#that guy from Tailor Tales

[pirunika]

pls this came for me hard 💀

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Can’t Break Tradition

cairo sweet x female reader

summary: You and Cairo are rivals in the workplace. What’s with all the tension at your holiday party?

word count: 3k

a/n: office life au. Merry Christmas!

————

“So I hear you’re still gunning for that promotion huh?”

You shrug, “Mhmm yeah” you say uninterested as your eyes dart around the lavish ballroom your company rented for the holiday party. The massive chandeliers, fancy ice sculptures, and bustling crowd do little to distract from your real focus tonight.

The rando from the IT department that you managed to find yourself in a conversation with responds. “Is that why you and Cairo have this whole thing going on?”

That gets your attention. Your gaze snaps to him, your brows furrowing slightly. “Whole thing?”

“You know what I mean,” he laughs waving his arm off like you said a joke. “Everyone knows," he says leaning in like he's about to share some juicy gossip. "I heard from Iris, who heard from Janice, who heard Winnie talking to Glenn, that apparently Cairo sabotaged your presentation last week so she could take over your clients." He finished cautiously.

Of course you knew what he meant by whole thing. Everyone in your department—Writing and Communications, knew that you and Cairo Sweet were both sworn enemies. Joining the company at the same time, in the same position, had practically set the stage for it—like fate had decided you were destined to clash.

What surprised you is that the tale of you and her had reached other departments. And considering the fact that this was the third person tonight to bring up Cairo to you, it was clear your dislike for each other hadn't gone unnoticed by anyone in the company.

As the IT guy rambled on about something, your eyes finally found what you were looking for. There she was: Cairo Sweet, standing at the top of the grand staircase. Draped in a perfectly tailored red dress that hugged her figure just right, she descended the steps with an effortless grace, completely aware to the sea of male coworkers now openly gawking at her.

You tugged at your red tie, the fabric suddenly feeling too tight against your collar, and scoffed under your breath. “Someone clearly mistook ‘holiday party’ for the Met Gala. Totally unprofessional,” you muttered, the sneer in your voice unmistakable.

“I think she looks incredible,” the IT guy said, glancing at you with a grin.

You shot him a sharp side-eye and rolled your eyes for good measure before scanning the room again. Cairo had disappeared from view, and you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of irritation as you tried to pinpoint where she’d gone.

Knowing where she was meant knowing where to avoid.

“Seriously, though,” the IT guy continued, oblivious to your distraction. “You two really know how to keep everyone entertained. I mean, the banter, the glares—it’s like you’re living in a rom-com, only without the romance part.”

You snorted, finally tearing your gaze away from the crowd. “You sure are right about that. There’s nothing romantic about Sweet. She’s all ego and sabotage wrapped in a designer dress.”

The IT guy just shrugged, clearly amused. “If you say so. Anyways, good luck with that promotion. Looks like she’s already working the room.” He pointed toward the bar, where Cairo was now standing, chatting animatedly with a group of senior managers.

You clenched your jaw, the sight of her effortless charm setting you on edge. Of course, she was already playing the game. Cairo Sweet didn’t just show up—she made sure everyone noticed her.

Determined not to let her get under your skin, you grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing server and made your way across the room. You weren’t about to let her win tonight.

But just as you reached the edge of the bar, Cairo turned, her sharp gaze locking onto yours like a heat-seeking missile. Her lips curved into a smirk, and for a moment, the air between you crackled with tension.

“Y/n,” she greeted smoothly, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. “Enjoying the party?”

“Trying to,” you shot back, your voice laced with sarcasm. “Though it’s hard to relax when certain people keep making everything about them.”

Her smirk widened, and she leaned in slightly, her voice dropping just enough for only you to hear. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, you know.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, your colleague and best friend Glenn’s voice cut in.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there, you two,” he said, stepping between you with a grin. “Can’t you at least pretend to get along for one night? It’s the holidays.”

“Tell that to her,” you said, jerking your thumb toward Cairo.

“Please,” Cairo scoffed, crossing her arms. “If anyone needs a lesson in playing nice, it’s you.”

Glenn laughed, clearly unfazed by the tension. “Classic you two. Anyway, don’t let me interrupt. Just thought I’d enjoy the show while it lasts.”

As Glenn stepped away, Cairo leaned in again, her eyes glinting with something you’ve seen countless times. “Careful, Y/n. Keep glaring at me like that, and people might think you actually care.”

With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd, leaving you standing there, your champagne untouched and your pulse racing.

“You know, for someone who claims to hate her, you sure spend a lot of time looking for her,” Glenn says turning around and rejoining the conversation, holding a drink in one hand and his trademark grin on full display.

You groaned internally. Of course, Glenn had to watch that interaction. Your best friend always had a knack for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. “Don’t start,” you muttered, shooting him a warning look.

“What? I’m just saying,” He teased, leaning casually against the nearby bar. “First thing you do when you walk into a room is look for her. It’s like clockwork.”

“I wasn’t looking for her,” you lied, adjusting your tie again.

Glenn barked out a laugh. “Right. And I’m next in line for CEO. Come on, admit it—you love the drama. You and Cairo going at it is like some kind of soap opera for this office. My sister says even her team takes bets on who’s gonna snap first.”

You rolled your eyes, though your stomach twisted at the mention of Winnie. Of course, Glenn’s sister would be involved— Cairo and Winnie were practically inseparable. And if Winnie was anything—she was observant. If Winnie was running her mouth about you and Cairo, then there was no telling what kind of nonsense the office was spinning.

“Winnie doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” you said firmly.

Glenn raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure she doesn’t. Look, I get it. Cairo can be... intense. But you’ve gotta admit, she keeps you on your toes. Maybe that’s why you’re so obsessed with hating her.”

“Obsessed?” you repeated, incredulous. “I’m not obsessed. She’s just—”

“Here we go,” Glenn interrupted with a grin, gesturing for you to continue. “Let me guess. She’s arrogant, competitive, impossible to work with—did I miss anything?”

You scowled, crossing your arms. “She’s all of that and more. Trust me, if I could avoid her, I would.”

Your friend smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “Uh-huh. Sure. But you’d be bored out of your mind without her around. Admit it, she makes things interesting.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat as your eyes found Cairo again. She was across the room now, laughing at something Winnie said, her smile lighting up the space around her.

Glenn followed your gaze and let out a low whistle. “Man, if that’s what hatred looks like, then sign me up.”

You tore your eyes away, glaring at him. “Shut up, G.”

He just laughed, clapping you on the shoulder. “Whatever you say, buddy. But if there's something else going on,” he winks, "Then feel free to confide in me."

You shook your head, as he walked off looking to network with someone that could probably make him the next CEO. You gave up on the champagne and flag the bartender down to make you something stronger.

The bartender, a sharp-eyed woman with a no-nonsense air, approached with a towel slung over her shoulder. She tilted her head, her lips quirking in an amused smile as she set a tumbler in front of you. "Let me guess—bad night already?"

You sighed, resting your elbows on the bar. "You have no idea."

As she mixed your drink, she glanced at you, her brow lifting. "You’re Y/n, right?"

You froze. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

She leaned closer, dropping her voice conspiratorially. "I’ve heard the whispers. You and Sweet." Her lips pulled into a smirk. "You guys really hate each other that much, or is it just for show?"

You groaned, rubbing a hand over your face. "Seriously? Even the bartender knows?"

She laughed, sliding your drink across the bar. "Hey, I’ve got ears. And let me tell you, office gossip is way more entertaining than the soap operas my grandma used to watch. People are saying it’s like the ultimate rivalry. You know, ‘will they or won’t they.’"

"It’s a ‘won’t they,’" you muttered, taking a sip of your drink. "Definitely a ‘won’t they.’"

The bartender shrugged, unconvinced. "If you say so. But honestly, you two sound like you’re either gonna kill each other or..." She trailed off, her smirk widening.

"Don’t even finish that sentence," you warned, pointing at her with your glass, looking around you for prying ears.

She chuckled, holding her hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I’ll drop it. For now."

As you took another sip, you glanced down the bar and froze. There she was—Cairo—leaning casually against the counter, her red dress shimmering under the dim lights. Beside her, some overly confident guy was clearly trying his luck, gesturing animatedly as he spoke. Cairo’s smile didn’t falter, but you could tell from the way her body angled slightly away from him that she wasn’t interested.

Your grip on the glass tightened.

The bartender, noticing your shift in attention, followed your gaze. "Ah, there she is. The infamous Cairo. Gotta admit, she’s got style."

The bartender then noticed her pushy company. "Looks like someone’s got her hands full."

You rolled your eyes, downing the rest of your drink in one gulp. "Yeah, well, she can handle it."

"Sure she can," the bartender said with a smirk. "But you’re still watching, aren’t you?"

You ignored the comment, setting the empty glass on the counter. "Thanks for the drink," you said curtly before standing and adjusting your tie.

Your focus already zeroed in on the scene unfolding at the other end of the bar. You knew more than anything that Cairo could handle this situation herself, but your legs had a mind of their own.

By the time you reached her, just as you’d predicted, the guy was already retreating, his shoulders slumping with dejection. Cairo’s sharp gaze followed him for a second before shifting to you. Her expression softened, ever so slightly, but her voice remained crisp.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Y/l/n?" she asked, tilting her head.

You slid into the space the guy had just vacated, leaning casually against the bar. "Just doing my civic duty. Looked like you were stuck with a walking HR complaint."

Cairo smirked, a flicker of amusement crossing her face. "And here I thought you were avoiding me tonight. How uncharacteristic of you."

You shrugged, signaling to the bartender for another drink. "Not everything’s about you, Sweet. I was thirsty."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, a playful glint hidden beneath her usual sharpness. "Right. And yet, here you are, conveniently stationed right next to me."

The bartender slides you another drink.

You met her gaze, holding it for a beat longer than necessary. "If you want to believe the universe keeps throwing us together, who am I to argue?"

"Well," she said, her voice quieter but no less cutting, "the universe must have a cruel sense of humor."

You smirked, setting your glass down. "Or it just knows how much fun we have hating each other."

She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "You have no idea."

Before you could respond, someone from your team called her name from across the room. Cairo straightened, her professional mask sliding back into place with ease.

"Looks like I’m needed," she said, her tone light but her eyes lingering on yours for just a moment too long.

"Don’t let me keep you," you said, stepping aside.

As she walked away, you couldn’t help but watch her go, the familiar mix of emotions churning in your chest.

————

The evening progressed with a blur of polite conversation and forced laughs as you navigated the crowd. Glenn eventually found you again, dragging you toward a smaller room just off the main ballroom where some of the younger employees, including Winnie, had apparently decided to congregate.

“Come on, Y/n, this is where the real party’s happening,” Glenn said, grinning as he pulled you along.

The room was cozier than the grand ballroom, with dim lighting and a more relaxed vibe. People were sprawled on couches, perched on armrests, or standing in clusters, laughing and chatting over drinks. The hum of conversation was punctuated by bursts of laughter as someone commanded the group with an animated story.

You scanned the room, and your stomach flipped when you spotted Cairo sitting comfortably on the armrest of a couch, a drink in hand and a look of mild amusement on her face as she listened to whatever Winnie was telling. Great. Of course she was here.

“Y/n!” Winnie called out, spotting you and immediately waving you over. “Come join us. We were just talking about your legendary showdown with Cairo last month.”

You rolled your eyes as Glenn shoved you toward the group. “Can we not?” you muttered, but it was too late.

Cairo’s gaze flicked to you, her expression unreadable, but you swore there was a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

The evening wore on, and the atmosphere grew increasingly relaxed as more drinks flowed. Someone turned on music, and a few people started dancing in the center of the room. Glenn, ever the life of the party, was in his element, cracking jokes and keeping everyone entertained.

Then, out of nowhere, someone shouted, “Mistletoe!”

The room fell silent as heads turned, eyes scanning for the culprits. You froze, your gaze darting up instinctively. There it was—dangling innocently from the ceiling above you. And of course when you turn to see who had occupied the space behind you—Cairo.

“Oh, this is too good,” Glenn said, his grin so wide it practically split his face. “Y/n and Cairo, under the mistletoe? This is golden.”

Winnie’s laughter rang out, and someone else whistled. “Rules are rules, you two!”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as the room erupted into cheers and chants of, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Cairo, ever composed, arched an eyebrow at you, her lips quirking into a half-smile that only you could see.

You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as every eye in the room bore into you. There was no escape, no snarky comment that could deflect this situation.

“Oh, come on, guys. I’m not trying to deal with HR on Monday,” you said with a dry laugh, taking a small step back from Cairo and the mistletoe.

From the crowd, Glenn’s voice rang out, loud and clear, “Boo! Loser! HR’s not invited to this party!”

The room erupted into laughter and cheers, with someone else shouting, “Yeah, live a little, Y/n!”

Before you could respond, Cairo rolls her eyes, and sighs dramatically like what she's about to do will take the life out of her. "I guess we can't break tradition."

And then her lips brushed yours in a soft, little more than corporate friendly, fleeting, yet enough to send a spark through your entire body kiss. The room erupted into cheers and whoops as she pulled back, her expression unreadable.

You immediately wiped your lips as Cairo turned on her heel and walked away into the crowd, leaving you standing there, dazed and entirely unsure of what the hell just happened.

You blinked, still rooted to the spot, before your feet carried you instinctively toward Glenn and Winnie. Glenn’s face lit up the moment he saw you, his mouth opening to unleash whatever snarky comment was brewing.

“Don’t,” you snapped sharply, holding up a hand, your voice laced with a warning edge that made him laugh even harder.

Winnie raised her glass in mock salute, biting back a grin. “What? No post-mistletoe debrief?”

You groaned, rubbing a hand down your face. “I hate both of you.”

Glenn smirked. “Sure you do, buddy. Sure you do.”

————

Moments later in a dimly lit private room in the venue, the faint thrum of the music from the party outside is barely audible through the thick walls. Cairo’s hands are tangled in your hair, her touch possessive and demanding as her back presses against the edge of a table. Her lips are on yours, urgent and searing, leaving no space for hesitation.

You gasp softly, breaking away just long enough to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Cairo’s dark eyes lock onto yours, her flushed face illuminated by the faint glow of fairy lights strung along the walls.

“You didn’t have to look that disgusted when you kissed me,” she breathes, her voice low but edged with challenge.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you tease, lips quirking into a smirk. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

Her expression hardens playfully, and before you can react, she grabs your red tie—the one you deliberately wore to match with her dress. She tightens it just enough around her fist to make you stumble closer—and pulls you into a kiss that obliterates any thought of teasing. It’s heated, raw, and dripping with hours of pent-up tension. Her nails rake lightly against the back of your neck as her other hand fists the fabric of your shirt, holding you close like she can’t bear to let go.

Your hands find her waist, fingers digging into the silky fabric of her dress as you kiss her back with equal fervor, pouring every ounce of your secret into the moment. The world outside could have been burning to the ground, and neither of you would have noticed.

When you finally pull away for air, your forehead rests against hers, both of you panting. A grin spreads across your face as you take in her disheveled hair and swollen lips. “Think anyone suspects us after that kiss under the mistletoe?”

Cairo shakes her head slightly, her lips barely an inch from yours. “Not a chance,” she murmurs, her voice a mix of satisfaction and mischief. “They’re too busy thinking we hate each other.”

“Good,” you reply, your grin turning sly as you capture her lips again. This time, the kiss is slower but no less passionate, a promise that this secret, this fire between you, is yours alone.

For now.

Taglist: @cobaltperun @machyishere @freakshow2501 @nwestra @mcchicken88 @101rizzlrr @snowdrop1026 @ilovesneezing069 @btay3115 @burntoutghost

[bitter-me]

Hey ! I wanted to ask for a Caelus (if you write for him) x male reader. The reader is like Alastor from Hazbin Hotel (or Medicine Pocket of Reverse 1999 if you didn't watch Hazbin Hotel/not comfortable with it).

Just some general headcanon about how they would be together.

Ignore it if you don't want to write it !!

Have a good day/night.

Caelus General Headcanon

Caelus | M. Reader as Alastor [Hazbin Hotel]

----------

"Salutations! Good to be back on the air!"

----------

First of all, the whole Astral Express will be telling him to stay away from this guy called, the Radio Demon.

They told him stories, tales, legends, all in efforts of trying to keep their newest member away from such a powerful being. One they shouldn't anger.

He kept that in mind of course, but somehow when he met you face to face he didn't even think that you're the one he's been warned about. You're just so.. friendly. With that constant smile and old time-y humor.

Penacony is an interesting place after all, so perhaps this deer-like man isn't that bad. You seem friendly enough. Plus, he wanted to have friends in this new place.

The moment he found out who you truly are, he was skeptical and felt a little betrayed. Someone he thought he could trust is... actually the last person you should ever trust.. He cut all communication after that, he just needs.. a little space.. some time to think through all of that..

Over the course of a few days, maybe even weeks. You two became acquainted once more. Long-story-short, you two started dating! Knowing how the others might react, you two kept it a secret.

How did you two meet? At The Reverie. You were walking through the corridors until some guy ran into you. How brash.. You were about to give him a piece of your mind. I mean—who in the universe has the audacity to do that to you? The Radio Demon. That is until.. you saw how pitiful he looked. Like a kicked puppy. So you decided to show mercy and leave the poor guy alone.

The second time you guys meet will be at the Dreamscape, more specifically the Golden Hour. He saw you walked out of the tailor and decided to approach you, apologizing for crashing into you and offered to treat you to some Penacony's delicacies as an apology.

Being the "kind person" you are, you accept his apology. This little apology is practically your first date.

He loves your radio voice, it has a certain appeal to it. He could listen to it all day. Even if he doesn't understand what you're saying, he will still listen just because he loves your voice.

If you tell him you have a radio program, he would listen to it all day just so he could hear your voice.

You became overprotective of the Trailblazer and so.. you sent one of your shadows to follow him. Doesn't matter what star system he's in, you'll make sure your shadow follows him and ensure your beloved's safety.

This unintentionally became a whole running joke amongst the Nameless, because no matter how many trash cans he digs through, how many times he goes through danger headfirst, how much he would do things out of impulse. Caelus never get sick nor injured. If only they knew..

Anyone who dares touch you will face the consequences, but anyone who dares touch Caelus will meet their maker.

You would sometimes send gifts with your shadows or in some rare occasion, you'll teleport to where the shadow was just to spend some time with your handsome boyfriend.

But whenever Caelus wanted to introduce you to anyone, you immediately disappeared without a trace. Where did you go?

The reveal of your relationship is filled with surprise and dismay from everyone. Caelus? Dating the Radio Demon? Did they hear that right? The Radio Demon?!

The first few weeks, maybe even months after the reveal they're still worried about Caelus. This is you after all! The Radio Demon! Why should they let their guard down around someone like you?! You could kill all of them in an instant! Especially with that smile of yours.. that uncanny smile that seems to be permanently plastered on your face...

But as time passes by, they see how you treat your beloved boyfriend and maybe.. just maybe.. you're not as bad as they originally thought..?

Will beg you to lend him your staff. He will also beg you to let him touch your ear/hair (?)

He will be your anchor, the one who will keep you grounded to reality and not go full demon mode on anyone. As much as he finds it hot whenever his boyfriend uses his powers to their fullest potential, he doesn't want anyone getting injured or dying.

He would spend a long time at the Data Bank just to learn about old history to impress you and would definitely try learning old slangs too.

He would 100% learn how to waltz just so that he could waltz with you at the Parlor Car. The phonograph plays slow music as the two of you dance along with the vast starie galaxy.

You're a demon, yes, but you're still an old soul. So he figures you would like these stuff more than let's say... Aetherium Wars. So he's going to try his best to learn these old time-y things just for you!

[misshoneyimhome]

500 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

“So you think my legs are going to magically spread for you?” I Matthew Tkachuk

Summary; Despite your mutual disinterest, as the younger sister of a Florida Panthers player, it was inevitable that you would cross paths with Matthew Tkachuk at the celebration party.

Tropes & warnings; Matthew Tkachuk x reader, enemies to lovers, player's younger sister, Stanley Cup celebration, alcohol consumption, language

Other notes; So, lovely babes, this is my first time writing for Matthew Tkachuk, so I'm beyond excited to hear what you think of it 🙏🏼 Also, this idea has been on my mind for a while, so hopefully it turned out well ✨ I really hope you enjoy it 🌺

Word count; 4.2K

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny@justwanderingbutneverlost @cixrosie

➼｡ﾟ

The Florida sun slowly sank behind the streets of Miami, casting a golden light over the lively chaos following the Florida Panthers' Stanley Cup victory. The city was buzzing with joy, fans filling the streets, waving banners, and chanting team chants. 

