#the mental image has been haunting me for WEEKS
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teatime-at-4 · 3 months ago
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precipice
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teallicht · 1 year ago
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lycancoffee · 1 year ago
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crow and panther showtime i keep thinking about ft private eye and femme fatale
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hanzajesthanza · 3 months ago
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~a vampire at dawn~
excuse the quick sketch, for this post is less about the art and more about the idea behind it... i have this headcanon from when geralt's company was trekking with the beekeepers through the wilderness:
although they were initially very grateful to have three meals a day prepared for them, they quickly got sick of having honeyed porridge served for all three of them. "Everything was sticky from the honey, even the young women." milva began to get nauseous at mealtimes, and cahir, usually ravenous at mealtimes as befits a strapping young lad such as he, even turned down a few bowls.
regis, however, was quite happy with it.
because, as is mentioned later in the book, about saovine traditions: "The spirits of the dead (...) should be given honey and groats, all sprinkled with vodka…" i imagine some confusing night where he went into a villager's hut to drink blood, but, it was around saovine, so they were even expecting someone like him to arrive and to even be looking for such a thing. prepared for such a situation, they handed him some kasza with honey. he didn't really know what to do with it, but they instructed him on how to eat... it was surprisingly pretty good, so he started pulling this on all the other villages, like hey i;m "undead" (whatever that means) do you have any "porridge" with "honey." yeah also put a little vodka on it while you're at it.
so honeyed groats turned out to be the first human food he ate, and over time, became like a comfort food to him. now he has it without the vodka though
#i also have just been thinking of like. the company travelling together is almost downright domestic#except for the part where they don't have a house lol#you know what i mean. that they 'sleep under the same blanket at night'#they all sleep and wake at the same time and have to get dressed in the morning#we see their night routine more but they must also have morning routine#and i know geralt wakes everyone up early to cover more miles lol#this is probably why they enjoyed beauclair so much because their breakfast on the road was always hasty#but yeah like... i mean they don't have pajamas i'm assuming but it's like in a little sacrifice when dandelion takes off his jerkin and ha#like ... i don't know maybe because only child syndrome and i did not do sleepovers except once or twice#but you're just going to coordinate your sleep routines and like get undressed and dressed and stuff together#and then on top of that from the perspective of 'hey remember one of your company members is a vampire'#regis flipped his entire circadian rhythm upside down to live amongst humans#regis is the friend in the group chat who is in the opposite timezone#and also. to me it is just funny and weird to think of a vampire waking up and eating breakfast like a human#i mean i know it's regis so it's not surprising. it's just a somehow interesting mental image#like so you're telling me he doesn't just manifest like that in dark cloak and all. he's got to tie his shirt up and pull his boots on#i blame the discussion of beach episode hanza some weeks prior. the regis in a tanktop image is haunting me. in a good way#me: 'well it's just like ive never seen him wear a tanktop' ... 'i guess ive never seen him bc he's a fictional character but'#'ive never seen your arms above your elbows before and it's kind of weirding me out'#it's weird i'm curious like a child about it. maybe i have mental problems that come from american media sexualizing any nudity#my art#c: regis#emiel regis
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svn-bangtan · 1 year ago
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Seven (Clean version?)
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»pairing: Idol!Jungkook x reader
»genre: BTS | 13+ | Fluff
»wc/date: 3.1k | July 2023
» warnings: Based on Seven music video? Mentions of smut? Jungkook being Jungkook.
»Summary: After ending her 7 year relationship Y/n shares that her breakup with Jungkook was partially due to his unrealistic desire for sex seven days a week. If that wasn’t enough, Y/n seemingly keeps seeing Jungkook everywhere. Just know a lot has happened in the seven days they have been apart
» notes: I was thinking about making an explicit version of this, but haven’t decided if I should, so you all should let me know.
»  m.list | Taglist | Thoughts? Comments? Concerns
Seoul's bustling city lights painted a vivid canvas as Y/n and Jimin sat in a secret and quiet area of their favorite restaurant, savoring the delectable flavors of their homeland. The aroma of sizzling Korean delicacies filled the air, adding to the festive atmosphere of the lively eatery.
Jimin couldn't resist his playful nature, and as he took a sip of his tea, he asked with a mischievous grin, "Okay, so let me get this straight, you broke up last week with Jungkook because he wants to fuck you right seven days a week?" His laughter was infectious, causing Y/n to sigh in defeat.
"Seriously, Jimin? Is that all you think about?" Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, unable to hold back a smile. "Yes, that's one of the reasons, but it's not the only one. Our physical relationship became overwhelming, and I didn't expect that to be such a challenge in our relationship."
Jimin couldn't stop laughing, imagining poor Jungkook keeping track of his seven-day schedule. "I can't even imagine! How does he have that much energy? Is he secretly training for the Olympics?"
Y/n chuckled, playing along with Jimin's comedic flair. "You should know, you used to live with him! Maybe he's been doing some intense stamina training behind my back."
Jimin laughed heartily, "Oh, Y/n, you always have the most interesting stories. Who would've thought that 'too much love' could be an issue?"
"Do you think I'm being silly?" Y/n asked, her tone more serious.
Jimin reached out and patted his friend's hand reassuringly. "Not at all! Relationships are complicated, and each one is unique. What matters is how you feel and what you need. Relationships should have a healthy balance of emotional and physical connection. Maybe he didn't fully understand how exhausting it was for you."
"Do you think so?" Y/n asked, hoping for some insight from his ever-entertaining friend.
Jimin nodded thoughtfully. "Well, you know how guys can sometimes get carried away by their 'manly urges.' Perhaps he thought he was auditioning for a K-drama series titled 'Seven Nights of Passion.'"
Y/n couldn't help but giggle at the mental image. "Okay, that's enough pun-ishment for me."
Jimin grinned. "Deal! But in all seriousness, communication is key. Have an open and honest conversation with him about how you feel. If he truly cares about you, he'll understand and find a way to meet you halfway."
Y/n nodded, feeling grateful for his friend's support. "You're right, Jimin. It's time for a serious heart-to-heart. No puns, no innuendos, just a genuine conversation about our needs and expectations."
Jimin raised an eyebrow playfully. "Wait, no puns? Are you sure you're not pun-ishing me too harshly?"
Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance. "Okay, just one pun. But only if you promise to be serious when I need it."
With a grin, Jimin encouraged Y/n to continue, "Anyways, tell me more, spill the spicy details!"
"Well," Y/n began, "ever since we decided to take a break, I swear I've been seeing Jungkook everywhere. It's like he's haunting me or something."
Jimin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Everywhere? Like how?"
Y/n nodded, looking a bit flustered. "Well..."
-
Y/n sat on the train, her earphones on, listening to her favorite K-pop playlist. The rhythmic beats tried to drown out her thoughts, but memories of Jungkook kept resurfacing. She leaned her head against the window, feeling a mix of emotions from nostalgia to frustration.
As the train pulled to a stop at a station, Y/n glanced up from her reverie and caught a glimpse of something that made her heart skip a beat. There, just outside the window, hanging onto the train was Jungkook, his signature smile plastered on his face. He waved enthusiastically, trying to get her attention.
Y/n blinked, thinking she must be imagining things again. "No way," she mumbled to herself, her eyes widening as she looked again. "This can't be real."
But there he was, unmistakably Jungkook, waving like a happy kid. A shiver ran down Y/n's spine, and she decided to pull out her earphones to make sure she wasn't hearing things too.
The music stopped, and the train's ambient noises filled the void. Y/n's heart pounded in her chest as she stared at Jungkook outside the train. "What on earth is going on?" she whispered, her mind racing with disbelief.
She leaned back in her seat, trying to gather her thoughts, hoping that this was all a bizarre coincidence. "Okay, breathe, Y/n. It's probably just someone who looks like him," she said, attempting to reassure herself.
Summoning the courage to face the possibility, Y/n looked up once more, and her jaw dropped. Jungkook was still there, hanging on the outside of the train, waving even more enthusiastically now.
"Y/n, are you alright?" a concerned voice asked from the seat next to her.
She turned to find an elderly woman looking at her with worry in her eyes. "I, uh, I think I just saw someone I know outside the train," Y/n stammered, trying to make sense of it all.
The woman chuckled kindly. "Oh, dear. Must be your mind playing tricks on you. Don't worry too much about it."
Nodding, Y/n closed her eyes, trying to compose herself. "You're right. Maybe I need some sleep or something."
When she opened her eyes again and looked outside, Jungkook was gone. The train had already left the station, and there was no sign of him anywhere.
"Y/n, are you sure you're okay?" the woman asked again, genuine concern in her voice.
Y/n managed a weak smile. "I think I will be. Thank you for checking on me."
-
Jimin chuckled, "That's your mind playing tricks on you, Y/n. It's common after a breakup to see the person you were with in random places."
"It sounds ridiculous, I know!" Y/n chuckled, "But wait, there's more. Another time, when I was walking home in the afternoon, I swear I saw him lying lifeless in the middle of the street. But when the paramedics came, he suddenly got up and chased after me with flowers!"
Jimin couldn't contain his laughter, "This is better than a K-drama! You should write a romantic comedy based on your experiences! Or, you know, since Jungkook is part of the biggest group in the world, not to brag, this could make a very good music video."
Y/n chuckled, "You got jokes Jimin, I know it sounds crazy! But wait, there's more. One stormy night, I was walking home, and he was once again following me, and as the wind picked up, he flew away!"
Jimin's eyes widened with amusement, "Y/n, you've got quite the imagination! Flying ex-boyfriends are a new one for me!"
"And it doesn't end there, I also dreamt of going to his funeral," Y/n continued, "and he wasn't even dead! He used it as an opportunity to finally talk to me. Can you believe it?"
Jimin burst into laughter again, "You are one crazy dreamer, my friend!"
Y/n couldn't help but laugh along with Jimin. "I know, it's ridiculous! I must be losing my mind."
Jimin placed a comforting hand on Y/n's shoulder. "You're not losing your mind, Y/n. Breakups can mess with your emotions and make you see things differently. But you know what? Maybe all these wild experiences are just a way for your subconscious to process the breakup and your feelings for Jungkook."
"Do you think so?" Y/n asked, feeling a bit more reassured.
"Absolutely!" Jimin exclaimed. "But remember, you need to talk to Jungkook honestly about how you feel. Maybe he's been trying to reach out to you and make things right."
Y/n nodded, "You're right, Jimin. I can't keep avoiding him forever. We need to have a sit-down conversation."
Jimin smiled, "That's the spirit! You've got this, Y/n. And no more flying ex-boyfriends, okay?"
Y/n laughed, "Deal! No more wild imaginings. Just a simple, honest conversation."
-
Its Wednesday, and like always the laundromat was bustling with customers, and Y/n found herself in the midst of the chaos, trying to navigate her way through the maze of washing machines. Clutching her laundry basket, she sighed, wondering if she would ever get her laundry done in peace.
Little did she know that lurking behind her, sitting nonchalantly on top of some washing machines, was none other than Jungkook, with his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. He watched her intently, ready to seize any opportunity to talk to her.
As Y/n moved to the next row of washing machines, Jungkook stealthily followed, trying to get her attention. "Y/n, please, just talk to me! You love when I jump right in, I'm offering all of me and I can show you what devotion is, " he implored with puppy dog eyes.
Ignoring him, Y/n pretended not to notice and continued sorting her laundry. She hoped that he would get the message and leave her alone, but Jungkook seemed persistent.
"You wrap around me and you give me life" he insisted, stepping closer to her, "And that's why night after night, I'll be fucking' you right!"
Y/n's patience was wearing thin, and the laundromat's chaos was only adding to her stress. She tried to maintain her cool, but Jungkook's continuous pestering was getting under her skin.
As they stood across from each other, the unthinkable happened – the laundromat started to flood! At first, Y/n didn't pay much attention to it, thinking it was just a minor issue with the machines. But as the water reached ankle-deep, she realized something was seriously wrong.
"Oh great, just what I needed," Y/n muttered, rolling her eyes at the absurdity of the situation.
But Jungkook continued to love-bomb her, completely oblivious to the fact that they were now standing in knee-deep water. "We can have the most amazing time together!"
The situation was becoming absurd, and Y/n couldn't believe Jungkook's persistence. As they continued to stand across from each other, the water in the laundromat started to rise steadily.
"I can leave you with an afterglow if you just let me." Jungkook pleaded, seemingly oblivious to the rising water.
"Do you not see what's happening?" Y/n exclaimed, gesturing to the water around them. "The place is flooding, and all you can think about is getting back together?"
Jungkook smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "I guess I got carried away with my feelings."
"Do you always have to make everything about you?" Y/n snapped, frustration boiling over. "I need space to think, and you're not making it easy."
As the water reached their knees, Jungkook's determination didn't waver. "I'll do anything to make you happy, Y/n. Just tell me what you want, and I'll do it."
"Do you really think you can fix everything with just words?" Y/n said, shaking her head. "Actions speak louder, you know."
The water continued to rise, reaching their chests now. Y/n couldn't believe the absurdity of the situation. "This is insane. I can't believe I'm standing here, having this conversation with you while we're both drenched!"
Jungkook seemed undeterred by the flood, still trying to get closer to Y/n. "I love you, Y/n, and I'll do anything to prove it."
"Do you even hear yourself?" she exclaimed, exasperated. "This is not romantic; it's just ridiculous."
As the water continued to rise, Y/n decided she'd had enough. Without any warning, she took a deep breath and dived underwater, trying to escape Jungkook's relentless pursuit. To her surprise, Jungkook followed suit, diving after her like a determined swimmer.
Y/n emerged from underneath the water of the flooded laundromat, gasping for breath as she coughed up water. She looked around, expecting to see Jungkook still pursuing her with that playful grin on his face, but to her surprise, there was no trace of him anywhere.
"Did he finally give up?" she wondered aloud, scanning the area. The water had risen considerably, and the laundromat was now a watery mess. Customers were evacuating, and staff members were rushing to address the flooding.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Y/n decided it was time to leave. She waded through the water, heading towards the exit. As she stepped out onto the street, she glanced back at the laundromat one last time, half-expecting Jungkook to pop out from behind a machine or splash around in the water.
