#okay but a thread based off either of these please ????

[ayahimes]

dyn : ayaka kamisato + kaedehara kazuha ©

[pidgeispunk]

Head Scratches?

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x fem!reader

category: fluff

word count: 544

cw: innuendo?

Based on a cute lil convo with @thatoneobsessedlinguist-writes

Most — if not all — of Jack’s previous relationships had been mainly focused on sex. That was really all of his exes wanted from him, the relationships were only so long because Jack saw nothing wrong with it. He had never had a normal relationship, with things other than sex and making out. He had no clue there was this whole other side to being with somebody. That was until he met you.

“Come here baby” you said, softly patting the space on the mattress between your thighs. He had always called girls baby, hearing somebody refer to him as it was different.. good different. He quirked an eyebrow in your direction, eyes flicking between where your hand was and your face. “Why?” he asked with a smirk, assuming he knew what you were in the mood for.

“Not for that” you chuckled, your hand swatting his arm gently “Just lie down.” With a little caution and confusion, Jack scooted closer until he was lying between your legs on his back. You let your legs lay flat on either side of him, feeling as his calloused hands immediately took to your thighs, thumbs moving in their own rhythm back and forth.

He was about to speak when he felt your fingers threading through his hair, nails lightly tracing over his scalp. This was new. It was a foreign feeling, the way you lightly scratched his head in circular motions, but my god was it wonderful. He couldn’t help the way his head tilted back and pushed into your hands, wanting you to apply just a little more pressure. With a chuckle, you obliged, nails beginning to run back and forth along his head. His hair was a little sweaty, but then again he had probably been running around all day.

“What’s this for?” he asked, feeling as if he must have done something good to have earned this heavenly reward.

“What do you mean?” you questioned, nails running along his hairline as you felt his brows crease together.

“Why are you doing this?” You could tell he was well and truly confused, and in all honesty that broke your heart. Had nobody truly cared for this man before?

“Just wanna make you feel good” you responded, you weren’t sure if it was a good idea to delve into his past relationships right now. The two of you had only been together three months, and Jack had been quite closed off for the first month.

“Oh.. okay” he slowly nodded, letting his body relax into you as he finally allowed himself to fully enjoy the feeling. You didn’t miss the way he would hum every so often, muttering things like ‘a little to the left please’ or ‘thank you sweetheart.’

He didn’t need to thank you, but instead of telling him that you just told him ‘of course honey’ and let him enjoy the moment. You leant down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Love you” you mumbled.

Neither of you had actually said the full sentence, just a couple ‘love you’s here and there when he left for work, or before bed. “Love you too darlin” he replied in a mumble. Bless him, he was nodding off right there.

[yoshizawaviolet]

— ❝ One day at a time. ❞

✧ ADMIN. celeste (kroosluvr) / she/her / 23 / PST (but i'm pretty nocturnal)

✧ TATSUYA SUOU ASK/RP (@lonesingularity)

headcanon-based, canon-divergent at times, celeste's personal and beloved take on sumire yoshizawa! established july 17 2024.

all art posted or used as icons is either mine or from official persona media! please do not repost or use my art without permission!

please read my rules under the cut before following or interacting - we do not have to be mutuals to interact! ♡

no spoiler tags for p5r

open rp ✧ rp prompts ✧ all rp ✧ sumire musings ✧ art tag ✧ sumire answers ✧ verses

okay to respond to open rp, rp prompts, or musings whenever!

— ONE. my number 1 rule is absolutely no NSFW or R18 content. (even in AUs/timeskips.) aside from sumire being a minor, around age 15-16, i myself am not comfortable with that. i may also not interact with accounts that largely post nsfw/r18 stuff for my own comfort. please understand!!!  

— TWO. blood, violence is ok to a certain extent! but nothing crazy! i'll let you know if it's to an uncomfortable extent for me! 

— THREE. i may respond to asks/rp with art, but do not interact with me with expectations for art. if you even remotely tell me to draw something for you, i'll probably stop talking to you or block completely. (Vice versa, if you're an artist, please don't feel pressured to respond with art!!! <33)

— FOUR. this is my first time rping as a canon character, and running an rp/askblog at that! so, i'd like to restrict rp to persona series characters (and persona OCs) only for now. this might change later! the only mainline game i'm unfamiliar with is p1, and i haven't played strikers or finished tactica yet. 

— FIVE. i may not respond to your ask if 1) i can't think of a good answer 2) the ask is confusing 3) makes me uncomfortable 

— SIX. hopefully this is obvious but please no unsolicited flirting/overfamiliarity with the muse or admin, especially out-of-character.

OK !!! ദ്ദി ( ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ )

sending asks about specific ships/leaning towards certain pairings, and feel free to specify if you'd like! "i.e. what do you like to do with x, what do you think about y?" as i am an avid sumire multishipper, basically any sumire x pthief or highschool-aged npc is valid! cross-persona series characters are also valid with chemistry! (so probably don't ask "what do you think about minato" as there's nothing to go off)

if we follow each other (reminder that i follow from kroosluvr!) honestly feel free to shoot a starter anytime, i don't mind at all! even multiple rps going at the same time are awesome!!! ^^

totally ok to drop a thread if you don't see it going anywhere or it's naturally come to a close! (though i think ending it with an [END] of sorts would be nice hehe

my sumire is bi demisexual! my favorite pairings for her are shusumi/shuakesumi poly/akesumi (my favorites! feel free to read here for more), kitasumi/violetfox, annsumi, sumitaba, ryusumi, and sumifumi!! but as mentioned, totally willing to rp/think/draw other ships!

NO !!! Σ(°ロ°)

probably no rp with other sumires, sorry - i just don't think i have ideas for that haha

please don't push headcanons or ships on me!

please don't dm me unless we've interacted before!! if there's any inquiries you have re: my art, commissions, please dm my main, kroosluvr.

please do not push me to answer your ask!!!!!! totally ok to nudge me if we're mid-rp though and its been 48~ hours!

do not use the icons that i make for sumire, as they're tailored to my depiction of sumire and therefore i don't want anyone else to use them.

thanks for reading! let's have fun! ♡

[greenerteacups]

oooh please someday tell us what you think of GOT

oh, no, it's my fatal weakness! it's [checks notes] literally just the bare modicum of temptation! okay you got me.

SO. in order to tell what's wrong with game of thrones you kind of have to have read the books, because the books are the reason the show goes off the rails. i actually blame the showrunners relatively little in proportion to GRRM for how bad the show was (which I'm not gonna rehash here because if you're interested in GOT in any capacity you've already seen that horse flogged to death). people debate when GOT "got bad" in terms of writing, but regardless of when you think it dropped off, everyone agrees the quality declined sharply in season 8, and to a certain extent, season 7. these are the seasons that are more or less entirely spun from whole cloth, because season 7 marks the beginning of what will, if we ever see it, be the Winds of Winter storyline. it's the first part that isn't based on a book by George R.R. Martin. it's said that he gave the showrunners plot outlines, but we don't know how detailed they were, or how much the writers diverged from the blueprint — and honestly, considering the cumulative changes made to the story by that point, some stark divergence would have been required. (there's a reason for this. i'll get there in a sec.)

so far, i'm not saying anything all that original. a lot of people recognized how bad the show got as soon as they ran out of Book to adapt. (I think it's kind of weird that they agreed to make a show about an unfinished series in the first place — did GRRM figure that this was his one shot at a really good HBO adaptation, and forego misgivings about his ability to write two full books in however many years it took to adapt? did he think they would wait for him? did he not care that the series would eventually spoil his magnum opus, which he's spent the last three decades of his life writing? perplexing.) but the more interesting question is why the show got bad once it ran out of Book, because in my mind, that's not a given. a lot of great shows depart from the books they were based on. fanfiction does exactly that, all the time! if you have good writers who understand the characters they're working with, departure means a different story, not a worse one. now, the natural reply would be to say that the writers of GOT just aren't good, or at least aren't good at the things that make for great television, and that's why they needed the books as a structure, but I don't think that's true or fair, either. books and television are very different things. the pacing of a book is totally different from the pacing of a television show, and even an episodic book like ASOIAF is going to need a lot of work before it's remotely watchable as a series. bad writers cannot make great series of television, regardless of how good their source material is. sure, they didn't invent the characters of tyrion lannister and daenerys targaryen, but they sure as hell understood story structure well enough to write a damn compelling season of TV about them!