And as a guest at the team's exclusive post-championship party, you navigated through a sea of ecstatic family members and hockey players; the venue was a swanky club, decorated in gold and red, resembling the team’s colours.

Being the younger sister of a Panthers defensemen had its perks, but tonight, it mostly meant being pulled into conversations with unfamiliar faces. You spent the evening listening to hockey tales and politely acknowledging jokes you didn’t quite get. The loud music and constant chatter were starting to give you a headache, and you yearned for some peace.

So, leaning against the bar, you nursed a drink and tried to fade into the background. And sensing your need for a break, the bartender handed you a fresh cocktail with a sympathetic smile. You took a sip, the cool liquid a relief from the heat and noise.

However, just as you began to relax, a familiar voice broke your reverie. "Well, if it isn't y/n y/l/n," Matthew Tkachuk drawled, his smirk as irritatingly charming as ever, leaning beside you at the bar, his gaze meeting yours.

You rolled your eyes. "Tkachuk," you replied, your tone dripping with the disdain that had characterised your interactions from the start. He was a forward for the team, undeniably talented, though you’d never admit it aloud.

And even worse, he looked effortlessly handsome in a well-tailored suit that managed to be both relaxed and expensive; his tousled hair and that trademark smirk were frustratingly perfect.

"So, enjoying the party?" he asked casually, mischief glinting in his eyes.

You shrugged, trying to seem indifferent. "It's okay. More my brother’s thing than mine."

Matthew chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Yeah, I can see that. But you have to admit, it’s a pretty epic celebration."

You glanced around at the crowd, the dazzling lights, and the palpable excitement. "I suppose," you conceded. "But I’d prefer somewhere quieter."

But his smirk just simply widened. "Really? I would’ve thought you were someone who enjoys being right in the middle of everything."

You raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you think that?"

Unexpectedly,  Matthew leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a confidential tone. "Because no matter where I go, you always seem to be there."

Your eyes narrowed. "Maybe that’s because you always manage to show up where you’re not wanted."

Matthew laughed, a genuine sound that briefly eased your annoyance. "Fair point. But you know, sometimes the best things happen in unexpected places."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes once more. "Yeah, well, I’m not holding my breath for that."

_

Matthew had always managed to get under your skin. Whether it was his smug grin on that annoyingly handsome face or his undeniable skills on the ice, he exuded confidence without apology. He was the type of guy who knew his worth and flaunted it freely.

To put it bluntly, you had never particularly liked Matthew Tkachuk - well, at least, that’s what you thought. While he hadn’t directly wronged you, he was simply too much—too loud, too cocky, too... everything. His presence could dominate a room, sucking out all the air and attention effortlessly.

If you were to compare him to a fictional character, Matthew could easily pass for Prince Charming from the Shrek movies: overly self-assured, possessing a strong ego, and strikingly handsome in every way. His eyes were magnetic, his smile infectious, and his physique impeccable. He walked with a swagger that bordered on 

arrogance, and it drove you mad.

Oh, that body...

There was this one time you inadvertently caught sight of it after a training session while meeting your brother, and the image had unfortunately burned itself into your memory. He had emerged from the locker room, shirtless and still gleaming with sweat, his muscles flexing with every move.

It even intruded into your private moments, alone in your bed, right when you were on the brink of climax. The memory of his sculpted abs and the way his shorts hung low on his hips invaded your thoughts at the most inconvenient times.

You were of course incredibly embarrassed about it, not wanting to admit to anyone that you had briefly fantasised about Matthew Tkachuk. And even worse, you had to acknowledge to yourself that you had enjoyed it. The fantasy of him, his strong hands on your body, his lips against your skin, had led you to that intense pleasure that left you breathless and somewhat ashamed.

Him. Of all people.

Naturally, you tried to convince yourself it was solely the work of your vibrator. Yet, you couldn’t shake the fact that he had crossed your mind. Every time you saw him, that memory lingered in the depths of your thoughts, causing you to blush and feel a mixture of irritation and something else you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

_

As you stood there, amidst the lively atmosphere of the Stanley Cup celebration, you had to clench your thighs together and banish all lingering thoughts of him. The vibrant energy of the party coursed through your veins, yet the memory of Matthew's teasing smirk and his lingering touch persisted.

But it seemed as though he could sense your unspoken resistance. And Matthew was the type who thrived on challenges; and you were a challenge he wasn't about to shy away from. So suddenly, he was closely beside you, his breath warm against your ear, cutting through the room's clamour. "Well, I must say I didn't expect to find you here, princess. I thought you didn’t like partying with your brother's teammates?"

Your eyes narrowed. "I don’t. I'm only here for the free drinks." You tried to sound nonchalant, but deep down, you couldn’t deny the thrill his proximity brought.

Matthew chuckled, and despite your efforts, a small smile tugged at your lips. There was an undeniable magnetism in his confidence, his playful demeanour contrasting sharply with the intensity he showed on the ice. But shaking your head, you reminded yourself of all the reasons why you shouldn’t like him. He was arrogant, overly self-assured, and absolutely the last person you should find intriguing.

Yet, his husky voice once again brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Or maybe you’re just here to have a good time?”

Raising an eyebrow, you met his gaze with a defiant stare. “So you think my legs are going to magically spread for you just because we're at the same party?" you retorted, trying to regain your composure and create some distance between you.

You felt assured by your words. Maybe it was the outfit you'd chosen that gave you that extra boost of confidence — something you'd been very mindful of when putting it together; the sleek black dress you'd opted for hugged your curves perfectly. Its smooth silhouette highlighted your figure with undeniable allure, while the low neckline offered a subtle hint of cleavage, adding a touch of charm suitable for the occasion. Under the soft lights, the dress shimmered elegantly, catching the eye as you moved and subtly drawing attention.

Despite its form-fitting design, the dress fell just above the knee, striking a balance between sophistication and allure. It was a choice that exuded confidence, commanding attention without overshadowing the celebratory atmosphere of the evening. Plus, the drinks you'd been sipping for the past few hours had added to your courage.

Matthew simply raised an eyebrow, his blue-grey eyes twinkling with amusement. "Who said anything about magic?" he teased, his voice low. "But I wouldn't mind if it happened."

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. "You're unbelievable." The heat of the moment and his proximity made it difficult to think clearly, but you were determined not to let him get to you.

Matthew then leaned back, his expression turning more serious. "Look, y/n, I know we've had our differences—"

"You mean you've been a prick," you interjected, unable to hold back. It was instinctive, a defence mechanism kicking in to shield yourself from the unexpected vulnerability his seriousness revealed.

But Matthew just sighed, running a hand through his curly hair, styled into a soft, modern mullet. His eyes softened momentarily, revealing a glimpse of the person beyond the bravado. Yet, before he could say anything more, you were both pulled away to rejoin some of the others, their laughter and high spirits drawing you back into the celebration.

As the night wore on, both you and Matthew kept your distance, focusing on simply enjoying the party. You laughed, danced, and chatted with others, trying to push the encounter from your mind. Yet, every so often, you caught him glancing your way, his gaze thoughtful and intense, making your heart race all over again.

Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but be aware of him, his presence a constant hum at the back of your mind. Though the celebration continued around you, a whirlwind of joy and excitement, there was an undercurrent of something else, something that left you wondering just what Matthew Tkachuk's intentions were, and whether you were ready to find out.

It was a huge win for the Panthers. The air crackled with excitement, a chorus of cheers and celebratory shouts echoing through the room. Drinks flowed freely, and the players, including Matthew, were eager to shed the weight of the season's training rules and simply revel in their victory.

Despite their attempts to keep the celebration controlled, the intensity of the moment quickly swept everyone up. Laughter filled the air as families began to depart, leaving behind only the players and their younger siblings at the lively gathering. And in the midst of it all, Matthew felt a surge of confidence building within him.

And that’s when his eyes landed on you once again.

From across the room, he observed you with a mix of curiosity and admiration. Your laughter resonated, adding to the jubilant atmosphere as you engaged in conversation with some of the other players' siblings. Matthew couldn’t deny that there was something distinctly captivating about you tonight, a subtle allure that drew his attention and held it.

“You should hit that,” Brady, Matthew's younger brother, interjected abruptly, breaking through his thoughts.

“What?” Matthew replied, caught off guard by Brady's blunt statement.

“Go for it,” the Ottawa player teased, a mischievous glint in his eye and a slight slur to his words. “You’ve been staring at her all night. Just go for it! You know you want to.”

Matthew chuckled dismissively, shaking his head. “I haven’t been staring at her all night. I’ve barely spoken to her.”

But Brady's lips just curled into a smirk, his confidence buoyed by the alcohol swirling through his veins, amplifying his bravado as he leaned in towards Matthew. His words dripped with sarcasm, each syllable a challenge meant to goad his older brother into action.

"Sure," he scoffed, the hint of a dare in his voice. "Come on, I dare you to go ask her for a dance."

Matthew's brows furrowed slightly, his eyes narrowing in playful disbelief at Brady's persistence. A chuckle escaped his lips, a mix of amusement and mild protest.

"No way, man," Matthew replied, shaking his head with a wry grin. His brother's teasing was nothing new, but tonight, under the influence of celebration and camaraderie, it almost struck a chord.

Brady, undeterred by Matthew's initial refusal, pressed on with the banter, his voice carrying a playful challenge underscored by the sibling rivalry that defined their relationship.

"Alright, I guess if you don't want to, it’s cool," he taunted, his words tinged with mock disappointment. “I mean bro, you can be a chicken if you want to, but don't tell me you're afraid. After winning the Cup, this should be a piece of cake. Unless you're scared she'll turn you down?”

And the barb hit its mark, stirring something within Matthew's competitive spirit. His jaw set with determination; he couldn't let Brady's jibes go unanswered. As athletes, the Tkachuk brothers were no strangers to challenges and dares—each one a gauntlet thrown down, impossible to ignore.

In that moment, Matthew's resolve solidified. He couldn't allow his younger brother to mock him for shying away from a simple act like asking someone to dance. After all, he was Matthew Tkachuk, a Stanley Cup champion—this should be effortless.

So, as mature as ever, Matthew raised an eyebrow. “Fine, you want a show? Watch this.”

Brady's eyes tracked his movements with a mixture of amusement and curiosity as his older brother weaved through the jubilant crowd. The room buzzed with excitement, cheers reverberating off the walls, and the beat of celebratory music filled the air. Despite the festive atmosphere, Matthew's attention honed in on your distinct presence across the room, a singular figure amidst the sea of revelry.

However, with each deliberate step toward you, Matthew felt a peculiar weight settle on his shoulders. His heart suddenly thudded loudly in his chest, a blend of nerves and adrenaline pulsing through his veins like a current.

Wait, what? Why? he silently questioned himself, puzzled by the sudden intensity of his emotions. It was just you, after all—a person he didn't need to impress or prove himself to.

Yet, there was an undeniable pull, an intrigue that had always lurked beneath the surface, even if Matthew had never outwardly acknowledged it. Unlike other women in his life, you exuded a unique aura that captivated him. Whether at the rink before or after training sessions, patiently waiting for your brother, you seemed to radiate an effortless calm and genuine happiness. Your vibrant smile lit up the room, your spirit almost ethereal in its positivity. But it was your sharp wit, akin to a sailor's banter, and your quick-fire comebacks that left an indelible impression on Matthew.

And perhaps it was precisely this multifaceted charm that intrigued the Arizona forward more than he cared to admit.

So, as Matthew closed the gap, he mentally bolstered his confidence, preparing to gently interrupt the small talk surrounding you. 

"Hey," he said, tapping you lightly on the shoulder.

You turned, surprise flickering in your eyes before masking it with a smirk. "Back for more, Tkachuk?"

But he just grinned, leaning casually against the wall beside you. "Couldn't stay away."

"Of course not," you replied simply, rolling your eyes playfully as you tried to hide the slight flutter in your stomach that his presence stirred.

There was a brief moment of silence, a hint of awkwardness settling between you, as you both seemed unsure why Matthew had suddenly returned to talk to you. But then he broke the silence with a proposition that caught you off guard.

“How about a dance?”

“What?” you replied, genuinely baffled by his unexpected request.

“How about a dance?” Matthew repeated, his voice more confident this time, his gaze steady on yours.

You blinked in surprise, momentarily at a loss for words. This was not the Matthew Tkachuk you were used to—the cocky, overconfident player who always seemed to know how to push your buttons. This Matthew seemed... different.

Still, you weren’t about to let him off that easily. "You’re joking, right?" you replied, your tone laced with a mix of incredulity and sarcasm.

His smirk widened slightly, yet there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—determination, perhaps a hint of vulnerability. "No, I'm serious. One dance. Unless you're too scared to be seen with me."

And that did it. You never backed down from a challenge, especially not from Matthew Tkachuk. "Scared? Of you? Please."

"So, prove it," he challenged, extending his hand towards you.

With a light huff, you placed your hand in his, feeling a rush of adrenaline as he led you confidently to the centre of the makeshift dance floor. The crowd around you seemed to part, creating a space where only the pulsing beat of the music and the heat between you two existed. The deep bass reverberated through your chest, setting a rhythm that seemed to sync effortlessly with your movements alongside Matthew.

As you danced, the initial tension between you began to melt away. There was an undeniable chemistry, an unspoken understanding that drew you closer despite your history of mutual animosity. Matthew's hand on your waist guided you with a firm yet gentle touch, each step bringing you closer together physically and emotionally. The energy between you was palpable, a magnetic pull that neither of you could resist.

Despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of indifference, you suddenly found yourself swept up in the moment. The barriers you had carefully erected seemed to crumble in the face of this unexpected connection, leaving you both vulnerable yet exhilarated.

Then, as the song drew to an end, Matthew's breath warmed your ear again as he leaned in closer, his voice tinged with a hint of mischief and genuine warmth. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

You pulled back slightly, your eyes locking onto his with a mixture of defiance and something deeper—a flicker of unspoken emotions stirring within you. "I suppose not," you admitted begrudgingly, unable to ignore the rush of exhilaration that his proximity brought.

"Maybe we should do this more often," Matthew suggested, his tone playful yet his eyes revealing a sincerity that surprised you.

But you just raised an eyebrow, your guard instinctively rising. "Don't push your luck, Tkachuk."

He chuckled softly, "fair enough, y/n. Fair enough."

As you then turned to leave the dance floor, determined to regain your composure amidst the fluttering in your stomach—just like when you felt your very first crush—fate decided to intervene in the form of a clumsy collision. Another large body bumped into you, causing their drink to spill onto your dress, and you stumbled backwards, only to find yourself caught by Matthew's quick reflexes.

"Whoa there," Matthew's voice was calm, his arms wrapped securely around you. "Are you alright?"

Once again you met his blue-grey eyes, and you felt your heart racing as you momentarily lost yourself in their depths. "Yeah, I'm fine," you managed to say, your voice revealing a breathlessness you couldn't conceal. "Thanks."

Matthew steadied you, his hands lingering on your waist a fraction longer than necessary, stirring a warmth that spread through you. "No worries," he replied softly, his gaze holding yours with a gentle intensity. "But you can always just say it if you can't resist me."

Rolling your eyes in mock exasperation to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks, you teased back, "Don't flatter yourself, Tkachuk. It was just an accident."

His grin widened, mischief glinting in his eyes. "Sure, sure," he responded, his playful manner unwavering. "But accidents can lead to interesting places."

Unable to stifle a laugh at his persistence, you shook your head with amusement. "You're impossible."

"And yet, here we are," Matthew countered, his tone light but his eyes holding a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat.

But before you could reply, your brother appeared, slightly tipsy and curious. "Hey y/n, everything alright here?" he asked, eyeing you and Matthew with interest.

"Yeah, all good," you replied quickly, stepping back from Matthew's embrace. "Just a minor collision."

Your brother raised an eyebrow but chose not to press further. "Alright, just checking. You know how wild these parties can get."

"Yeah, I know," you agreed, grateful for the interruption. "Thanks."

As your brother then wandered off, Matthew turned to you with a more serious expression. "How about we leave?"

"What?" you asked, surprised by his sudden suggestion.

"Let's get out of here," he repeated, his voice soft but resolute.

Confusion mixed with a touch of curiosity as Matthew took your hand, leading you away from the bustling crowd. Despite your uncertainty, you were drawn to his calm assurance, ready to follow wherever this unexpected night might lead.

Matthew guided you out of the noisy room, his hand warm and firm in yours, fingers intertwined as if they naturally belonged that way. The sounds of the party gradually faded as you stepped into the cool night air, a refreshing change from the warmth and noise inside. You followed him down a path that veered away from the venue, guided by the gentle moonlight casting soft shadows around you.

"Where are we heading?"

He glanced back at you, a mischievous yet reassuring smile playing on his lips. "Just trust me. It’s… quieter."

You walked together in comfortable silence, the lively sounds of the city night slowly giving way to the distant crash of waves. After a few minutes, you arrived at a secluded spot overlooking the beach, the peaceful scene illuminated by the moon's soft glow. The rhythmic sound of waves brushing against the shore provided a soothing backdrop, while stars sparkled brightly above, mirroring the newfound excitement in your heart.

"This is... nice," you confessed softly, taking in the tranquil beauty surrounding you.

Matthew shrugged casually, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the sea met the sky. "Sometimes it's good to escape all the noise. Clears the mind."

You nodded in agreement, savouring the calmness that enveloped both of you. "Yeah, it does."

Standing side by side, immersed in the serene atmosphere, you sensed a shift in the air. It was a moment suspended in time, where words felt unnecessary yet emotions spoke volumes. Despite the unexpectedness of being alone with Matthew Tkachuk, someone you often clashed with, there was an unspoken understanding between you now.

Then, almost as if to break the tension or perhaps to fully embrace it, you spoke up, your voice teasing yet tinged with uncertainty. "Listen, Tkachuk, if you're planning to kidnap me —"

"Then what?" Matthew interrupted, a playful smirk dancing on his lips as he turned and closed the distance between you, his tall figure towering over you. "What would you do if I did kidnap you, huh?" he challenged, his tone teasing yet carrying a hint of something deeper.

You were momentarily stunned into silence, caught off guard by his unexpected boldness.

"Lost for words?" Matthew teased further, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he observed your reaction, his presence exerting a magnetic pull that left you slightly breathless.

"N-no," you managed to stammer out, your mind racing to process the whirlwind of emotions. "I'm just... not sure why you suddenly wanted to be alone with me like this."

Matthew paused, pressing his lips together and his expression softening as he considered his response, his gaze unwaveringly locked with yours.

"Lost for words?" you teased back gently. "I mean, you could have just—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Matthew leaned in and kissed you, a sudden gesture that completely took you by surprise yet somehow felt inevitable. The abruptness made your knees weaken momentarily, leaving you stunned. But then, driven by a newfound desire, you found yourself responding to the kiss, your hands instinctively gripping the front of his shirt.

Matthew cupped your face tenderly with his hands, sending a rush of warmth through you. The kiss was filled with urgency, conveying emotions that words had failed to capture. It was everything unexpected yet strangely fitting.

And when he then pulled back, both of you were breathless, chests rising and falling together. His forehead rested gently against yours, and as you looked into his eyes, you saw a mix of vulnerability and determination that mirrored your own inner turmoil.

"I wanted to be alone with you because... I can't get you out of my head," Matthew confessed softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to shatter the fragile moment between you. "You drive me crazy in ways I can't explain. I just... needed you to know that."

Your heart raced at his honesty, a swirl of emotions overwhelming you. This was Matthew Tkachuk—the guy who always managed to push your buttons—now standing before you with a vulnerability that felt disarmingly real.

"I..." you began, struggling to find words that matched the intensity of the moment. "I've been thinking about you too. More than I'd like to admit."

His eyes brightened with hope and relief upon hearing your confession, a gentle smile forming at the corners of his lips. "So, what do we do now?" he asked softly, his thumb delicately caressing your cheek, anchoring you in the present moment.

You returned his smile, genuine joy spreading across your face. "I suppose we see where this takes us. No more arguing, no more games. Just... us."

Matthew's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with happiness and anticipation. "I like the sound of that."