But there was still no sign of him.
"What is going on?" She asks herself. Shrugging off her doubts, Y/n decided to focus on more pressing matters – like finding a dry place to change out of her soaking-wet clothes
-
As the rain poured down on the darkened streets, Y/n walked with a heavy heart, her clothes drenched from the unexpected downpour. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, and she couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and amusement at the reason behind her breakup with Jungkook. Who would've thought that their love would be tested by something as absurd as seven-day-a-week intimacy?
As she trudged along, she heard faint footsteps behind her, and when she turned around, she half-expected to see Jungkook standing there, his smile cheeky as ever. But the street was empty, and she sighed, "Great, now I'm even imagining Jungkook in the rain. I'm officially losing it."
But the footsteps persisted, and to her utter surprise, when she turned back around, there he was – Jungkook, looking as soaked and bedraggled as she felt. He was panting slightly from running to catch up with her.
"Y/n!" Jungkook exclaimed between breaths, "I knew I'd find you. I can't let you walk home alone in this rain."
She blinked in disbelief, unsure if she was hallucinating or not. "You followed me in the rain to apologize for the whole seven-days-a-week thing?"
Jungkook nodded earnestly, water dripping from his hair. "Yes, I need to talk to you. I realized how ridiculous and unfair it was of me to expect that from you. I'm sorry, Y/n."
"Do you have any idea how silly that whole thing was?" she asked, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
Jungkook's eyes widened, and he chuckled, "Yeah, I know. It sounds absurd now that I think about it."
"Do you have any idea how tired I would be if we actually attempted that?" Y/n continued, unable to suppress her laughter any longer.
Jungkook grinned sheepishly, "Yeah, it would've been impossible, huh?"
"Absolutely!" she replied, her laughter ringing in the rain-soaked air. "I mean, did you think we were training for an Olympic event or something?"
"I guess I got carried away with my 'manly urges,'" Jungkook admitted with a playful shrug.
Y/n shook her head in amusement, "Well, lesson learned, I hope. Next time, let's not turn our relationship into a K-drama plot."
"I promise," Jungkook said, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. "I won't let something so silly come between us again."
"Do you really expect me to take you back after all this?" she teased, enjoying the moment of lightheartedness.
Jungkook stepped closer, raindrops creating a misty barrier between them. "Yes, I do. Because I realized that I love you, Y/n. And not just for seven days a week, but every single day, no matter the weather."
Her heart fluttered at his words, and she couldn't help but be charmed by his determination and genuine remorse. "You're lucky I have a soft spot for silly boys like you," she said, her lips curling into a playful smile.
"Then does that mean you'll take me back?" Jungkook asked, hope evident in his eyes.
Y/n pretended to ponder for a moment, then stuck out her hand. "Well, since you're already soaked and looking like a lost puppy, I suppose you can walk me home."
Jungkook's face broke into a wide grin as he took her hand, interlocking their fingers. "Deal! And I promise no more crazy demands, just a whole lot of love and laughter."
As they walked side by side in the rain, laughter and joyous banter filling the air, Jungkook couldn't help himself but playfully sing, "I'll be loving you right, seven days a week. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday."
"That would be a catchy song," Jungkook remarked, looking pleased with himself.
Y/n's eyes sparkled mischievously as she recalled her conversation with Jimin earlier. "You know," she said, "if you ever decide to make a music video for that song, I have a fun plot idea."
Jungkook raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh, really? Do tell."
"Well," Y/n began, "imagine this – a guy who's obsessed with the idea of love seven days a week. He tries to make his partner happy with grand gestures, but it's all a bit much for her. She's tired and overwhelmed, just like I was. And the guy, played by you, keeps popping up everywhere she goes, just like you did in my crazy imaginings."
Jungkook laughed, "So, basically a music video version of our ridiculous situation?"
"Exactly!" Y/n grinned. "It would be comedic and lighthearted, showing that love can be wonderful and fun but also overwhelming if taken to the extreme."
"I love it," Jungkook said, nodding appreciatively. "And you know what? We could even do an explicit version of the song, where I say 'fucking' instead of 'loving,' just to make it a clear representation of what we just went through."
Y/n burst into laughter, covering her mouth in amusement. "Oh, Jungkook! Only you would come up with such an idea. It's genius and utterly ridiculous at the same time."
He winked at her, "That's what I do best."
Y/n looked at him, an amused glint in her eyes, and asked, "Were you there on Wednesday at the laundromat when it flooded?"
Jungkook looked confused, "What? No, I wasn't."
With a grin, Y/n confessed, "After we separated, I started seeing you in the most weird situations, like at the laundromat, and I thought I was losing my mind."
Jungkook burst into laughter, "Really? I would love to hear about all the places you found me!"
As they continued their walk in the rain, they couldn't help but be grateful for the silliness and laughter that had brought them back together. The idea of a music video, even if it was just in jest, gave them a sense of comfort and closure.
"I'm glad we can laugh about it now," Y/n said, looking at Jungkook fondly. "It shows how much we've grown together and how we can handle anything that comes our way."
Jungkook smiled warmly, pulling her closer as they walked back home.
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ravennaortiz · 1 year ago
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Happy for 2 and 13. Angst turned fluff. Our Killa doesn't always realize he deserves good things too.
P.S. If you get sick of my asks feel free to tell me to fuck off. I just adore your works and have a serious thing for Happy (and Chibs and Tig, but mostly Hap 😋)
You are speaking the truth! He does not at all and we will fix that one story at a time!
The way I busted out laughing at the P.S section! Mam you can do no wrong in my eyes and I will never get tired of tired of your asks! I will write you Happy stories until my fingers bleed and my eyes blur from staring at the screen! So send them in as you think of them!
Now back to your order. Looks like you want a Happy Meal with Angst and a side of fluff. With the prompts 2: I'm not the right man for you and 13: I promise. *Excellent Choice*
Over?
Happy had been dreading this conversation all week. Being on a week long run had given him the excuse he needed to put distance between the two of you. Allowed him to rebuild those walls he had been letting your chip away at the last few months. Tonight he was going to destroy the relationship you two had in order to keep you from meeting an early grave.
His lifestyle and past were too dangerous. Demons chased him and he couldn't think of you getting caught by one. His sins were not yours to atone for. The club shit lately was getting darker and darker. The last straw for him was what happened to Tara a couple of weeks ago. He had been haunted by the image of it being you. You in a pool of cold blood with eyes glassy and fixed on nothing. The sound of Juice's voice pulled him from his well of sorrows.
"Hap! Your girls here" called Juice as he saw you walk in. Happy had asked him to keep an eye out for you so that he could do this quick before you got to far into the clubhouse. The smile and wave you shot him was like a punch to the gut as he slammed his beer down and made his way too you. Grabbing your arm roughly he pulled you out the door behind him making you stumble as you tried to keep up.
"Happy? Whats wrong?" you questioned worry obvious in your expression as he turned to you. Happy had to ground himself as his resolve weakened at the concern in your voice. Giving himself a shake mentally he reminded himself this was what was best for you.
"We are over and you're not welcome here anymore" stated Happy firmly his face expressionless. "What? Why?" you struggled to get out as tears spilled down your cheeks. Happy shut his eyes and his voice shook slightly as he spoke again. "I'm not the right man for you. Life I lead isn't built for you and I don't deserve the sunshine that is you. So were done. Leave" replied Happy trying to be harsh at the end.
You were silent for a couple of minutes as you considered how wrong the stoic man in front of you was. Happy readied himself for the swift sting of a slap as he felt your arm move under his loose grip. The softness of your skin as you caressed his cheek had him opening his eyes. "Here I thought you were one of those smart bikers" you murmured as his eyes met yours. "Didn't even check me for a weapon before trying to break my heart" you chided giving him a soft smile.
"I can protect myself" he grunted as he grabbed your hand that was on his cheek. "Please go" he added quietly. "No. I don't accept your break up Happy. You're scared. Shit has been crazy I get it but that doesn't mean you get to push me away. " you stated defiantly eyes ablaze with passion as you spoke.
"I promise you Happy, you are the right man for me. " you added before leaning up on your tip toes to kiss his nose. "I love you. You're perfect in my eyes and need to stop being so damn hard on yourself. Just because you do....questionable things doesn't mean you don't deserve sunshine, rainbows and nose kisses" you soothed as you pulled him into a hug.
Happy sighed as he let you wrap yourself around him. "Guess I'm stuck with you" he rasped knowing you had won. "I can't wait to tell your momma how you tried to dump me when we go over to her house for dinner tomorrow night." you chuckled into his chest. "I'll have to check her for a weapon first" laughed Happy. His momma didn't play when it came to you.
Want more Happy? Click here
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fantastical-euphoria · 3 months ago
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this was me at a one direction concert back in 2014. had myself a blast (besides the last half bucketing down rain). little did i realize just how much this band was going to shape my life, and my tenure on this wonderful place called the internet.
i became massively obsessed over all the boys, harry especially. i thought they were always wonderful people, sunshine and happiness all around. just straight up good people.
i always put my faith in harry, louis, and niall. fan testimonies were off the charts, always stating how amazing they were. zayn i questioned for only a time, but i know now that i was reading too much into it and the golden rule has always been to never fully trust anything you read on the internet. i’m wary of this and have been a sceptic in many, many cases/articles.
now, what i never questioned or considered was liam. he was kind of a wild card for me. i initially thought that he, too, had the same wonderful lovely demeanor as the rest of the boys. they’re british lads, young, so typically you’d stereotype them as innocent charming bucks that are too easy to fall head over heels over.
just these past couple years, that image i had formerly painted for liam has since been tarnished. i feel safe in saying that liam did it to himself. he was the igniter of his own downfall. it wasn’t the fans. *it wasn’t maya.* did his former management and current management play some type of role in it? possibly and probably.
still, i’ll echo what millions of others are typing at the moment, this was far too sudden, far too soon. i didn’t expect any of what was being published on the internet to get to his head that fast, let alone that much. the mental toll that this, *all* this, has taken on him, coupled with addiction torment that he has clearly been battling for a few good years now, is probably the most lethal combo out there. it can lead to what the articles were describing. aggression. that’s not the liam that so so many of us knew. it was the drugs. it was the alcohol. it was the mental drainage. still, we know that the past cannot be erased and his actions are still irreversible, and abuse/assault can never be forgiven.
i cannot imagine the weight that’s setting in on his whole family, and his young son who now has to grow up without a father figure in his life. i cannot imagine how his management is feeling right now. but most importantly of all, i cannot imagine how the boys are feeling. they just lost a brother. they will always remember/commemorate him as their lifelong brother. i cannot even BEGIN to imagine them in tuxes at liam’s funeral… if they even decide to show up. i highly doubt zayn or harry will. if anyone, louis and/or niall, because they’ve been the more actively and vocally supportive of him. i expect all of them to post at least some little thing about this, however, knowing their history of being respectful.
as the days, months, weeks, and years pass, we are slowly watching this grim reality of a disintegrating childhood and, at least for me, teenage-hood unfold before our eyes. this definitely has been one of the more devastating blows. as much as i somewhat anticipated it… i never expected it to come so soon.
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i know the fact that this will never become a reality will forever haunt us. if one direction hasn’t been scarred enough in their tenure, this will definitely feel like a gaping gunshot wound.
i’m still reeling, and i’m still processing this. for those who have checked in on me, thank you. for those that i’ve checked on, understand that i’ll still be here, with a hand extended, and an ear to listen. we’re all in this together, grieving over such a devastating loss, not just to the one direction community/fanbase, but to the entire world. liam touched a lot of people, not just fans.
if you have any further thoughts on this, feel free to sound off in the comments. this is a safe space for everybody. ❤️
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m0rbidmacabre · 5 months ago
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Read on AO3
Summary:
Dracopia becomes obsessed with a women he meets in the street
THE LIST:
Stalking,
Enemies to lovers,
Curvy FMC
Blood Play (coming soon)
Breath Play (coming soon)
Kink (coming soon)
Please take care of your mental health
"Many a sin I have witnessed And in many indeed I have been Many a rat I've befriended And so many a thorn stood between
But of all of the demons I've known None could compare to you" 
See The Light
COPIA
I have been living in a run-down Victorian mansion, the Vines grew high, curling around every part of the exterior, making the place look like the image of death. The bricks are stained grey, with paint chipped and flaking. It seemed like the ghosts of its old inhabitants haunted its walls, but ghosts were the last thing on my mind.
 Her name was unknown to me, all I had was images of the first time I saw her. She had thick black hair that enhanced her curves, and I couldn’t escape thoughts of her. Our first meeting replayed in my head daily, overturning like some blossoming fascination that I couldn’t quite get a grip onto. We wouldn't have noticed each other if we hadn't accidentally bumped into each other. Her books flew out of her hands as she turned around and spat venom at me, making sure I knew just how clumsy and ridiculous I was. Little did she know the fire she had just ignited a burning passion. Of course I apologized profusely. My mismatched eyes finding her brown eyes for the first time and her scent filled the air with notes of vanilla and leather that sent my heart into a frenzy. I gave her my best flashy smile, making sure to hide my fangs from sight, taking a moment to adjust as my heart pounded and my breath ran away with itself. She didn't return the smile; in fact, she just looked at me, snarled, and walked away. Her hips swinging behind her as if she didn’t give a fuck about anything. “Damn…” I whispered under my breath as my eyes followed her trailing her outline of her curvy body. She was short even with her combat boots, curvy and had those type of hips that screamed to be gripped onto...
I had never been spoken to like that before. Typically, my dates complied with my every request and whim. Being a vampire meant my looks were not lacking in any way. My eternal youth has at least given me one favour. My sharp, strong jawline accentuated my chiselled face, giving me an air of authority and mystery. And my mismatched eyes? The ladies absolutely loved those. One eye was a deep, hypnotic green, while the other was a piercing white, making my gaze more captivating. My usual experience was that my charm and physical allure were more than enough to ensure my dates' compliance and admiration. I spent my evening draining them of the life force they so delicately hold, willingly they give me a piece of them, just for me to throw them aside. I have no interest in the women that so kindly offer themselves up to me.