so but then: what gives? i actually do think it's a problem with the books! the show starts out as very faithful to the early books (namely, A Game of Thrones and A Clash of Kings) to the point that most plotlines are copied beat-for-beat. the story is constructed a little differently, and it's definitely condensed, but the meat is still there. and not surprisingly, the early books in ASOIAF are very tightly written. for how long they are, you wouldn't expect it, but on every page of those books, the plot is racing. you can practically watch george trying to beat the fucking clock. and he does! useful context here is that he originally thought GOT was going to be a trilogy, and so the scope of most threads in the first book or two would have been much smaller. it also helps that the first three books are in some respects self-contained stories. the first book is a mystery, the second and third are espionage and war dramas — and they're kept tight in order to serve those respective plots.

the trouble begins with A Feast for Crows, and arguably A Storm of Swords, because GRRM starts multiplying plotlines and treating the series as a story, rather than each individual book. he also massively underestimated the number of pages it would take him to get through certain plot beats — an assumption whose foundation is unclear, because from a reader's standpoint, there is a fucke tonne of shit in Feast and Dance that's spurious. I'm not talking about Brienne's Riverlands storyline (which I adore thematically but speaking honestly should have been its own novella, not a part of Feast proper). I'm talking about whole chapters where Tyrion is sitting on his ass in the river, just talking to people. (will I eat crow about this if these pay off in hugely satisfying ways in Winds or Dream? oh, totally. my brothers, i will gorge myself on sweet sweet corvid. i will wear a dunce cap in the square, and gleefully, if these turn out to not have been wastes of time. the fact that i am writing this means i am willing to stake a non-negligible amount of pride on the prediction that that will not happen). I'm talking about scenes where the characters stare at each other and talk idly about things that have already happened while the author describes things we already have seen in excruciating detail. i'm talking about threads that, while forgivable in a different novel, are unforgivable in this one, because you are neglecting your main characters and their story. and don't tell me you think that a day-by-day account tyrion's river cruise is necessary to telling his story, because in the count of monte cristo, the main guy disappears for nine years and comes hurtling back into the story as a vengeful aristocrat! and while time jumps like that don't work for everything, they certainly do work if what you're talking about isn't a major story thread!

now put aside whether or not all these meandering, unconcluded threads are enjoyable to read (as, in fairness, they often are!). think about them as if you're a tv showrunner. these bad boys are your worst nightmare. because while you know the author put them in for a reason, you haven't read the conclusion to the arc, so you don't know what that reason is. and even if the author tells you in broad strokes how things are going to end for any particular character (and this is a big "if," because GRRM's whole style is that he lets plots "develop as he goes," so I'm not actually convinced that he does have endings written out for most major characters), that still doesn't help you get them from point A (meandering storyline) to point B (actual conclusion). oh, and by the way, you have under a year to write this full season of television, while GRRM has been thinking about how to end the books for at least 10. all of this means you have to basically call an audible on whether or not certain arcs are going to pay off, and, if they are, whether they make for good television, and hence are worth writing. and you have to do that for every. single. unfinished. story. in the books.

here's an example: in the books, Quentin Martell goes on a quest to marry Daenerys and gain a dragon. many chapters are spent detailing this quest. spoiler alert: he fails, and he gets charbroiled by dragons. GRRM includes this plot to set up the actions of House Martell in Winds, but the problem is that we don't know what House Martell does in Winds, because (see above) the book DNE. So, although we can reliably bet that the showrunners understand (1) Daenerys is coming to Westeros with her 3 fantasy nukes, and (2) at some point they're gonna have to deal with the invasion of frozombies from Canada, that DOESN'T mean they necessarily know exactly what's going to happen to Dorne, or House Martell. i mean, fuck! we don't even know if Martin knows what's going to happen to Dorne or House Martell, because he's said he's the kind of writer who doesn't set shit out beforehand! so for every "Cersei defaults on millions of dragons in loans from the notorious Bank of Nobody Fucks With Us, assumes this will have no repercussions for her reign or Westerosi politics in general" plotline — which might as well have a big glaring THIS WILL BE IMPORTANT stamp on top of the chapter heading — you have Arianne Martell trying to do a coup/parent trap switcheroo with Myrcella, or Euron the Goffick Antichrist, or Faegon Targaryen and JonCon preparing a Blackfyre restoration, or anything else that might pan out — but might not! And while that uncertainty about what's important to the "overall story" might be a realistic way of depicting human beings in a world ruled by chance and not Destiny, it makes for much better reading than viewing, because Game of Thrones as a fantasy television series was based on the first three books, which are much more traditional "there is a plot and main characters and you can generally tell who they are" kind of book. I see Feast and Dance as a kind of soft reboot for the series in this respect, because they recenter the story around a much larger cast and cast a much broader net in terms of which characters "deserve" narrative attention.

but if you're making a season of television, you can't do that, because you've already set up the basic premise and pacing of your story, and you can't suddenly pivot into a long-form tone poem about the horrors of war. so you have to cut something. but what are you gonna cut? bear in mind that you can't just Forget About Dorne, or the Iron Islands, or the Vale, or the North, or pretty much any region of the story, because it's all interconnected, but to fit in everything from the books would require pacing of the sort that no reasonable audience would ever tolerate. and bear in mind that the later books sprout a lot more of these baby-plots that could go somewhere, but also might end up being secondary or tertiary to the "main story," which, at the end of the day, is about dragons and ice zombies and the rot at the heart of the feudal power system glorified in classical fantasy. that's the story that you as the showrunner absolutely must give them an end to, and that's the story that should be your priority 1.

so you do a hack and slash job, and you mortar over whatever you cut out with storylines that you cook up yourself, but you can't go too far afield, because you still need all the characters more or less in place for the final showdown. so you pinch here and push credulity there, and you do your best to put the characters in more or less the same place they would have been if you kept the original, but on a shorter timeframe. and is it as good as the first seasons? of course not! because the material that you have is not suited to TV like the first seasons are. and not only that, but you are now working with source material that is actively fighting your attempt to constrain a linear and well-paced narrative on it. the text that you're working with changed structure when you weren't looking, and now you have to find some way to shanghai this new sprawling behemoth of a Thing into a television show. oh, and by the way, don't think that the (living) author of the source material will be any help with this, because even though he's got years of experience working in television writing, he doesn't actually know how all of these threads will tie together, which is possibly the reason that the next book has taken over 8 years (now 13 and counting) to write. oh and also, your showrunners are sick of this (in fairness, very difficult) job and they want to go write for star wars instead, so they've refused the extra time the studio offered them for pre-production and pushed through a bunch of first-draft scripts, creating a crunch culture of the type that spawns entirely avoidable mistakes, like, say, some poor set designer leaving a starbucks cup in frame.

anyway, that's what I think went wrong with game of thrones.

[tigsbitties]

Please talk about the blue line between mingus & randy on the shipping chart. i have to know

okay i’ll bite.

so in the yaoi hivemind dialtown thread we have come up with a hypothetical referred to simply as “the curse”. the curse, in simple terms, is a phenomenon in which the out of universe life ruining cuteness aggression that affects a larger percentage of Dialtowns player base upon seeing Randy starts affecting people in universe.

The curse is largely reliant on Randy’s already existing character growth making her a happier, more confident person who can assert herself better— as seen in chapter 3 and also the DTF youtube shorts where she’s still Randy but is doing a lot better and thus is able to endear herself to the public more— combined with the beautiful power of estrogen induced will to live. The moe levels are off the charts here.