He then kissed you again, slower this time, his lips conveying a promise of newfound connection and unspoken possibilities. When you finally pulled away, the world around you felt different—brighter, filled with potential.

And as you walked hand in hand back towards the distant sounds of music and laughter, there was a renewed energy crackling between you. You knew your brother would notice the change immediately. Always protective, he might initially confront Matthew, but you trusted him to ultimately understand.

[cottonlemonade]

Mayhem At The Festival

word count: 630 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: Matsukawa x chubby!Reader (feat. Seijoh 4)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: I take a menu A with a soda and a matcha roll and sit next to Mattsun || fluffy school festival with crush Mattsun

The Seijoh four’s laughter could be heard all the way down the corridor of Aoba Johsai High School. Well, not all of them. Between Makki gasping for air and clutching his stomach, Iwaizumi starting to wheeze, hanging off of Oikawa’s shoulder who was holding up his phone requesting a few cute poses, Mattsun did not have a good time.

To be fair, it was foolish of him to think his friends would not tease him for this - or that a picture of him wouldn’t be in the next issue of the school paper. Bemused he tugged at the skirt that barely came down to his mid-thigh and looked around the room of his classmates in more or less obvious and failed attempts to hide their howling laughter. And all of that just to help you out.

When you had come in that morning for the festival, everyone swarmed around you, asking with much concern how your arm ended up in a sling. You had quickly relayed the tale of your way to school and how some guy on a motorbike didn’t think it necessary to follow basic driving rules, having grazed you on your bicycle and sending you tumbling down an embankment.

Luckily it was nothing more serious, but a sprained wrist and elbow would definitely keep you from any possible manual labor today. Your shoulders slumped. You had been looking forward to the festival for weeks, especially when the sewing club revealed the costumes for the maid café. You swore you would wear the adorable uniform whenever you could because how often did a chubby girl with more curves than any roadmap find a maid costume tailored to her exact specifications. In your mind you had seen yourself gliding through the many guests of the little café attraction set up in classroom 3-2 and privately hoped that Issei would forget his duties with the volleyball team and come visit as well. In your imagination he wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off you and you would wow him with your dazzling smile and maid persona, laying it on extra thick just for him. But all that lovely daydreaming was shattered because someone ignored a red light.

Much to your surprise, however, Issei had broken the morose silence that followed your apology to the event coordinator and blurted out he would take your place.

No one took him seriously at first, of course, but when he didn’t join in the giggles and chuckles around the room, the class president had looked him up and down, squinted (possibly imagining him in the costume) and just nodded with a shrug.

After a good 15 minutes of more laughing and one joke after the other the students started to scatter, getting back to their original tasks. Mattsun sulked in a corner, shifting uncomfortably in the costume but brightened quite a bit when he spotted you coming over to him.

“Thank you so much.”, you said and he took a few seconds to answer, being too distracted by the blush on your cheeks.

“I’d say “no problem” but that would be a lie.”, he replied and you laughed.

“I can make it up to you!”, you said quickly.

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded, thinking he would probably want to be reimbursed for the physical and mental trauma ahead in his day.

“I could… do your homework for a week… or… take over during your cleaning duties once my arm heals or…”

“Go out with me?”

You gasped, then coughed violently at having swallowed too much air. He gave an embarrassed frown and pouted.

“Yes.”, you pressed out between coughs, “Yes, I’d love to.”

“Good.”, he beamed, “Then, my lady-”, he got into maid character, “may I pour you some water to soothe your throat?”

a/n: I had the best time writing this silliness ^^ thank you so much for the request @makkir0ll - I hope you enjoyed it 🌟🫶🏻

[brokehorrorfan]

Crimson Peak will be released on 4K Ultra HD on May 21 via Arrow Video. Guy Davis, the film’s concept artist, designed the packaging for the 2015 Gothic horror/romance.

Master of horror Guillermo del Toro directs from a script he co-wrote with frequent collaborator Matthew Robbins (Mimic, Pinocchio). Mia Wasikowska, Jessica Chastain, Tom Hiddleston, Charlie Hunnam, and Jim Beaver star.

The limited edition set comes with a double-sided fold-out poster, four double-sided postcards, and an 80-page book featuring writings by David Jenkins and Simon Abrams, an interview with Guillermo del Toro, and conceptual illustrations by Guy Davis and Oscar Chichoni, all housed in a slipcase.

Crimson Peak is presented in 4K with Dolby Vision, approved by del Toro, and original DTS:X Master Audio sound. Special features are listed below, where you can also see the full packaging.

Special features:

Audio commentary by director/co-writer Guillermo Del Toro

The House is Alive: Constructing Crimson Peak - Feature-length documentary with cast and crew interviews and behind the scenes footage

Spanish-language interview with Guillermo Del Toro

The Gothic Corridor; The Scullery; The Red Clay Mines; The Limbo Fog Set - Four featurettes on Allerdale Hall

A Primer on Gothic Romance featurette

The Light and Dark of Crimson Peak featurette

Hand Tailored Gothic featurette

A Living Thing featurette

Crimson Phantoms featurette

Beware of Crimson Peak - Walking tour of Allerdale Hall with Tom Hiddleston

Interview with film historian Kim Newman

Violence and Beauty in Guillermo Del Toro’s Gothic Fairy Tale Films - Video essay by the film historian Kat Ellinger

Deleted scenes

Original trailers and TV spots

Also included:

Double-sided foldout poster

Four double-sided postcards

80-page, hard-bound book with writing by David Jenkins and Simon Abrams, an interview with Guillermo del Toro, and conceptual illustrations by artists Guy Davis and Oscar Chichoni

Beginning in Buffalo, New York, during the 1880s, Crimson Peak follows Edith Cushing (Mia Wasikowska), an aspiring writer who is haunted by the death of her mother. Edith’s falls in love with seductive stranger Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston), who whisks her off to Allerdale Hall, his baronial, yet dilapidated English mansion built upon a mountain of blood-red clay. Here Edith meets Lucille (Jessica Chastain), Thomas’s sister who at times seems hostile and jealous. As Edith struggles to feel at home in the imposing residence, she gradually uncovers a horrendous family secret and encounters supernatural forces that will help her discover the terrible truth behind Crimson Peak.

Pre-order Crimson Peak.

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 鬓边不是海棠红/Winter Begonia

Winter Begonia is the tale of the intertwined lives of a wealthy, westernized businessman and a bratty, dramatic Peking Opera performer as they navigate the historical landscape of 1930s China.

It is a slow historical ramble of a show, to the point where I couldn't really say it has a single plot. Events just happen in their lives, and the show follows them with a pleasant steadiness. Characters go away, and sometimes they come back. Interpersonal conflicts rise and then get resolved. Sometimes you just get to sit and watch part of an opera happen. The last third of the show develops a slightly more cohesive narrative, but even then, it's still mostly a loose constellation of events related to larger goings-on in the culture.

So if you're looking for tight plots and fast-paced action, you'll want to look somewhere else. But if you're the kind of person who likes to wrap up sometimes in a gentle warm blanket of a beautiful show, I have five reasons you should give this one a try.

1. Oh, they're in love

Perhaps the most notable thing about Cheng Fengtai and Shang Xirui is that they spend the entire show smiling at one another, staring longingly at one another, and/or making each other laugh.

A lot of danmei couples depend on having at least one partner who, if not outright tsundere, is at least stoically long-suffering -- which is romantic, sure, but also exhausting in real life. These two read about as married as any danmei pair I've ever seen because they make one another smile all the time. They're incredibly touchy and affectionate from basically the moment they meet. They're not just in love, they actually like one another.

Now, don't get me wrong: These two are both absolute exhausting gremlins who deserve one another so they don't have to be anyone else's problems. But they're good-natured enough about their respective gremlin natures that when one of them lets loose with his rascality, the other tends to think it's hilarious.

They don't even have the mandated danmei breakup! They're never mad at one another for more than the length of an episode. Most of the time they're just refreshingly normal about one another (or, you know, about as normal as two drama queens can be). And when they're being not normal about one another, it's because the circumstances they are currently enduring are not normal either.

They're so in love that by the time you get to the last episode, everyone in their lives is like, gee, those two sure are in love. For the main couple in a Chinese-censored BL adaptation? That's pretty darn in love.

2. The costumes!!!

Of course I have to gush over the costumes. Several major characters are professional opera performers, and their wardrobes are just stunning in complexity and detail -- and accuracy, apparently.

But they're not even where all of the wardrobe budget went! Everyone looks great, from the dapper upper class to the household servants to the street performers.

I also can't get over how everyone looks so cozy in their winter outfits. The show really wants to hammer home how cold Beijing is, and so most non-opera clothes are either heavily quilted or furry. Not a single outfit in this show is slimming (except maybe for some of the gorgeous gowns Cheng Meixin wears). It's all about conserving body heat, which means a lot of people walk around basically wearing mildly tailored quilts all the time. I love it. I envy it.

3. Oops! All bottoms!

This is a show of very soft men. It helps that very many of them have spent their whole lives playing female roles, but even those that haven't tend to be pretty darn soft.

(And I'm not even talking about the way people keep handing Cheng Fengtai babies and he loves it.)

Du Luocheng and Shang Xirui are absolutely what happens when you get two soft gay guys who are kinda into one another, but they're both too lazy to top, so they just become best friends instead.

Fan Lian stands as a testament to how you can be the only heterosexual in the show and still be soft as hell.

The old married gays. Softness level: off the charts.

Chen Renxiang's role is that of the opera frenemy, and he's incredibly soft about it. (This actor is also apparently in the Sha Po Lang live-action adaptation! Maybe someday it will be released...)

Opera underling La Yuehong hardens up later in the show, but even when he does, there's still a tragic softness to it.

Even the baddies are soft! Pretty much all the rival opera bitches fall into the "love to hate" category -- and nearly all of them win at least some sympathy from you before they leave the story for good.

There's one more soft boy whose presence surprised me, and that is Xue Zhicheng/Kujo Kazuma, a sympathetic Japanese character. Every other Japanese character in the show is sinister somehow -- not surprising, considering the drama is set during the brutal Japanese occupation of Beiping/Beijing.

But this little guy is a gentle, well-meaning opera fan who just wants to watch his favorite performers! When his actions cause trouble, it's only because he's so well-meaning that he couldn't see how anyone could disapprove of his attempts at cross-cultural undertanding. He even comes to the rescue a few times, at significant personal cost!

Moreover, the show uses him to make it clear that there's a difference between the Japanese occupying force and Japanese people and culture. In fact, the show is pretty critical of people who conflate the two and use interest in the latter as evidence of support of the former. That is not a level of nuance I've seen from other dramas set in this time period, and I was pleased to see it.

In conclusion, the critial war shortage in 1930s Beijing was not food or medicine or ammunition, but tops.

4. A whole lotta ladies

Again, not even counting the fact that one of the two main guys, many of his buddies, all of his heroes, and several of the antagonists professionally dress as women.

The most notable of them is Cheng Fengtai’s wife, Fan Xiang'er. They've been married for years by the time the show starts, and they have a son together. Theirs is an arranged marriage that they've managed to make work so well that they've actually wound up liking one another ... most of the time. Remember what I said earlier about his being exhausting? She knows that better than anyone.

(Sidebar: If you are uncomfortable with a love story where one of the participants is canonically married to someone else, this may be one you want to skip. That said, there are several male characters in this show who have multiple wives and/or mistresses, so the metric of what counts as infidelity in this setting is ... loose.)

Beyond her, though, there are many more female supporting characters in this show, from all different socioeconomic levels, in all different kinds of situations.

A caveat: Some of the women (one in particular) are at times frustrating as hell because they're too often written as jealous shrews who believe all the terrible gossip they hear and act on it without having actual adult conversations with anyone first. I dislike this trope, mostly because it relies on making some smart women artificially very stupid for the sake of forwarding the plot. I have little patience for situations that could have been solved five episodes ago if somebody had just been willing to ask clarifying questions.

That said, I can't be too mad about that, because there are many, many more women who are not written like that. Some of them are good and loyal! Some are sneaky and self-interested! Some are callous and manipulative! Some are meek and traumatized! Some make terrible decisions! Some make terrible decisions but, like, you get it! You know, just like in real life?

The answer to better representation is almost always more representation. When a character is the only one of whatever they are, everything they do is kind of an indictment of that category, especially when that category has a history of stereotypical negative representation. When there are several others, the characters stop being representatives of that category and start being just plain characters.

5. It just feels good to watch

Don't misunderstand: This is not a happy fun time show where everything in sunshine and roses all the way down. There are plenty of tense and emotional parts. Not everyone we like makes it out of the drama alive. Not all love stories get a happily ever after. People disappoint one another all the time. Awful things happen when soldiers occupy civilian populations. Poverty is a bitch.

But the show itself remains a nice viewing experience. It's absolutely a feast for the senses, what with all the music and costumes and sets and props and old-fashioned cars and everything.

The story is very straightforward. It's never trying to do any complex schemes or mislead you before some big reveal. I imagine this could be a good show to put on in the background while you're doing something else. You're never going to be too desperately confused about what's going on if you zone out for a minute -- and if you are, just hang on for a bit, because by next episode, it'll probably be onto whatever storyline comes next.

I have not read the novel, and I cannot judge anything against its standards. However, my friend who has read parts of the novel tells me that the adaptation is much preferable, because in the novel, you get to hear everyone's internal narration -- and everyone's internal narration makes it clear they're all bratty, insufferable assholes. That is not the case here! Or, rather, they are often bratty and/or insufferable, but from outside their heads, it's a lot more charming.

Finally, it's legitimately a very good love story. Shang Xirui is the only person in Cheng Fengtai's life who loves him for who he is, not what someone else needs him to be. Cheng Fengtai goes from being enraptured by this beautiful little weirdo to basically wanting to wife him. They spend a lot of time taking care of one another, sometimes in the only ways they know how. They're capable of operating independently -- there are several episodes where their storylines diverge completely -- but they'd prefer not to. They've just each found their soulmate, and that's all there is to it. (The red thumbprint in the palm is about the most romantic thing I've ever seen.)

I'm a little surprised by how little I hear English-speaking fandom talk about this one, especially since (see below) it's a widely available, high-budget show that even has a Shang Xirui figurine, and there's no question about how in gay love these two are. But if you hop over to AO3, there's only 257 works total in the Winter Begonia tag, a scant 57 of which are in English, and if you've tried looking into the Winter Begonia tag on Tumblr, you know it's pretty quiet 'round here.

I can't be sure, but I'd assume that's partly because this is both a) a relatively low-stakes drama, and b) so enmeshed with actual historical events and concepts that you'd have to do at least a baseline amount of research before making any fan media. I would imagine that for some folk, this is a barrier to entry.

And it is 49 slow, gentle episodes long. I saw Tumblr posts asking which episodes are important, because the posters don't want to or can't commit to watching the whole thing. But the answer is ... all of them? none of them? There's no plot you'd be getting or missing with specific episodes. There are very few things I can think of that would even qualify as spoilers. It's just a walk through a couple very eventful years in the main pair's lives. I understand if folk aren't up for that, but if you are, this is really a gem.

Have I convinced you to give it a try?

I would say that Winter Begonia is perhaps the most easily watchable of any c-drama I've come across. Here's where you can find it:

iQiyi

Viki

Amazon Prime

YouTube

We watched most of it on YouTube, where the subs were perfectly fine. However, there was one episode where we had to switch platforms because the English subs were all out of synch, so we went to Amazon and they were fine there too. Other than that, I don't really have a sense of which translation experience is the best. Try them all!

(PS: If you feel like putting on a tinfoil hat, I'm just going to say, they look at one another like that in real life, too.)

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 18

Part 17

He’d heard stories from Dustin and the others about the tales Eddie made up for them. But hearsay was different from actually experiencing it. There was a quick review, a recap that Steve could tell was purely for him, someone who hadn’t been present for the previous tellings. And then they were off.

Eddie started off sitting but didn’t stay still for long. He moved like a man possessed as he weaved the next part of the story. His voice and his mannerisms changed depending on who he was speaking for. An old innkeeper had a withery tone and moved like a frail elder. But then he was a seamstress, with a soothing voice and an elegant way about her movements and gestures. The only time he stopped was when he paused to ask the others what their characters would do in the situation they found themselves in. 

“Stop trying to tell Will what to do, he knows what he should do”, Lucas said.

“Obviously he doesn’t if he hasn’t made a move yet”, Mike said, not backing down.

“You guys aren’t considering every angle”, Will said. “If I go on the offensive, we can cut through, but at the risk of all our stamina. If I go on the defensive, we risk running out of time.”

“And we NEED to save Max and El”, Dustin reminded them.

Max scoffed. “Who said we need saving? El’s working on the lock right now and I can zoom us out.”

“Your confidence is admirable, but misguided”, Mike deadpanned, flinching when Max lunged forward for a fake out punch.

She snorted and gave him a five finger love tap anyway. Eddie watched them all with a devilish grin, probably the most mischievous Steve had ever seen him before they finally came to a decision. The story moved on and ended with a cliffhanger of the boys making it to the wizard’s tower just as the girls broke free of their cage.

“And that is where we shall leave things tonight”, Eddie said, his smile only widening at the groans and boos thrown his way.

“We’re literally crashing through his doors! You can’t end it there!”, Dustin exclaimed.

“You always do this”, Lucas agreed. “You get some sort of fun out of leaving us hanging off the edge.”

Eddie stood up and brushed some imaginary dust off his pants. “That’s my creed, always leave them wanting more. Now off to bed with you.”

With more groaning and moaning, the kids trudged off. Rubbing their eyes and biting back yawns despite denials of being sleepy. Steve stood as well, hanging back just a bit until they were alone.

“So this is a bedtime ritual?”, he asked. “Seems counterintuitive to get them so riled up before bed.”

“Started out that way”, Eddie said. “Grew into this. And what’s wrong with filling their heads with visions of adventure and feats of bravery before they go off to dream land?”

“Well, I must say you’re a master storyteller.”

Eddie moved from his chair and around the table. “We could make a character for you as well, little prince.”

Steve thought about how involved the children got with the story and how there seemed to be rules on who they could interact with and how. It all appeared very technical. He was rather certain they were performing equations in their head while doing it too. 

“I think I’ll pass. I wouldn’t want to ruin the flow of your story.”

When Eddie came to stand near him, Steve started towards the door and they easily fell into step next to each other. Standing this close no longer struck fear in his heart. Steve was beginning to understand that regardless of all else, King Edward, Eddie… was just a man. A man who cared about his subjects, about those in his care. Who did things to make them happy. Things like ordering tailored outfits for them.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to learn more about you-your kingdom. And how it all works.”

“How what all works?”, Eddie asked.

“The beasts at your disposal. The conflict between our two lands is mostly because of them. But your people don’t seem to be afraid despite living closer to them.”

“I know just the perfect teacher for you”, Eddie said as they got to Steve’s door.

Steve imagined Eddie taking him out into the woods again, allowing him to see the beasts face to face and learn first hand what made them so unique. He imagined also getting to know Eddie better. Many parts of him were still a mystery.

So he was a little disappointed the next day when a knock came on his door and it was not Eddie.

“You’re not Eddie.”

“No, I’m Scott Clarke. His Majesty has tasked me with your education. You can call me Mr. Clarke, the rest of the kids do.”

Steve had heard that name here and there from the kids, one of the castle tutors, the one they liked the most. Even so, it felt a little juvenile to be sat down in the library and looked over books and diagrams of something he had already seen with his own eyes.

“You might notice, Your Highness, that tensions rise between our lands mostly in the fall and winter. That is no coincidence. Demobeasts go into hibernation once spring begins and the weather starts to warm up. That doesn’t mean you won’t see the odd one out, perhaps to get a little snack in between its long sleep, but for the most part…”

Steve tried his best to pay attention, he really did. But he wasn’t much for book learning. He got by long enough to learn the basics, but he learned better by doing. Hands on sort of experiences. He tried sitting in Clarke’s lessons for a few days before getting sick of it and finally seeking Eddie out himself.

“You know, when I asked to learn more about your kingdom, I expected to learn from the king”, Steve said when he caught Eddie in the hallway.

“Ah, a king’s work is never done. I thought to give you a man whose knowledge rivals my own. If you wanted some special attention from me, all you had to do is say so.”