Ever since the moment we met, I had been sneaking around, hoping to catch a glimpse of her shadow. She passed me almost like clockwork every day, her hips and cloak always swinging in a captivating allure. She seemed to have found the madness inside me that I hadn’t felt in almost centuries. A secret love, that was only mine to share... but first I needed her to notice me, to take interest... I had no idea of how I could grab her attention, she seemed so head strong, so Intune with who she was. Yet, the more I thought of her, the more I needed her.
Days turned into weeks, and my obsession with her only grew stronger. I noticed the little details about her: the way she tilted her head when she was deep in thought, the slight twitch of her lips when she was annoyed, and the way her eyes seemed to pierce through me with a mix of curiosity and disdain. I found myself oddly wandering the streets, hoping for any chance encounter, any fleeting moment where our paths might cross again.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and shadows began to creep through the streets, I spotted her entering a small, dimly lit café. My heart raced as I plucked up the courage to follow her inside. She sat alone at a corner table, her eyes fixed on a book, seemingly oblivious to the world around her. I watched her for a moment, wondering what she was reading. Her book was black, leather bound and looked rather serious. I took in that enticing scent of hers; it was one that would make lucifer fall to his knees and have him offering himself up to his new queen, it was one that I had become all too familiar with in the passing weeks that I had been following her.
I grabbed a coffee and sat alone in the corner of the room, watching, waiting... when the waitress came over to see if I needed a refill. She bounced over, standing at the foot of the table bouncing on her heels. “Great…” I whispered to myself as she made eye contact with me annoyed that someone would dare disturb me from watching her.
“Do you need anything sir, a refill? Something to eat?”  the waitress asked.
I looked at her with a blank bored expression. “No, I’m fine, erm…” I whisper out as I notice her in corner uncross her legs and place them back into a comfortable position.  The site of her pink thighs that held such life, almost bringing me into a frenzy in front of the waitress. My eyes gazing over with lust for her.
“Sir, are you okay?” the waitress giggled her head tilted with concern after a moment of silence.
I shake my head bringing myself back to the moment and meet the gaze of the waitress “Si, si, I’m fine… Coffee please...” I utter, being short with her. Hoping that would get the waitress to leave me alone a little longer. The waitress finally takes the hint, huffing under her breath as she walks away. I could tell the waitress was interested in me, the way she bounded over, hoping for a lifeline… someone to flirt with in the quiet hours of her shift. To keep her entertained. I could just imagine her standing across me giggling and hanging on to my every word. Maybe she wanted someone to take home, keep her warm tonight…  Sure, she was pretty, but I only have eyes for the girl sat in the corner.
The Girl
He's here, he's watching me. It’s the same guy I bumped into a few weeks ago on the street. I remember the day clearly; he wasn’t just any random passer-by. He was the guy that bumped into me, seemingly by accident, but now it feels like there was something more to that encounter. Ever since that day, I’ve had this uneasy feeling, like I’m being followed. And now, seeing him again, standing there and looking directly at me, confirms my worst fears. I make sure to keep my head buried in my book, trying my best to focus on the words in front of me. I do this to ensure that he can't see how uneasy and uncomfortable he's making me feel. As I shift in my seat, I take a deep breath, determined to maintain my composure and hold onto my confidence. Yet, I can feel his gaze lingering on me, scrutinizing my every move. I nervously smooth out the fabric of my dress on my thighs, hoping to distract myself from the intensity of his stare.
If he thinks I'm going to play his game, he must be insane. I have no interest in a guy who thinks it’s OK to just follow someone around like a dog in heat.  I was born with a fire in my belly unlike most... I hold a high standard, and even though I don’t have many friends because of my introvert nature. I much prefer the company of books to a touch of another human.
I sit quietly, reading, his eyes ever present on me when the waitress comes over, shes a pretty girl, young with an ever-present smile.
 “Need anything love?” she asks
“Only for that guy to go away” I mutter under my breath
“Sorry?” she asks, miss hearing my plea.
“Erm… coffee please” I smile at her.
I place my book down and head outside for a cigarette in the cool night air, hoping for a moment’s peace. The sun had fully set and only the cool glow of the streetlights remained, a slight shudder envelope me, giving me goosebumps that rise from my skin as the door opens. I can feel him before I see him, feel his eyes burning into me like they want to set my world on fire.
I turn around and see him standing in the doorway.
“Sure, way to kill yourself that is….” He mutters to me.
“And why should you care?” I reply.
He flashes that grin at me again, the smooth one that sends a fire right to the pit of my core.�� He maybe pretty, but he sure needs to fuck off.  He steps closer, moving into my personal space and suddenly, I see red, unable to hold myself back and be patient with him any longer.
“Where do you get off…”  I shout.
“Excuse me?” he replies.
“Following me… I see you; I’ve seen you following me”
He lets out a soft sigh as if he’s been caught… and then suddenly, his eyes turn dark, deep like pools of the underworld.
“I don’t think I have; you must have been imagining it… I don’t believe we have met before, have we?”   Blissfully fucking ignorant... I think to myself, my core tightening as he flashes another smile my way. If he wants to play this game, then so be it, I’ll play his little game. I scrunch my face up trying to find an answer, but it falls dead on my tongue.
“Are you feeling, okay? You look pale, maybe you need to sit down… eat something si? Maybe you’ve had too much coffee” he chuckles to himself. I give him my best death stare, one that could kill even the most hardened of people and he just returns it with a smile as I flick my hair at him, giving him my best ‘fuck off’ vibe I can muster.
“Fucking creep” I mutter under my breath as I stub out my cigarette on the wall with frustration.
Copia
I can’t believe her, shes such a bitch... a feisty bitch made from hell fire. Maybe I have finally met my match. I watch her frustration as she stubs out the cigarette and flicks it out into the road. Rolling my eyes at her littering but I don’t say a word until she turns to leave. One hand on the door and my body takes over. I grip her by her throat, one hand tightly applying pressure pushing her back into the brick wall... “Where do you think you’re going Sorella?”
Her eyes meet mine, her fury evident in the fire glowing behind them. “What do you think you’re doing, get off me…” she whimpers out while her legs kick in the air between us.
“I don’t think so, see... you need to learn something Sorella …”
“What’s that?” she spits back at me…
“Your mine now, and you don’t leave unless I say you can” she wriggles under my grip and before I know it shes biting into my arm. I instantly let go of her throat gripping onto my hand
“Urgh….” I let out a frustrated growl, and grab her by the neck of her shirt before she could escape...
“If you think I’m going to be anything to you but the person who makes your life hell, then your clearly mistaken, stalker creep” she spits at me as her hair falls over her face, her face reddening by the minute.
I push her hard against the wall, making sure she doesn’t have any more wiggle room, while I try and catch my breath… I lean in, taking in that rich smell of vanilla. “Fuck it” I grumble and grip her in a passionate kiss. Slipping my tongue past her tight-lipped mouth, finally getting a taste of her. She reminds me of the sweetest cherries, laced with her own fear. She tries everything she can to get out of the kiss by pulling at my hair, but that only spurs me on, I slide my tongue into hers, slowly massaging hers and in that moment the heat takes over and her passion becomes evident by the smell of her arousal. We stay locked together in a passionate heating moment until my lungs cry out for air. I pull away and gaze deeply at her. She meets my gaze in a shocked haze, her hair plastered to her face in a sense of sweat and heat. Letting her go, she slides down the wall in a frustrated heap.
“Sorella…. Remember who owns you. I’ll see you soon”
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ruckystarnes · 4 months ago
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Author: RuckyStarnes
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Wanda Maximoff (WinterWitch)
Words: 1,830
Forbidden Healing Masterlist
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Bucky remained still in the dimly lit room, the pain in his abdomen was borderline excruciating. The only thing that kept him from passing out was the image of the witch with sienna hair and emerald eyes. His mother always cautioned him about spellmen, saying they were like the dragonfolk: they will help you but will betray you when their own kind is at stake. But Bucky didn’t get that vibe from the petite woman. Judging from her accent, he gathered she was from across the ocean, and she did state she was a hearth witch, one of the few spellmen that will help anyone that is willing to pay. He made a mental note to make sure he got her what she was owed, as long as he didn’t die.
The door slammed closed downstairs startling him, waiting for the authorities to come up the stairs but instead it was the pretty, young witch instead. What was her name again? Did she even tell him? His head was swimming now as he couldn’t keep the pain at bay with willpower. He let out a groan that probably made her think that he was dying because she rushed to his side, coat still on, as her hands struggled to open the box she held. She was at the basin by the bed, fingers shaking as she readied the remedy he could assume to stop the pain.
“I am so sorry sir,” she rushed out, dumping the contents into a small glass bowl he hadn't seen before and added what looked like tea. “I never had to treat anyone with spindrel blood before, and I really should have asked. My babka would be yelling at me, but she is probably working her way here to haunt me.” She turned towards him, looking at the towel that was on his stomach, fear washing over her as she noticed it was starting to be more red. “Anyway,” she kept going, moving to grab a new towel to dip into the new concoction she made, removed the one he was holding, and held the new one to the wound, “spindrels are deathly allergic to bergamot, that’s why this feels like I stabbed you with a fired iron.”
“S’not so bad,” he managed out, hoping he didn’t sound as weak as he thought he was. “Been worse.” He closed his eyes as relief slowly washed through his veins as the new potion started to work.
“I can see that,” she whispered, and he knew she finally noticed all the other scars he had, now that she didn’t have to concern herself over his wounds because his relief was apparent. “Were you…”
“I fended for myself,” he interrupted her, hoping to ease her curiosity, but it didn’t.
“These are hunter marks,” she gasped, her fingers tracing a line of scars along his left arm, “you were hunted.” The way she stated the fact made Bucky open his eyes and look at her with intensity. “In my country, wolves and bears are hunted for sport. Not to kill, no. That would be a waste in their eyes. These horrible humans seem to get more pleasure from torturing. Marking with their own brand.”
He could hear the hurt in her voice, unsure why a spellmen was taking pity on him, especially since she could have left him outside to die.
“This barbaric ‘tradition’ was something done every week. My mother treated many bears and a few wolves. Ghastly cuts and burns. Shifters heal fast, but the act has to be torturous.” She finally looked away from the line of scars to look at his wound under the cloth, her shoulders finally falling in a relaxing stance apparently pleased with what it looked like it should be now. “Hold this here. I’m going to get some dressings and make a salve, then you can get home.”
“Home?” Bucky said under his breath. Home was a word he hadn’t known since he was twelve, when hunters killed his mother to get to him. He was the best sport for them. Sure he had the speed and agility of his mother’s wolf, but the spindrel in him was deadly, and at a young age, it was easy for Bucky to feel cornered or threatened. Now it wasn’t easy for anyone to bring that side out of him, a challenge that other shifters were willing to accept. No one fought a spindrel and lived.
“I haven’t been hunted in a long time,” he whispered. He didn’t know if he said that to ease her mind or to remind him. “I’m not sure if you are familiar with laws here, but if a shifter is arrested we have to state our heritage for ‘safety’ reasons. The first time I owned my paternal side, I was forced into a lab for months, subjected to tests and…you don’t need to hear it.”
The witch remained silent as she gathered the things she needed before sitting next to him again. “I am a stranger,” she nodded, “I haven’t earned your trust to get your life story. Humans are just…”
“Intolerable?”
“Despicable,” she laughed. Oh god, it sounded like faeries sang: light and beautiful. “Besides, when you’re a spellmen, people come to you when they need something, but you’re the first one they blame for something going wrong. Even if you weren’t even around for it.���
“Is that why you moved here?” Bucky noticed the hesitation in her hands, even if it was just slight. “Your accent is…European?”
The woman nodded and went back to tending to him, never meeting his eyes.
“The way you say that humans are despicable makes me wonder if you…”
“Yes,” she interrupted him, “I am European. Slovak actually. I’m what humans call a gypsy, but I’m not. I’m a witch, and last time I knew, gypsies don’t do spells nor are they spellmens.” She licked her lips before she readied a needle with thread, dipping the sharp end into the mixture she had made. “I apologize for almost killing you when I was trying to save you…Bucky. I never tended to a spindrel before, never met one to be honest.”
“Most haven’t,” he replied, eyes closing. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Never offered it to you,” she huffed, making Bucky frown as he was afraid he annoyed her. “It’s Wanda.”
“That’s a pretty name,” he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Now hold still so I can stitch you before patching. Then I can see if you should stay here for a bit.”
“Here?”
“Yes, you seem to not have a home. I cannot let you out of here knowing you aren’t going to take care of yourself after leaving. Sure the dracaena will help ward off infections, but this wound could open if you get into another tussle.”
“You make it seem like I like getting beat up,” he groaned. He could feel her small hand on his abdomen, making him tense under her touch only slightly until he could feel the keenness of the needle pushed into his skin; he sucked in a sharp breath as he felt the thread pull through.
“Take slow breaths. Tell me about yourself. It’ll take your mind off the unpleasantness.”
“I thought there were things to numb the pain,” he growled, fixating his gaze on her. Wanda flinched at him, making him realize that his eyes must have changed from his usual umber brown to crystal blue.
“I already applied it,” she whispered, her voice shaky as were her hands now. He placed one over the hand that didn’t hold the needle and gave her a reassuring smile.
“I apologize.” He tried to make sure his voice was soft and light, swallowing the pain. “Maybe you can apply some more, please?”
She nodded, slowly removing her hand from his to reach for the bowl with the resin mixture. After setting the bowl down next to him, her fingers moved to apply some to the gashes, trying to be as gentle as possible even though her hand was still shaking. Bucky wanted to kick himself for making this self assured witch nervous.
“Let me,” he whispered, “that way you get the spots that actually hurt.” His hand covered hers, guiding them to the areas that were burning. He noticed her cheeks flared, making him wonder if she wasn’t used to being touched or being scared.
“Both,” she replied as if she read his mind. Did she? “Yes,” she added, taking her hand back to wipe it on the cloth before continuing her stitches. “It’s the reason why I ran away here. It’s one thing to be a spellmen, but it’s another when you can read thoughts and predict the future when it’s horrible.”