A large percentage of Dialtown’s population will develop a crush on Randy at some point. You’ll never know when, you’ll never know for how long, but if your phone universe sexuality grants you the ability to freak it with a nonbinary any pronouns cellphone woman then you are at VERY HIGH RISK.

this is where Mingus comes in. She is not safe from the curse, a fact she is deeply unhappy about. Randy, up until now, has occupied the same amount of space in mingus’s brain as couch cushion crumbs or perhaps a weird snail she saw back in the summer of ‘08– unremarkable, if slightly unpleasant. But it creeps up on her. I think a part of her wants to have control over something more visibly pathetic than her. during the dialtown reconstruction effort she saw randy trip and fall and go “kyaaaaa!” with toast in her weird eating slot and that was the beginning of the end. her deeply repressed psyche just can’t handle the closest thing Wisconsin has to a real life anime girl.

I cannot stress how much nothing is going to come of this. Mingus is never going to admit her attraction to anyone let alone RANDY . you could not waterboard that out of her. and Randy, who crucially is not aware of the existence of the curse, is scared shitless of her. As she should be. Mingus has zero interest in her in a romantic sense and instead wants to keep her in a jar forever like a pet leech. whose to say if she’ll ever escape her demons.

I also think they go to the same therapist (or they WOULD if you could drag mingus to therapy). In life having an over bearing father who will never be proud of you either turns you into a mingus or a randy. they don’t know this about each other and thus has very little to do with my point but i think if Mingus realized she found any aspect of Randy “relatable” she might kill herself or others

[onlyseokmins]

$$60 billion (part 2) • l.s.m.

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

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

The silence is palpable.

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

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

So, you keep talking.

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

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

Or maybe you're just thinking too hard.

"Look. I'm… I'm sorry."

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

"Are you really?"

"… Yes."

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

"I seriously am."

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

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

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

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

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

"Then what did you learn?"

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

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

"Try again."

"Uh…"

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

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

"I'm, I'm sorry!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Partner?"

"Yeah, partners."

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

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

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

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

Then he snarls.

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

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

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

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

Someone wails behind him.

You scream.

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

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

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

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

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

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't call me that!"

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

"Know your place."

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

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

"I didn't!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I almost lost you."

"But you didn't."

"…I know. And I'm so fuckin' glad."

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

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

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

"Let me help."

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

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

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

"I probably should've just showered."

You shrug. "You still could."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We still need to chat. You promised."

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

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

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

Don't let me down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y-you know about the bet?"

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

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

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

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

"Known for a while, to be honest."

"Seriously? I thought it was a secret!"

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

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

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

"Against my will, too much…"

"Which means I'm right."

"… I guess you do make a fair point."

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

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

"Like what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But I do."

"Yeah? Prove it!"

Ooh, a challenge.

And one more step closer.

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

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

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

"But…?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that was that.

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

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

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

"You're sure about this?"

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

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

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

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

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

"You look tired, you doing okay?"

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

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

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

"I'll feel better at the border."

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

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

"Jun can take a look at my shoulder."

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

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

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

"Wouldn't be the first time."

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

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

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

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

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

"Greetings, weary travelers."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not true!"

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

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

"It's not like that."

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

"Boring."

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

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

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

"Sounds cozy."

"I swear —"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Did you fit Seok with a new arm?"

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

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

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

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

"So, he already told you what happened."

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

"But…" You repeat warily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Again.

"Where is he?"

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

"Sure."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why was he acting like this?

Did he regret everything that happened between you?

Was something wrong?

Would he shut himself away from you?

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

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

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

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

"Open the door."

Silence.

"Please."

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

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

"As you can see, I'm quite fi —"

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

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

Feathers. Everywhere.

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

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

"Seok, how did… how did this happen?"

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

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

So that's how they hide and reappear.

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

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

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

Desire.

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

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

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

"Get out."

"Seok —"

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

"My own good?"

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

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

"I haven't —"

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

You promised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is it a disease?"

"Wish it was that simple."

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

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

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

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

"… Tesla."

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

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

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

He holds his head. "… Yes."

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

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

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

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

"Better than leafy, I suppose."

"Though you are quite… feathery."

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

"You still keep that old thing around?"

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

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

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

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

"… Why?"

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

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

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

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

"Conscious consent and reciprocation."

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

"No."

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

"What? Wh-why?"

"Don't get me wrong, it's —"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's —"

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

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

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

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

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

"… You said you loved him."

"When?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And I adore you, my lovely mayfly."

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

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

"Yours?"

"Mine."

"Sucker."

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

"What?"

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

"… Was not."

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

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

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

"And what's on the table?"

"Sixty billion double dollars, of course."

"That so?"

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

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

"Winner takes all?"

"Mayfly, I've always been yours."

"Sap," you laugh again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Because you're a vision to behold."

"Says the one who looks like an angel."

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

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

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

"Beautiful," he murmurs.

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

"May I?"

"Of course."

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

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

"Are you alright?"

"Mhm… yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let me take care of you too."

"Are you sure? What about your shoulder?"

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

"I can still…"

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

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

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

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

"May I?"

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

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

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

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

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

"You don't have to —"

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

"Oh, mayfly."

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

"Ah, 'm sorry!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Will it fit?"

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

"I trust you."

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

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

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

"Mhm, mayfly… my love… my mate."

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

"Mine."

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

"Yours."

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

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

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

"I-I love you," Seokmin rasps.

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, you."

"Hello there yourself, lovely mayfly."

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

"Did that help?"

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

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

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

"What are you —"

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

"But not of this," he rasps.

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

"Oh, aren't you a beauty?"

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

Delicious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you three doing in here?"

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

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

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

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

"Pay up for what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Should be our next bettin' round."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Very well. Shall we go now?"

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

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

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

"Chan."

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

"Yes, Saintess?"

"Do you regret it?"

"No. Never."

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

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

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

"Do you think this will work?"

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

"Have you ever played chess before?"

"No, what is it?"

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

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

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

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

"What's that one?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©

[gummydummy19]

month five (September): early bird

Summary: Sy comes home early from tour

Warnings: none really, some tension, Sy comes back home :))

A/N: Sorry this took a while, it's exam season (again, yes I know, life as a European college student is rough) I also had some friends visit me from abroad, and well time has just been flying the fuck by so...apologies BUT wait no more, here it is :))

(this is part five to my series: A year in apartment 6B)

'H-Hello?' you picked up the call, trying to calm down your racing heart.

'Hi there,'

'Sy?!'

'That's the one.'

For some reason, it felt like you'd been caught. You swallowed thickly, prepared to give some kind of explanation as to why on earth you were wearing his boxers. And why did they have a wet patch, growing undeniably larger around your crotch?

'You there, Sugar?'

His deep voice shook you out of your initial panic and shot straight to your core. You realized then how much you had missed his voice, and as you realized that, you realized something else.

'I thought you weren't allowed to call from base?'

'Well, I'm not on base.'

'Then where the hell are you?'

You couldn't help the worry lacing around your words.

'Alright, I'm gonna need you to calm down...'

Those words did not help you calm down. In fact, they did the exact opposite.

'There was a...an incident...and,'

'Logan Henry Syverson, where THE HELL are you?!'

'Reed Army Medical Centre, DC.'

Your stomach dropped.

'M-medical Centre? Wait, did you say DC? You're in America? You're in a Medical Centre in America?'

You didn't even know what you were saying at this point. The words just flowed out of your mouth as they settled into your brain.

Medical Centre. In DC. He got sent back. He got hurt.

'I just wanted to let you know I'll be coming home early.' he said casually

'What...what happened?'

'Like I said, there was an incident at the base.'

You knew he wasn't gonna give you more than that. Not that you needed to hear the details. Besides, you don't think you could handle hearing it and you're sure Sy didn't need a replay of the events either.

'How bad are you hurt?' you asked, that's all you needed to know.

'I've been better but I've been worse.' he stated, 'Don't worry your pretty little head about me, I'm fine.'

'So how long do you have to stay there? And how long have you been there? Have you called your parents yet? Do you need me to call them? Can you have visitors, because I can-'

'Woah there, sugar. Don't forget to breathe.' He interrupted your ramble

'Sorry...' you apologized a little embarrassed, earning a small chuckle from him.

'I got out of surgery a couple hours ago. I need to stay here for a couple weeks. I called my parents before I went into surgery and my mother left a little while ago with Aika. She's gonna take care of her until I get discharged here and then she's gonna drop us off home. Oh and please don't you dare come all the way out here to DC, okay? It's not worth it I'm telling ya, sugar, I'll be home before you know it.'