They were at least three feet apart and yet Steve felt pinned down by that gaze. It had been a while since he and Eddie had been alone. What would a private tutoring session even look like? Would Steve be able to focus on the actual lesson or…

“I wanted to learn about you too”, he admitted quietly before clearing his throat and speaking more confidently. “So you won’t teach me yourself?”

“I think if you really want to learn, you need to open your ears”, Eddie said. 

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

Steve took to asking others about Eddie instead. About his abilities, about his past, about everything. He spoke to Robin first, hoping to get the most straightforward answer.

“What’s there to say? He’s super old, he’s been ruling since forever, he can shapeshift and control beasts. You know the rest, total joker underneath it all.”

“How long have you known him?”, Steve asked.

“A few years. My mom was less than thrilled that I share affections with other women and I had to find a place to stay. Eddie let me in and the rest is history.”

When he asked Dustin it would’ve been easier to list the things Eddie wasn’t capable of. Changing into any creature imaginable, the power of flight, of sight beyond sight, whatever that meant. It got to the point where Steve was sure he was making things up.

“Next you’re going to tell me he’s an incredible dancer and can cook too.”

“Actually, he can’t do any of those things”, Dustin said. “He does this weird jig that makes his legs look broken and everything he makes comes out either under or overcooked.”

Well, that was a couple supposed flaws. But it didn’t really give him a better image of Eddie. He thought to question the other kids and got very similar answers. The boys practically worshiped the ground he walked on. El spoke reverently as well but didn’t really talk about how she and Eddie had met. Max was less impressed by the feats Eddie had accomplished but despite everything, she respected him.

It wasn’t lost on Steve that most of these children rarely mentioned their parents. Dustin’s mother worked in the kitchen and only after asking directly did Lucas reveal he had a family that lived in the town. But the others were still an enigma. Just as he thought to press deeper, Nancy shoved him against the wall.

“Hey what-”

“Why are you interrogating everyone?”

“Interrogating? Does it look like that?”

“You’re asking personal questions. A lot of them people might not want to answer”, Nancy said, glaring at him.

“I’m just trying to understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Everything? Everyone? People have always said I’m an idiot and for once I’m trying to fix that.” 

Nancy glared and crossed her arms. “Sometimes people aren’t so open to sharing. I hope you understand that.”

“I do.”

Her expression softened just a little. “A lot of us have things we want to hide. That’s why we’re here-Eddie-he-he lets us live the way we want. Without fear. That’s the most important thing. At least in my opinion.”

Steve nodded. “I understand.” 

And he did. He just wished to know, to really know, to be…well a part of it all. Sometimes it still felt like he was on the outside looking in. He was sitting by his window, gazing up at the stars, wondering what else was missing. Just about all his needs were being met. He was getting closer with everyone. And yet there was still this itch under his skin. He felt silly the next morning, but it took a hazy dream of hands and lips and then waking up to his own erection to realize what he had been hungry for.

Part 19

Tag Team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent  @snakeorsquid  @ignoremyworld  @theclichefortunecookie 

@goodolefashionedloverboi  @just-a-tiny-void  @0body0disphoria0  @cinnamon-mushroomabomination  @samsoble 

@jamieweasley13  @y4r3luv  @xtkxkrzrizir  @un-knownperson  @greekgeek24 

@justdrugsformethanks  @potato-of-the-lord  @notaqueenakhaleesi  @swimmingbirdrunningrock  @queenie-ofthe-void 

@nebulainajar  @lil-gremlin-things  @nicememerino  @robininblue  @hornedqueenofhell 

@anne-bennett-cosplayer  @moomkin77  @here4thetrama  @bookworm0690  @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane

[supernatural-dreamer]

The Unnatural and Unexpected (Embry Call x Black! Reader)

A/N: Hey you guys! Guess who’s back..back again! I had a few ideas in my head and want to put it out there..I thought about turning this into a series and expanding it further. Leave a comment if I should … as always like, comment and follow… let me know what you think!

This is set during Eclipse around newborn battle. This is tailored for a African American/Black female reader specifically, however all are welcome to read..

~Lauren

—

Part 2

Masterlist

—

Imagine being Embry’s imprint and tagging along with the wolves to their newborn training session. However, you’re always in for an unexpected surprise when you’re around Bella..

People had a lot of different opinions when it came to you. There was one trait, everyone seemed to agree that you possessed:

You were a skeptic. 

Hell, you didn’t even really believe in the Easter bunny or Santa Claus when you were a kid. Magic? Please. Vampires and wolves, no such thing. 

You should’ve known when your family moved to a sleepy ass town straight out of a mystery novel you would be wrong. Dead ass wrong. When the new girl, Bella, befriended you, normal flew out of the window the same time she did last year.     

She dragged you to La Push after the Cullen’s had left the prior year. It was there you were introduced to Jacob, Quil and Embry. You instantly took a liking to La Push, the boys -and particularly Embry. Unexpectedly, they took a liking to you too. 

From then on, you found yourself gravitating more towards the reservation; the tranquil beaches reminding you of your previous Floridan home. You just felt a connection there that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

She also dragged you to Jacob’s house after HE stopped talking to her. 

It was at this point you honestly had to question what this girl was doing to cause people to run away from her like the plague. I mean it wasn’t just a few, but groups of people seemed to just up and cut off ties with her, seemingly overnight

However, after quickly realizing her propensity for sticking her nose in places she probably shouldn’t, it started to make a little more sense. Though, you would be lying if you said that you weren't a tiny bit curious as to what exactly she stumbled upon. 

A group of people that could secretly shift into giant wolves was not at all  on that list of possibilities. 

You being an imprint to one of those shifters? Never even dreamed about it. 

Although, you weren't too upset at the unexpected revelation this time.

She dragged you to the Cullen’s when they returned a few months ago. Outside of Bella’s tales of her interactions with them, you didn’t really hang around or know much about them. You had a few of the members in your class and one of them as a science lab partner a few months back. They were slightly off and distant at first but after you got to a place of polite conversation, you chalked it up to just shyness. When you found out they were vampires, naturally, you didn’t believe her– until you found out about the wolves.

 Suddenly, their isolation and behavior made sense. After that, you never really looked at them the same.

Knowing both vampires and shifters even existed in itself was a shock.  Learning about their sheer abilities was slightly terrifying. You’d be lying if you said being around them didn’t make you feel a little more..vulnerable. Although Bella felt differently, you didn’t like that if things went left for whatever reason, you could be snapped into two with zero hesitation. The only way you could gain any control over this is by immersing yourself into the world of the supernatural at your pace. 

It is why when Embry told you you were his imprint, as much as you liked him, you still kept a little distance. Him and the pack understood- never pushing you past your comfort level. Although Emily, and the other imprints at times, playing referee before things ever got out of control, have a major hand in that you suspect.

Since you lived in Forks, Embry and the pack were away during the day, unless you came to the reservation. You were the only outsider, aside from Bella, that knew both of their secrets. So when she fucked around and found out with Victoria and a newborn broke into your house–you found yourself spending more time at the Cullen's house. Or more accurately, dragged there.

The first few times, it was a little awkward. But after a few visits, they actually started warming up to you and vice versa. Alice gossiped with you from day one–asking you questions about your hair and even complimenting your appearance. You shot the breeze with Emmett about sports. Hell, even Rosalie had warmed up to you a little, much to yours and Bella’s shock. By your third visit, they cooked you dinner.

You had to admit a three hundred-something year old vampire making a pasta dinner from an old ass cookbook was a pretty amusing site. They were actually pretty damn good cooks too.

Embry and the pack were not happy about this, but he knew better than to try and tell you what to do. With all of the newborn activity, there was only so much he could do. He took some solace with the fact others were looking out for you when he was not around. It would be a cold day in hell before he let his pride keep you from being safe--even if it meant dealing with his sworn enemies. Besides, the more comfortable you had gotten around the Cullen's, the closer you got to him and the pack: A bonus in his eyes.

 Regardless of your apprehensions, nothing could be solved if you buried your head in the sand and pretended none of this existed. Whether you liked it or not, yours and Bella’s fates were intertwined. At the very least, you figured you could keep an eye on her to make sure she didn’t get herself, others or you into deeper trouble --or worse. 

When she asked you to go with her to the field and watch them train, you obliged. Hopping from the backseat of Edward’s volvo, you slammed the door shut behind you. Bella emerged from the passenger side shortly after and fell into step next to you. You parked yourself on the sidelines of the clearing, far enough away from the action, but close enough to see and hear what was going on.

Not too long after, the shifters, in all their glory, emerged from the trees. Two of them split off from the group and headed toward you and Bella. The slightly smaller, slender one sniffed and circled around you.

“I’m fine, Embry.” You affirmed, chuckling softly. He nuzzled his snout into your palm, and let you scratch behind his ears before running off to join the others, Jacob in tow behind him. All you could do was hold your breath and hope they could play nice for a few hours, as Carlisle stepped up and took his place in front of the pack, Edward slightly behind him.

~

To your amazement, it actually went way better than anticipated. You actually chuckled a few times when Emmett pummeled Edward several times and Alice had gotten the upper hand on Rosalie. Even Carlisle had a few tricks up his sleeve. For a centuries old vampire, he had some moves.

Everything was just about to wrap up, when you saw a few of the wolves perking their heads up in alert. When the Cullen’s stopped mid-stride, turning their heads into the clearing, you started to grow concerned. Embry was next to you in an instant, staring at the clearing, slightly growling.. You were about to ask what was going on when Edward finally spoke.

“The pack has heard something in the woods and Sam is asking if we could assist them. I let them know that we will and will be right behind them. In the meantime, we need to get Bella and YN out of here.” He translates, heading toward Bella. As if on cue, the pack  disappears into the woods, Embry the last one behind. Edward looks at him.

“Esme, Jasper and myself will take Bella and YN back to the house. You are more than welcome to stop by there after the coast is clear. She will be safe.” You can hear him snarl slightly beside you, until you console him. 

“I will be okay. I’ll see you after,” you assure him, patting his head for good measure. Somewhat satisfied at your response, he starts off toward the trees.. Embry turns around, takes one last look at you and the Cullen’s now beside you, then disappears into the clearing. It was as if he was saying,  “Take care of her or, I’m coming after you next..”

You didn’t have to be Edward to know that. 

Once the rest of the coven had taken off with Embry, Esme wasted no time directing her sons.

“We need to split them up in case someone decides to tail us. Edward and I are going to take Bella the long way back to the house. You take YN back as fast as you can. We will trail you until about halfway, then diverge into a different direction.” Before you could protest, Edward was already shutting the door to his passenger seat, Bella already inside.

“You’ll be back before you know it. We’ll be right behind you.” She squeezes your hand in reassurance.

Jasper then looks at you for a second, and your rising anxiety dampers for a bit. You chalked it up to his abilities, before he instructed you.

“It will be easier and faster if I can carry you. Keep your eyes closed, count backwards from 100, and hold onto me as tight as you can. Don’t worry about hurting me. Trust me on this one.” He gently touched your arm in comfort, goosebumps left behind in the wake of his touch. 

Japer Whitlock was a man of few words, but when he spoke it was hard not to listen. For whatever reason, you actually believed him. 

As soon as you were in his arms, Jasper was off. Esme, Bella and Edward were right on your tail before they approached a fork in the road, just as Esme said, and veered off into another direction.

~

Bella might have been oblivious to many things but this was not one of them. As soon as Edward got into the car, she questioned him. The green trees surrounding them turning into blurs as they whizzed passed them.

“What was that all about?” Her significant other remains silent as he speeds up slightly, trying to keep Esme’s pace. 

“He looked at her, the way you did with me when we first met..” She trails off in realization. 

“You don’t think..”

“As unorthodox as it sounds, yes. That’s exactly what it is. Alice didn’t even see this coming.” He sighs, stunning her into silence. 

Edward knew exactly how you felt about the life of the supernatural. If he’s being honest, he wants the same type of normalcy for Bella, despite her desires otherwise. He has seen many things in his afterlife that he did not want her to have to go through, if he could help that. It was very rare that he did not know something due to his mind reading abilities or general knowledge.

Yet, the reasoning as to how a shifter’s imprint could also be a blood singer eluded him entirely.

For the second time these past few years, Edward was at a loss. He did not think it was possible. Even Carlisle has never seen something like this in his extensive afterlife.

He is even more at a loss as to how Jasper will break this to you. The one thing that is clear is the more he keeps it a secret, the more danger he’ll put you in. Although he loved his brother, you became his good friend. He hated too see anyone he cared about in unnecessary danger. So, he gave Jasper an ultimatum: he tells you or someone else will.

This was unexpected and unnatural even, but it was the truth nonetheless.

For a human that wanted little to do with the supernatural, you were now going to be at the center of it.

The bitter irony, he thought as he continued dashing through the trees in the seemingly endless forest. 

—

[trekbait]

Must see things on DS9 while on shore leave!

Deep Space 9, simultaneously the most important military outpost in the Alpha Quadrant and the most popular shopping mall this side of Freecloud, has rapidly become a Shore Leave destination to rival Risa. This is your guide to making the most of your leave!

The Promenade

The hub of the station is the Promenade where you can view the station’s many stores. You’ve got gift shops, a tailors to dress up for a night out, the Jumja stick stand, Bat'leth’s R Us and the bowling alley. As far as food or drinks, you’ve travelled around the quadrant in seconds! Choose from Bajoran, Bolian, Klingon, Vulcan, the replimat, and of course Quark’s which we will come back to soon. 

Can’t I just replicate all of this, you ask? Sure but cosplaying ancient capitalism is a hobby so many Federation citizens enjoy these days. Just remember to bring some currency and brush up on the terms you need to “haggle” and “gamble” before you go so you don’t look like an “easy mark” (Have you got advice on how to spend currency? Leave a comment!). If you’re looking for handmade “unreplicated” items, however, get your purchase externally verified before parting with your chosen medium of exchange.

If you’re not someone into aesthetic scarcity, there’s more to do! Opposite Quark’s is the Bajoran temple where you can take in a slice of Bajoran culture. After all, they’ll soon be a Federation member! If your captain has been savvy in scheduling your visit, you may even get a chance to see the Gratitude Festival. Finally, fans of the first Ferengi in Starfleet may want to find a spot opposite Quark’s and dangle their feet over the edge. Enjoy the ambience of Commander Nog’s favourite spot before security moves you along.

Watching the Wormhole

You may be wondering why we didn’t point out the best spot to see the wormhole on the promenade. Well, that’s because the best spot isn’t on the promenade. Every insider knows to head to a vacant upper pylon (our favourite is number 2). Up there you’ll get a beautiful view of what the Bajorans call the “Celestial Temple”. Maybe you’ll have a religious awakening? 

Don’t forget, they say that if you see the wormhole open, you get to make a wish. I guess the dockmaster at DS9 must be a very lucky person by now.

Ops

The nerve centre of DS9 is off duty to casual visitors (such as young ensigns on shore leave) but since the war ended tours have been scheduled twice a day. Visitors will be shown around Ops by a member of the crew and told stories about the events that happened there. You will also get to see inside the station commander’s office including Sisko’s famous baseball. If you’re lucky you’ll catch a glimpse of Colonel Kira! The wait list is very long so book ahead.

Note that holo imagers are not permitted in Ops and the tour may be cancelled at short notice in the event of an emergency situation. For a more in-depth experience, see the “Ops: Battle Stations!” holosuite programme in Quark’s which recreates various dramatic battles from the station’s history.

Quark’s

This isn’t just any Quark’s, it’s the original Quark’s! A bar so good it’s spread across the quadrant like Caitan nip. It’s got drinks, live music, auctions, a Dabo wheel (with some very good-looking Dabo girls and guys to help you part with your currency) and some amazing holosuites (with none of the content filters recently applied to Starfleet Holodecks). This is also the spot where Captain Sisko punched Q!

Those looking for something special should ask after Quark’s private stock. It comes at a premium, but who can turn down some Aldebaran whiskey? Share a glass with Morn who is renowned for regaling fellow patrons with war tales. Meanwhile, Ensigns who have studied under Professor O’Brien at Starfleet Academy might also be looking out for his famous dart board. It’s located just to the left of the bar and you can try it out yourself! See if you can beat O’Brien and Doctor Bashir’s high scores!

Speaking of O’Biren and Bashir, check out Vic’s Lounge in the holosuites. This recreation of an old Earth club was so popular among the crew of DS9 that Bashir kept it running 26 hours a day. The eponymous Vic himself, the proprietor, is a sentient hologram much like Voyager’s EMH. So speak freely and enjoy the vibe of old Earth.

Don’t forget to stop in the gift shop on your way out! 

The Tribble Experience

Something away from the promenade is a Tribble cafe, opened in a cargo bay after the crew of the Defiant brought back the one-extinct Tribble from the 23rd century. Realising they could stop its spread by ensuring they were away from any food supply they managed to relocate the tribbles away from the promenade to a cargo bay. 

Lacking a better idea, they opened an “experience” where you get to pet, play with and roll around a cargo bay with several hundred tribbles. Their cute purrs will calm even the most nervous disposition!

Please note they have a strict no-food policy for all visitors. Anyone inadvertently bringing food into the Tribble Experience will be held legally liable for all the Tribble offspring that result as well as any containment or cleanup costs the station incurs.

Dukat’s Ghost

Several years back, the crew on DS9 triggered a Cardassian self-defense mechanism built into the main computer designed to suppress a Bajoran uprising. While the station locked down and attempted to kill its now Cardassian-free inhabitants messages of the old prefect, Gul Dukat (yes, that Dukat), played on monitors across the station. 

After the program was purged, a bug remained in the system. Head down to level 32, section H. Stand outside the cargo bay there and turn right. Walk to the next junction then left, right then straight on for 12 meters. On your left you’ll see a flickering display screen. At 12 minutes past the hour, every hour, an automated message from Dukat to his Bajoran workers will play. However, the audio generation gets spliced with the general communication system of the station so you’ll get a unique presentation from Dukat. We stayed for 3 hours and heard these;

“Bajoran Workers, I will learn to live with it. Because I can live with it. I can live with it.”

“Bajoran Workers, it is said that in the right hands the Mercury Stone has the power to cleanse the land of evil and bring prosperity to all.”

“Bajoran Workers, come to Quark’s, Quark’s is fun, come right now, don’t walk, run!”

Enjoy your stay on DS9 and remember to leave a review on FourQuad.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ace, Lilia: Be Not Deceived

OH???? 👁️ One of the paintings in the background is the Ace of Hearts card soldiers… Does this mean we’ll get to see the actual character inspos for each boy, even the obscure ones like Jack and Sebek??? Will we finally solve a 3+ year long mystery??????? 🔍

… Also, not Ace casually wanting to go to karaoke with Scar 😭 (Funny, cuz he was denied hearing L*ona sing during Endless Halloween Night.) Figures that Ace would be the best at singing of the first years, the others are just no competition…

A Tale as Old as Time.

Not every work of art had a seriousness about it. In fact, Ace preferred to ogle the sillier pieces, finding solace in the nonsense and the chaos of them.

Hands shoved into the pockets of his finely tailored slacks, he found himself entranced by a bed of oysters. They were pried open, one half of their shells propped up to resemble bonnets. Their fleshy, round faces were still drowsy from sleep.

Little babies, the whole lot of them.

“My, you’ve taken quite an interest in that painting. I wouldn’t have expected it of you.” The remark came from Lilia, who curiously peered over at Ace from one side. “Have you an interest in oysters?”

“Nah, can’t stand’m. Especially raw,” he replied. “I was just thinkin’ of something I heard from back home."

“Oh?" Lilia’s large eyes glittered with a keen interest. “Now this I must hear.”

“It’s not really that interesting.” Ace shrugged. “A walrus dressed up in a suit to wine and dine a bunch of oysters—but the punchline is, instead of being taken out to dinner, the oysters are the walrus’s dinner! We have a Walrus-brand oyster sauce in the Queendom of Roses that gets its name from that story."

“Kufufu, I see! What a fascinating origin," Lilia mused. "It's a cautionary tale to not trust strangers. It brings to mind warnings to be wary of wolves in sheep’s clothing.”

"I guess so? The walrus looked nice at first glance, but he basically robbed a cradle. Seriously, who'd actually go and kidnap a baby like that? It’s just an exaggerated story to scare gullible kids into acting straight.”

Lilia's mouth adopted a mysterious, knowing smile.

"Oh, you'd be surprised!" he chuckled softly. "You never know when a big, bad monster might come in the night to steal you away from your family."