Bucky fell silent, not asking for her to elaborate, but she did. She recounted the events of seeing a dark force coming to the small village that she resided next to, people dying horrifyingly. She tried to warn the villagers but they brushed it off as a bad dream, but when a plague hit and took more than half the children’s lives and tore families apart, they raided her home when she was out, setting it on fire before she returned. Bucky listened quietly, her voice distracting him from the slight pinches of the needle and the tugging of the thread.
“So, I came here. I advertise as a holistic healer, using only human terminology and playing dumb when a shifter or another spellmen comes to the door,” she went on. “There. Now, I should let you rest. I’ll make you some tea, and find something to eat for you.”
She stood, but his hand caught hers, her face soft as she looked down at him.
“Thank you,” he replied.
She nodded, taking her hand back slowly, making him notice that this time she seemed reluctant. “You would have died if you weren’t treated. And you said you didn’t trust most people.” She placed the items she used into a small basket she kept under the bed and turned towards the door. “Get some rest, Bucky,” she said over her shoulder, giving him a bashful smile, but it disappeared once there was a knock on the door.
“Wanda Maximoff!” A voice hollered, making her drop the basket. “We have suspicions that you are housing a spindrel.”
“Do riti!” she cursed, looking at him with a nervous look. “I didn’t tell, but the man at the store…dracaena isn’t used often.” She gathered the bin and shoved it into the cabinet and motioned him to follow her. “Basement has a secret door under the stairs. Hide there and I’ll come find you.” She motioned to the door for the basement before moving to strip off her shirt, tossing it on the couch and messing up her hair before grabbing a blanket to hold it to her chest, making Bucky blush before he descended the stairs, hearing her answer the door with a labored breath.
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sunnyrosewritesstuff · 5 months ago
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Round 3, Poll 3
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One Last Adventure v. Ghost of a Chance v. Guardian of Kings v. From the Pieces of Your Shattered Memories
THE POLL IS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE POST! CLICK "KEEP READING". (This is going to be a long one. 😅)
One Last Adventure: (Post-Canon AU)
Bilbo blinked, trying to get his bearings. Where was Ered Mithrim? And why do dwarves have so many lost kingdoms they are trying to get back into? And how was he the most qualified individual to do so? Bilbo pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I think we’re going to have to start at the beginning here.” He determined.
The dwarves made a place for Bilbo to sit, offering him bits of their lunch that Bilbo felt would be rude to turn down even if his stomach was rolling. He learned their names: Brombrar, Gulrik, and Gimli. Bilbo blinked in surprise at the last one, staring at the red haired lad until finally he could place him with the image inside Gloin’s locket. It was clear that portrait had been made long ago as Gimli had a very fine beard, thicker than Fili or Kili’s but not quite long enough to hang off his chin. 
“And Gloin knows you’re out here recruiting me for some adventure?”
Gimli’s face turned bright red as he tried to mumble out some excuse. Bilbo felt his face drain of color. Did anyone know that these children were this far from Erebor? Was Bilbo going to be accused of kidnapping?
“Are any of you actually of age?” Bilbo asked, aghast.
“Gulrik and I both are.” The big one, Brombrar puffed up.
“So what are you doing here?” Bilbo accused Gimli.
“I’m the one His Majesty, Thorin Oakenshield approached!” Gimli defended. “Besides, I’m handy with an axe and it’s not like I’m a wee pebble.”
“So let’s get into that.” Bilbo sidestepped thinking about the angry calvary that was sure to come any second. “Tell me about Thorin.”
Gimli settled down enough to begin the story. He had been wandering the corridors of Erebor (where he wasn’t supposed to) when Thorin approached him. Gimli had been ‘struck by stone’ which Bilbo took to mean shocked. He immediately bowed and asked if it was really the fallen King, Thorin Oakenshield.
“And what did he say?” Bilbo pressed.
“He said, ‘Yes, Gimli, son of Gloin, it is I. Mahal has approached me with a great task that I now pass on to you. Inside Ered Mithrim is an object of great importance that needs to be reclaimed.’” Gimli paused at this point shifting in his seat. “And of course, I questioned it, Master Baggins. Whether or not this was really King Thorin, but he told me of a memory that we shared when it was just the two of us and I knew at that point it had to be him!”
Bilbo felt his heart speed up as his breath caught. It sounded so impossible. It was too good to be true. Bilbo had been there after all. He watched him die. How could he be back now? What kind of magic could do something like that? 
Bilbo indicated for Gimli to continue. So he spoke of this object. Some sort of smooth ball of crystal that allowed one to speak to another with the same crystal ball.
Ghost of a Chance: (Haunted Wedding AU)
Bilbo could have kissed Thorin for getting him out of there so effortlessly. It wasn’t until they were out in the hallway that Tauriel spoke up. 
“This is such a disaster! Bilbo, I’m so sorry.”
Bilbo mentally did not have the energy to comfort the girl no matter how bad he wanted to. Thankful, Thorin took care of that for him as well.
“Tauriel, this isn’t your fault. Why don’t you guys all go out and do something. I’m going to take Bilbo up to his suite for a bit just to give him a chance to process. We’ll call you the moment he makes a decision.”
She nodded, tears in her eyes as Kili rubbed her back in comfort. They all wished Bilbo well in some form or fashion until it was just him and Thorin. It was funny. At the beginning of this week that was something Bilbo would have absolutely dreaded, but now he couldn’t stop himself from leaning a little further into the strong arms guiding him. That did remind him that they needed to talk and soon, but perhaps it could wait until after the shaking had subsided.
They made it to the floor of Bilbo’s room and he struggled to pull out his cardkey and insert it into the slot, but the moment the door closed behind him, it was like he could finally breathe again. A shaky sob came out instead.
“Oh, Bilbo. Come here.” Thorin purred, pulling Bilbo in close.
Bilbo didn’t actually cry, but he held on tight to Thorin as he fought through the hiccuping sounds his throat continued to produce. 
“What the fuck is happening?” Bilbo complained.
“I would say a string of bad luck but this seems even beyond that.” Thorin attempted to joke. 
“Thorin, that cabinet could of crushed me. How did it not crush me?” Bilbo asked in bewilderment.
“Your barstool.” Thorin explained. “You must have knocked it over when you jumped up. It wedged itself under the cabinet and kept it from falling all the way.”
Bilbo shook his head as he pulled away from Thorin to lay down on his bed, the heels of his hands pressing down on his eye sockets. 
“Thorin, what am I going to do? Apparently, there are ghosts out to get me.”
He let out a bitter huff at that which turned into a chuckle before escalating into full blown hysterical laughter. Thorin must think he was absolutely insane as he laughed so much his sides began to act and tears streamed lightly down his cheeks. However, Thorin didn’t say a word. He just sat down next to Bilbo, petting his hair back from his head. It was actually a lovely sensation now that he was paying attention to the rhythm of it, and slowly it was enough to calm Bilbo back down.
“How about room service?” Thorin offered when Bilbo was calm enough again.
“Sweet Yavanna, I should kiss you.” Bilbo groaned in appreciation.
Thorin froze which in turn made Bilbo freeze as his words dawned on him.
Guardian of Kings (sequel): (BAMF Bilbo Baggins)
“You can eat him or stuff him full of eggs for the losses you’ve suffered. It matters not to me, but our debt is paid with his blood.”
Bilbo tried to breathe through the roaring in his head. He needed to think. Neither one of those options sounded appealing in the slightest. A shiver rolled down his back. Yep, definitely needed to stop thinking about it. So what could he do to stall the orcs?
“So that’s it. You’re taking your orders from the spiders now.” He attempted to laugh.
“Shut it runt!” The orc pinning him down shouted as he kicked him in the side.
Bilbo winced, curling in on himself as he panted through the pain. His eyes were squeezed shut, but that didn’t stop him from speaking up still.
“I mean, Azog and Bolg are both dead. Who else could you have to look up to?”
“What did you say, you little rat?” The leader orc growled, picking Bilbo up by his hair.
Bilbo cried out, especially as it unfurrowed him around his hurt ribs. He peeked an eye open to see the orc holding Bilbo’s own blade against his chin. Bilbo could see in his eyes though that he was listening at least.
“The spiders aren’t as smart as you. They aren’t as strategic.” Bilbo grit through his teeth. “They can’t think past their stomachs. What right do they have to demand payment? They should be following your orders. Not the other way around.”
“He’s right!” One of the other orcs shouted.
“He’s just trying to get us all riled up.” The lead orc snapped back.
“We’re only in this mess with the spiders because of you!” Another orc growled.
“You’re alive and not at the end of a filthy elf’s arrow because of me!” The leader screamed, dropping Bilbo to the ground. “We escaped Azog’s war with Oakenshield by the skin of our teeth and the blood the spiders gave us. All it would cost us is this runt’s blood and we’re done with them.”
“Blood that could go to us! You think this thin elf would be enough to feed us!”
Bilbo had done what he set out to do. Now he had to get out of the way before this turned any uglier. He started wiggling like a worm until he got himself up on his knees. He started trying to crawl away when he heard the clicks and clatters of the spiders. He looked back over his shoulder to see them paused just in front of the orcs, their mandibles snapping in impatience. There were only about eight but that was more than Bilbo wanted to deal with at the moment. 
Suddenly, there was a jerk on the back of his jacket before he was dragged backwards and thrown back in front of the spiders. Bilbo could feel his face drain of color as his sword was thrown next to him.
“There! That’s the one, right? The one who slayed so many of you and mocked you as he did it!”
From the Pieces of Your Shattered Memories: (Amnesia Modern AU)
“I’m on holiday.” Bilbo explained. “But you owe me the favor after you called to have me change the lightbulbs for you and I promised not to report the incident.”
Odo’s face turned a spectacular shade of purple as he spluttered.
“That-! I-! Fine! What do you want?”
“I just need the keys to your car. I’ll bring it right back.” Bilbo added, hurrying to cut off his cousin’s protest.
“Bring it right-! Now see here, Bilbo Baggins! I am certainly not your taxi service!”
“Which is why I didn’t ask you to chauffeur.” Bilbo smirked. “Come on, Odo. You won’t even have time to miss it. I just need it for a quick trip to the burbs and I’ll bring it right back.”
“What’s in it for me?”
Bilbo frowned. He knew he shouldn’t have expected a mere favor to be returned. His cousin was far too stingy for that. 
“What do you want?”
“Run the Mathom House for me on Saturday.”
“Absolutely not! I’m not spending my whole day up here in this dusty mansion.”
“Fine, just close for me that night. Four hours max. I want to watch the king’s speech live. Our Erebor exhibit is our most popular after all!”
Bilbo would have pointed out it was because of the mystery surrounding the shiny mathoms, but didn’t want to have to get into it with Odo. A few hours weren’t the worst thing. He could bring up his novel considering he would expect just a ton of traffic during that time anyways.
“Fine. You have a deal.”
Odo merely smirked before backtracking on his perfectly functioning ankle to retrieve the keys. 
***
Roughly thirty minutes later, Bilbo was pulling up in front of a modest brick home with brightly colored flowers in the planter boxes in front of the porch. Oakenshield got out of the car first, taking in the house before looking down at his blood stained jacket with a grimace. Bilbo winced wishing he had thought of that earlier. He quickly shrugged his way out of the paramedic jacket he was still wearing.
“Here.” He offered.
Oakenshield looked at the jacket, but still refrained from taking it.
“You’re practically two sizes smaller than me.” He pointed out.
“A size at the most! And it’s not really my jacket. Just take it! It will at least cover up the more…concerning aspects.”
Oakenshield grumbled but agreed as he gingerly took over his old jacket to put the new one on. It was the arm length that really accented how ill fitting the jacket was. So he rolled the sleeves up his forearm in the hopes to disguise it. Bilbo nodded at the look admiring it a bit too much as he headed up the porch to ring Prim’s bell. 
His nerves started to act up as they waited for her footsteps to head their way. His cousin could sniff a story out faster than she could serve tea. Bilbo just knew showing up out of the blue, carting Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome, she was going to give him that look. 
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safetyobstacles · 1 year ago
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starting o segredo na floresta now, im either gonna finish this in a week or its gonna take months good luck me
update - i love joui
joui, its a little cloudy out, roll for sanity. joe, you stubbed your toe, roll sanity. joui did you just frown???????? roll a sanity test with disadvantage. that was cool joui, you gain 1 sanity. just kidding somewhere in the netherlands a child tripped and scraped their knee, you lose 10 sanity.
i think im going to put my updates under the cut instead of spamming posts B) beware of spoil
UPDATE
if cellbit takes liz or thiago from me ill never forgive him
this bar has to be its own paranormal entity, thiago would have died if the gun had a bullet in it and cristopher nearly got knifed to death in their first fight loll
EP 2
npc thiago about to be the most useless mf ever i swear if he dies to a stray ant or something ill cry just put him in a box for safe keeping
what would i do without the mental image of joui dropkicking every monster he sees
liz why are you finger painting with the ooze monsters remains and why did it give you 1 hp ?????? NEVERMIND
EP 3
RACCOON bro has 8 health but he sure is happy
faz um teste de sanidade
when i said thiago was gonna die to an ant i didnt actually mean kill him with giant spiders
cristopher no please dont climb a tree these are spiders they can climb nah bro cristopher is dead af im gonna miss him. bro cellbit just kill him already bros dead 2 hp
damn
ep 4
at this rate luba doesnt even need to roll sanity we all know hes gonna fail anyways joui's having the worst two days of his life
jesus christ i just woke up i cant handle this shit cesar's punching a hole in my itty bitty heart bones
please stop talking about leticio's cacetinho
EP 5 how long is too long for a tumblr post btw
the starting soon screen replaced cris with arthur notlikethis
cellbit is far too happy about them going to this house i hate it i hate it
i would like for them to leave a casa now :))) they got gregório time to go :) DAMN JOUI JUST GOT STEAMROLLED BY THAT ZOMBIE ROLLED A 99 VS CELLS 1 jesus christ thiago LOL NO WAY GREGÓRIO IS DEAD AF bro was just taking a nap in the car and this is what he gets
that was horribly stressful its 3 am how am i supposed to sleep after that
to be fair, if i was rodolfo and liz didnt use the tazer, i would have just dragged gregório in front of arthur and killed him in right in front of his face soo...
