h and also your explanation ab emphatic pronouns was very good, alth im still trying to get it better

So there's two different things that people use "béarlachas" to describe

Borrowed words from English i.e. "badhscal" (bicycle) or "bricfeasta" (breakfast)

The use of English structure and idiom (like phrases) in place of Irish ones

I would use it to describe number 2, in my opinion borrowing words is a very normal thing for a language to do - see "cliché, déjà vu, café" in English. Telling someone to say "rothar" instead of "badhsacal" is like telling them to say "coffee shop" instead of "café". It's also worth noting that a lot of these borrowed words tend to be very common among native speakers and learners are the ones who reject them. Sometimes you even see learners rejecting very long-standing Irish words because they seem like English words (carr does not come from English 'car').*

With regards to structure and idiom, I would describe it as béarlachas when people use direct translations of English phrases into Irish without regard for the way that Irish would express the idea. For example if you were to say "I don't get it" in English, that could mean "I don't understand", but if you literally translate that into Irish as "Ní fhaighim é" it doesn't make any sense. In Irish you'd just say "Ní thuigim".

This is something learners do all the time because we don't think about the idioms within our native language. Saying "Back off!" makes sense in English, but if you translate that as "Ar ais as!" that doesn't make any kind of grammatical sense, you have to look at what the phrase as a whole means.

English has also influenced Irish as a language more broadly though so there are many idioms which have become commonplace in Irish because of English.

So if you're trying to avoid béarlachas, I'd recommend just reading and listening to lots of Irish so that you know what people tend to say. If you're trying to translate a phrase, remember to read the examples on something like focloir.ie rather than just translating word by word.

*often these borrowed words become common because native speakers borrow them and use them immediately when they start needing to talk about something i.e. buying a bicycle. And then it's only later that an "official" translation comes out. See also 'radio' vs raidió. Other times words are borrowed with less necessity, for example 'alright' is very common in native Irish. e.g. An bhfuil tú alright?

[handeaux]

When Horseshoers Convened In Cincinnati, Few Foresaw Their Looming Doom

With all the talk these days about artificial intelligence and its anticipated devastation of employment as we know it, let’s peer into some balmier times and the technological disruptions inflicted on past trades, specifically horseshoeing.

Up until about World War I, unless you traveled by railroad or electric streetcar, you needed a horse to get around, and horses needed regular horseshoeing. Especially in urban environments with cobblestone or crushed-gravel pavement, horses might need new shoes every 10 days or so.

Horseshoeing was a lucrative trade, and it was unionized. In fact, there were two horseshoeing unions, one for the journeymen and one for their bosses. The Master Horseshoers’ Protective Association met in Cincinnati for a national convention in 1898. They were very concerned about a new mode of transportation that threatened their livelihoods – the bicycle. It is impossible to exaggerate the bicycle’s explosion in popularity during 1896. Two years later, the horseshoers were still feeling the pinch and hoping bicycles were nothing but a passing trend. The Cincinnati Post [18 October 1898] reported the view of one convention delegate:

“H.E. Richards, representing the Ausable Horse-Nail Company, New York, gives it as his opinion that the bicycle is only a fad, that is dying out. He declares that in the midst of the craze the business of his company fell off. Now, he says, it is picking up. The wheel, he says, is passing, and the horse is the thing again.”

Mr. Richards was not alone in his over-optimistic prognostications. As late as 1920, when automobiles had all but monopolized the city’s streets, the Cincinnati Enquirer [6 April 1920] saw hope for the horse.

“The horse is coming back in a last struggle to hold his place against the progress of the automobile, tractor, truck and airplane. The Department of Agriculture estimates that horses on United States farms increased from 19,833,000 in 1910 to 21,109,000 on January 1, 1920. Mules increased, too, according to the estimates.”

That year, the Journeyman Horseshoes held their national conference in Cincinnati and desperation seethed through the delegates. According to one, quoted in the Post [19 July 1920] automobilists and their ilk were antagonizing The Almighty himself:

“Bernard Flatley, president, said horseshoers had made little progress until the war showed them their importance in industry. He urged more publicity for the horse. ‘Man is flying in the face of God,’ he said. ‘The horse is a creation of God and should not be relegated to the side of the road to make place for the inventions of man.’”

A person today, looking at old photographs and rare antique films might be forgiven for thinking the automobile had completely obliterated the horse by the early 1920s. Not so. At the beginning of the Great Depression, the Cincinnati Post [5 April 1932] profiled two Cincinnati businesses still dependent on horseshoes. J.D. Antill ran a livery at 1118 Clay Street in Over-the-Rhine. His stable boarded 12 horses at that time, but many of his stalls were vacant and cobwebbed. Most of his customers were peddlers. Although Antill recalled bygone days when every Sunday was busy with young men renting buggies to take their ladies for country drives, his lone remaining rig sat dusty and unused. Henry Imholt pounded out iron horseshoes at 1108 Broadway in Pendleton. When there weren’t enough horses to shoe, the Imholt smithy got by forging ice tongs – just as electric refrigerators were beginning to spell the end of the iceman’s visits.

That year, Cincinnati membership in the Journeyman Horseshoers dropped to fewer than two dozen from a peak of more than 160 card-carrying members in decades previous. The Master Horseshoers’ Protective Association had long since disbanded. Still, diehards insisted automobiles were on the way out. Charles Selzer was chief horseshoer at the French Bauer dairy. He told the Cincinnati Post [3 April 1929] that the day of reckoning approached when mankind would abandon the frivolous automobile.