Surgery???

'You brought, Aika?' you asked, deciding once again not to push it

'My leg was hanging on by a thread but I refused to get on the plane without her.' he joked

His leg. That's what he had surgery on.

You stayed quiet as you looked around the apartment, already thinking of ways to make moving around the place easier for Sy. Maybe you could move the couch a bit? Would he have crutches? or a wheelchair?

'I can hear you thinking through the phone, princess'

'hmm' you tried to play it off casually

'I'll be back soon, okay? Is the place growing mold yet?'

'Yeah, a little but don't worry it matches the burn marks in the kitchen.'

For the first time, you heard him let out a laugh. An actual, honest laugh.

You immediately wanted to hear it again.

'Alright, trouble. I gotta go, doc just walked in for a checkup. I'll see ya soon, okay?'

'Okay, call me if you need anything...'

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

As the days flew by, the nervous feeling in your stomach only grew. September had rolled around and that meant it was your fifth month of living in the apartment. The weather was getting gloomier and the days were getting shorter, it felt like time was flying faster and faster each day.

It had been a week since Sy's call. Part of you was relieved to know he was safe now, but another part was concerned.

Even though you got a text from him every day, you were none the wiser about his situation. He kept his messages short and sweet, mostly asking about you and always saying he's fine or 'doc said I'm making progress.'

Almost two weeks after his first call he called you again to tell you he needed follow-up surgery. You tried your hardest not to worry too much. Some days you didn't know what scared you more, Sy's situation or how much you cared about Sy's situation.

//

'Are you okay?!' You immediately spoke when you picked up the phone. It had been a week since Sy's follow-up surgery and you hadn't heard a single thing from him

'Hello to you too.' he spoke

'Would it have killed you to text me after surgery? I've spent an entire week planning your fucking funeral you fucking morron!'

'I'm sorry sugar, I'm fine, I promise. Ma stopped by a couple times and I slept through half the week' He assured you, 'I got some good news...I'm coming home tomorrow'

'Tomorrow?!' You thought back about the mess you dared to call your apartment.

'Yeah...is that okay?'

'O-ofcourse! Yeah, totally!'

'I gotta keep my cast on for another five weeks but aside from that I'm good to go.'

While Sy continued with his small talk you silently grabbed your calendar from your desk, marking October 23rd, the date exactly 5 weeks from now...

After work, you raced home to clean everything for the 4th time in 6 days and rearranged the furniture just to put it back where it started (twice). Christ, it felt like you were preparing for the damn pope to visit.

You even stopped by the store to buy a toy for Aika, praying to god she'd like it.

By the end of the night, you were utterly exhausted, pouring yourself a generous glass of wine to ease the nerves as you crawled on the couch, barely staying awake long enough to figure out what movie you were watching...

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

'Sugar?'

'...hmm?' your brain slowly but surely stirred awake.

You barely got your eyes open before having to screw them shut again as a big wet nose nudged yours, warm tongue licking your cheek happily.

'Aika!' Sy growled out, trying to pull her back a little.

Sy. SY?!

Your eyes shot open again. There he was. Peering down at you. Maybe it was the sleepiness or the way he was standing there looking down at you, but fuck, he looked good. You'd think a near-death experience would take it out of you, huh?

'You're home!' you sat up quickly, the fluffy blanket dropping onto your lap.

'Morning, trouble. Why are you sleeping on the couch?' He asked 'Please don't tell me you have rats in your room or something...'

Your tired brain was starting to take in your surroundings. You felt like the human version of a Windows 8.

'I-I'm...uh...No, I was cleaning up last night and I guess I just...dozed off...' you explained 'I'm so sorry, Sy. I didn't know you'd be home this early, what time is it?'

Sy smiled down at you as Aika slowly sniffed your leg. 'Don't worry, Sugar. You didn't have to go through all that trouble, the place is damn spotless.' he complimented. 'And it's 8AM. I wasn't planning on coming this early but my Ma liked to go to the farmers market on Saturday morning, so I told her she could drop me off before she went.'

'Oh crap, your mom! She didn't see me drooling all over the couch did she?!'

And there it was again, his dashing smile.

'No don't worry, she dropped me off downstairs.'

You nodded at his words and a comfortable silence filled the room. Your eyes roamed his body again. He was wearing a shirt and some loose sweats. The pants covered his legs, but you could still tell there was a cast going from his left knee to his foot and you finally noticed he was holding a crutch.

Suddenly feeling incredibly rude and a tad embarrassed, you stood up.

'Oh shit, sorry! Sit down, please! Do you need anything?'

Sy had a stern look on his face, you thought you may have offended him in some way before you realized his gaze was aimed directly at your breasts, which you just noticed were only covered by a very thin tank top, leaving little to the imagination.

You felt your face getting red before Aika nudged her head against your hand, desperately begging for some much-needed attention.

'Hi there,' you smiled at her, petting her head 'So you're the famous Aika, huh?' you said, trying to ignore Sy's stare and the way it made you blush like a schoolgirl.

'Oh, I almost forgot! I got her something! Wait there...' you said as you quickly ran off to grab the toy you bought her from your room.

When you got back, Aika immediately took the toy from you, trotting around the couch with pride.

'Thanks, you really shouldn't have,' Sy said with a warm smile

You felt a sudden urge to wrap your arms around him. You wanted to hold him, tell him he was safe now, and say you'd care for him.

Part of you had hoped your slightly inappropriate thoughts about Sy would come to an end once he got home. But seeing him stand right in front of you had your mind clouding with snippets from your dreams all over again.

'I wanted to make her feel at home,' you said, 'Like you did when I first moved in.'

You kept your voice quiet, afraid he'd hear the tremble in it if you spoke any louder.

'Well, I hardly did anything special.' Sy stated, moving a bit closer to you 'And I definitely didn't buy you any toys...'

You snorted at that.

'Well, maybe that's something you should consider then.' you teased, taking couple steps back, 'I'm gonna go take a shower, I'll make some breakfast when I'm out, sound good?'

'Sounds perfect, Sugar.'

And just like that, Sy was home.

Taglist;

@metalbuckaroo

@princessayveke

@montsepliego

@scxrletrecsmarvel

@hopelesslyrogers

@eclecticpatrolroadlawyer

@tfandtws

@vicmc624

@ahahafudge

@enchantedbarnes

@wickedravyn

@pono-pura-vida

@amayaraestyles

@matchat3a

@fictional-hooman

@sebastianexplicit

@peaches1958

@avengersfan25

@jamneuromain

@tryingtoliveonmywishes

@mrsevans90

@daybreak96

@tiredqueen73

@fallingforunrealisticromance

@identity2212

@randomweirdoss

@ragamuffin285

@juliaorpll78

@geralts-yenn

@imjusthereforliam

@bangtanstoeart

@squeezyvalkyrie

A/N: OOoohhh I am so so so so soooo happy Sy is home I can't wait to show you guys what fun stuff I have planned for these roomies hehe. I hope you enjoyed, as always feedback is welcome and like/shares/comments are highly appreciated <3

[g1amours]

hello! i'm 25, in the eastern timezone, and go by she / her pronouns. i am looking for someone 21+ to write over discord with! it’d be preferable if we were in similar timezones, or if you were active at the same times as me! i am most active from 2pm-11pm, my time. if we’ve written in the past or things never kicked off and you see something you’re interested in in this post, please reach back out! i’m always down for rekindling old connections. i’m a fan of angst - heavy plots. i am okay with smut and fluff, but i get bored if it is all fluff and no angst! do not interact if you are not going to contribute to the plotting process. i want someone who is going to actively participate in the plot and be excited about our ship(s). that being said, i’m also looking for someone that can reply frequently. real life happens and i’m a victim of that as well, but right now i’m looking for a partner that can do frequent replies and has time for rapid-fire replies at times too! because of this, i'm looking for shorter 1-2 paragraph replies. love including text threads too! all of that being said, if this sounds like we'd be a good match, go ahead and click the read more button for wanted plots! <3 all of the below plots are listed with f/m and m/m in mind, unless stated otherwise. if you're interested, like this post and i'll reach out or you can shoot me a message!