There was an eerie intenseness behind his every word, the magenta of his irises darkening to match. A shiver bolted down Ace’s spine. Lilia, too, was a creature of that very night that threatened to consume him.

"Y-Yeesh, you're freakin' me out, Lilia-senpai” Ace jokingly shoved his upperclassman. His fear had been fleeting, easily chased off with a laugh. “Don't say scary stuff like that. Halloween isn't for like another whole month!"

“Oopsie~ Perhaps I’m a little overeager.”

“I’ll say.” Ace rolled his eyes. “Sometimes I forget how weird you can be.”

“What, you don’t think someone as adorable as me could possibly be capable of committing a war crime or two?” Lilia grinned. “I’m not entirely innocent, you know.”

“You definitely wouldn’t be able to pull off any war crimes though!! You just act way different than your looks would suggest.” Ace rapped his knuckles on the wall beside the framed oysters. “Like the lying walrus.”

“Do you think I’m a lying walrus?” The question was teasing.

“Everyone is. There’s plenty of them in Heartslabyul too.” Ace counted off on his fingers.

“Loosey Deucy comes off like a straight-laced honors student, but he’s an ex-delinquent and dumb as a rock. Cater-senpai looks flashy and friendly, but he’ll trick you into doing his chores and leave you hanging. Trey-senpai’s got his weird teeth hobby… and then there’s Riddle-ryocho, who has a babyface but throws fits like an active volcano!!

“The Great Seven had parts of themselves that were surprising too. No one would think the King of Beasts would be the type of guy to be belt out a song, but he still did. That’s what moved the hyenas to join his cause. It just goes to show that you really can’t judge a book by its cover.”

"A good takeaway from the tale," Lilia agreed. "Taking the morals of a story to heart... you're very clever, Ace."

"The cleverest." He cheekily stuck out his tongue.

The knowing smile suddenly returned to Lilia's face. "I'm sure you have a wicked side to yourself as well. As you've said, we all have a bit of the lying walrus in us."

"No way, miss me with that. I’m the poor, helpless victim,” Ace grumbled, rubbing at his neck. It had stiffened considerably at the memory of his skin chaffing. “Haaah, if only I wasn't bullied so much by my dorm leader~"

"By Riddle?" Lilia smirked a little. "His temper is rather infamous. Silver and Sebek are his club mates. I've heard of Riddle's rage.”

"Dude, you don't know the half of it. He's always nagging me one way or another, and if I don't listen... BAM!

"'Off with Your Head'!!" Ace scrunched up his face in a show of pretend anger and pantomimed casting a spell by wiggling his fingers. The voice he adopted was elegant, yet arrogant—a replica of Riddle's. "Now you sit there and think about what you've done, Ace! The collar comes off when you've repented."

He fell back with a groan, Lilia's amused chuckle accompanying him in the otherwise quiet museum.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up while you still can."

From the corner of his eye, Ace spotted the oysters again. The entire bed, a colony of easily deceived infants. Unaware of the world and its eager, snapping jaws—the jaws of a well-dressed walrus.

“Guess a smile and a snazzy suit is all it takes to get people to waltz right into a trap, huh? With the right looks and attitude, even a villain can be made to pass as a hero.”

Ace tugged at the silver sash slung across his torso, drinking in the details of his luxurious platinum suit. A bow tie, a vest, a jacket with trailing coattails. Shining fabric, pure and unblemished.

He was all dressed up, with nowhere to go. Only lies to tell.

“You make for a good hero,” Lilia offered, “with that winsome charm and cheer of yours. Ah, but that’s not all. It never is. These old eyes can’t be deceived.”

“Whaaat? I can’t believe you’d side with Riddle over me. I’m being unfairly ganged up on here!! Aaah, my senpai are so mean to me…!”

His laments echoed off the cavernous rooms of the museum. Mere whining of a high school boy against the backdrop of great figures and illustrious history.

He was small, one little white lie against a sea of them.

“… Juuust kidding.”

Ace turned away, a wink thrown playfully at the painting of the oysters before their very doom.

As if anyone would believe that.

[legobiwan]

TotJ Rewatch: Ramblings (1 of 3)

After a long abstention from consuming anything Star Wars-related, I plopped down on my couch yesterday and decided it was time to dip my toes back into this arena, mostly for the purposes of writing.

And what better way to delve back into this universe than by starting with the Dooku episodes of Tales of the Jedi?

Boi, oh boi, had I forgotten how much I love this character.

And so without a thesis or much a point whatsoever, I'd like to ramble about a few dozen thoughts I had while yelling incoherently through this rewatch.

Episode 2, "Justice"

One of the overarching themes of Dooku's episodes is this unsettling notion of darkness. Even at the start of this episode, gone are the usual triumphant Star Wars themes are so familiar with - the militant and boisterous brass, the rising strings and woodwinds. Instead, this episode opens with somewhat dissonant string passages interspersed with with a subtle, almost glistening electronic tones that meld in and out of the sustained string notes.

There is no optimism whatsoever as Dooku and Qui-gon set down on what looks to be the charred husk of village.

The remainder of these episodes rarely lighten in tone. And I don't think the thrust here is that Dooku is the only Jedi to have encountered these unfortunate situations - suffering and devastation due to corrupt politicians in a Republic the Jedi is supposedly tasked with protecting. What I do think is that this is all meant to be seen through the lens of Dooku's increasing disillusion. That these scenes are bleak because that's what Dooku is focusing on, more and more, to the point where...well, we know what happens.

But anyway, to get back to the episode.

You have give props to the animation team here. The continuity with Qui-gon's older self having a tendency to show cleavage apparently stems from his youth, where it was even more exacerbated. (Aren't you cold, Qui-gon?) The best part of this is the contrast with Dooku and he (of course) very well put-together outfit.

Maybe teen!Qui-gon just went through too many growth spurts and the Jedi tailor threw up their hands in frustration. I do find it infinitely amusing that Dooku - Mr. Propriety himself - had two students (Rael and Qui-gon) who might as well have been wearing burlap sacks half the time. Never let it be said that Dooku didn't allow his charges to express themselves, even though I'm certain it vexed the hell out him.

What's fascinating about this episode is the absolute economy of dialogue. There's not much of it, letting the visuals of the ravaged village and Dooku's own tight-lipped anger carry much of the weight of the narrative. It's almost as if we're at a point with Dooku where he knows he's angry, he knows his base instincts are trending in a bad direction, but he's still trying so, so hard to be a Jedi and toe the line, to believe in the Order he brought up in, which I think is partially why Dooku is so reserved in this particular episode, minus the part where he tries to Force-choke a guy.

I love that Qui-gon is doing the majority of the talking here. There's no disapproval written on Dooku's face, no motion made for him to hold his tongue or know his place. It truly shows the level of trust Dooku has in his student (and the level of trust in himself as a teacher) and also the level of respect he has for Qui-gon (despite his sartorial missteps). I've said it before and I'll say it again. Dooku is a teacher, through and through. He trains Qui-gon and is devastated at his death. He trains Ventress and is unwillingly forced to abandon her. He trains Savage as if he were a dark Padawan. He's constantly making remarks to Obi-wan as to how he could improve. The man can't help himself. But Qui-gon was special to him, as we'll see in another few episodes.

One of the most fascinating layers of Dooku's character is his political idealism. I'll point it out in more detailed fashion when I recap the next episode, but young Dooku and Padmé Amidala have so much in common. And it's wild for Dooku, as someone who (both canonically and in the EU) was born into a noble family, was aware of his heritage, and by all accounts, maintained a level of haughty distance from most people exacerbated by a taste for the finer things in life.

And yet...and yet. This is a man who is unbelievably angry at the actions of a corrupt Senate. That a village could be treated and forgotten this way. Padmé is little different, as we see in TPM and throughout TCW. (You have to wonder what a political powerhouse those could have been if they had stood on the same side of the aisle at the same time).

When we think of Dooku, we think of a relentless man who would go to any length to see the Jedi destroyed. And later, he goes on to commit some true atrocities. But like many roads paved to hell, it begins with good intentions, even if they may be self-serving.

Is it noblesse oblige? Maybe there's a hint of that. Does Dooku really care about the little person? In a way, but I don't think that's his major motivating factor.

Dooku grew up with the Jedi. He loves the Jedi, or at least loved the Jedi. He was talented and became one of their best. And then he started to see the cracks in the foundation and began to question everything about the Jedi, everything about himself. So much of this, in my mind, stems from a sense of betrayal by an organization and ideal which he held so dear to his heart (not to mention his main teacher was the head of the whole shebang).

What do you do when the thing you identify with the most - the thing that is you identity - your passion, in a way, your first love - curdles into something unrecognizable? If Dooku loved the Jedi any less, he would have left. (And that touches on a whole other cultural aspect of the Jedi Order and a type of institutional pressure that I won't get into here). Well, in Dooku's case, you start by trying to reform it from the inside. By bucking authority and replacing cracked edifice with your own hewn stone. Until you can't anymore, until the weight is too much to bear and your grievances begin to spill and metastasize into something else altogether.

The funny thing is, I feel like the start of this confrontation would have gone the same with almost any other Jedi. I can't see, say, Mace Windu (and I choose him as he gets underserved flak for being rule-abiding to the point of inhumanity) just up and saying, "Oh yeah, dude, you're totally right. Let's fuck over these peasants."

But where it gets interesting is when Dooku allows it to become a firefight. There's a long series of shots showing the fear of the villagers, the way Qui-gon looks around and is uncertain as to whether or not this is the right path.

Yes, Dooku, you do.

But. You're also willing (if not thrilled) for these people to become momentary collateral damage in an idealogical battle, as we see during the firefight exchange.

And the thing is...there's no easy answer here. It's not Republic vs. the Confederacy. It's not good versus evil. It's a lot more complicated than that, and Dooku isn't wrong in allowing the confrontation to happen. The Senator is corrupt. The Senator is willing to burn the village to the ground. The Jedi do (or should) serve the people of the Republic, first and foremost.

You can see why Dooku Force-choked the guy, in a way. He's still at a point where this collateral damage goes against everything he believes in, where he sees that the only option of restoring justice is through darkness, and he's willing to go there. For justice. For peace. (For himself).

The real hero here is Qui-gon, who is quick enough to realize number one, that his Master is going over the edge again (and given Qui-gon's response, I have zero reason to believe this was the first incident), and number two, that the Senator's son would be far more effective in persuading his father to abandon his terrible, awful plan of obliteration (although would his father have listened had Dooku not choked out of him first?)

As we know, Dooku is an aloof man. Touch is probably not one of his most-used emotional languages. I realize that in raising a child, even if they are ten to twelve years old when they come into your care, you probably have to have some comfort or at least tolerance of physical touch. But the fact that Qui-gon has no fear of Dooku and his possible reaction, that he instinctually takes him by the shoulder. I feel that with Dooku, so little can say so much, and to me, this is obvious proof of the solidity and trust in that relationship.

Part of the issue here is - Dooku's gambit works. Now, yes, he is absolutely correct in the exchange below that Qui-gon truly saved the day, but as I noted, it's not guaranteed the Senator would have listened to his son prior to having the life choked out of him. And what does Dooku received in response? Positive reinforcement. The village is being rebuilt. The Senator (for now) is reconsidering his actions. Brute force, in a way, worked, even if Dooku at the time was not fully in control of his own actions. And there's this weird negative/positive feedback loop where Dooku is rewarded for his actions, even if he knows his methods were less than savory, even his guilt eats at him, leading to the discussion below.

It's so interesting that Dooku is teetering on the edge during these years, but is always somehow brought back. It's really when he stops having a Padawan - that's one of the tipping points, where he has no counter-balance, has no one else to invest himself in, to learn from and, in some ways, live for. You almost have to wonder if some of Dooku's issues could have been solved by forcing another student on him after Qui-gon was knighted.

Next post on the docket: "Choices"

[crazylittlejester]

I started typing and it got out of control...

I don't know if you've watched Ever After High or not, but I've been re-watching the entire show on account of not having much to do and I've come to the conclusion that an LU crossover with EAH would be absolutely awesome. The general idea is that characters from fairytales grow up and have kids that re-enact their parents' stories and this happens over and over again to the point that their entire society is built around this. Since they have a magic book that kind of seals your fate if you sign it, this is where the conflict of the show comes from.

Obviously there are a few different ways a person could go about setting this up but I'm just going to pick out fairy tale parents and backstories for them because I think that's the most fun.

Warriors: I'm thinking that he'd be best as Helen of Troy. Greek mythology is canon in EAH because of Cupid, so it works. The same themes of lust and infatuation are present. Also war.

Wild: He fits Sleeping Beauty's story the most, but that's already taken so the next best thing is Rip Van Winkle. It's only 20 years compared to 100, but I think it's the closest I'm getting for now, and the point is that he wakes up as an old man.

Sky: I think he should be the guy from the jabberwocky poem that uses the vorpal sword to defeat it. The jabberwocky is supposed to be the most powerful monster in EAH last I checked, so it would be the closest equivalent to Demise other than the Evil Queen.

Legend: Given that wizards are supposed to live a long time, Merlin would be a good fit for Legend because he'd have a few centuries to finish growing up into a mature wizard. He could still be a veteran of adventures this way without sacrificing his magical abilities.

Twilight: Unfortunately there aren't really any stories about wolves that aren't villains so he's tragically stuck being a non-descript farmer. I'm so sorry. Under other circumstances he'd get to be one the guy from "East of the Sun and West of the Moon" except that guy is a bear and not a wolf.

Wind: I'm torn between picking an infamous pirate or a story from mythology. Either one would probably work, to be honest, but it would probably work better if Tetra was a pirate's daughter and he's related to a deity in charge of ocean storms.

Hyrule: Ended up picking Jack the Giant Killer for him because that story's about surviving because you're clever, and Hyrule's games are supposed to be ridiculously hard. Also there's a magic sword involved.

Four: With the Minish he could totally fit into the story about the little elves that help the tailor/cobbler. But there's a story called "The Four Skillful Brothers" and I can't say no because it literally ends with them rescuing the princess via teamwork and splitting the reward.

Time: I feel like he'd fit in best as some kind of forest spirit or changeling, but as the Hero's Shade he could also be Godfather Death. I've been thinking about it and I really can't come up with a good placement for him.

Spirit Tracks Link gets an honorary mention because he is canon in my heart. Since New Hyrule is in the middle of the industrial revolution he's probably more of an urban legend. Either the ghost of a train conductor's kid or a guy cursed to see ghosts like his Zelda.

I know nothing about ever after high but im obsessed with what you’ve just said to me oh my god

first of all anytime someone draws the connection between Wars and Helen of Troy I loose my mind a bit, one day when I have the proper brain capacity and time I’m going to write a whole ass analysis paper on the comparison between the two of them because its so important to me

ALSO JABBERWOCKY MENTION??? I’M OBSESSED. AND JACK THE GIANT KILLER FOR HYRULE?? dude I can see you spent sooo much time thinking about this and oh my god I am so obsessed this is really cool, you ate

[teenietinytangerine]

-.

THE HELLMOUTH'S TEETH;

main pairing: oc x yoongi

oc/reader: Saein, a Slayer from Buffy The Vampire Slayer universe, years after the end of the show. casted in my head as Go Minsi. yoongi: a Gumiho, the Fox, whose particularity is to feed through people's fear and pleasure.

genre: smut, fantasy.

word count: 11k (how? i swear this is pure smut.)

note: finally done and put together! this is soooo self-serving, i'm so sorry, lots of teasing and they are so horny.

summary:

The prophecies. The legends. Hwachang, a misty city in the south of Seoul was sitting prettily on top of an Hellmouth - a fissure between realities known to ooze demons, attract local bloodsuckers, kooky wizards and the occasional mummy, but nothing to worry! For the Slayer (or one of anyway) had made it her home and kept the lid on the infernal soup. Somewhat. As best as she could while juggling her two part-times and a gig in a rockband. But  stake a vampire's heart above all! Or fix a Gumiho issue. A sneaky nine-tailed fox, that a sunny-smiled client had brought to her door, and with payment for a change! But things get out of control, and next thing the Slayer knew, she had volunteered to be the Fox's source of food. Thankfully, it wasn't too unpleasant.

preview:

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Maybe if it hadn't been after the bath, maybe if it hadn't been after that kiss, maybe if, tonight especially, she didn't need the escapism like a drug, then maybe only it would have been easier to refuse his attentions and focus on her promise to make that Fox relinquinsh control and succomb to his own pleasure. His breath alone was making her delicate skin quiver, her back bent towards his marble-fleshed torso, so immersed in the hymn of their frenzy, that, one by one, her senses shivered and marvelled. Dangerous.

PART I. LUST AT FIRST SIGHT.

chapter 1. The Proposition.

“What did you say?” 

Yoongi asked, his voice cracking under the surprise, and his usually mythical face breaking into an expression of utter disbelief. Saein remained unphased to the Gumiho suddenly looking like an old man in need of his reading glasses, and reiterated:   

“I said I’ll feed you.”

“Do you even know what that means?”

“I did my research. I know.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, not unamused. In front of him, there she stood, the Slayer, the night's spawns nightmare in tight leather and high ponytail. One he ever only heard tales of, until a week ago when she barged into the nice little haunted house he had made for himself and ruined it. Not only the traps were all reduced to shreds, but the furniture and the wallpaper were impossible to save, it was going to cost him the guy who apparently actually owned the house a fortune to replace. Oh, and she beat the living crap out of him.

And now, there she was.

“Why would you do that?”

“You are such a picky eater!"

“I’m just being careful with spicy food. Especially ones who leave me with souvenirs.”

The Gumiho pulled down his collar to expose the scar she had left above his collarbone, still red and painful even to only look at.

Now would be a good time to precise how worned-out Yoongi looked. The dark high-end and tailored modern hanbok he was wearing only highlighted how sickly pale his skin had turned, and his posture was betraying the pain his body was silently putting him through. It wasn't about the wounds, or the bruising, or the beat down that refused to heal as it usually would have in a matter of minutes. It was the hunger.

Saein sighed and grimaced. “You told me it was my fault you were homeless, my fault if you were gonna starve without all your booby traps, and goat heads falling from the ceilling-

"Chicken heads."

"Chicken heads falling from the ceilling, and I just, I thought about it. Now, let me say, I don't agree that it was wrong of me to save those poor people from being Beetlejuiced to near-death and their fear being ingested by a literal hell being, but... I checked, and you didn't kill anyone, and I guess you're right, you can't help how you feed, so...”

“So? You’re going to…”

“Not let you starve.”

This time, the Fox busted out in an incredulous laughter. The girl was messing with him, showing up with all five feet of snark at his door and empty promises in a leather trench coat.

He bent over, squinting. "Really? Want me to scare you, little Slayer?”

"No... Not the diet I had in mind."

"That's what I- uh?"

"You know..."

Her eyes did the talking.  

"Oh,

He blinked,

Oh."

She never lacked confidence, Saein, but this was a bold move even for her. Paying for the impulsivity of her desires, her hair still messy from the run and shoes muddied by the path. All she knew was that she needed an escape. Needed to scratch an itch.

So there she walked in, in the lair of what she fought yesterday, succombing to a pull she should not have felt when they were dusting the walls with each other's bodies, and standing on the threshold of the theaters of horrors, too at-ease in its throes to shiver at the sight anymore. 

Thankfully, every doubt she may have had were obscured by the sheer strength of her stubbornness. So much so that, when the Gumiho approached at an excruciatingly slow pace, honoring the feline in him, all he could read on her pretty, provocative face was her dare to take her at her word. (Or, you know, take her.)

For a second, even silence was held in the air as they stared shamelessly at each other. Judging. Gauging.

He looked otherworldly, with a hint of depravity, but she knew that already.

She looked delicious, with a hint of sardonic, but he knew that already.

“Really,” she answered the question he hadn't asked yet but was all over his face. She could swear his pupils enlarged, but yet the doubt remain. How could she convince this demon to bed her already?

Saein grabbed the necklace hanging low from his neck and yanked him closer. She repeated, softer this time, mellow almost, in a whisper that only made sense at this distance.

“Really.”

Her eyes fell naturally on his lips. Beautiful, sharply carved but full, bitable lips... As she imperceptibly leaned, encouraged by his stunned silence, Yoongi suddenly pulled back, using his height to create some distance between them again.

“If you’re not interested-”

“That’s not what- Hm. You are serious.”

“I'm... Curious.”