ROLLED 100 LOOOOOOOOOOOOL a caverna
COOL GUY ALERT HOPE HE DOESNT KILL BRULIO HAHAhahaaa
EP 6 I HAVE GREAT ANXIETY THIS MESTRE GUY IS ABOUT TO KILL HALF THE SQUAD
luba i know youve been rolling absolute dog shit the last 5 episodes but this one really counts buddy brulio :(
most stressful hour of youtube ive ever sat through i cant believe they all lived
A PORTA FORTE
EP 7 im so glad they're going back to the house im so happy ive never wanted anything else this is great nothing could go wrong in this house nothing
7 episodes in and ive just now realised that he keeps talking about circles and spirals and those have significance with a certain element and now i want them to leave carpazinha go back home forget this ever happened
undressing with the homies in the haunted basement next to a dead old man
not thiago canonically talking to a bookshelf after complaining about joui's whispering to his shotgun
THIS GRAVE IS SO COMPLICATEDDDD I BET ITS FUCKING EMPTY THEYRE ARGUING ABOUT HOW TO "knock out" AN OLD LADY AND ITS PROBABLY JUST WORMS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE GRAVEEE
this whole graveyard scene has me in tears thiago staring at nothing while they try to get him to unmute, old guy on the phone, joui picking up the old lady i just laughed so hard i feel ill
the one time joui doesnt fail a roll he loses 6 SANITY?? 8 SANITY?????????????? SENHORA VOCE TA BEM????? YOU JUST CHOKED HER OUT JOUI WAIT SHES GONNA DIE??????????? SHES GOING TO DIE???????????? THE GASOLINE IN THE MOUTH??
grounded from the shotgun for 1 week
EP 8
Thiago's pants are still fucked up from last episode btw
about to have a tpk over alchohol poisoning
if cesar survives this campaign hes gonna put as many points possible into forgery
a caverna im goign fuckign crazy the god of tdeath pr spomething is in this cave theyre gonna walk inside trip on a pebble and get eaten by hundreds of tiny cave beetles
Victor is absolutely about to get his face eated by a spider and/or be swallowed by the cave
ok but santo berço looks kinda cool like i would live there
EP 9 he just (re?)released osnf merch but i refuse to be spoiled by absolutely anything ive done so well i will not be tainted by cesar's really cool green on black long sleeve
wait i love the gatekeeper its a shame this town is probably a hallucination and theyre all actually slowly dying in the middle of the forest GIANT COWS I LOVE THE GIANT COWS WITH REGULAR SIZED HEADS
????????????????????????????????FELPS??????????????????????
buttery butter
thiago this is why you should have quit smoking
?????FELPS?????????
EP 10 so if thiago hadnt used the lighter would felps still be alive, probably just would have died later B)
bro joui has got to buy new dice this is crazy
this is gonna be the average 2 star motel experience BRO JUST DABBED ON CESAR liz is about to get bodied by the hallway ghosts this is just like a regular motel HUH UHHHHHHH
no joui kill the hotel guy joui kill the hotel guy joui kill the hotel guy joui kill the hotel guy joui kill the hotel guy joui kill the hotel guy
mom i want to go home i dont want to stay in santo berço anymore jesus christ
EP 11 how am i supposed to just start the next episode after that i think the mental image of brulio beating arthurs skull in is burned into my brain space
sandwich sandwich
i love the giant cows so much i want one GIANT CHICKEN LAY GIANT EGG I LOVE THE GIANT CHICKEN intimidating the human sized pig
EP 12 still thinking about how cellbit thought new zealand was so close to europe, he was so sure of it that he was making me unsure of where i knew new zealand was
both times thiago was played by cellbit some horrific shit happened so with arthur being an npc this episode im prepared for the worst also this starting soon screen is fucking wicked
are you telling me joui's max sanity is now 12 bros been losing it for so long hes stuck like this joui is the "damn, you live like this?" meme
CELLBO ROLEPLAYED TOO HARD HIS HEADSET JOINED AS AN ENEMY AND BEAT HIS SETUP
"that sounds like a book title" bro let the intrusive thought win
baby nidere
no way the cow has been suffering this whole time ill cry
theyre about to rp their way into an angry medieval mob when they get found with the body of the dead gatekeeper B) does santo berço have dungeons, bc if they do thats where theyll be sleeping tonight nvm the gatekeeper has demons inside him sorry joui HUh no way they killed the gatekeeper dude wtf
EP 13 chat's a bit excited to go in the cave guys if anyone reads this what am i supposed to do once i finish this season. what do you mean i just have to go onto desconjuração. what do you mean i have to leave this story behind. please let me keep all the characters in this one.
THE CAVE MAP IS COOOOOOL THE LIGHT MOVES WITH THE MINER everyone struggling to flip their characters 5 mins into the cave made me laugh so hard i had to pause to breathe
I LOVE MOLES DUDE THEYRE SO COOL ok but i dont love this many moles BRO I LOVE MOTHS TOO THIS IS AWESOME wait no i hate bats THIS MOTH IS SUFFERINGGGGG
THE SUCC hes about to kill them all with the Succ out of spite thiago never mock one of cellbit's monsters again ARTHUR ZIUM
door door door door door door door door door door the gatekeeper is alive???
ih arthur nah dude let go of cesar :(((((((((((( gotta hand it to arthur hes survived two of these situations now get it, hand it to him, CAUSE HE LOST HIS FUCKING ARM WTF HIS ARM DETATCH LIKE A LEGO sorry i vote we still kill the gatekeeper just in case just to be safe
EP 14 did cellbit have a past traumatic experience with a vacuum is that why he created the Succ
agatha?????? bro agatha's life sucked big pp
every time cellbit says hes excited for something i grow more afraid
if they kill and eat the gatekeeper would he also taste delicious just wondering
i think i might know the reason why 12 sanity joui has a funky grey form but 55 sanity thiago doesnt, but maybe im crazy nevermind thiago had the funky grey within him this whole time wait does that mean hes gonna die if santo berço dies DAMN
joui just really wants to see thiago naked also hes just blatantly stealing arthur's knife he really is losing all his sanity that was possibly the most unconvincing "nada" ive ever heard
EP 15 before i start a new episode i always go to the vod on twitch and watch the memes first so i can go "hehe" for five minutes, and then go "oh no" for the next 4 hours
hypothetically, if joui managed to get the symbol on him before anyone noticed would he have just lost all 12 of his sanity and gone mad cuz that would have been crazy :,)
this is it cellbit is finally going to kill npc thiago joui is so very happy about his shotgun i thought maybe he was getting better but hes whispering to it again
alright whats up with cellbit and the outwards opening doors because i swear i have never seen a door that opens out instead of in, are all the doors like that in his home these doors are made to have creatures attack from inside ih i just checked like 3 times to make sure i was on the right episode lmaoooo
"pobre martha" DAAAAAAMN MARIANA ICE COLD
one buff woman vs all 3 equipe kelvin who will win (1 woman) crazy that equipe kelvin managed to accomplish what took our group 9 episodes to get to lool they even got the leticio cacetinho dlc, but they did skip the spider boss fight and the entire house level
THE BLACKSMITH IS MIGUEL AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
EP 16 the joui, liz, and arthur cosplay look like theyre going to a nice dinner meanwhile thiago, kenan, and cesar just look homeless
idk if thiago's making it out of this one :,) maybe we just take thiago's weapons its not like he can do much to help anyways kenan wants to skin him listen brother i dont think thats gonna work im at the 52 min mark and cellbit is acting sus af the blacksmith is about to appear and stomp them all or something
joui would roll a 99 and nearly knife cesar and liz is trying so hard not to metagame her way to the explosive backpack loving how trigger happy joui is right now go on guys give him more explosives what the worst that could happen
is kenan also a wellspring do they have to kill him cuz thats gonna be kind of awkward and on that note since thiago has the symbol on him does that make him a wellspring too ill cry i will cry
NOT JOUI APOLOGIZING FOR LYING ABOUT HIS SAMURAI ANCESTRY
damn that scene between joui, liz, and thiago was the best in the entire season
i would like to take this moment before they all get swallowed alive by some horrible sludge tentacle monster to proclaim my absolute hatred of Santo Berço. I know i said at the end of episode 8 that i thought it looked cool but im over it ive moved past that point in my life i hate Santo Berço
BIG GOOEY MEATBALL
"the people are happy here!" says the blacksmith as he currently has 5 people forcefully locked up for decades that have gone mad with probably no way of ever regaining their sanity i just realised miguel and the old blacksmith fucked and had a kid
final boss aboutta come crawling out of the meatball please stop trying to skin thiago the symbol isnt gonna come off
THAT WAS SICK AF THEYRE ALL DEAD AS HELL
???????????????????? "kenan you have one last sane move before i take your character and throw him off a cliff"
:(
post i made after i finished osnf (made like 3 days later because i was so so so so so so so so so so sad)
https://www.tumblr.com/safetyobstacles/739056899257942016/i-finished-osnf-after-almost-2-months-and-you-know?source=share
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sakarrie-creates · 2 years ago
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Super messy Huntlow WIPs for Valentine’s Day! I have ADORED season 3's angst and this mental image has been haunting me for like two weeks. I was listening to Home by Phillip Phillips (which man that artist name is hilariously fitting to some Huntlow angst lol) and the lyrics just felt SO much like these two to me that I had to draw it. Of course, at the start, I had no intentions of posting or coloring or anything beyond getting the concept onto paper, so now I’ve shot myself in the foot cause I never finished the lineart stage oops. Hence the messy everything. xD Anyway, not sure I’ll ever finish these cause adding details and cleaning up lineart post-coloring/filters is such a pain, but I wanted to make a Huntlow post in honor of Valentine’s Day! Please accept my humble offering. Hopefully I’ll be posting some cleaner Huntlow art soon cause I don’t think this brainrot is going anywhere lol.
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hellhound5925 · 10 months ago
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Welcome to the next Chapter ☺️ I have decided to post once a week and I’m going to try to stick to Tuesdays so mark it on your calendars! Also, I will like the previous and following chapters in each of these posts to make life easier for those of you who might just be joining us. I hope you enjoy!
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Cyare Verd
*OC Raven x Hunter
Previous: Chapter One
Chapter Two: Spoils of War
Sleep has never come easy for me. Every time I close my eyes - even for a few minutes - the image of the surface of my home world, left to be nothing but ash. Followed by the night I thought Aspen and I would die…
After hearing news of the bombardment Aspen and I were at one of the many cantinas of Ord Mantell drowning our sorrows. After everything, we needed some time to mourn and think through our next move. It was too risky to make the trip to Mandalore with everyone looking for me and my family.
Since others had found out about what we were doing, a bounty had been placed on our heads. Most people weren’t dumb enough to mess with a mandalorian let alone two so Aspen and I stuck together.
Only after Aspen mouthed off - like she tends to do when she's drunk - to the bartender did some di’kutla (fool/idiot) try to make a move. He came for me first and even though my body didn’t do exactly what I wanted it to, he went down with little fight.
I knew we had quite a bit to drink but I can hold my liquor. Nothing was adding up.
It wasn’t until the rest of the merc’s filed in did I realize it was bad. My vision began to blur and patrons were running out screaming. My head spun at the chaos. Sober, we could have made it out. But it almost seemed like we had been drugged.
Before I had time to process, I was shoved to the ground and hands bound behind me as the same was done to Aspen. The familiar click of a blaster safety as the barrel was pushed against my temple. The cold metal biting my skin. If there was ever a moment I needed my beskar it would have been this one. Too little too late.
Hunter
Raven woke with a startle, smacking her head on the bunk above her. The sound echoed through my bones and up through the walkway where the others took notice. Her breathing was so ragged, it pounded in my head. The horrors of whatever she was dreaming were all over her face.
"Everything okay?" I asked, preparing for a snarky response.
"Yeah, fine" She snaps, brushing it off.
Echo and I exchange a look. We’ve both seen that before, the days after Echo was rescued from Skakko minor.
Our eyes meet briefly before she stands and moves toward the fresher. The haunted look in her eyes causes my chest to tighten. Only when the door clicks shut do I let out a breath and run a hand through my hair.
Something broke her between Kamino and here. I resist the urge to comfort her but what would I say? She’s practically a stranger.
“What is it?” Echo asks as if he’s the one with enhanced senses.
Sighing heavily, and tear my eyes away from the door.
“We uh, we spoke on Kamino a few times. She trained some of the other Commandos.”
Echo smiles at me like he knows something I don’t.
“I knew it was her.”
He laughs at the confusion written on my face.
”No offense Hunter but even back then we knew something was up.”
”What do you mean?”
”You never could take your eyes off her.”
The thing about Echo is he has always called things as he sees them. This time I’m not sure I’m happy to be the one he calls out.
As on cue, the console alarm goes off for the jump out of hyperspace. Mentally I thank whatever powers at be for coming to my aid.
“We’re coming out of hyperspace.”
Raven
Mumbling to myself I place both hands on either side of the sink.
“I don’t need their sympathies.”
Splashing some water on my face and trying to shake off the images from my dream, I collect myself. There is a slight rattle in the ship indicating we’ve likely excited hyper space. I quickly rebraid my hair and secure it in a bun at the back of my neck.
Opening the door to the fresher Hunter is there as if he was about to knock.
"We're here" is all he says.
Understanding. His expression was one of understanding. Not pity like I’d expected. The walls I’ve built around myself threaten to come down.
To avoid further conversation, I quickly exit the fresher, grabbing my helmet on the way and join the others as we prepare for landing.
————
Serenno - as much as I almost hate to admit it - is beautiful, the lush grass and forest that seems mostly undisturbed. I can almost imagine myself camping out under the stars.
In the background the boys are arguing about how they should be doing 'more' to fight against the Empire. I can't say I blame them, with a group like this they could do enough damage and tell the Empire to nar'sheb (shove it).
Yet I roll my eyes at brothers fighting. Mine have done this time and time again. Sometimes I’d take bets on who would throw the first punch if it was bad enough - it was usually Ordo.