but daddy, i love him!

a plot where muse a is a celebrity (we could decide what kind) known for their awful habits. drugs, alcohol, sleeping around. cue muse b coming in like i can fix him (no really i can). muse b could be a celebrity, or an assistant, or someone working with muse a. bonus: muse b is a normal person who loves this celebrity and they happen to meet. extra bonus: a wrong number plot with this one.

i love you (it's ruining my life)

this one is specifically made with m/m in mind. muse a and muse b play on either the same or opposing hockey teams. they're both stars, and oh god do they hate each other. like really, truly hate each other. different teams can be rivals, whereas the same team can be always competing for the top spot. maybe muse a is given captain over muse b, maybe muse b refuses to give muse a a pass that could win the game. complete enemies to lovers. bonus: hockey is a very straight sport and coming out could jeopardize their careers. for this, i'm looking for one of the muses to be more hot-headed, aggressive, and more of a temper while the other is a little more level-headed. bonus points if one doesn't even realize he's gay. bonus bonus if it's the more hot-headed, temperamental one.

come back... be here

another sports based one. obsessed with hockey tropes but love basketball too. muse a is an up and coming athlete and is dating muse b. they've been dating since high school, and when muse a hits their big break and is finally drafted onto a big team, he becomes a celebrity. angst from muse a having to constantly be on the move, always be busy, and from having to leave muse b behind. it's a huge hit to their relationship. muse b can't leave because they're passionate about their career and they're established in their city. they're happy from muse a's success, but at what cost? possible tropes could include: cheating, lovers to exes to ?, tabloid scandals, accidental pregnancy, etc.

your wife waters flowers, i wanna kill her

credit to this person for this plot idea inspo! a plot where muse a and muse b are dating in high school for years but muse a gets into their dream college across the country. it was never part of the plan, muse a was supposed to stay local while muse b was supposed to take over the family business that they're oh so passionate about. muse a eventually breaks it to muse b and they try to make it work, but muse a could tell how muse b wasn't happy with long distance and they were starting to shrivel, their relationship deteriorating. knowing that muse b would never admit it and let muse a go, muse a decides to make up a lie and say that they lost feelings. maybe muse a even says they cheated. they break up. flash forward, muse a graduates and moves back to their hometown and finds muse b engaged to muse a's former best friend. bonus: wait... how old is that (four-year-old) kid holding your hand?

i can fix him (no really, i can)

double celebrity plot, muse a is america's sweetheart and is loved by all, while muse b is the opposite. muse a and muse b get connected, and while muse a wants to fix muse a, their reputation is taking a hit. scandals, tabloids, fans, muse a's awful decisions. is it worth it?

i just wanna stay in that lavender haze

wrong number plot. muse a accidentally texts muse b who is a famous celebrity. they text for a while and slowly fall for each other. will small town muse a ever be able to adapt to an international sensation muse b? what happens once reality comes crashing in like a tidal wave and they can't ignore the outside world from invading?

look at this idiotic fool that you made me

muse a is a famous musician and muse b is their partner who has been there since before muse a became famous, supporting them through their dreams and goals. muse b goes between travelling with muse a and spending time in their hometown to get away from the spotlight. it's a normal weekend of muse a's shows, who has been increasingly getting involved in more famous crowds, when muse b wakes up and sees pictures of muse a leaving the bar with someone. muse a admits to cheating and muse b ends the relationship. but no matter how hard muse b tries, they keep going back, and muse a keeps spiraling. it turns into a toxic, cheating, fucked up relationship and muse b is torn between helping them get better and finally going towards turkey. after all, this isn't the muse a they knew and loved. can't they get back to being that person? bonus if m/f: accidental pregnancy. extra extra extra bonus for this.

if i'm dead to you why are you at the wake?

muse a and muse b are married and find themselves in an accidental pregnancy situation. they're both excited, their relationship is stable, and they decide it's a good time. except when muse a gives birth (this could also be adoption if m/m), their relationship struggles. they're fighting all the time, they can't get along, they haven't been physical in months, they have different parenting styles. maybe there's even cheating on one or both sides. muse a maybe is struggling with postpartum depression or has in the past and is extremely overprotective and bossy, maybe muse b isn't adjusting the best to being a parent.

[kentofication]

🔍︎ — choso kamo ✰ fem!reader

♯ — cockwarming choso while he plays his video games.

∎ — 0.7k ✰ smut/fluff (sexual interaction, cockwarming, vaginal penetration, pet names, consensual).

ⅲ — its beginning to look a lot like christmas.

choso was a gamer. he played his video games on a regular basis, taking time off to spend with you and also to spend time with his friends virtually. 

choso was always really focused on his games before he met you. even though he’s still like that, he takes time off to spend time with his love—which would be you. 

it was nighttime during a nice saturday. you were sitting on the nice comforted sofa watching a thriller movie when you heard the sounds of frustrated groans coming from your boyfriend’s room. you continued to ignore it, because of how often he makes those sounds whilst losing a match, while you continue to watch your movie. 

approximately five minutes later, you get a text from choso. 

“come here” it read. you gulped, apparently he was not in a good mood. he would usually send you texts saying “love, would you please come here” or something of that sort. but right now, he was armed and dangerous. he was in a really sour mood. 

you turned off your phone and headed to the room where choso lurked. he glanced at you with his plum-colored eyes as he patted his thigh, signaling for you to come and sit. you obliged, sitting on choso’s lap while he fixated the controller in his hand and began to continue playing. 

his fingers continuously moved on the buttons, controlling the direction the character moves and what actions the character performed. you sat there, just looking at his fingers dance across the display of buttons. you unconsciously started to twiddle with your fingers: choso didn’t notice this since he was too focused on his game. 

once you finally caught onto what you were doing, the screen turned red. 

choso lost once again. 

he let out a thread of curse words left and right, bouncing off the walls and getting absorbed by the couch that sat directly behind him. “choso,” you whisper. “it’s okay, it’s just a game.” choso gazed as you—more like side-eyeing. you knew how serious he took his video games. 

“i know.” he managed to mumble out, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. you giggled at his ministrations. 

“so, why did you tell me to come?” choso sighed, “missed you. plus this game is making me pretty pissed.” you giggled yet again at his statement, seeing your boyfriend make a slight frown. “what can i do to make you un-pissed?” you questioned while still in the midst of laughing. 

choso looked serious this time, but at that same time, his eyes were filled with lust. that sentence ignited a fire inside of his that needed to be put out immediately—but it stayed burning. “sit on it.” he commanded. it wasn’t a mere statement or question, it sounded like he wanted it to be done. “it?” you questioned. “sit on my cock. be a good girl f’me, yeah?” you gulped and began to shift over enough to pull choso’s pants and boxers down to his mid-thigh. he groaned at the action as his thumb slightly slid off of the base of the controller. his plum-like eyes were staring holes into you without even knowing. a grin started to plaster on his face as you watched his tip quickly meet his stomach. 

choso placed the controller down on the stand as he took two of his fingers and quickly swiped your folds. “mmm, wet for me already? i haven’t even started.” choso chuckled after the sentence as he slowly slid you down on his cock. “you aren’t wearing anything underneath either. you dirty, dirty girl.” choso cooed. you moaned as the sudden movement, but after awhile you were successfully planted on his dick. 

he kissed your temple to help distract you from the pain and began to run soothing circles around your thighs. “shh, it’s okay baby. you did amazing. now just sit here and stay quiet, m’kay?” he asked. you nodded your head, complying to his statement while he continued to play his game. 

you clenched here and there causing choso to make little grunts and groans here and there as well. you were uncomfortable so you shifted to a more decent position. choso unexpectedly let out a short loud groan. “y-you okay?” you stuttered saying, proof that you were being filled to the brim by choso’s cock. he shook his head and continued playing as you sat there in silence, slowly falling asleep on his dick. 

from there on, choso was winning matches left and right.

2022 © originally posted by @kentofication. please do not copy, translate, repost, or plagiarize. (reblogs are appreciated!)