He lifted an unconvinced eyebrow.

“And you trust me?”

“ … I do, for this. It’s your expertise, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

He smacked his lips, seemingly deep in thoughts into the spiral of his turmoils.

She had a way about her, the Slayer, a tranquil confidence enveloped in fiery defiance. Until this stormy night, he had only seen an annoying force of nature, an improchable champion with the occasional touch of sarcasm and terrible, terrible jokes. But now... Now, she was offering herself up with an unbearable human fragility that was, oh, so tantalizing. 

The sweetest bait that just might be worth the honey it held. And gods, what a lie it would be to say he hadn't wanted to devour her at every heartbeat of hers.

He couldn’t help himself but fall in it. 

It was all instincts, wasn't it? He was an expert at this after all. Who was he to refuse a willing meal when he was this farmished?

His fingers tucked back a strand of her hair behind her ear, and the first skinship came. Through it, the Gumiho could feel what she felt. This much wasn't enough to probe through the tempest of feelings he found, but just enough of an hint to get the hint. 

She wasn’t lying. There was no trap, none intentional anyway. She just... She just wanted this. All he could pick up clearly above the surface was her anticipation, and lust. And yes, lust, he knew how to deal with.

His thumb fluttered along her jaw all the way right below her lips.

Saein, as if hypnotized, forgot her breath held in suspension, as he brought her slowly to the border of him.

"Still sure?" He inquired.

His voice had changed. The traces of the wounded, unsure man had been replaced by the glory of the Gumiho, confident and at ease in his domain. Still, he wanted to give her one last chance to slip away if she wished.

 But she didn't.

"Still."

Her stare fell down on the curves of his own parted mouth, deliberately, making her intentions plain, leaning in to let their breathings tangled. So slowly that every second became deliciously agonizing, she was guiding her face towards his. Their noses grazed and...

“Not like this.” A grin stretched on his lips. “I’ve got a ritual of sorts.”

chapter 2. The Bath.

When Yoongi came out of the room he had disappeared to, he turned back to where he had left her, half expecting to see her gone. Instead, the Slayer was removing her leather coat, revealing the white tanktop underneath, and set it carefully on a chair. She must have heard him because her head suddenly turned to him.

"Everything okay?"  

He nodded. She walked towards him, throwing him a then-what-are-we-waiting-for look and passed him inside.

He had led them into the bathroom, but it wasn't any bathroom.

The sun in its dying hours was coating the wood and dark stones. The bath, as its center piece, encased in the ground, was in the form of a lotus flower and surrounded by a plethora of plants, growing their roots and leaves in-between vials and candles. It was as if stepping into a japanese bathhouse.  

Out of nowhere, water began flowing and the steam spiraled up in the air, drawing strokes in the beams of orange light. With another flick of the wrist, the wooden curtains gently fell. The candles, as well as firefly-like lights appearing out of thin air and began faintly floating, brightening the room in a million stars.

"That's your ritual? A bath?"

  She only realised he was behind her when his hands adventured on her hips as he was leading her playfully ahead.

"You spend your nights chasing cadavres in cemeteries, can you blame me?" He said, leaning in on the crook of her neck. His index slipped under the band of her tanktop, on her bare skin, creating unanticipated tickles. Damn it, she could not lose it this early.  

"Alright now, that's part of the whole schtick, it doesn't mean I'm not familiar with soap-" Her protestation and poor attempt at clinging onto her fake offense, was blown out like a candle flame as he placed a chaste kiss below her ear.

"Shh..."

Saein became overly aware of the sound of her own heartbeat.

The temperature and humidity of the room had climbed too high already to remain comfortable in there, at least not fully clothed. He pulled her closer. His fingers had only grown more explorative under her shirt, but yet kept their composure in that they seemed to only graze her skin out of curiosity, trailing paths of pins and needles. As her head started slowly spinning, she leaned her weight back into him.

"...So hot, in there."

Saein gestured towards removing her top, avid to dive in the dance but he held her in place.

"Don't. Let me." His voice had changed, deeper, authoritative, as if the mask of the Man was fissuring, and something else was piercing through.

The Fox, still behind her, removed the piece of coton out of her, leaving her bra as the sole protector of her bust. Was she taking it too far? Should she run? But those damn fingers, tracing thoughtless patterns on her neck, her shoulders, her back, while she was biting her lip down, were impossible to deny.

Fighting every instinct to stay put, she let him play with her, ravaging her with the most innocuous motions while every fiber of her being were screaming for permission to pin him on the floor and turn this slow dance into a savage debauchery. But he wouldn't let her, and she knew why. There was a savour in that leisure.

A silent sigh escaped her when he suddenly undid her denim button and the baggy jeans dropped to her ankles. She felt him so close behind her but he was careful to never let his body brush her more than a few seconds, here and there, only in the most benign parts of her.

Gently, but expertly, he stripped every single piece of clothing off of her, the necklace first, her bra disappeared with another kiss on her shoulder, and her panties just slidding down. During which, he always prevented her to speed up the process by assisting in any kind of way, or even turning around to face him despite her attempts that he only shut down with whispers.

"Trust me, just with this." And somehow, she did.

Being starked naked did not seem to bother the Slayer. It did felt only natural in this place, in his hands. The volutes of steam were her clothes.

Yoongi only left her back to grab her hand and lead her inside the bath.

By the time she sank in, Saein was losing the thread of her thoughts in the sensitive mess he had made of her skin. The velvet of the warm water over her millions of pins and needles felt like a welcomed healing balm, and she released a pleased sigh.

In her bubbles, she was drifing as if in a cozy hug while he stood dry and fully dressed, sitting himself down by the edge of the bath, a smile floating on his lips, absorbed in his view. Still now, some part of him was expecting her to stand up in a furry, throw a punch at him and leave. But there she was, the mighty Slayer, her eyes coated with a hazy nitescence, her jet hair swaying in the wake of the waves and petals, and the most delighted expression painting her visage.

Beautiful.

"How are you feeling?"

She breathed in and stretched.

"Hm, warm, good." She seemed to suddenly remember his existence as she turned to him. A sly smile and the mischievous siren slid in the water to his side.

She pulled on his sleeve. "Come."

With care, he removed her grasp and, instead, turned her easily  in an embrace and brought her closer to him, keeping her back against the edge of the bath and therefore removing himself from her vision while invading once again her space, his nose straying by her ear.

"No, thank you. I like the view better from here."

Out of thin air, Yoongi pulled a sponge already foaming and began bathing her, washing properly her arms, her feet, her thighs; brushing innocently over her chest, hovering prudishly between her legs... When she strayed too far ahead in the water, the Gumiho had to bend over to bring her back with a firm pull.

"Come back here", he murmured to her ear and the sensation of his breath sent a pulse in her belly.

"Stop teasing me." She nearly moaned.

She could hear him hold back a chuckle.

"Already?"

He was worse than a cat with a mouse, and the anticipation was now killing her.

"Alright, then." He took a nibble at her earlobe while his hand abandoned the sponge to travel with purpose to her breasts.

Saein muffled a gasp when she felt the light touch turn into an intentional, powerful hold onto her bosom, contrasted by a sly thumb greating her nipple, waking it up, soon joined by his forefinger to puck her bud.

Yoongi readjusted himself to be able to see the way his palm cupped under her flesh, how her nipples reacted to his touch and how her breathing grew deeper and deeper. His digits was exploring her sensitivities, circling with precision and mirroring on the other, wondering how they would feel between his teeth... Hm, focus!

Every tremor of hers was improving his aim and soon she came to regret the time he teased her for now all his attentions seemed to be finding the most sensible inches of her. Through his fingertips, the nine-tailed fox could sense the wave of pleasure rising in her, the slow churning he was spurring, and only when it reached the tide he craved for, one of his hand slipped all the way down to the warmth of her intimacy.  

The moment his fingers brushed against her clitoris, a surge sent electricity in her entire body. He had built a craving the moment he had refused her that kiss that was just starting to be fulfilled. Saein held back a moan as he began exploring, gingerly fondling her button at the rhythm of her twitches, stroking her piano keys and figuring out her harmony. It's only when she dropped her head back on his shoulder with a contained groan that he noticed something was off.

He froze, ceasing coldly all his attentions despite the verbal protest she opposed him, leaving her oh so lonely, and frowned.

"Are you holding back your voice?"

"Uh? Why would I..."

He scoffed.

"You are!" The Gumiho couldn't tell if he was outraged or amused.

"I thought you wanted to feed me, what kind of lukewarm meal is that?"

 This was her first chance to properly breathe among the steam that was now completely enveloping them.

"Maybe, I'm just not the loud type" Shameless, the huntress that had made herself a willing prey wouldn't even turn her head to see the disapproving face of a man that was not buying any of that bullshit.

"Oh, really?"

Thank goodness she could not see the glint that had lit up in his eyes. Without warning, his fingers took back hold of what they had abandoned and, neglecting the gentleness they had showed previously, threw her back into such a tidal wave that nearly defeated her right here and there.

The moment she showed signs of reaching aphrodisia, he pulled her up, slightly, with his arm around her waist, while his thumb took over for his finger to fray itself a path through her intimity, welcoming him by squizzing around his digit at every millimeters acquired.

A long, loud and clear moan escaped her lips and fell with the taste of candy into his ears. That little bastard.

But he doesn't gloat further. He knows he opened the floods he meant to open and Saein showed no signs, despite her annoyance, to close them again, getting louder and louder as his fingers slipped deeper and deeper, with an expert cadence and making her forget why she ever felt embarrassed, or even where she was.

The tsunami announcing in her was now reflected in her unrest body making their own, actual, waves in that bath of his, kicking unintentionally. She reached for the edge of the bathtub for support but instead found the back of his arm. Getting the silent message, with a kiss in the nook of her neck, he kept her pinned against the tub, one hand on her stomach while the other was bringing her closer and closer to frenzy.

The fox knew, at her expense, when to slow down to only push her further, higher, torturing her by teasing a release that he removed immediately by changing the rhythm and scaring her with the desperation for it she was reaching.

The faster her heart was beating, the closer the ebullition was heating up in her, the more energy was pulsing from her to him, clouding his judgment and restraint. His kiss on her neck turned into frenzied licks, his tongue tasting the salt of her skin, loosing himself in the sheer power of her arousal feeding him. Literally. His strength was coming back, his wounds were healing, but the Gumiho had not realised it yet, nor was it in anyway on his mind, for at this instant, he was completely drunk on her.

Another va-et-viens, a crooked pressure at a nook he had noticed made her particularly tingle and -

"Fuck, fuck!"

Her toes curled. Every fiber of her being tensed as the pleasure flooded in and out of her. Yoongi barely slowed down for a minute, letting them both ride it, only focusing on not letting her drag him with her, until he felt her hand try to push his away. He held on.

"Not yet. More." He groaned, that bass in his voice more guttural than ever.

His movements picked up and the Slayer that wasn't even properly done riding her first orgasm, nearly squeaked as the second came on the horizon.

"What?" The word, though singular, struggled to come out from her already busy vocal chords, in between her pantings and puffings. Her being was intoxicated, still high in that nine cloud, and every nerve exposed. He could not be serious. 

"You can go higher."

His velvety tone did not align with the manner in which he took back hold on her clitoris with his thumb while the rest of his long and articulate fingers were arching in her without mercy, using every bit of knowledge they had gained. His increasing scorch breath tickling her lobe, his expertise on her loins, Saein could only recognize that he was right, she could get higher.  

She was kicking the water and cursed his name in unspeakable languages, when, suddenly her sensual frame calmed in the waters and eyes rolled back. It came as if she was falling in the void, but was caught again, and was floating in an ether made of ecstasy. An ecstasy that the Fox was slurping on like a fine tantalizing wine, impervious to how dangerously drunk on it he was getting. He guided her through it, driving her through the surges almost religiously, their hearts beating at the same cadence, his forehead resting on the back of her head, until, little by little, they became ripples.

Then only, he withdrew.

Yoongi let go of her feverish body he was holding up until now... Only to immediately catch her again when he noticed the doll with broken strings was slipping down too fast and too low in the waters. He snapped back to reality.

"Oi, careful there."

The siren, in the end, was only human. Her eyes, confused, drained but coated in delirious bliss, rolled back to meet his. Saein, not quite back from that dimension she just visited, smiled faintly through her euphoria.

"... Damn...", the monster whispered.

He sat her back up in the bath, more securely. After making sure she was holding up on her own, he let go to lean back on the edge. His chin in his palm, Yoongi watched her come back to earth, fascinated. If he had been more honest, he might have admitted she wasn't the only one that needed to clear her head and settle down. However, because the fox's nature is to deceive, he put his light-headedness and aroused senses on the account of not having this kind of meal in quite some time. He was just out of practice.

Saein was observing him too, in a haze, through the steam. Everything was quieter, a welcomed silence only bothered by their breathing and the water splashing.

She had floated to a nearby corner, still close to him but far enough she could look at him properly. He hadn't let her sneak a peek of his face while he was playing with her. Now, there he was, almost glowing in the candlelight, a look of pure satisfaction on his fine lines.

Her gaze took the time she never had to feast on his smooth though a bit damp skin, the sharp shape of his eyebrows, his long dark eyelashes, the round curve of his nose only to fall, without fail on his lips. His full, enticing, slightly apart lips.

Two fruits ready for reaping, fruits that he had denied her before, only to tease them on her neck, made only redder and gorged.

It happened as if in a dream.

She didn't realize she had been moving, nor did he understand her intentions until, with barely a touch, with the softest of collision, her lips locked themselves with his.

His eyes widened as hers close shut.

She kissed him as she would take the first bite for the very first taste of a summer peach. It was a slow kiss, a tender kiss. She kissed him and it felt like the silkiest caress, and yet it sent volts through every fiber of his.

Impervious, a tender smile of hers broke it.

"That was nice."  

Taken aback, the Fox blinked.

He would have stayed there, frozen, if in her attempt to return to her previous position, she hadn't slipped down and nearly drowned again before he caught back her arm (and his senses). He pulled her drained body out of the bath. She had passed out. Maybe he went a bit too far.

"Alright, time for a nap."

With a swift movement, and a surnatural strength restored thanks to her, Yoongi got her up into his arms, grabbing a towel he snuggled her into, and carried her out, to the bedroom.

.cookie.

Yoongi sat her on the mattress, handing her an old tee-shirt, as she mumbled, still half in a dream's state.

"I'm not sleepy."

"Your eyes are currently closed."

Crunching her nose to grimace the offense-taken, she then proceeded to open, with terrible difficulty, her betrayer of eyes. She managed to see the blurry silhouette of him in-between her slow blinks, and the white tee on her laps. She slipped it on.

As he was about to leave, she called for him.

"How about you?"

"What about me?"

Saein, in a torpor state, reached for the rim of his pants before he could slipped away.

"Don't you want me to take care of you?"

The cocky smile he drew on his face was not quite as confident as he thought it was, still rattled by the k-, by earlier. He gently removed her hand and leaned to grab her shoulders and lay her down on the bed.

"It's your pleasure that feeds me, not mine. So... I need you rested, and comfortable, and happy. Sleep, I'm begging you."

The Slayer could not deny the exhaustion that had taken over her, not when she could scarcely get back up on her own, and her will faded away when she felt the softness of the comforter. Still, she grabbed his shirt before he could back away.

"But it still feels good, right?"

This time, he laughed. "I guess it's not too bad."

Now, her smile, that was a cocky smile.

With no warning, she pulled him, and he was suddenly forced to remember who he was dealing with and her strength as he nearly smashed into her if he hadn't caught himself with an elbow, inches away from her face.

Yoongi gulped, and stared at her temple, desperatly not looking at anything else (which is ironic if you ask me, considering he was seen every naked contour of her not but ten minutes ago, but don't tell the fox).

Saein, on the other hand, seemed to crave the proximity.

"I'll sleep, if you sleep."

"I don't-" But every protestation died in his throat for she was already rolling on the side, at his relief, but not without taking his right arm with her, forcing him into an embrace. She hugged his hand against her chest like a child with a toy, finally letting herself sink into a pillow and in rest. 

I guess i could use a nap. Giving up, (without too much of a fight if I do say so myself)  the Gumiho made himself comfortable and soon slipped into Morpheus arms, his nose nuzzled into her hair.

chapter 3. In Silky Sheets.

Snuggled against him, and his warmth, his slow breathing.

For the first time in years, the Slayer had dreamt of nothing. Her mind had been preoccupied with rest only. Even as she rose back into consciousness, the scent of serenity accompanied her. Was it the way the dying-sun's light was turning golden through the dancing curtains, or the summer breeze of the evening lulling on her cheeks?

Saein wondered why she was fighting the urge to let the embrace of oblivion wrap her once again, when something chuffled in her back. Ah yes, the Fox. The sneaky little Gumiho she had thrown herself at and yet could not find any regrets for, thus far, was now innocently dozing off behind her.

Her sleepy gaze fell on his curled hand, right above hers, still exactly where she had put it before her nap, forcing the mythical creature to cuddle her from behind. Saein was, without meaning to, noting that hand's every detail: the paths his veins were drawing on his skin, the pinkish color of his knuckles, how long his pianist-like fingers extended despite being now crouched over themselves...

Her mind wandered towards those fingers'... abilities. Past achievements, if you will. Not those, you dirty mind. The way he could sense and absorb emotions, but not any emotion, just pleasure. Fear and pleasure. An empath that could feed, and starve on her euphorias and terrors. Her thoughts seemlessly drifted to what those fingers did to her only a few hours before, how they felt on her body, in her body... The memory alone was enough to bring back the electric warmth.

Nevertheless, it felt like trying to remember a dream that kept escaping her. The more she tried to recount all the details, the more she grew restless. More aware of his proximity, right next to her, still seeming too far. She couldn't help keep staring at those fingers, so close to her own hand, so easily reachable, and yet both remaining motionless.  

Suddenly, it occurred to her.

Once again, somehow, she had her back to him. She wanted to see his face.

Suddenly hyperaware of every movement she made, and every sound rising, Saein carefully rolled herself over, but the change of position slipped his unconscious hand to her waist. Damnit. Nevermind, her goal was reached.

Now, facing each other, she could see him. Half his face snuggled into a pillow, the Fox looked peaceful. Innocent, even. Incredibly human, not a single feature betraying his nature. His raven hair were falling across his eyelids, moving with the breeze.

 "You're..."  Gorgeous. It was stupid how gorgeous he was. It would be pointless trying to explain the harmony of his features, he might as well have been sculpted by the fabric of the universe itself.  

"Hm?"

His cave-like grumbling voice stopped her cold in her tracks, realizing she had leaned mere inches away from him. 

The Gumiho's eyes fluttered open. For a moment, they were both frozen. Then, Saein tilted her head and innocently echoed him.

"Hm?"

The Gumiho's eyes fluttered open.

"What are you do-"

He murmured, barely woken up, and unable to process the situation. He was only aware of her face closing the distance on his. He recognized the same look she had given him earlier, in the bath, right before she...

 If only she knew how he was looking back at her, completely puzzled and adoring with defeat the confusion she was putting him through, but her attention was entirely on her own realization of his absolute sinful beauty she was gorging herself in.

Without a thought in her head, Saein swallowed the last distance between them and sealed their lips in a mellow kiss. This time, the fox was not as taken aback as he was before. Almost instinctively, he reciprocated, but the kiss was only buttefly and flew away before he could think of his actions. Or succomb to them.

"You've got to stop doing that", he mumbled behind his breathe. They were close enough to hear any whisper from each other.

"Why?"

Why?  Why? This was not how things usually go. By now, she should be miles away from here, actually she shouldn't even be in his bed. Actually, a Slayer, should not even be in the same city than him. Definitively not offer herself up as a midnight snack. Her scent should not be all over his sheets, and he should not be woken up by the satin touch of her kiss.

She rubbed her nose against his. He stiffened.

"It's not what I usually ..."

"It's not part of the ritual?"

"Something like that." But you're not pushing her off.

Saein shifted but maintained the distance, or lack of, between them, and smacked her lips.

"Hm, you said you feed on my pleasure, so...  Can't you feel it?"

He did.

Every brush against his nose, the slightest touch of her wandering lips hovering right above his, waiting for nothing more than permission. A wildfire of a woman. With every skinship, he felt her, completely, her and the flood of emotions she carried. More than the kiss, it was the eagerness that made him spiral. She was so .. What was she? 