“‘It will come a time,’ he explains, ‘when big business will not have so much money. They will have to save. Auto trucks cost money. So big business will go back to drays which don’t cost so much. Then it will happen, also, that the workingman will get smaller pay, and he will be glad to own a horse and rig instead of an auto. He will like it, too – you will see. There is no sport in driving a car.’”

In 1929, all the milkmen employed by French Bauer delivered their dairy products by horse-drawn cart. Charles Selzer managed the in-house smithy for the firm at Seventh and Smith streets out in the West End.

Alas, Mr. Selzer never lived to see the automobile get its comeuppance. In fact (forgive the spoiler), quite the opposite occurred. In 1956, the Cincinnati Post returned to French Bauer to talk with the last remaining horseshoer on the payroll. His name was Henry Luehrmann. He was 64 years old and he no longer shoed horses. French Bauer had abandoned horse-drawn carts in 1946 and Mr. Luehrmann was transferred to the refrigeration department. Even though he hadn’t shoed a horse in a decade, Mr. Luehrmann remained secretary of Local 12 of the Horseshoers’ Union, a group that had not met in a decade and existed only as a listing in Cincinnati’s AFL Union Directory.

When the horseshoers’ union disbanded in 1946, there were only 10 members. In 1956, Mr. Luehrmann could think of only two remaining card-carriers, John McGinnis in Maderia and N.C. Jackson in Highland Heights, Kentucky. Both still shoed actual horses. Mr. Luehrmann had long since transferred to the Milk and Ice Cream Drivers and Dairy Employees Union, which generously allowed him to keep his seniority.

“Cabinets are easier to work with than horses,” he told the Post. “They don’t kick. But horses are more interesting. As a trade, horseshoeing was one of the best. Most of us worked steady and the pay was good.”

Back in 1898, the Master Horseshoers took the trolley out to Chester Park and posed for pictures on the steps of St. Peter Cathedral. They also argued about whether their standard fees for shoeing city horses were just good business practice or a monopolistic restraint of trade. Times were good, even though the handwriting was on the wall.

[missedstations]

“Stay Safe” - Luther Hughes

The dog outside won't stop swallowing the city with its harping. Sooner or later some good citizen will peek through their blinds asking themselves about the fuss, wanting to know what cruel somebody abandoned such loyalty—some Golden Retriever, some snip-tailed Rottweiler, who knows. Next to me, he is asleep, the one I love, the one who promised me a dog in the long seasons to come. He says when the sun is at its most weary, when the sky collapses into the Cascades, when the wounds of autumn vanish into miles of snowy flesh, then. The truth is, who knows what will happen to either of us. We are always one bullet away from the graveyard, a murder of memorial hymns. And if that's the room we've been born into, why do sparrows break the morning with song? Why do fir trees fight bark and root for their green? Sometimes I hear the Earth's sunken voice saying, Come home, come home. And who am I to argue with the one who has given us so much? But dear eager Earth, I want him to live forever. I want the dog outside to have met my dead dog. I hardly think of him, of how our neighbors shouted at us to shut him up. One day they did it for us, poured searing water onto his body. The grass around him became shredded hairs. The flies fevered and worried. I watched what happened to an animal unwelcomed, underserved. When I tell him this as he armors himself for the day, he says that will never happen again. Oh, to be as certain as wind! Not true, I want to say, but I can't have everything. I can't have the yellow from the small patch of dandelions, can't have the echo of laughter rolling over rooftops, over the hush of engines and bicycle bells, can't bring the dead back to life. We won't live forever, but I am afraid some wrong citizen will mistake him for a scar on the neighborhood—they will take him from me. I settle with a covering spell: Stay safe. He walks out the door and into a spray of sirens.

[montied]

It is extremely disappointing that tumblr does not allow images on anon. Which means, you'll have to work a little bit to get the hints. But like this you can see how many images it takes you until you got it!

Who am I?

https://images.doctorwhonews.net/image.php?pid=18115

https://i.pinimg.com/originals/83/d8/4c/83d84c21b8751acc156009ee09b99429.jpg

(I am imagining the two above images staring at each other. That's not part of the hint, though, both are separate hints)

https://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1M4h1qq6CkQ/SWy_bXUnPuI/AAAAAAAADsI/k-WQPjCYDHU/w1200-h630-p-k-no-nu/bike+on+rail.bmp

(Did you know that was a thing? I did not. But I think it's awesome, so it'll do as a hint)

https://images.wisegeek.com/quill-ink-pot-and-poetry-book.jpg

https://64.media.tumblr.com/8ea1040b3248a7c2c0b54e9fc5d9ea19/7e0e2cd9567a8d5f-fa/s1280x1920/2590ae04340853f5845e50bf379afc6969874754.jpg

https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d2/99/70/d29970a26f5c8c5ea2cf80baeae54490.jpg

(if you think this is too easy, I dare you to figure out why each image is part of the hints)

ooh okayyy fun lets have a look

so. first thoughts. clearly a doctor who mutual. this does not narrow it down at all. why is there a cow.

bicycle? (that took me like six tries to spell right) i am thinking perhaps moon? the pen and quill supports this. although based just off the way its all written i suspect it is not. maybe a doctor who writer mutual???? capybara-on-a-bicyle??????? or uhhhh. theres someone elseee who is it. alTHOUGH the bicycle would make sense then......!

OH an art. by capybara-on-a-bicycle. this feels like cheating bc it says whose it is in the corner. is this cheating. or just someone being clever and deflecting. hmmm

oh capybara. yeah okay. i have discovered your identity anon!🫵 @capybaraonabicycle

[this is from this game - if anyone else wants to do this, please do!!!!!!!]