[yanderu-deredere]

Do any of your OCs have a Daddy kink? How would they react to either a softer shier darling or a bratty whiny darling accidentally calling them daddy?

a/n: i think some of them would react differently based on the darling's personality but i've listed it all down below the cut! have fun loool

also i think i included all my ocs that have a strong daddy kink but the ones with a more milder daddy kink have been excluded (just becos im lazy and dont want to write too much LMAO)

warning: gender neutral reader, daddy kink, mentions of entrance and being inside but no mentions of gender

gawain byrne ★ profile

absolutely melts when you call him daddy

when you call him daddy, you can do no wrong in his eyes. all your crimes? forgiven. all your punishments? forgotten. everything is right with the world LOL

i think it'd be the same with a bratty darling but like he'd be very aware that they're doing it to get away with being bratty and gawain can forgive it to a certain point

but sometimes it can't all be praise and pleasure. sometimes daddy needs to be strict too LOL

Your back arched as you felt Gawain fuck his plastic cock deeper and deeper inside of you, hitting places that made your head spin and your toes curl.

You couldn't help but clutch onto his forearms, nails probably digging into his skin, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as an orgasm ripped through you.

"D-Daddy--!" The word fell off your tongue mindlessly. You hadn't meant it and, in the heat of the moment, your desperate need got the better of you.

Once the orgasm did it's toll and you were left panting and twitching, your brain immediately caught up. Your face, which was already a little hot, seemed to turn searing as your eyes fluttered to Gawain, scared of his reaction.

You expected the rather dumbfounded slack-jawed expression and, obviously, you took it as a bad thing.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"

Gawain just pulled his cock out and tightened the straps on his harness, a sudden dark look overtaking his eyes "No, no, baby, it's okay. In fact, I really liked it."

His hand moved from your waist to fist the pillow beside your head, caging you under his body, his face getting so close that it left you a little flustered

"You want me to be your daddy, baby?" He muttered against your lips as he gave you a slight kiss, the head of his cock brushing against your still sopping entrance "Want me to take care of you and pamper you?"

You gave a small little nod, a little nervous and excited in the face of this new more aggressive side of your boyfriend.

Instead of the pleased expression you expected, Gawain cupped your chin and brushed his thumb against your lower lip "Use your words."

You felt especially shy but complied nonetheless, your voice soft and stuttering "P-Please make me c-cum again, Daddy."

A broad smirk spread across his face "Of course, anything for my baby."

ryouta watanabe ★ profile

also the same as gawain but a bit more mildly

on the outside, it doesn't look like he's being affected at all but, on the inside, he's screaming and crying and banging on his table becos he's so horny and happy LOL

doesn't let a bratty darling get away with anything if they call him daddy tho but he'll be a bit softer and more lenient becos they're so cute

You had threaded your fingers through Ryouta’s soft locks, your thighs pressing against his cheeks and your toes curling as he pressed hickey after hickey against your skin, lips hovering near where you wanted but not really giving you anything.

You couldn’t help but let out a small frustrated noise at how he was teasing you. He did it often and, though you let him most of the time, for some reason, it was a bit more irritating than normal this time around.

Your fingers tightened around his hair, your leg desperately trying to pull him close. By now, you were all edged out and your mind felt as floaty as a cloud.

“Daddy!” The word slipped your lips out of desperation but, as soon as you’d said it, your hand slapped on top of your mouth, eyes wide as if aghast at what you’d just uttered.

Ryouta, of course, immediately stopped. Normally, you would’ve protested but, at the moment, your face felt searingly hot and embarrassment boiled in your chest.

“What did you say.” His words didn’t sound like a question and, from the way he was clutching tightly to your thighs, you figured the only option you had was answer honestly.

So, shily, softly, you’d muttered the word against your hand.

Like lightning, Ryouta let go of your thigh to grip your wrist and pull it away from your mouth. “Say it again, baby.”

The nickname sent a tingle up your spine. This time, with a little bit more confidence, you repeated the word “Daddy?”

A sinful groan left Ryouta’s lips. He pressed his forehead against yours, rock hard cock settling at the crook of thigh, head brushing against your stomach.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me, baby.” He huffed out, hips jolting just a little bit.

You watched him for a second, watched the way he really seemed to almost come undone from you just saying one word.

So, hesitantly but with even more confidence, you shifted your hips, grinding up against his cock “D-Daddy, why’d you stop…”

Ryouta’s fists clenched a little and his dick twitched against you. Though, you definitely did have a point. Seems like he needed to reward his little baby…

casimir fiala ★ profile

absolutely delighted to be called daddy but, unfortunately for bratty darling, calling him daddy only makes him want to punish you more LOL

casimir really do have a sadistic streak a mile long

especially during punishments? oh, it's like you're asking him to be worse

for shier sweeter darling, he becomes incredibly gentle and loving becos his heart just melts at the fact that they called him daddy

“If you stop one more time, I’ll kill you.” You muttered to Casimir through gritted teeth, the frustration boiling and turning heady in your chest.

It felt like it’s been hours and, still, every single time you came even close to cumming, every single time that coil inside you came so very close to snapping, Casimir would stop and just leave his cock unmoving inside of you.

He’d shower you in kisses, sure, but he’d just lay on top of you, doing nothing.

Of course, his inaction delayed your orgasm every single time. It ruined it for you to the point where all you could do was squirm and complain. Yet, no orgasm.

“Is that a promise?” Was all the infuriatingly handsome man replied with, that signature sadistic smirk still spread across his stupid gorgeous face.

Your back arched, not out of pleasure but out of frustration and a desire to get away from this clown.

Instead, Casimir kept his grip around both your waist and your wrist tight, his hips finally starting to thrust his thick cock in and out of you. Slowly, surely, you felt the pleasure building up again.

This time, Casimir didn’t even wait till you were close. Just as a soft adorable moan left your lips, he stopped and opted to just grind his hips against yours, cock certainly hitting something but definitely not hard enough to tip you over the edge.

Tears pooled in the corner of your eyes and you let out a frustrated sound “Daddy!”

That made you pause. Your free hand quickly covered your mouth and you looked up at Casimir. He mirrored your rather shocked expression with one of his own.

Eventually, though, that shock made way for his usual smugness. He smirked at you, hips sluggishly starting to move and cock slowly pistoning in and out of you.

“Daddy, hmm?” He used his other hand to grip your chin and force you to look at him “And what do you want Daddy to do?”

“I want Daddy to stop fucking around and make me cum.”

Well, he could certainly oblige.

mel lowell ★ profile

like everyone else on this post, mel certainly does live for this shit lol like he eats that shit up

doesn't matter if darling is bratty or shy or sweet; he will turn savage for that word

absolutely tears shit up. like he loses his brain LOL can't do anything but fuck and fuck hard

so only save that word for when you really want mel to rearrange your guts LOL

You groaned, hands gripping the pillow under you tighter and tighter as you felt Mel continue to thrust behind you. One of his hands cupped the back of your neck, the other clutching at your waist, keeping you pressed against the mattress.

Fuck, did Mel’s cock fill you so perfectly. It never felt too big but just big enough to hit every single spot you wanted it to.

You half-buried your face into the pillow as your orgasm approached closer and closer. Your mind had practically checked-out at this point, leaving you both breathless and brainless.

Perhaps that was why you couldn’t help but mutter that damn word under your breath, your whimper almost silent.

Mel groaned and buried his entire cock into you in one stroke, his hand at the back of your neck moving to gently hold the front instead “What did you say?”

You felt embarrassed, of course, your face hot and flustered. Still, desperate for him to start moving again, you repeated the words “D-Daddy?”

Suddenly, Mel’s teeth latched onto the back of your neck. You let out a choked cry as he thrust into you almost brutally, teeth never once leaving your skin.

With every thrust, you couldn’t help but let out little punched out moans. Occasionally, you’d even slipped that word in and, every single time without fail, it made Mel treat you rougher and rougher, his hips practically shoving against yours at this point.

Then, finally, you felt his mouth leave your neck; you could feel every single tooth leave your flesh and you could feel the throb of the mark they left behind.

“Damn right, I’m your Daddy, baby.” He grunted out right into your ear, voice much deeper and gruffer than usual “And this Daddy’s cock is going to fucking fill you the hell up, yeah?”