Yoongi chuckled.

"By the hells, what did you dream about to wake up in that state?"

But he couldn't help himself, he couldn't deny that she was stirring up his own hunger that had only been added up since the steam rose at an alarming pace.

As if she could read his defenses melt away, her fingers ventured along his neck and travelled all the way to his jaw.

"I dreamt of a bath" She can't hold back the mischievous smile that carves those lovely dimples on her cheeks, flushed with fever and heavenly heat.

"A good bath?" The gumiho slightly rose up, making sure to never wander an inch away from the distance they had established, their breath mingling together.  

Her smile widened. "It wasn't too bad, I suppose."

Saein's fingers reached the side of his face, and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear.

That's all it took.

Yoongi succumbed to the black hole-like attraction. The moment his lips grabbed hers with force, a strange shiver tumbled down the back of his neck, running down his pearly spine and lazily spread over the curve of his loins.

Moving with nothing but the intoxication of the moment, disguising as two lovers held in time, their mouths met with demands and generously. Devouring each other. While her hand dropped along his neck to his chest, his abandonned their reluctance to find their way up her waist.

Saein didn't wait to take over. To his surprise, she suddenly rolled over him and saddled him, squizzing his midriff with her thighs and not letting him enough time to reciprocate before she shut him up back into their activity. Her hands slid along his busy sharp jaw, steering his face to her every whim. She guided the depth of the kiss to the heights of her expectations.

Nearly overcame by the softness of him, she was doing her best to hold back the instinct of ravaging her way through her desire, to savour every nerve electrified, but she couldn't bear it for long before she let both of them melt into the kiss, her eyelids closing fully as the feeling overtook her.

The chaste kiss was far gone. They were inhaling each other, noses colliding, alternating the softness of the lips with the mordant of the teeth, the tongues growing in dare, exploring how far the other would let them go and neither finding the will not to slip further and further into the rushed adrenaline.

When they reached the end of their breath, the lips naturally came to a still, yet still interlocked. Their sighs combined. Held between the seconds, there was like a silent question in suspension, from one body to another. And an answer. From him, especially, right under her seat.

There was a reason the Gumiho did not kiss. Although the mythical creature fed through every touch, his mouth remained the true mean to do so, and therefore, the most sensitive part of him.

She made his head spin, dangerously. He had a hard time focusing enough on her pleasure to consume it without getting distracted by his. He got so dismayed by his own efforts to snap out of it that he didn't notice one of her hand had forsaken his hair to travel down his chest and work on the buttons of his shirt, one by one.

He only noticed after she freed his mouth, even hungrily pursuing her in vain because she was caressing her way down his neck, leaving a trail of kisses on his trembling skin. When she reached his collarbone, all the buttons had come undone, and she could not help but stop to take in the view.

Before moving any way down further, she straighten herself, sitting back on him, squeezing her thighs around his midriff. Yoongi was having a hard time catching his breath, his eyes slightly rolled back, his mouth still hanging open. He looked both ethereal and lost in ether at once. Her gaze followed the trace of her own fingers on the muscles of his wide and defined chest, feasting on the pins and needles she saw appear behind.

"Not bad," she said, bitting her bottom lip.

"Not bad," he repeated.

With the sun coming from behind her, the Slayer looked divine. The Fox beheld her and her messy onyx hair dripping down in a sea on her shoulders, the silhouette of her sculpted waist through the white tee-shirt, and more so tantalizing was her enthranced gaze. Then, of course, there was her naked thighs pressing against his bare torso, and how if she were to move back ever so slightly...

His eyes widened when she proceeded to do just that, but instead of following through on his thoughts, she merely bent back to kiss, with tenderness, his pec. She was putting all her attention on how the muscles of his chest reacted to her touch, tensing up and releasing, caressing the smooth skin before adventuring herself onto the most enticing parts: the brown pinkish nipples.

Her teeth brushed over, then bit above it, before remembering what it felt like, him teasing her the same way before. Her sweet tongue tasted it, envelopped itself on the candy, playing with the other with her digits, exhorting a deep muffled grunt she had never heard out of him.

So, he was feeling it too. 

Her rigor only grew from here, salivating and massaging and feeling him tensed at every couture for it.

Yoongi didn't just lost control, he wasn't sure he could remember the meaning of the word. Admittedly, it had been a while since he had been on the receiving end but by the name of all that is evil, what the fuck.

When he felt her diabolical hand sneak down his belly, following his happy trail, he suddenly pulled himself back up. The Fox let her plummet on the mattress, probably more abruptly than he'd intended, and jumped out of bed on his feet.

With a forced laugh, one hand rubbing his neck, as if he just remembered something that could not wait, he put all his attentions on rebuttoning his shirt back on.

"Ah! I almost forgot! You're human, you gotta be hungry!" Parsed lips, eye contact nowhere to be seen.

Saein was too stunned to speak. Her eyes succinctly fell down below his waist but she did not comment on what she saw and he pretended not to notice.

He continued with a faster pace. "I take care of my guests, I'm not going to make you starve, I'm a demon, not a monster. Wait here."

Before she had the chance to riposte, or comprehend the sudden switch, he was gone in a storm.

chapter 4. I Want To Hear You Moan.

A few minutes later, they were sitting down, criss crossed on the rug, around the tea table of the living room. The night had come down. Saein was slurping on the ramen he had placed in front of her. To her surprise, he was slurping on his as well.

"You can eat?"

"Of course."

"I just assumed... Since..." She gestured vaguely in his direction, pointing at all of him.

The Slayer was used to her bloodsuckers who swore by nothing else but their sanguine juice. Even Taehyung, as sweet as he was, frowned in disgust at their human feast. Truth is, nothing from the Hellmouth had share noodles with her before.

"Well, it doesn't actually keep me alive, but I can still taste it." Yoongi procedeed to further demonstrate and slurped loudly on his noodles, maintaining eye contact. He put down the bowl with a satisfied smirked.

"Oh."

The Fox chuckled, amused by her deadpan answer.

"What? Am I getting a little too normal and human for you, Slayer?"

How dare he even implied she would chicken out after whatever the hell happened in that bedroom. She held his stare and, rising her chin with a sly smile, she answered,

"I think I'm the one who's getting a little too freaky for you."

The word choice made him choke on his ramen.

"What does that mean?"

Saein sighed and put down her cup on the table that seperated them.

"It means, I've got to start patrolling in an hour. Slayer duties, cemeteries, all the usual shabang."

The banter in him find itself extinguished. Yoongi plopped back down against the sofa he was using as backrest. His voice dropped.

"I'm not holding you back, you can go."

"I don't want to go. I have time."

He raised an unconvinced eyebrow.

Saein smacked her lips, seemingly deep in thoughts on how to phrase what weighted on her mind. Suddenly, she scooched closer to him and continued with honey in her tone.

"I want to stay, I do. But. If we're gonna keep going, and I hope we do, I'm gonna need some, hmm, reciprocity."

His eyebrows rose.

"Reciprocity?" He repeated, incredule.

She nodded. "Hm, hm."

"Reciprocity. Reciprocity? I know how to reciprocate, I've been reciprocating! No one has ever complained of my reciprocating skills before."

He could not have been more offended, he was a fantastic lover! Being a great lay was his whole shtick by the thousand hells. He had made her come twice with his fingers alone not even an hour ago, for crying out loud. He had felt how good she felt. There were no doubt she enjoyed their time. None. Right?

"Great, then let's do it. You gave, a lot." Was that a shadow of a blush on her cheeks? But he was hanging too close to every word she said to notice. "Now, it's my turn. I want to hear you moan."

All he could do was hide the shock behind a half-laugh, half scoff.  "Oh you-, you-"

"What? Afraid of losing control, little fox?"

When did she had gotten so close to him? This trickster of a woman was on her knees and toes, hands politely on the floor shifting her weight forward, her cocky expression shining through.

The tease got the exact effect she was hoping for.

She knew she had won the moment a pernicious glint appeared in his outraged yet burning dark stare.

In a flash, he grabbed her doll frame and pulled her effortlessly on his lap. His eyes filled themselves with a new fire.

"Go on then, Slayer, make me."

...

Schblam.

Her back cracked the cabinet in pieces as he slammed her into the wall. She barely felt it. Her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands on her butt, her back, her hair, everywhere. His lips on her neck, jaw, mouth.

Closer, he wants her closer.

They were having a hard time finding their way back to the bed now that they were navigating virtually blind, too busy making out, or more accurately devoring each other, to look up where they were in the room, destroying furniture in the blaze of their fury.

Master of this clumsy waltz, Yoongi had their two braided bodies swirling again in the ether, the ocean of her mane unleashed in the air. She weighed nothing in his arms, but once she had an hold to press against, she was pulling him to her with the strength no human had.

The fusion of their scattered silhouettes melded with complicit mischief. Her thighs tightened around him to ensure her hold, while she was gripping the nape of his neck, her slender fingers lacing caresses of delicacy and furor at the fluctuating demands of her storming mind. 

The tempest of their bodies raged.

In the enticing torpor that had lured him since she took off that stupid leather jacket, Yoongi uncovered the dephth at which her favors were bewitching. In a world that had only felt like an arrid strange land since his arrival, with the exception of the occasional ice americano, she felt, in this instant, warm and welcoming in an intoxicating way. Almost primal.

Giving up on the bed, the Gumiho pinned her higher against the wall, to make sure her ass wouldn't fall on the ground, and to be able to free one his hand to cup her face and deepen their endless kiss, slowing it in a decisive pace, guiding it beyond the teasing manners they had kept it at in their hurry, pressing in with a confused-by-how-good-that-felt frown as the flow of her pleasure slowly rose and sizzled and turned into pure blue energy when it slid into his veins.

Saein was drunk on him. It felt like she just took an entire line of vodka shots of pure him in a matter of minutes, and then went to do vaults to make sure it got straight to her head.

He felt everywhere, pressing her up with the mere weight of his body, and he felt good. Too good. The agreement she had extorted out of him, only to be turn into a challenge, it was all a distant memory. But not quite forgotten yet.

As he imperceptibly went for air, the Slayer got a hold of herself just long enough to remember.

And bit viciously his bottom lip.

"Not," he shut her up with another, lighter kiss, unbothered if not further turned on with her antics, "holding up," his tongue teased hers, it was now a game and an adorable way to turn every end of her every word into a moan "your end of," she tried continue faintly but she momentarily lost herself to the temptation, shutting herself up to bring him closer, to feast on the lips he was urging on hers so eagerly at the will of their heavy breathing, until he was the one demanding more.

She could feel his large palm molding part of her ass in a not-so-innocent way. It would be the easiest thing to lose herself in his touch. To let him lead again. If he can play with that tongue like that everywhere...

But she had other appetites.

Reciprocity.

Abruptly, she turned his head to bite on his ear, pulling on his earring with her canines and groaned with menace, "the bargain."

She didn't see his eyes flutter, nor could have guessed the shiver that had stroke him all the way down.

"'Don't know what you mean."

Yoongi escaped her complains by carrying her to a desk, sitting her down on it brutally, sending papers flying and a lamp crashing down, and started to partake on the nook of her neck while his hands adventured all over her hips and teased her breast, innocently sliding a thumb under a boob while holding her, brushing and pressing.

His mouth, on the other hand, was making no secrets and licked and sucked along every line it find on her neck like it was ice cream and he was starving.  

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Maybe if it hadn't been after the bath, maybe if it hadn't been after that kiss, maybe if, tonight especially, she didn't need the escapism like a drug, maybe then only it would have been easier to refuse his attentions and focus on her promise to herself to make that fox relinquinsh control and succombed to his own pleasure.

His breath alone was making her delicate skin quiver, her back bent towards his marble-fleshed torso, so immersed in the hymn of their frenzy, that, one by one, her senses shivered and marvelled.

Dangerous.

Call it ego, or stupidity, Saein find a remnant of will and kicked him off two steps away from her.

Still panting, they stared at each other, two animals basking in the tipping point.

Yoongi worried for a second that he crossed a line. He was looking at her face, trying to figure out where her mind was at but all he found was her checking him out shamelessly, still dripping in lust, and he immediately caught on.

His black hair were as messy as could be, falling in curls above his wandering eyes. His shirt was holding on to a thread and revealed the sculpted torso she had drooled on and, lastly, the bulge in his pants had grown in a much promising way.

The sight made her lips stretch in a sly smile. Saein took a long breath and stretched like a cat, still perched above him on her desk.

"Reciprocity, remember?"

Without letting him answer, she jumped down and, rising on her tiptoes to reach him, grasped the rebellious locks of his ebony tousled hair, tugged on it to resume the salacious dance of their mouths. Their noses meeting once more, brushing, fleeing, finding each other again, crashing when her top lip was teasing his bottom. Eager mouths learning to savor one another in a religious manner yet never imprisoned.

All the while, she was guiding him with command backwards across the room until his legs gave in under the couch. Yoongi fell backwards on his butt and looked up.

There, in front of him, the divine siren kneeled.

When her fingers ran up along his thighs, he swallowed hard, and she surprised herself at how adorable she found him and his disastrous inability to hide his emotions. That's not what she expected when she got there. Saein had been under the impression that the Gumiho would be much more, hm, jaded, about it all, sex being part of their five fruits and vegetables a day after all. Seeing him on the edge of undone, all the promises of her effect and the obvious waves she rose in him duplicated tenfold her thrill.

She barely brushed over the fabric of his pants up along his inner thigh that he had stopped looking at her, searching some elusive answer on the ceiling, but she didn't need to read his face to know.

"Oh, does it feel good?" she said, sheepishly, a merciless sweet voice.

He let out a silent protest that felt very much like a how-dare-you-be-right to her and breathed in, although it almost sounded like an hiss. He breathed out and closed his eyes. When he reopened them, surprised (or disappointed) she hadn't made of a move, he looked down at her.

"Is that your attempt at... recriprocity?" he said, with a lot of aplomb for someone she had now a good view for how aroused he actually was, and would not take her eyes off of it, not even to meet his, feeding on her own anticipation at all the work she had cut out for herself.

 Yoongi was only wearing light black pants, the silky shirt had already flown away some time during their trip around the living room. Barely a button and a zipper in her way.

"Is that permission to attempt?" Her fingers slid in circles, mere millimeters from the bulge. She knew she was torturing him, and she wouldn't say she didn't take great pleasure in it. It was, after all, a breeze compared to what he did to her (note: Yoongi does not agree with that).

He laughed. "To attempt..." and as he laughed, revealing a gummy smile, she could see him visibly relax, sinking in the couch a little more at each chuckles.

For the second time, the word 'adorable' popped up in her head - which she quickly whisked away. What the hell is wrong with you, Saein? Truth is, it was easy to forget she was in the belly of the beast, for she pathed her way through his fangs so eagerly. Above her, there were little of the Gumiho in his demeanor, and so much of the sweet, charming in his clusminess, a bit confounding but eye-catching Min Yoongi - the one that had pulled on her heartstrings every time he pushed his glasses up his nose when he introduced himself to her in the library. The ruse of a clever Fox.

Don't fall for the trick, not when you already pulled the veil.

Yoongi exhaled out, surrendering to his own battle. "Yeah, yeah it is. Permission."

"Good," she nearly purred.

A swear crossed his lips when he felt her fingers remove the barriers of his pants, sliding the zipper down and popping open the button in an excrutiating slow manner. His pupils widened when she planted a thieving kiss above the elastic waist and started making her way ... back up?

Kissing his pelvis, lacing over his hipbone, gorging up his soft abdomen, his chest, and in her feast, completely disregarding where she had hinted her appetites laid.

Against all of his expectations, her nibbling mouth made her way up fast, lingered just enough to lick his jugular, before she found his lips again.

Hiding his dismay as much to her as to himself, Yoongi eagerly responded, pherhaps too eagerly, hoping to fall back on their already established pattern. However, this kiss was different.

Saein gave him no ground to stand firm on, no disillusions of chastity or timidity. Her tongue had a will and a purpose, and Yoongi could do nothing but submit to the venereal greed of it. Faster than he'd care to admit, he grew properly inebriated on her aphrodisia, gripping her hips to pull her closer.

But Saein had not given up.

The moment she felt him lose himself in her, melting in her embrace and the familiar territories she had gifted him, the divine aphrodite brought their dance to an halt, foregead to forehead, towering slightly over him on that couch.

Both her hands cupped gently his face. She forced his stormed skies eyes to come meet hers and found a hazed starlight night in his semi-closed pupils instead, disarmed by the abandonment, the tenderness, the mere adoration he had forgotten to hide away. Her own gaze melted in his.

He wasn't hers, she wasn't his. Lovers with spikes on their walls and armors twirled in thorns. But, in this compressed eternity, they belonged to each other.

Against her every intentions, as their breath were one, Saein leaned in, pulled by some invisible thread, and sealed them in that hymn.

Her lips lingered on his, clinging to the last remnants of heaven yet scared to fall into its depths. She playfully grazed his nose with hers and held his chin up. The Slayer commanded his attention. Her thumb came to replace the ghost of her kiss. With it, she drew the rim of his lips with the care of a sculptor carving Galatea. His mouth watered with bewilderment. Content with his response, her digit pulled on his bottom lip, just enough to dare him to pull away. He didn't.

She pressed her thumb beyond the breach of his pearly teeth and let it be coated with his saliva. To have her finger playing with his tongue, so vulnerable in between his canines that he could snap it off her anytime but there was no illusion on who got who in their jaws.

She removed her thumb, mimicking another kiss with it before leaning back. Without breaking eye contact - the thought didn't even cross the Fox's pretty head, completely transfixed on the frolic confidence oozing from her every pore- she brought her forefinger into her own mouth, licking on it in a evocative movement. Then added another, and another. Up and down.

Her knee, between his legs, slid further in.

Shiii-

The Fox's mind turned blank.   

He should have easily guessed what her next step would be but the remnants of her show and the way she took back hold of his mouth without a moment's respite. Without more ceremony, her prepared fingers sunk back down and slipped under the trousers and underwear she had opened up in advance.

His heated limb welcomed her with a shiver and the proof it had been bracing itself for her, glazed in its own moist, moving with a will despite being still half-trapped in the constraint of the clothes.

The sudden wave of pleasure, relief, and exhilaration collided in a muffled mumble that came damn near to preemptivaly giving her what she had yearned for. By the way her smile grew against his mouth, she knew it.

Keep it together, Min Yoongi. 

Under her wandering hands, it didn't take long until she felt his frame tensing to the extreme. Everywhere. Especially where it interested her.

Reaching under the tee-shirt hiding all of her divine curves, his hands gripped to the hollow of her rear. Meanwhile, hers were gliding over what they had, by all means, forged and that she finally freed in the open air, feeling it expand.

The motion of her kiss matched with the rhytmic movement she applied on his spear and gonads. It seemed that, impervious to the silent battle he was waging with himself, his anatomy had no such concerns and had taken the initiative in a demonstrative and virile manner. She worked in a lascious manoeuvre to her own glee, and his.  

Already, however, her fingers did not feel enough. Her kiss was becoming sloppy as her attention were siphoned elsewhere. Feeling the smooth growth throwbing against her agile caress was not enough. She wanted to see it. To feel it. Differently, fully.

With one last smooch, she let go, fell down to her knees and started her descent to the desired spot. It was a mess. She had a mess of him. And it was glorious. Leaking, everywhere, ruining his pants, pink and wide, carved beautifully in purple veins and ornated below with heavy jewels.

How could her fingers ever hoped to take care of all of this alone?

If the Slayer wasn't such an experimented girl, she might have had felt bashful about how wet her mouth got just looking at this. It didn't escape her, nonetheless, how the appendage had grown even harder at the mere fact she was looking at it.

When her gaze rose to Yoongi's face, it was nowhere to be found, hidden away behind his forearm.

She kissed it, at first, right on the tip. To taste it. The sweet saltiness. It shivered, and what sounded like a rumble fell in her ears. Thankfully for him, she had grown out of her own patience, or she might have been tempted to tease some more of where that came from.

Her fingers laced around the base for stability and her mouth, after drooling on it, for show more than efficiancy considering he had taken care of all lubricity needs himself, tackled the lovely task with great, great skill, it must be said. Her deep chocolate locks were flowing up and down across her mischievous head as her nimble little hands busied themselves and her lips redoubled the ardor her fingers had shown.