Sliding my helmet on, I turn back to the boys with hands on my hips.
“Are we going or what?”
They all stop and look at me like something important was interrupted. But let's face it…they were getting nowhere.
Hunter is the one who gives me a sidelong glance. A challenging smirk tugs at my lips and I tip my visor up to meet his gaze. One eyebrow raises and a shadow of an amused smile hides under the skull tattoo. For whatever reason that has my stomach doing a flip. I spin on my heel and strut towards the woods. His eyes were no doubt on me the whole time.
“She’s right we need to get moving.” I hear him say behind me.
We make our way up a large mountain in silence to get a good vantage point. The trees provide enough cover from the sun I mentally thank whatever powers that be its not unbearably hot.
"That's the city?" I scoff seeing all the imperial ships.
"What happened to it?" Asks Wrecker.
"Imperial orbital bombardment. Same as Kamino." explains Echo.
"They bombed Kamino too?" I guess I was so caught up on my own stuff to hear about it. A chill rakes down my spine. Unable to suppress it, their attention is drawn to me. Echo’s helmeted head tilts from me to Hunter whose eyes are still on the city below. The latter is the one who speaks.
“Mandalorian’s aren't the only ones who lost their home.” His words strike deep, the tone meant to be of understanding.
Once again, I find myself turning my attention towards him. It’s anyone’s guess what he’s looking at but there’s no doubt he can see me staring. The half skull painted on the same side of his helmet as his face. For once I don’t think my visor is the most intimidating one here. There’s something quite attractive about it.
Tech looks through his binoculars and speaks, getting us back on track. "It appears that they are beginning to transport the war chest off-world."
I drag my attention away from Hunter and flip through my HUD to see what he's looking at.
"Our window of opportunity then” Hunter speaks like maybe he was too busy paying attention to notice me.
"It's quickly closing" Tech continues.
A moment of silence washes over the group as we continue to observe.
Hunter shifts "There's over 40 troopers down there."
I scan around making note of where they are and their patrol patterns. Scoffing, I stand and brush the dirt off my knees. “And?”
"That's nothing!" Wrecker says, enthusiastically slamming his fists together.
Three visors snap his direction as if he isn’t taking it seriously. “I agree with Wrecker” I add flipping my thumb over my shoulder at him.
"Stealth, Wrecker. Remember?" Echo says, causing me to chuckle - I’m not sure how someone so large can be stealthy.
"Imperial escort ships” Tech continues. My attention drifting towards them.
"That's standard protocol for when high-level cargo is being transported." I say matter of factly. My turn to have all visors on me. I throw my hands to surrender. "At one point we were all a part of their army, remember.”
"Get to the nearest container and grab what you can" Hunter barks at us. His tone sparks something in my blood. "I'll be eyes on the ground. If things go sideways, I'll divert their forces and buy you some time."
I tilt my visor in his direction, "that’s too much for one person. I can help." If he thinks he can order me, he’s wrong. He shakes his helmet covered head.
"No, I'll be fine, now go.”
I huff an annoyed sigh and glare daggers at him - not that he can see through my visor - hoping he feels the sharpness of them.
The rest of us all head down the hill in silence before - other than Wreckers thunderous steps - taking cover behind some trees.
"In position. And the second transport's launching" Echo’s voice comes over our com channel.
"We've got roving patrols. Stay alert." Hunter commands.
A figure - I now realize is Hunter's - darts onto the landing pad. I watch as he tactfully places detonators on a few of their escort ships. As if he didn’t trust me to do that.
“I coulda done that” I sass.
His winded voice comes back over coms. “We need as many as we can to get the crates.”
Echo interrupts "Let's go.”
I follow reluctantly, rolling my eyes.
When we approach one of the chests, Wrecker takes out one of the troopers with one swift movement which earns a look from the others.
"What? I did it quietly" he throws his hands up in defense.
"Yeah, but they will definitely notice when he doesn't report in" Tech scolds him climbing into the first container and the rest of them follow.
"Well, let's be gone by then” I hesitate for a moment before continuing, “I'm going to head to the next container over, I'll catch up with you guys."
"You shouldn't go alone" Tech says to me.
"I'll be fine" is a poor attempt to dismiss him.
If I can go alone Cid won't know what I have and don't show her. Tech turns to Echo like he’ll back him up. Only he doesn’t say anything.
“You don’t trust me.”
“We simply do not know you.”
I sigh in annoyance standing my ground. “Don’t think that I’m not capable of loyalty just because I have no one left to be loyal to.”
A few tense seconds past and I realize we are just wasting time. “Fine” I climb in behind them.
————
"Woah so this is what a war chest looks like" Wrecker says in awe.
Sliding the door mostly shut behind me, I glance around the room. Floor to ceiling boxes that are full of what I can only imagine. Personally, I've never been much of a thief. Honest work is much more satisfying - another reason why Cid was never my favorite - but again, here we are.
Tech speaks as we begin to look around "Our priority is anything of high value.”
"Like what?" Wrecker asks. I now realize that Wrecker is basically a large child at times.
"Well I suppose anything shiny or heavy is probably a good start.”
Together we work for a while to determine what is worth taking and put it into one of the emptier crates.
There's enough in here I'd never have to take another Osik (crap) job again. I could even disappear.
Tech speaks breaking the silence, “How did you come to know Cid?”
Halting my movements, realizing he’s talking to me. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
”You want us to trust you. Yet you won’t tell us about you.”
My temper starts to flare, ”I’m not worth knowing. Okay?”
Echo cocks his head in confusion. Yes, he opened up to me but that doesn’t mean I’m just willing to talk about me.
“What I’ve heard about you on Kamino says otherwise.” He says carefully.
I turn back to picking through crates. Their eyes feel heavy on my back, turning my head slightly. The three are standing there staring at me. They really aren’t going to let it go.
“Everyone that gets to know me either gets hurt or dies” My voice is so soft it doesn’t even sound like my own. No one comments and they go back to work in silence.
Aspen's face being shoved into the carpet with a blaster also pointed at her head flashes in my mind. Even though she was smirking, I could see the real fear in her eyes. We thought that was it.
Taking a breather, I head towards the door and peek out to look for patrols. The trooper Wrecker knocked out is still out cold on the floor next to me.
Conversation seems to pick up and I listen while staying on look out.
"Woah" Wreckers voice echoes in the container. "How could all of this belong to one person?".
A sigh, "A lot of this probably came from the worlds Dooku and the Separatists controlled."
"Grab as much as you can.”
The unconscious trooper’s com goes off as another one tries to get ahold of him.
”Osik (shit)” I mumble. Just as two troopers around the corner. Fumbling to quiet the troopers link, I open ours to Hunter.
"Hunter, I think we're about to have some company."
Next thing I know, there's an explosion. Jumping up I help the others finish getting the crates around. “That’s our distraction. Oya!”
An alarm sounds shortly thereafter, even through my helmet is ear piercing. As if on cue, Hunter's voice fills my ears “I'm on my way to you.”
"Let's speed this up. Wrecker, that one goes first" I take charge not really meaning to, but no one objects.
Wrecker picks up the container and heads out to meet Hunter. Just as he makes it out the door begins to shut. I grab onto the sides and pull, trying to keep it open.
“A little help would be great!” I grunt out, straining against the door.
Echo rushes over to the port and connects his socket to it. Our comms buzz.
"The ship's taking off. Get out of there" Hunter sounds worried.
"Hurry Echo!” I yell, my fingers getting closer to being crushed.
“Let it go. There’s nothing I can do from here.”
Once I let go, the door shuts sealing us in. We all look to Echo for any kind of update but it's like he’s in a trance. I can honestly say I’ve never seen anything like it.
After a few moments he speaks, voice strained "It's externally sealed. I can't open it."
I comm Hunter, "Hunter we're trapped in the container. We can't get out."
"On our way" Hunter replies.
I take a few hurried moments to look around to see if there's another way out. Tapping at the walls to see if there's a hollow one we can cut through I continue my search but it's taking too long.
"Hunter, where are you?" The question comes over the comms.
"Sorry, we Got a little sidetracked. You need to get off that ship before it jumps to hyperspace" he continues sounding winded.
Tech puts a hand to his chin thinking for a moment, "If we gain access to the ship's main hold, we could commandeer an escape pod—“
“—Do it. We'll get to the Marauder and recover you.”
After moving some containers my search finally produces some results, "There! We should be able to get into the rest of the ship from there" I yell towards the others and point at the hatch to the maintenance panel.
Tech comes over, and gives his assessment before nodding.
"Are you sure this hatch will lead into the ship?" Echo asks.
Tech looks at his datapad. "If I am incorrect, we will instantly be sucked out and perish. I am seldom wrong."
I roll my eyes. "Ba'gedet'ye (you're welcome)" comes out under my breath. Echo must have heard me because he lets out a light laugh.
The door slides open.
"Congratulate yourself after we escape". Echo's sass makes me giggle and Tech tips his helmet towards me, probably giving me a look. He looks back down at his datapad.
"The closest escape pod is five corridors away."
I peer around the corner down the hall. "Let's get going then.”
Drawing a blaster (my westar-35) from my hip and head out with the others behind me. Tech and Echo carrying another container. We make our way down a few different hallways per Techs directions.
Once we get closer to the escape pods a door slides open and troopers step out "Freeze" one of them yells. Echo and Tech drop the container. The three of us duck behind it as a barrier.
With a quick glance between the three of us I make a split-second decision. My armor will hold up against blaster bolts. There's will not. Decision made.
I nod to myself for a brief pep talk.
“What are you going to do?” Echo asks.
Whipping around to peek over, I tell him, “Cover me.”
In one smooth motion, I slide over the top of the container landing on two feet. Bolts of blaster fire begin to fly past me, forcing my HUD to adjust to their brightness.
Crossing my arms in front of my body, I use my vambraces to block the shots coming for my visor as I move closer to the troopers. Even through my beskar, the shock of them sting - But far less than it would for the two in plastoid. I can feel bruises already forming under my skin.
Tech and Echo return fire from behind me, taking out a few of them. I swore to myself I would never harm clone troopers, only stun if it came to it. Once I’m close enough I can tell they aren’t. So death it is then.
I eject my blade from my vambrace with a skunk that's barely audible over the sound of blaster fire, and plant in just above the collar bone one trooper. He goes down with little struggle once the blade is gone. His body now becomes a shield taking the brunt of the bolts for me. I drag him with me for as long as I can while shooting my way through the others.
Fighting my way through them seems to be never ending. With that being said, I can hold them off long enough for the others to escape.
"Find another way to the escape pods!" I yell over the comms. Even though my helmet I can already smell the scoring left behind by the blasters.
"They just ejected all the escape pods!" Echo yells back.
Cursing under my breath in Mando’a, I drop the body of the trooper I’ve been dragging. Two of them take the opportunity to lunge at me - fortunately I’m able to get a shot off as the three of us hit the floor.
"Go- Get out of here!" I yell, trying to shove the now limp trooper off me. Just as I do, the other one crawls over me towards his blaster. It landed out of reach further above my head. Rolling onto my stomach I reach for the knife in my boot and cram it into his calf. His pained cry echoes through the all too quiet hallway.
With a quick glance behind me the other troopers are now incapacitated in a heap of limbs. Electricity arcing between them. By the time I swing my attention back to the trooper in front of me, his blaster is aimed at my helmet.
Using my arms I block the front of my head for the impact. A lone shot echoes through the space but the impact never comes. As I lift my eyes slowly from behind my arms, the trooper is face down on the ground unmoving. A hole through the side of his helmet. Tech is standing over him with a hand outstretched holding a smoking blaster. Plastoid. What a joke.
I take the opportunity to catch my breath and roll onto my back. "Do you trust me now?" I grunt.
”I suppose.” Tech’s matter of fact reply.
“Vor’e (thanks)” my tone is quite sarcastic.
"Ba'gedet'ye (you're welcome)" Echo hollers back. Then it clicks, ah me must have been the one in Cid's Parlor who laughed at what I said to her.
————
We take a few moments to catch our breath and come up with a plan. "There has to be another way off this ship" Tech says which has Echo simmering with irritation.
"Other than over taking this vessel, what do you suggest?" He sasses.
Wait a second. Idea. "Hey, aren’t these containers equipped with reentry thrusters?” Both Echo and Tech shift their visors towards me. I shrug. Tech goes back to his datapad.
"You are correct. I am impressed. However, the containers must be ejected before leaving the atmosphere, which means our window is rapidly closing.”
"Great, this just keeps getting worse" I sigh.
"Come on, we need to hurry," Echo says, taking the lead.
We carefully make our way back to the container we came from, taking out any troopers we cross paths with.
"How much time do we have?" Echo checks in.
"Very little" Tech says in his usual tone.
Finally making it into the container, Tech immediately goes to work on the panel on the wall "initialing cargo release".
I steady myself, cursing in mando’a as my stomach drops and the cargo starts to free fall. After a few very long moments - and a lot more cursing - nothing happens. We’re still in a free fall.
"When are the reentry thrusters supposed to fire?" Echo asks.
Tech thinks for a moment. "They should have by now."
“Great. Suddenly I’m wishing the troopers had just finished the job!” My irritation is boiling over.
I make my way to the cargo net on unsteady feet, with Echo and Tech in tow. Echo and I make it first and just as we turn to help Tech but the container turns over. Thankfully he holds on but his feet are hanging in the air, "that is going to be a problem" he voices.
“Thanks Captain Obvious!”
Next Chapter
Wattpad link here.
Taglist: @cloneloverrrrr @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @idoubleswearimawriter @techs-goggles9902 @clonethirstingisreal
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emmy-dekarios-bg3 · 2 months ago
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Heart of the Weave - chapter 35
Gale and I step into the building of the Inn after a fresh stroll through Waterdeep, which smells of freshly baked sourdough bread and blueberry muffins. Quite the pleasure to the senses, I must say. It reminds me of innocent days where my mother would bake me a delicious homemade breakfast twice a week before going to the temple to pray to Sȇlune. As we enter the Inn, I notice a couple high elves and a dwarf playing some morning tunes on the lute and flutes to set the mood for those morning people. Rolan is sitting down at a table alone with his cup of coffee. Rolan’s face lights up as he notices us approach him.