All you could do was desperately nod.

[resolutepath]

SHIPPING INTEREST CHECK.

I'm using the summer to clean up some old dynamics that haven't been used in a while, adjust where my focus is muse wise and really take some time to explore some combos. With that being said, I want to throw a shipping interest check out there. There are some basic rules to go with this:

ONE. This is a declaration of interest not a guarantee. This is simply you saying that there is a / are muse combo(s) that you think we could explore romantically and me starting a conversation about that. Basically I reserve the right to say no.

TWO. You have to have a muse(s) in mind. My first question will be along the lines of "So who you thinking?" so please have an answer. It can be based off an established dynamic we have or two muses we have that you would like to explore the possibility of.

THREE. This is an exploration not a definite ship that we will establish. We might get a few threads in and romo just isn't working out. That's okay. It's okay to explore the possibility of romance. I like complicated dynamics, I like making the muses work it out.

FOUR. Please have some investment in this. And that's not me saying we have to talk about it every day, but this is me saying if you want to discuss it please actually be prepared for a short back and forth at least.

So that being said, if you read all that and you are still interested in cursing yourself to explore a romantic dynamic with me, please like the post and I will run around and find you either on dis.cord or on IMs.

[luvdive]

✧･ﾟ*✧･ﾟ* wanted connections *･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧

some of these are romantic, some are platonic, some could go either way. if you’re interested in any of them, give this post a little like & i’ll come ask you about it!! the ones with a little ✨ next to them are the ones i’m most interested in!!

woo wonjae ✨

i don’t have as much to write for this one lmao. from the age of 16 to 22, wonjae was an illegal underground fighter who people only ever knew as 'boy' because he wouldn't tell anyone his name. he's a loved up househusband now but i want to do more stuff from when he was a street fighter !!!

woo nawon

again now much to say on this one lmao she's interning at her dad's entertainment company i just want her to have industry friends

kim chaerim

hi can i get a boyfriend for chaerim that’s just as directionless as she is?? bonus points if he’s a musician like her & they can just have cliché jam sessions together. alternate plot, because she’s a stubborn Indie Chick™ can i get a bf for her that’s the ceo of an entertainment company or something?? someone that’s linked to the music industry but in a way that she wouldn’t jump at the chance to get a record deal u know??

jung seri ✨

seri is a full time nanny stuck in a relationship with a man that doesn't appreciate her. pspsps a single dad who needs a nanny? cue them flirting with each other (intentionally or unintentionally) until seri realises actually maybe he treats her better than her bf does

sasha shepard

mass effect. mass effect!! mass effect!!! mass effect canons, mass effect ocs, other shepards, aliens with no affiliation to the mass effect universe i don’t fucking care i just love mass effect & i want to do things with sasha already

yi wonju

tw death wonju is a pansori singer first and a witch second!! her husband was her gosu but he died </3 and now she's in need of a new one. must be okay with killing people but living forever as a result xoxo

sadie hwang

tw death lowkey based on you've reached sam & some story i saw on r/nosleep once. sadie's boyfriend died in a car accident & now every friday he calls her and she tries to save him. maybe your muse is one of her friends and is worried about her, maybe they're a new love interest, maybe if we plot it out really well they're her dead boyfriend???

kim eunji

get eunji a boyfriend 2k24 that's all

nam sangchul ✨

tw super junior fc sangchul’s former members!! tl;dr sangchul was the maknae of a boy group called attention when he was 18 until he got into a car accident & after a year of being unhappy he decided to leave the group. it’s been sixteen years & he’s managed to find something that works for him but!!! please god imagine threads w/ him & the rest of attention!! we can decide how successful they were or weren’t, whether they’re still together now or whether they disbanded, all that fun stuff

bong sungmin

ahem celebrity friends with benefits plot?? except maybe your muse catches feelings & sungmin doesn’t know how to deal with that because maybe he’s catching feelings too & trying to pretend he isn’t 🤧

shin raewon pt.1

i’m just a big old sucker for regular customer plots so like?? a girl ( or maybe a guy u know, try and catch him off guard ) that’s been coming to the cafe since it opened & knows all the staff and is just super nice & non-creepy and yeah that’s all i got man

shin raewon pt.2

raewon works at a yaoi cafe and i want coworkers for him that’s it that’s the connection. give him work pals to hang out with away from the cafe, work pals to bitch about weird customers with & gossip about customers they think are Hot™ ( except don’t let his gf find out about that bit lmao ) 

park seunghyun ✨

if you’ve seen cherry magic that’s a bonus but the tl;dr is u get magic powers if ur still a virgin by the time u turn 30. enter seunghyun, our 30 year old virgin. once again the opportunities are plentiful. nosy colleagues, overbearing family members, someone to deflower him, take your pick

aloïs fournier ✨

god how does anyone not know what’s coming for this one i have posted about it 9000 times ever since this stupid cb was announced. A SET OF CONNECTED TBZ MUSES BASED ON THE CONCEPT FOR THE STEALER BUT INSTEAD OF THIS STEALING HEARTS PUSSY SHIT THEY’RE JUST REGULAR CAREER CRIMINALS!!! aloïs is ur resident diamond thief & he’s ready 2 be in a criminal gang

bae seolwoo

tw super junior fc he's divorced! he's a high functioning alcoholic! he's a deadbeat dad! he's the perfect candidate for a university student with terrible taste in men! to talk in fanfic/booktok terms, a sappy grumpy/sunshine cliche. it doesn't have to be a university student (he's a lecturer, that's bad!) but no one in their 30s is going to tolerate him if we're being honest

kwon sanggyun ✨

sanggyun hunts monsters with his besties but only because his main bestie is super hot & sanggyun's in love with him. except seungmin (the bff) has a boyfriend or whatever ugh. what if a cunning shapeshifter pretended to be seungmin & sanggyun was none the wiser???

[azukisoul]

Translation of HijiGin manga: Diary Exchange by saki1010_gt (Twitter)

I think about this manga literally once a week because I think it's akin to something Sorachi would write, so I'm sharing a translation here!

MANGA LINK | Out of courtesy to the artist I'm not reposting her art here, please visit the tweet, refer to the translation as you read along, and show the artist some love!

And the link to the Twitter thread of this translation if anyone is interested!

Translation

[page 1]

G: Oh, so you like me, huh, Vice Chief-san?

G: That's not a good joke to go along with this alcohol.

H: Even so, this is a once-in-a-lifetime confession. Don't make light of it.

G: Hmm.

G: Well, if you say it like that,

G: I can probably answer you through a diary exchange.

H: ...

H: Okay, sure!!

[page 2]

H: Who would have thought that a man one would assume to have dysfunctional relationships like him would suggest a diary exchange?

H: 70% of the world's HijiGin starts with physical contact (based on experience), how hard to get are we being, really? Even rural middle school students are more chill in their relationships than us.

H: Still, handwriting and way with words are also treasure troves of information on one's personality.

H: Maybe it's unexpectedly also a good way to know more about this guy who is the hardest to understand in all of Gintama.

H: I gave him some questions in my first diary I passed to him so he wouldn't have too much trouble writing his, let's see what his reply is...

G: The fleeting spring is slipping away and the heat is encroaching upon us, but I hope you are doing well as you are... Or whatever, doing that each time is a pain so I'm just gonna talk normally from now on like you told me.

H: Hmph, he's unexpectedly a decent writer.

G: Um, first off, my favorite food, right? It'd have to be sweets for sure. Anko and dango are my favorites, but recently I'm into fresh cream too... Yaaawn. I woke up early today so I'm getting kind of sleepy...

H: Hm?

K: My favorite food is sukonbu.

[page 3]

K: I can eat boxes and boxes of sukonbu. I also like foods that go well with rice. Stuff like seaweed tsukudani is the best.

H: Why is the China girl the one answering!? Anyway, the diary exchange thing got completely found out by the kids! Whatever happened to his personal life!?

S: A place I'd like to go have fun at would be a Terakado Tsuu concert.

H: Glasseees!! You too!?

S: Ah, but you don't have to trouble yourself with going with me. I'll just go with the Yorozuya. You can just get us the amount of tickets we need.