It is out of a misguided and prideful desire not to crack too soon, and maybe a fear to admit defeat that the Fox was trying his darnest to hold back the sounds of rapture that were rushing in, begging to be released, and instead let a flow of curses escape under his breath. His attempt at hiding the effect she had couldn't dissolve the unreasonable craving taking control of his panting body. On the contrary, every attention on her part heightened his debauchery.

He felt her wet rim slid to the most sensitive places, in a perfect pace, and another expletive escaped from his tongue.

How the fuck did he end up here? What the fuck happened?

He felt the grip of her hands, the watery warmth of her swallowing him whole as he threw his head back in abandon. Everything was spinning around him all at once. The ceiling was barely in focus anymore. There was his own pleasure boiling up, of course, but there were hers as well that was not dying down, as he had expected it would in the task, but on the contrary bloomed further more, deversing and mixing up with his, blurring the lines. The Fox had to shut his eyes close.

She felt his muscles jolting under her touch. His sighs gave cadence to her movements. His body was the perfect indicator of the impact of her caresses on his manhood, guiding her, teaching her unknowingly his weaknesses.

Saein could hardly be more pleased with herself. If only her pretty face was not so busy, she would have the biggest grin on it. The doll was so delighted, she had lost sight of her original claim, while he was still so focused on it, losing his mind to not concede - a moan.

The intermittent breathing of his torso formed waves above her. She could hear him struggle and grasp at straws to contain himself as she continued to take hold of his intimacy. She had him squirming and driven crazy. She had already won.

At least, she thought it was enough, until it came.

He was close, too close. She could feel it by the way his muscles were twitching, his breathing accelerating. Another attention of hers, the slip of her tongue on a sensitive part longer than the other and it came, what she had been waiting for, no, craving for: a moan.

Yoongi froze, biting his lip to pretend it wasn't his. But there was no denying it.

A lustful moan. His moan, let out against his will, closer to a growl but indistinguishably the melody of a moan nonetheless. In it, she heard the frustration of his loss and yet, equally, the pure relief that comes with the releashment of control and self-restraint.

Now, she remembered all too clearly why she even wanted it in the first place, and couldn't believe she thought anything less would be enough. A thousand pins and needles ran along her spine. Her demands were originally only a matter of balancing out their power dynamic, she would have never guessed that the sound itself would send her reeling.  

As of now, she knew she would only need one or two back and forths to get him to his paroxysm, one he would have reached a thousand times already if he hadn't been holding himself back. Oh, she wanted to get him there so badly, before as revenge, now as reward.

She wanted to hear those moans rain in her ears. But before she could enact it, she felt two large hands grab her shoulders, shift her weight backward and pin her down on the carpet.

Yoongi towered over her, panting. Both his claws planted on the ground on each side of her head. His eyes were more predatory than human - lit with a crazed, contagious blue flame.

"You first," he groaned.

Covering her slender body, he plunged his head into her warm skin. With a few deft movements, he stripped off her of that damn T-shirt, strewing her chest with tormented kisses. It was truly, truly hard to be mad at this betrayer.

His rough palms molded her thighs, hips and ass again, as his jaws nestled in the hollow of her neck, only to trail down to her bosom, swallowing her curves in every way he could with the encouraging whine of the beneficiary.

His thirst had no end, and she was, oh, so delicious. He met the quiver under his roving hands when they grabed the panties and pulled it off with such a rush it made the delicacy he had shown in the bathroom seem like another reality.

Unwillingly mirroring his partner in sin, the Fox's thoughts were clouded by a singular need. After one last good-bye kiss on her nip, his lips traced a thousand stars on his way to the hollows of her already wet legs.

Without giving her time to protest, which didn't even graze her mind, he had his head between her thighs, and his mouth on a quest through the mythical fountain.

Saein, unlike him, made no effort to hold back any moan. Swimming in her sea, the demon was applying its art, covering with attention its sweet pearl and sending her to a place she had been reaching for a long time now.

All of her attempts of control were squashed, and all she could do was gather all her figments of focus to not come in the next second, and damn the volume she was showing instead. Nonetheless, she would not last long under the furrows of his goddamn - jesus, what the-, talented asshole - tongue against her.

Her thighs were resting on his shoulders as he applied himself with devorous passion. While his fingers reached for her nip, unable to forsake it, he sucked more of her honey in, exploring what trick made her tick, and finding many, many treasures.

Her hips arched in a convulsive movement, ravaged by a frenzy fire. Too fast, too much.

After everything, she didn't know if she could ride another after this. And Saein refused to end it this way. The moment she felt herself reach too high of a high, and felt him notice it and start driving her there, she swiftly escaped. The Slayer kicked him off and backed away.  

He looked at her in disbelief, as if she had taken away his food from him. Truth was, she kind of had. The Gumiho wiped the glistening on his chin and mouth off with a smirk.

"Who's afraid of losing control now?"

"Oh, shut up."

She had no time to argue with him.

To Yoongi's surprise, she climbed over him, making him stumble back on his butt, only managing to not be completely flatted down on the rug by stopping himself with his elbows.

The assignment became clear the moment she straddled his mostly naked body. With her palm on his chest, she pushed him back on the floor, forcing him to lie down. Saein barely gave him time to react than she angled her pelvis into his hard-on, one hand on his hipbone for balance.

They exchanged one meaningfull look before Saein impaled herself on him with a lustful swear.

His considerable width deliciously furrowed in her sensitive furnace, throwbing against her twitching walls, filling her up inches after inches until it could no more. Her eyes rolled all the way back when he reached that floor. His jaw snapped back.

For once, they were both in complete agreement of never admitting how they felt in this very moment. More intimate than ever, and yet refusing to even glance in the face of the other by fear of what they might find.

She started moving.

With an acute care now that she had fully grasped what she was working with, relaxing and merging into it, trying not to get overboard and melting into how he pressed against all the right spots already, spots that had been already teased beyond reason.

Maybe doing this minutes after grazing the orgasm was a mistake.

When she drew back, only to move back in, deeper, Yoongi let out a gasp that he stifled by biting his lip.

She felt too damn good. As if she was molded for him. Squishing his tender self to its paramount with no care in the world for how she was edging him to his end.

 It's a mess. In his chest. Between his thighs. In his head. An unstable assemblage of 'I want more' and 'get the fuck over yourself, Min Yoongi'.  And those ecstatic sighs she was letting out. And so was he.

He who thought he'd eat, is devoured.

All egos had melted away in the blazing of their desire that only rose, and rose, and rose. His hands gripped her waist. With a low moan, he accompanied her languorous movements, as her face contorted. As he lifted his pelvis and filled her up with a quick and strong thrust, as deep as she could take him, he watched her whimper under it with delight.

The last remnants of his decline slowly cracked as he let himself be swept away. She pressed, back and forth, taking her revenge. The only reason they both didn't immediately came was this competition on who would first.

Taking advantage of a second of weakness on her part, Yoongi reversed their positions and flipped her over on the rug. One hand planted on the floor by her head, he accelerating his desperate, raging thrusts. The longer he went on, the less suave he became. More aggressive. Relentless. On the next thrust, he leaned over her, swaying her finely crafted figure back, and kissed her in what ended in a bite.

It only took his teeth grapping over her bottom lip to let it all go in a tidal wave. The culmination of all her overheating senses curled her toes and sent her all the way to the seventh heaven. The sounds of pleasure pressed through her throat faster and faster. A litany of 'fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,' escaped her as the dam she had been holding with all her strenght breached and crumbled her every defense.  

Above her, he was gripping his knuckles white on the low table as her pleasure morphed into blue energy, as if it was electricity, suddenly flew through his skin like a thunderbolt, knocking the air out of him. What she felt, he felt. With the acculmination of his own desire, there was no hope resisting anymore. All the ebullition that had built in him bursted into her welcoming heat. Yoongi poured himself with abandonment, ferosity and solace with only enough common sense not to crash down on her frame.

He collapsed at her side. His locks stuck on his sweaty forehead, his pants still around one ankle, and incredibly, extraordinarily full.

Her strength left her the moment the orgasm calmed down in what she could only describe as serenity. Her mind was free - no monsters, no end-of-the-world - nothing concerned her but the ecstasy over her sweaty body.

She could get used to this. 

For a while, they just stood there, on the soiled carpet, staring at the ceiling, while their breathing steadying themselves.

"So..., her voice brought him back, did it work?"

"Hmm?"

The Slayer turned her glowing face to him. He found the detail of the carpentry fascinating.

"Did you feed?"

 "Hm, hm," he confirmed. Oh, did he feed.

"Really? I didn't feel anything," she sounded disappointed. Saein perked up on a elbow to see him better. The Fox looked drained, delighted, although a little abashed, and still staring straight ahead of him. Flushed and human, but she wouldn't dare say that.

"Does it mean you're full?"

"I am," He smacked his lips with his tongue before slowly grinning.

"For now."

[viridiave]

Spoiler-heavy thoughts about Crick and how the Game Mechanics treat Temenos’s story

So. yeah if you press ‘Keep Reading’ I should probably let you guys know that these thoughts are just a tiny bit unhinged. And again - spoiler alert! You’ve been warned!!

GAME MECHANICS AND UI

- Gonna preface THIS section by asserting that yes, not EVERY mechanic needs to be taken apart under a microscope and re-contextualized into the greater lore of the game. Not EVERYTHING has to mean something to everybody. Some of my classes in game design disagree though and honestly for the genre that Octopath Traveler is, that being a story-heavy role-playing game where the narrative is half the game, I'd say that integrating lore into the mechanics and vice-versa wouldn't hurt - in fact it ENHANCES the experience. The second game does this pretty handily through the EX Skills (the first of the skills being Divine Blessings, and the second being earned at the end of the story.) and the Latent Powers.

Okay the Latent Powers? Honestly that part's mostly for Hikari. Shadow's Hold/Light's Radiance is STILL one of the best examples of Gameplay and Story Integration that this game has

No I swear I don't have a bias for 'other selves'/'deep parts of yourself made manifest' what are you talking about -

I swear I can write an entire separate post JUST about the EX Skills. Mostly for Osvald, Castti, and mOTHERFUCKING TEMENOS AGAIN

aND THIS IS WHY I GO FUCKING BONKERS WHEN I THINK ABOUT THE DEMO VERSION OF THE GAME LIKE WHAT THE FU-

- Literally the fucking emblem for Temenos's story is a staff and a sword over the Sacred Flame like - they REALLY want you to know how important Crick is to this tale

- tHE FACT THAT CRICK IS THE ONE WHO HAS COVER. NOT EVEN HIKARI OR THE WARRIOR CLASS. IT'S CRICK - DOES THIS COUNT AS FORESHADOWING???

I'll like - write here what I should have written in the bath - and that's me being like 'oh it's because he's recklessly protective. OH SHIT IT'S BECAUSE HE'S RECKLESSLY PROTECTIVE'

I fully acknowledge that it doesn't have to be that deep. MAYBE I'm pulling stuff out of my ass. But allow me to go bonkers over Crick and his for-some-reason-worryingly-appropriate moveset

Man I wonder how bonkers I'd go over Malaya if she was allowed to throw hands. I want her to complement Castti's moveset so bad

- Also the fact that both of their kits complement each other. Crick's bulkier build was made specifically with supporting Temenos in mind.

My guy's Sacred Sword reduces the enemy's elemental defense. Wonder if that implies that the Sanctum Knights normally work with magic and/or magicians

aGAIN HE HAS FUCKING COVER which is PERFECT because early-game Temenos can and will faint if a monster blinks at him too hard

Then there's his OTHER skill Godsblade's Shield which RAISES his physical defense to SO HE CAN COVER FOR TEMENOS BETTER LIKE. AT SOME POINT I SHOULD JUST ASK WHY THEY TRIED SO HARD FOR HIM SPECIFICALLY

And I mean. It makes SENSE but I don't think any of the other helper characters really had this level of chemistry in their mechanics as these two do

Emerald and Gus both have healing moves for better survivability considering how squishy Osvald and Agnea are

And it makes sense, Temenos already has access to a healing move because he's a cleric

The thing that separates Crick from them is that neither Emerald nor Gus really have moves to further support their leads on the level that Crick does. Emerald is fast and he breaks well and Gus is clearly meant to be the DPS of Agnea's Chapter 1, but again - Crick has moves tailor-made for Temenos to go off and do his thing

You lose Pirro and Scaracci/ Rai Mei and Ritsu after the intro and none of them really complement the Throné and Hikari and vice versa as much as Crick and Temenos do with each other

The difference with them too is that they have established relationships with their lead characters prior to the story, sometimes even encountered as antagonistic forces

Pirro, Rai Mei, and Ritsu are all bosses that were once considered close comrades of Throné and Hikari

Scaracci displays mutinous traits throughout Throne's Chapter 1

Emerald subverts this by acting mutinous - which, his conflict with Osvald amounted more to a sacrifice of goodwill

He knows Osvald and how he acts even prior to the beginning of Chapter 1, so he's in this category of having an established relationship

Gus averts this completely by just being a genuinely supportive part of Agnea's life

Mechanically, you never have anything to do with these characters again past Chapter 1 - save for Rai Mei and Ritsu being bosses. Hikari's companions also play an integral narrative role in his final chapter, with Ritsu being encountered as a boss again for the final time

Crick is a subversion of all of them in that he doesn't have any direct relationship with Temenos prior to Chapter 1, and though we never use him as a helper character ever again he consistently shows up as an integral part of Temenos's story up until his death in Chapter 3: Stormhail

Weirdly Crick is also the only one out of all of them where the use of Path Actions is required more than once - Osvald has to Scrutinize Emerald at one point

AND GODDAMNIT OF COURSE THE FIRST AND LAST TANGIBLE INTERACTION WE HAVE WITH CRICK IS TO FUCKING GUIDE HIM I'M SO MAD ABOUT THIS BOOKEND IT'S SO MEAN AKSJKAS

And this in itself makes complete sense given that he has larger roles to play outside of Chapter 1 - just not in the same vein as Ritsu or Rai Mei, but the fact is that Temenos's story is VERY good at establishing and building up chemistry between its characters

bUT FOR MECHANICS WE NEVER HAVE TO USE AGAIN AFTER CHAPTER 1?? THEY WENT SO HARD AND I WANT TO KNOW WHY

- It's not as big of a deal as it looks but I also find it funny just how much fun the devs seemed to have with Crick's introduction and entry into the party - using the Path Action to fucking TROLL with him.

- ON THAT NOTE, LET ME FREAK OUT OVER GUIDE AS A PATH ACTION A LITTLE MORE

I saw a post on Reddit earlier about the 'summoning townspeople' Path Actions and it kind of shook my world a little, so I'll just put my response to it here

For a guy who makes it a point to tell people not to follow anything blindly it's INCREDIBLY hilarious to me that Temenos's Path Action is getting people to follow him blindly.

MECHANICALLY, it's because he's the designated cleric. Temenos has Guide, because Ophilia has Guide. But thematically it's interesting to think about just how antithetical it is to his central creed of doubting, and how this specifically applies to Crick.

I did go back and check and yeah - Crick's one of three individual people I was able to find over the course of the stories that has a required Path Action used on them more than once.

Malaya is one other example with Inquire, and she even one-ups him with one use of Soothe. And I'll get to HER when I get to Castti's essay - I mean infodump - because it's like. Somehow even MORE heartbreaking than this instance of Guide

While I'm here I'll also mention Roque, who also has two instances of a Path Action used on him, namely Purchase and Hire in Partitio's Chapter 5

But back to the dramatic aspect of it it's like. I really want to shake the devs because it's so mean of them to have Temenos's relationship with him begin by guiding him towards not only the cathedral but to a healthier way of thinking, and to end with Crick's fucking GHOST leading Temenos to the crucial truth that he's lost so many people to find, including Crick himself

- I won't scrutinize everything about the cleric class itself but I WILL talk about the EX Skills, because to me it's ironic just how mean they are. I'm glad that the irony isn't lost on the fanfic writers like I see you guys use these as fanfic titles - bless you all

First - Prayer for Plenty, the sequel's answer to how absolutely fucking broken Saving Grace was as a passive in the first game. Limiting it to JUST Temenos's natural moveset feels like it should be sending a message honestly - it's a way to prolong the lives of his comrades and he couldn't do that for the ones he held dear in his own story. Can't help but feel like the fact that this is the one he gets from AELFRIC'S SHRINE rubs salt in the wound - no pun intended -

Secondly is Heavenly Shine and it's like. It's a holy nuke filled with divine power that drains Temenos's magic reserves completely. He invokes Aelfric's name when he uses it to and to this day I think the reason it feels cathartic to use is because it feels like a manifestation of Temenos's wrath

Unlike Osvald's own magic kamehamehadouken nuke where he learned it out of a need to protect Elena, Temenos learns this AFTER his story - and maybe it's just my concern speaking but man I really want this to represent his sheer need to go absolutely fucking apeshit like my man is NOT in a good place after his story is done

- This is the part where I go into the tinier, 'definitely stretching this past the realm of MATTERING' details that actually have something to do with the game mechanics

Some of Temenos's class lines are reminiscent of Crick's own. We've drawn the comparison with Temenos's Sweeping Cleave line already and it's adorable

Temenos Sweeping Cleave [insert handshake emoji] Crick Sacred Slash: I'll cleave you in twain!

Reaching even further here. His lines for Lux Congerere and Sacred Effulgence also somewhat invoke Crick's declaration of 'cleaving the shadows from this world', but it's not exact and I'm just indulging

Lux Congerere: Banish the shadows from this world!

Sacred Effulgence: Aelfric, banish the shadows from this world!

I'd also be extremely remiss to NOT mention the recruitment of Ort in postgame and it physically hurts me to summon him because of the way he says 'I will avenge you, Crick!' like DUDE. Oh well at least he's grieving healthily

Sacred Slash brothers let's gooo

There's like. No way that I'll be able to fit all of this in my other thoughts about Crick that are dedicated mostly to his and Temenos's arcs so. It's like not even in a ship sense anymore even if I do think they're fruity as hell

Honestly I'm just glad to get this all out of my system EXCEPT THERE'S MORE, because Temenos's story loves to torture my brain and its themes resonate with me a bit TOO much

[sevi007]

Tales of Abyss part 15

Uhoh. Uhoh all around.

Yea, okay, see, this is going where I feared where this was going. Rambling under the cut.

One one hand, Luke is being made peace ambassador or some such. This MIGHT seem like he is getting acknowledged and honored, but as much as I distrust Van right now, I think he is also not only lying. Luke IS on a short leash,and this new position puts him directly under the king's order, shortening that leash further. He might be free of the house arrest, but free wherever he wants to go, he is not. Heck, does being ambassador to Kimlasca not put Luke - who according to Van can be used as a weapon - firmly in Kimlasca‘s ranks, signaling that to the outside world "hey, we have this boy who can be a weapon on OUR side, see". instead of a goodwill ambassador, it might actually even seem like a threat, when you send him behind enemy lines.

It is also important to note that Luke is not really given a CHOICE here because they say "become the ambassador and we release Van" when they all know how much he cares about the man. This is no choice, this is to make sure he goes along with their decision.

Not to mention that they now confirmed that Luke is a promised hero according to the score. The whole hero thing was already getting to Luke’s head and starting to distance him from the rest of the party more, this will make it so much worse.

(And I probably would be careful about a prophecy where the END IS MISSING. But you do you, guys. You do you. You just read "prosperity to Kimlasca" and that was enough for you.)

Also, when exactly did that pain you? Your wife, maybe. I don't really get a lot of warmth or care from your side of the equation Duke Fabre.

(Agh, I have to agree with the suspicious man on this one)

And next to the Ambassador thing, we have Van who is once again having way too much influence on Luke. Run anway to Daath, it's what you wanted as a kid - yea, that's a nice thing to say to someone who will not remember what he said as a kid, but who wants to be free, and acknowledged. This is so perfectly tailored to be what Luke wants to hear while also palying into Van's hand, that I do not trust it at all. Not to mention that Van now admitted to kidnapping Luke, but immédiatly turned it into a heroic act, saying he wanted to save Luke. Which again: Luke has no memories to compare to and deduce if that is what really hsppened back then

Funny, I think the "I need you" is the first 100 percent truthful thing out of this man's mouth.

Gaaah. Luke is getting influenced from all sides, and too inexperienced to see it. I'm tearing at my hair going "no!" in front of the screen XD

I'm cutting this short here, it's getting super long already.

@magicmetslogic

@ahsokaisawesome