“Ah! My friends, come sit!” Gale and I accompany him at the table and immediately a waitress hands us our menus. “It’s good to see you both. And how nice it is to get away for a little while.”
“How has it been at the tower?” Gale asks with a welcoming tone. “Are you practicing becoming a master wizard? I wouldn’t doubt it if you’re there already.”
“Ah, you’re too kind. Unfortunately, I’m not where I want to be just yet. I’m only improving every day. I’m having to partake in my studies more frequently, as well as teaching Cal and Lia the wonders of magic. Just in case anything happens to me. Enough about my life story.” He studies our baby, smiling but looking rather perplexed. “Say, you’ve had your baby for a while now, right? Or am I going mad as a hatter?” Crap! We never told him our situation and that Jenevelle won’t ever age.
“Whew, it’s a very long story, but here it goes,” I mentioned, mentally preparing myself for his reaction. I go into detail with him about what happened with Jenevelle and how the devils needed her soul to destroy Raphael. How we were promised immortality and that the outcome would have been torture if we didn’t do what we did. As I explain, he looks rather astonished and I can’t exactly tell if he’s judging me.
“Oh Gods, I’m… I’m so sorry. That could not have been an easy predicament to be in. I’m glad it all worked out in the end, at least.” Abruptly, as Gale begins speaking to Rolan, the sounds around me become muffled and my vision fades to darkness, but like a cloud of smoke. This has happened to me before, ages ago…right after I had Jenevelle. Images of Gortash, Orin, and even Ketheric appear right in front of my very eyes, and it’s as if they’re actually here. Holy shit.
“Hello Emmy.” Gortash’s voice still sounds the same, though I can tell hatred is being spat right at me. I swallow the fear and horror as his haunting voice speaks to me. Tell me I’m fucking dreaming and this isn’t happening. I guess if mind flayers can change forms and hags can curse people, anything is possible.
“Well, are you going to say anything, or just sit there silently, mentally squirming at our words as we claw our way into your soul? You’re wasting every second that could be used to slaughter every breathing piece of flesh left standing,” Orin teases, flashing her bloody teeth as she smiles.
“Quiet, Orin. Emmy, dear, we’ve been watching you. My, you are quite the impressive specimen, killing not only all three of us, but the netherbrain itself. You even destroyed countless assassins of Bhaal. I’m impressed. It’s a shame you didn’t put that talent to use and dominate the brain like I instructed before. So inconsiderate and stupid.”
I try to speak, but I’m interrupted by Ketheric’s haunting voice.
“If you make a single sound, your husband, your friend, and everyone else in this building will hear you. Choose wisely,” he growls, smirking at me. I clench my fists, feeling rage flush through me as I fight off the urge to speak.
“Now, as I was saying,” Gortash retorts, cracking his knuckles. “Imagine all of the lives you could have saved by dominating the brain. You could have controlled all the Bhaal cultists –”
“No, no, no, no, NO! You tyrant, are you listening to yourself?!”
“Unlike you, Orin, I crave control. Power. Not the deaths and flesh of millions of people. Not the screams of the innocent begging for mercy.” This is absolute chaos. Why do they feel the need to harass me, even after their deaths? How is this even happening? They must have been the unsettling presence I felt last night; what else could it be? So many questions are rummaging through my head, gnawing at my brain like animals.
“You will pay for what you did. On the contrary…we are able to summon another elder brain,” Gortash adds. How I want to respond to his pathetic words, how I want to pin him against a wall and kill him again.
“If our gods are willing to provide the means of this happening,” Ketheric chimes in, his eyes practically staring Gortash down as a means of dominance, which is a foolish idea. They must not realize I’m immortal. If they do, they’re really good at pretending to be completely unaware. What I do know is that they know something I don’t; at least Gortash does. His disturbing and ominous smirk is hinting that he’s hiding some sort of secret from me.
“Oh, poor little baby, too afraid to speak. To cry. To do our bidding or ask questions.” Orin laughs as she speaks, licking her bloody fingers as she gazes hauntingly into my soul with her pale eyes. Gortash closes his eyes.
“We’ll speak again soon.” Those words alone were the most disturbing out of everything he said; what does he mean by that? I know damn well Gortash is keeping something from me, and it’s making me uncomfortable on every level.
My vision is back to normal and I can hear every sound around me now; was time somehow frozen? It appears Gale and Rolan are completely unaware of my temporary absence from reality. The waitress comes back again to take our order, just shortly after I zone back in, but I’m too stunned to speak.
“What would you like to eat, my love?” Gale asks with a kind smile on his face. I order the strawberry cream pancakes, which honestly sounds beyond incredible right now. I look down at Jenevelle, who is lying comfortably in my baby-wearing wrap. She reaches up at me, gazing at me with her sweet, angelic brown eyes as if she’s saying, ‘It will be okay mommy.’
I hate that I saw those three again. I hate that Gortash tried to guilt trip me for not dominating the brain. Why can’t they just stay dead like everyone else who passes away? I want to tell Gale about this, but will he believe me? It all sounds ridiculous when I think it through.
As we finish our breakfast, I hear the door open and, surprise, here comes Karlach and Wyll, who we seem to bump into a lot considering Waterdeep is a relatively large city.
“Rolan? Emmy? GALE?!”
“Karlach, why are you the most surprised to see me?” Gale questions with bewilderment. I stand up and bolt toward them. Karlach greets me with open arms, ready to embrace me with one of her famous hugs, but all I can think about is how anxious I am.
“Karlach! Listen, I need to talk to you. Could you and Wyll drop by later?”
“Sure thing, Em! Wait, what did you do?” I playfully roll my eyes and sit back down at the table. I let everyone chat to catch up, but Gale notices I’m not acting myself; he’s good at that. Damn it.
What pisses me off is that I had so many questions I needed to ask, but I couldn’t and those dead chosen bastards knew it. I’m not going to be playing their preposterous games. I need to let it go, maybe I’m overthinking the entire situation.
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lovelywingsart · 2 years ago
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Hello I'm not dead just extremely busy and burnt out because we leave for our yearly convention on Thursday and guess who's making an entirely new hammer for Heisenberg
This is what I have as of last night and I need to finish the front piece in order to paint it tomorrow because we leave for the hotel on Thursday
This thing is fucking huge, about 4+ feet in length. It nearly comes up to my shoulder.
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Real talk, I would have had it done about a month ago had everything not happened at once... My moms accident, plus the depression and fuckery at work, its been... bad. Really bad mentally. So I've been crunching making this thing, I hate looking at it because it makes me depressed but I'm almost done and its already so much better than my old one and ill post a comparison image when it's done but like.
I've been chipping away at this for about 3 fucking weeks, if not a straight month because of everything happening. I haven't been able to do art, barely been able to sleep because I've been staying up late to work on it (between 1-3am when I need to wake up between 7-8am), this thing has been haunting me and I despise it
But also my cosplay is gonna be so much better for it, I can hold it WITHOUT the handle threatening to snap because I used PVC pipe as the base instead of wooden dowles AND i can swing it around. Might add more glue for the gears to add a tad bit MORE stability, but right now I can swing it and it won't break and thats what matters. Its also heavy as fuck for me too, and it'll be hell carrying it for 2 days... but it'll be fun.
Maybe.
Anyway, I'm back off to work, I'm gonna finish this bitch tonight, paint tomorrow, and be ready by Thursday. I'm gonna do it. And then after the convention I can focus on art fucking FINALLY.
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complete-in-ix · 8 months ago
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Arf! Arf!
Rating: E
Warning(s): Explicit sexual content, dom/sub, heavy petplay, hypnokink in the form of modified clicker training (snapping instead of a clicker tool), praise kink, strap-ons, oral sex, dacryphilia, cock stepping, mild degradation kink, spit as lube, minor masochism, no prep because I forgot to write it in ✌️🤪, anal sex, barebacking, oral fixation, spanking, come marking, breeding kink, knotting, come eating, cunnilingus, slight scent kink, leg humping, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation. Also trans Sumin and pathetic down atrocious puppy sub Jinsik because I'm a pathetic down atrocious trans puppy sub and I say so.
Description: Jinsik thinks that he has it in him to be bratty. Sumin welcomes him to try.
(Read on AO3)
All is silent in the xikers dorms. Today is a rare day off now that Red Sun promotions are over, so the members have decided to spend it accordingly. Minjae and Yechan have gone off to the studio, Junmin and Hunter are in the practice room helping Hyunwoo sharpen his dance skills, Seeun has dragged Yujun out with their manager for a day hitting the malls, and Junghoon is at another rehab appointment. This just leaves the two lovebirds Sumin and Jinsik together in the dorm for some long-awaited alone time. 
Their morning was spent curled in each other’s arms, the ever-disciplined Sumin slipping into Jinsik's room and bed as soon as his usual morning alarm had gone off. Jinsik had turned his own alarm off the night before, so they got to sleep in and dream of each other until almost noon. Sumin had made brunch for them after they woke up, and they ate together before going out for a walk around town. 
They’ve since returned home and are nestled on the couch together, enjoying the silence and each other’s company… Until Jinsik breaks the silence.
"You know yeobo, I'm starting to get a little tired of always having to obey you." 
Sumin's hand doesn't stop petting Jinsik's hair, nor does Jinsik lift his head out of Sumin's lap. Jinsik does, however, roll over just a little so he can look Sumin in the eye. He's met with a casual raised eyebrow.
"Do you mean in general or in bed?" Sumin is calm as ever. That's what Jinsik loves about him, he never escalates based on assumptions, always talks things out until they're clear with him. Jinsik is so lucky.
"In bed," Jinsik answers. He schools his face into a pout despite how much he wants to smile instead; he has to show Sumin that he's serious, after all! "I know we both feel good when I listen to you, but I'd like to take control for once. I bet I could make you beg for me just like I do for you." He finally lets himself smile at that. The mental image has been haunting him for weeks now; Sumin spread out on his bed, aching and begging for Jinsik to give him some relief. He wouldn't even need his cock to please Sumin, he knows the effect that just the sight of his tongue has on him! His train of thought is interrupted by a soft huff of laughter from Sumin.
"I'm sure you could, jagiya." Sumin yields to him far too easily, like he's watching a cute puppy trying to unlock a gate. Jinsik ignores how that nonchalant attitude strikes up an almost desperate heat in his gut. Both of them know that Jinsik is the strongest member without even having to work out. He could easily overpower Sumin and take whatever he wants from him. He just needs to take the initiative.
"Yeah, I could, so I will!" Jinsik declares, hammering in his point by brushing Sumin's hand aside and shoving him down so he's lying across the couch. Yet again, he goes down far too easily—with a smile, even—and even more frustratingly, doesn't shift his hips up to help Jinsik drag down his loose sweatpants. He quickly finds out why when his fingers catch on something on the way down and he's met with the sight of a very familiar black harness. It stops Jinsik in his tracks. It's been a while since they did anything past kissing in general, but even longer since Sumin has last worn that for him. The spark of heat in his gut blazes up into a wildfire.
"Still going to make me beg, pup?' Jinsik's brain is too busy leaking out of his ears to formulate a response to Sumin's teasing, let alone resist that all-too-fitting petname. He backs off as Sumin sits back up; can't—won't—touch him without permission. He thinks he shakes his head, he really can't tell if he did with how entranced he is at the sight of Sumin's strap. "Sit," Sumin commands with a snap of his fingers, and Jinsik bolts to the floor where he's pointing so fast that his knees bruise. The pain is nothing, losing his attempt at dominance is nothing, all he can focus on is Sumin's smiling face above him where he belongs. Sumin snaps again. "Speak."
"Woof!"
"Good boy~" Sumin cups his cheek with one hand, ruffles his hair with the other, and Jinsik is up so high that he can almost forget the throbbing need between his legs. "I'll forgive you if you bring my cock over here, pup. Can you do that for me?"
Jinsik nods so frantically that he almost bites his own tongue. Forgiveness, Sumin's cock, helping his master... He's a greedy pup, he wants it all.
"Such a sweet pup that I have~" Sumin coos, and Jinsik whimpers. "Now, you remember what pups don't do, right?"
Jinsik nods again; pups don't walk on two legs, pups don't use their hands, pups don't talk, pups don’t forget that the safeword is "Roady".
"Good boy, you're so smart!" Sumin praises, lightly shaking Jinsik's head around. Cuteness aggression, because Jinsik is a cute pup just for him. "I left it in my bag, now go fetch!"
Jinsik takes off on all fours almost before the command is finalized with a third snap of Sumin’s fingers. Not actually before, though, just almost. He's Sumin's good pup, he won't let him down. He finds Sumin's bag easily, it being just on the other chair next to the couch, and unzips it just as easily with his teeth. He sort of wishes that Sumin would wear sweatpants less often so he could open some other kind of zipper with his teeth… He shakes the thought out of his head; that's a conversation for another day. It only takes a little bit of messy pawing around inside the bag—his fingers carefully curled up so he doesn't break the rules—for him to find Sumin's cock; a long, thick, knotted green monstrosity—Minjae's words, not his (everyone now knows to never open Sumin's mail for him)—that makes Jinsik's jaw ache as he takes it into his mouth. He's already drooling around it as he trots back to Sumin and it's not even properly inside his mouth yet.
"'Good boy~" Sumin purrs upon his return. "You're so sweet, I've forgotten what I was about to punish you for" he says with an exaggerated pout as he takes his cock from his mouth. "That would have been mean of me to punish you for no reason, now wouldn't it? How about a treat instead?" Jinsik lights up even brighter than he had been before; if he had a tail, it would be wagging so hard that his whole body would be shaking.
"Woof!" He emphasizes his approving bark with a play-bow, ass up and chest so low that his shirt slides down to reveal his narrow waist. Perfect for Sumin to grab, right? Perfect to hold him in place with, right? He hopes he can convey his pleading with just his face, turned up towards Sumin at an angle that makes his neck hurt.