H: Plus, he's rude and no fun at all!

G: Wait, what? I was dozing off and suddenly the page got filled up somehow.

H: Yorozuya, realize that you've been infiltrated by an entity called your family! And either way, why don't you read the page back a little!

G: But this kind of thing isn't bad, too. I can say stuff that are hard to say out loud here. To be honest, about you, I... I actually quite...

H: *ba-dump* Huh? Yorozuya?

[SADAHARU PAW PRINT]

G: Man, that's so out of character to say! I'll never write that again! Well, then, until next time. —Gintoki

H: THAT DOOOOOOG!!! I CAN'T READ THE MOST IMPORTANT PAAAAART!!!

[hanzaikyou]

Ikkei Yamamoto Range Analysis

I'm back with another installment of this absolute rabbithole, this time focusing on Ikkei. Now, noone's made any massive claims about the range of his vocals yet, so let's figure this out before anyone does, shall we?

The Verdict

Based on what we've seen through various stages and musicals, Ikkei has a range of C3-Ab4, roughly one and a half octaves. The upper end is more rarely heard though, with most of his songs landing at a high of F#4-G4.

The Evidence

Again, I used every possible musical I had featuring the man to analyse this, and as such there's a large concentration of Morimyu, as well as his Tenimyu run as part of the 7th Seigaku. It was a little interesting, as many of his songs in Tenimyu are group songs, so I didn't have all that many to go off there. I also had a copy of ENStars Track to Miracle, which I didn't realise until looking it up that he was in. The more you know. Instead of looking for an upper or lower in specific areas, I simply collected the highest and lowest notes in each song I analysed this time.

Lower Limit (C3)

So, I did start with Tenimyu, but the two I'd narrowed down for him (Unseen Thread and Fight&Win) both seemed on the high end of what I've heard him do, so I focused my efforts towards Morimyu.

This turned out to be a good idea, presenting me with lovely examples of his lower register. The songs were consistently hitting lows of D3 (Emotion and his duet with Fred in OP4) and Eb3 (Devotion and the Three Brothers' Secret), so I knew I was close.

But there was one final solo I wanted to look through, being OP1's A Hero's Qualification. Turned out to be a great idea - Ikkei hits his lowest note in there, at C3. Very impressed. 10/10.

Higher Limit (Ab4)

Okay, this one I was able to use the Tenimyu songs as a guide of how high to look for - Unseen Thread came in at an E4, and Fight&Win at an F#4, both of which aligned with what I had heard from him previously.

This was the point that I figured out his ENStars appearance, and managed to track down at least one of his songs - his first, which I believe was called Heartbeat by Trick Star (starting at 7 minutes in) came in at an F4, supporting my previous theories. Also the silver ponytail guy has me in a chokehold, if anyone cares to educate?

It was then I turned back to Morimyu, which gave us some higher ones. First to exceed it was Devotion (which was first because please let's be honest That's My Favourite), where he hits a G4 as part of his higher harmony at the end.

The next to exceed it was The Three Brothers' Secret, giving us our highest note at Ab4, hit as they commit arson basically ehe. It is beautifully done, and rather strong, and I'm kind of curious as to whether he could go further, given the opportunity. But that's all I have evidence for as yet, so Ab4 is to be considered the highest proven limit of Ikkei's range.

What did surprise me is the sheer similarity between Shogo and Ikkei's possible ranges - Ikkei often seems just that much lower, and he's... not? That being said, he has a very rich lower register, and as he's often paired with people who can take the higher harmony (Eiji in the Tenimyu's, Shogo... always) he gets a lot of chances to show it - I also think Ikkei's lower tone kicks in earlier than Shogo's, though I'd have to check for that specifically to back it up. Was interesting in Kokoro wo Daite, though, because by putting his solo part between Hide and Izawa, he sounds rather high pitched; same thing happened in Devotion, where he took the high harmony against Hide's lower harmony... perception really is everything with this, and I mean, he sounds lovely either way slkdf.

With two of three brothers down, I kind of want to do Kubohide next - again, I'll have a fair bit to draw on between Morimyu and Tenimyu, and I could have sworn I had something else with him in there. We'll see I guess ehe. But thankyou for reading, and see you next time~

[barclaysangel]

Some of my SCP AU because I haven’t talked about it in a long ass time:

Ms. Fairchild: Well, Andy, since you’ve met our oldest SCPs, like 009, you should meet our newest ones.

Andy: There’s new SCPs?

Ms. Fairchild: Yep, a couple. *walks into a hallway and points to a room* That’s Alexandra, we call her Lexy and her younger sister Caroline. Lexy has improved metabolism, can get out of any dangerous situation, might be immortal but it hasn’t been proven yet. She’s survived SCPs like The Weeping Angel. And her sister Caroline’s whole thing is dolls — as long as they’ve been sewed by her thread, she can do basically anything she pleases with them. That includes mental manipulation, telekinesis, etc.

Caroline: *humming and playing with a doll that looks like Lexy*

Lexy: *doing her nails*

Andy: *not getting it in the slightest*

Ms. Fairchild: …Lexy’s lucky and her sister is weird, basically. *walks away* And then we have Junior. His power is…complicated. He can sing basically anything into existence and he has a wide range. Of course, it’s extremely dangerous to have him around other kids when he gets the hiccups.

Andy: How come?

Ms. Fairchild: Wait for it.

Junior: *silent as a mouth before he hiccups and something explodes in his room*

Andy: Ah.

Ms. Fairchild: Yeah. It’s proven to explode people too so we all just keep our distances and wait it out. *walks away and points to another room* And here’s Jake. His ability is to manifest shadow like creatures based off his trauma. They can also possess him and others but Jake seems to keep them under control, mostly. They’re protective over him…in a parasitic way.

Jake: *sleeping*

Andy: Is he okay?

Ms. Fairchild: He sleeps a lot now. It’s hard constantly keeping those things from hurting anyone. *points to another room* And lastly, we have Devon. The Grim Reaper.

Andy: He…looks like a normal kid though?

Ms. Fairchild: That’s what you would think. In reality, Devon is rather…poisonous? Anyone who sees his face or touches his skin is either killed on the spot from a heart attack or something of that nature or their lifespan is shortened, and Devon can feel when he takes someone’s life span away. Thus, we have to cover his face partially and he always has to be clothed completely.

Devon: *minding his business before waving*

Ms. Fairchild: *waves back* He’s a pleasant child. A bit antisocial but very sweet and has good manners.

LOVE THIS OMG

[rphunter]

Hey! I’m 28+ looking for 19+ rp partners and I’m hoping to find someone who can play Agatha Harkness from Marvel Universe against my fem oc. I have a few ideas for possible plots, one based around WandaVision, another pre-WandaVision, I’m open to sharing and getting opinions.

I can double, but for nsfw I don’t have enough experience with mxm to be comfortable writing it yet. Fxf, mxf, nb and trans characters welcome! I’d prefer to do cc x oc for your side, I’m willing to do a select few cc x cc through

I love to add additional elements to the rps like text threads, headcanons, diary entries, etc. not a requirement though!

I’m also open to writing 2 different characters for your plot, if you’re open to writing Wanda in addition to Agatha for my side, as I do have an interesting idea that takes place in Westview that’s a bit of an AU.

Things to Keep In Mind:

Please be comfortable with some NSFW, I’m thinking either 40/60 or 30/70 for smut to plot, 20/70 if preferred.

My activity level differs, I can be active just about all day few days in a row or once or twice a week dependent on how I feel. I have medical conditions that prevent me from being active all the time, sometimes I have bad days and flare ups and need to rest. I rarely go a week without posting a response and I keep my rp partners updated. I hope that you’ll keep me updated too on your end if you’ll be off for more than a week.

I write on discord only.

I have not seen any marvel movies past multiverse of madness but I prefer not to do storylines where the plot is heavily reliant on the movies after Far From Home as it having trouble following the plot.

For the tv shows I can manage with WandaVision and Agatha All Along (still catching up on it though). I’m okay with writing characters from movies after Far From Home if the storyline isn’t based around the multiverse as I can read up on them.

Pls like if interested and I’ll reach out 💜🔮

,