"Ooh, someone's eager~" Sumin teases as he kicks off his sweatpants. He has to take off the harness to put his strap-on together properly, shifting his hips up and—oh. He hadn't been wearing anything else other than that. He's also dripping, tdick standing red and proud and shining with slick. Jinsik's mouth floods with drool that he doesn't even bother to swallow down. He's been promised a treat, he can slobber for it as much as he wants! He can't help but whimper when Sumin clasps his strap back on and obscures Jinsik's view. "Naughty pup," Sumin chides, "were you hoping to get two treats?"
Jinsik's metaphorical tail stills its wagging. Could he? He averts his gaze from Sumin's cock to his eyes, chest prickling with shame. Sumin's face breaks from a playfully offended look into a smile.
"I know this is going to spoil you too much for your own good, but I'm doing it anyway," he sighs. “Come here.” Jinsik obeys, straightening up from his bow to rest his head in Sumin’s waiting hand. Sumin cradles him so gently as he shifts forward until Jinsik goes cross-eyed staring at his cock. "Cute,” he coos. He snaps with his free hand. It's quieter than the one he usually uses, but it's just as hypnotizing to Jinsik. “Get this nice and wet for me to fuck you with, and then you can taste the other one.” Jinsik doesn’t have to be told twice!
He opens wide for Sumin to shove his cock inside; waits like a good pup for that wonderfully mind-numbing weight on his tongue instead of taking it for himself. Sumin pulls him down by the hair, totally uncaring if Jinsik chokes or gags. Why would he care about something that won’t happen, after all? Jinsik’s mouth is deep enough that they wouldn’t have to worry about his gag reflex even if he had one. His eyes still water beyond belief despite this, spilling over as they roll back in his head. He chases the taste of his own tears as they mix with his spit on Sumin's cock; cis dick is apparently salty sometimes, so this must be an approximation of how Sumin feels when sucking Jinsik off. It feels like the fucking dream. 
“Such a good boy—fuck—I bet you’re leaking already,” Sumin curses, though Jinsik can hardly hear him over his own lewd slurping and muffled whimpers. He's hardly getting any time to breathe between thrusts, the back of his throat getting bullied into what he knows will get him a scolding from his vocal coach. Just the way he likes it. Sumin hooks a leg around his back and drags him closer until Jinsik has to brace his hands—still curled into paws—on Sumin's thighs for stability. He's leaking just like Sumin had predicted, has been leaking for a decent while by now. It's only just started to soak into his pants, wet and slick but still somehow sticky and fuck does it get to his head when coupled with the sting in his scalp. He wants—needs—to get off, so hard that he’s dizzy, would still be dizzy even if Sumin wasn’t fucking his throat like this. He’s rough enough that Jinsik can’t take his hands off his thighs to rut against them. A fresh wave of tears sting Jinsik’s eyes at the realization; usually Sumin gives him at least something! Then again, the leg that isn’t still hooked around his waist is right there, within Jinsik’s reach… The thought has Jinsik moaning around Sumin’s cock. It would be so dirty, so degrading to use Sumin like this; what kind of untrained, vulgar pup would he be to hump his master’s leg just for his own pleasure? He’ll be punished for it for sure… But the temptation is too appealing. He does his best to be subtle, make it look like he’s just scooting over to get comfortable—
—only for Sumin to lift up his heel and bring it down directly onto his cock. Not hard, thank fuck, but still with enough force to make Jinsik see stars. 
“Naughty pup,” Sumin scolds. He drags Jinsik off his cock as if to add to his punishment. Jinsik gasps out a ragged moan, tears and drool flowing freely down his face. “Your desperation is so obvious, it's kind of pathetic.” He grinds his heel just a tiny bit harder against Jinsik’s throbbing arousal and Jinsik can only moan and whine, weak to the pleasure-pain that only Sumin can give to him. 
He could come just like this, he realizes, even though this is new for both of them. Would Sumin let him, just this once? 
“Then again, I think I've strung you out for long enough. We'll talk about it later for next time, okay?” Jinsik whimpers in protest but nods anyway. Sumin is right, it’s better to wait and talk than risk a meltdown by pushing through. “Up.”
Sumin snaps his fingers again and Jinsik drags himself back onto the couch in an instant. The movement finally draws his attention to how damp he’s gotten, his sweat sticking his shirt to him and his pants sticky with precum. 
“Aww, poor pup~” Sumin coos when Jinsik whines. “Getting too hot there, aren't you?” He nods and Sumin snaps. “Paws up.” Jinsik obeys as soon as he’s stable on the couch, putting his arms up for Sumin to take off his shirt, and then falls back against the cushions and lifts his hips so Sumin can take off his pants and underwear. He can’t hold back his groan of relief when his skin is exposed to the air, head spinning too much to even be flustered at the exposure even when Sumin is raking his eyes over his body like he wants to devour him. “Fuck, you're so sexy,” he growls. “Do you have any idea how much I envy you? You don't even have to work for it, and your body is like this.” Sumin’s words are punctuated by his hands sliding up Jinsik’s sides, squeezing at his narrow waist and pressing him into the couch until his thumbs brush his nipples. Jinsik arches into the touch. “You're so sensitive, too~” Sumin pinches him, hard, and Jinsik yelps and tries to squirm out of his reach, but his cock—aching and red and leaking all over his stomach—jumps and gives him away. He never would have guessed that Sumin could turn him into such a masochist. Love does funny things. “Cute. I can't decide if I want to play with you or be inside you.” Jinsik whines in complaint; he needs Sumin inside him, now! Hasn’t he done all that he was supposed to? “Okay, okay, enough playing. Turn around.” Jinsik’s metaphorical tail gets right back to madly wagging as soon as their legs are untangled enough for him to obey. 
He presents just the way Sumin likes it; ass up, back arched, face pressed into the cushions. He gets a reverent hand tracing down his spine for his efforts that has him shivering. Sumin's touch is always so warm, so loving even when he’s punishing Jinsik. So gentle unlike the rough prod of his cock against his hole. 
“Remember to breathe, pup.” Is all the warning he gets before Sumin pushes his way inside; his unforgiving girth punching the breath out of his lungs and splitting him open with only Jinsik’s spit to ease the sting. 
“You like that, pup?” Sumin asks when Jinsik cries out. He slows down his less-than-gentle entrance for just a moment, pulling out slightly and returning to shove a pillow—now encased with Jinsik’s discarded shirt—under his hips. The rough, scratchy friction against his leaky cock borders on painful, yet he can’t stop himself from rutting against it; forward onto the pillow, backward onto Sumin’s cock, over and over until the pain blooms into pleasure. “This is easier than I thought it would be,” Sumin muses, one hand gripping Jinsik’s waist to steady him. “Have you been touching yourself when I’m not around?�� 
Jinsik muffles a broken whine into the couch cushions. Caught. 
“Come on, pup. Answer me clearly.” Sumin’s voice takes on an authoritative edge. The hand on his waist tightens hard enough to bruise, while the other snakes around his throat to pull him up. “You’re allowed to talk just this once,” he teases, only to hook two fingers into Jinsik’s mouth. “I mean, if you can~” he adds when Jinsik chokes on a moan. Jinsik decides not to answer right away. The pressure of Sumin’s fingers on his tongue is just too good to resist closing his mouth around them and sucking, circling his tongue around the thick digits until his mind goes blissfully blank. The sound of it all is filthy; Jinsik’s muffled whimpers between his lewd slurping and the creak of the couch springs beneath him as Sumin fucks his way inside. Jinsik can’t get enough. 
“Such a needy pup, always wanting something to suck on,” Sumin huffs. He drags his fingers out of Jinsik’s mouth and lightly slaps him across the face with them, leaving a wet streak behind. “Come on, pup. I still need an answer.” He snaps his fingers again. “Speak.”
“Yuh—yeah, I have been,” Jinsik slurs. It's so hard to form words after not needed to for so long; the motions of his jaw and tongue now unfamiliar to him. “Jus’ missed y’so much, need somethin’ in me, need y’to fuck me, please, please!” He twists around to face Sumin properly—beg him properly. “Jus’ move already, ‘ll be fine.”
Sumin shoves his face back into the cushions. The new angle makes it hard to breathe with the way it restricts his throat; then again it could also be how deep Sumin reaches inside now. He’s almost bottomed out completely with just the knot left to shove its way in. He needs it all; needs it deeper, harder. 
“Such a greedy pup,” Sumin sighs. “No more talking,” he adds with a resounding slap to Jinsik’s ass. It stings so good that his eyes are spilling over again, fresh tear tracks running down his ruddy face. Jinsik obeys and lets his verbal processing skills melt away to blissed-out moans and whimpers. He’s much more comfortable this way, incoming crick in his neck aside. “You just want to be broken and bred, don’t you?” Sumin’s filthy words are paired with the rough drag of his cock against Jinsik’s walls, pulling out halfway and slamming back in. 
(Yes!) he wants to say, (Yes, please, breed me, stuff me full, give me your puppies!) He's already been freed from the burden of speaking, though, so he's reduced to just the animalistic moans that Sumin fucks out of him at a brutal pace. Sumin likes that, but he doesn’t understand them, so Jinsik rocks backwards and meets his thrusts as hard as he can manage. His cock ruts harshly into the pillow no matter what direction he goes in and it makes him feel so trapped, so dirty, so used. Just like it should be. 
“Good boy,” Sumin growls. “Such an obedient pup for me, my perfect little slut. Gonna knot you, knock you up with so many puppies. Fill out this pretty figure of yours.” His hand digs a bruise into Jinsik’s waist and Jinsik positively wails. The thought of his slender body growing wide and rounding out around Sumin’s children—impossible as they would be—after this is absolutely dizzying; he wants it, needs it. “Want my knot, pup?” Jinsik does his best to nod from his place shoved against the couch. Sumin’s smile—even though it's blurred with tears—couldn’t possibly be more beautiful. He finally releases his grip on Jinsik’s head and thrusts his fingers into his face. A familiar snap brings Jinsik’s brain back into focus. “Kiss.” 
Jinsik presses his lips against Sumin’s fingers in the best approximation that he can manage in his ruined state. Sumin huffs out a laugh, gentle fingers wiping Jinsik’s drool off his lips.
“Sweet boy,” Sumin sighs. “Not that kind.” Jinsik blinks his bleary eyes up at him in confusion until he snaps again. “How do pups kiss?” Oh, right. Pups don’t kiss like people. He scrambles to correct his mistake, curling his tongue around Sumin’s fingers and lapping at them until they’re shining with spit. “That’s better.” Jinsik’s focus fizzles back into blissful nothing at Sumin's praise. This is all he needs to function, just Sumin’s guiding hand, Sumin’s voice in his ear, Sumin commanding his every movement, Sumin, Sumin, Sumi—
His muted thoughts shatter into white-hot pleasure when Sumin’s slick fingers wrap around his cock. He muffles a cry into the couch as Sumin jerks him off; fast and hard to make up for his thrusts starting to slow down. It’s a welcome change from the pillow under his hips, which has gone from scratchy to borderline chafing over the course of this rough mating. 
“Good boy,” Sumin groans over Jinsik’s sobbing moans. “Such a good pup for me.” His hand speeds up and Jinsik nearly collapses, held up only by Sumin’s grip on his waist. “Getting close?” Sumin really doesn’t need to ask. He’s ruined Jinsik enough times that he can tell just by how his cock twitches in his grasp. “You’re so easy,” he purrs. The hand around Jinsik’s waist releases him just for a moment, and with one last snap of his fingers;
“Come.” 
Jinsik obeys instantly with a howling moan, so hard he nearly whites out. Sumin’s knot pops into place right against his prostate and sends sparks down his spine with every twitch of his body; all the more stimulation that's rapidly building up to be almost too much. Sumin doesn't let him get away; his hips still grinding his knot into him and his hand milking him for all he’s worth until he’s sobbing and trembling. He’s helpless to do anything other than take what Sumin gives him, until he’s choking on his sobs, until Sumin’s hand and the pillow underneath him—bless Sumin’s foresight to cover it with his shirt—are drenched in white, until the waves of his orgasm start to ebb into painful aftershocks. Sumin releases his cock with one final tug and spanks him just to make him squeal, no doubt leaving a white streak behind. Marking him. The thought makes his spent cock stir again, though he’s far too boneless to do anything about it at the moment. He only vaguely registers Sumin’s hand disappearing to drag the pillow out from under him. There’s a rustle of fabric and the pillow—now stripped of the shirt that had been covering it and mostly clean of any evidence—thumps onto the couch next to Jinsik’s head and his shirt is tossed into an inside-out heap on the floor. 
“Fuck,” Sumin hisses under his breath. Jinsik makes some kind of quizzical bleating noise in response; he knows something hasn’t gone right but is still too fucked-out to really process it. “It’s nothing that bad, don’t worry,” Sumin reassures with a gentle hand on Jinsik’s back, “you’re just a messy pup. There's cum on the couch.” Fuck, indeed. Jinsik faintly wonders if Sumin will command him to lick it off. He’s done that before after fucking him against his desk, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he did it again. Jinsik wouldn’t mind. Good pups do what they’re told. Jinsik doesn't hear any snap or command though, just the faint tinkering of Sumin taking off his cock. His strength has returned enough for him to turn around and give Sumin a questioning look. “Pretty pup.” Sumin pauses his unstrapping and reaches out with his clean hand to wipe Jinsik’s tears away. “Normally I would tell you to clean up your mess, but this is a shared couch and I'd rather not get your tongue on it before it goes inside me. I’ll take care of it this time.” Jinsik lights up. 
“Woof!” His tongue hangs out from between his teeth in his anticipation, and he starts to squirm and paw at Sumin, impatient for him to free himself and give him his second treat. The movement tugs at Sumin’s knot and they both hiss. 
“So impatient,” Sumin sighs. “Hold on, pup, I can't really do this with one hand.” He sticks his fingers in front of Jinsik’s face again and snaps, the motion flicking some of Jinsik’s own cum onto his cheek. “Clean up.” 
Jinsik obeys, parting his lips so Sumin can shove his fingers inside. His mouth floods with drool as Sumin presses them against his tongue and smears his release all over it. It’s slightly bitter but he laps it all up anyway, sealing his lips around each of Sumin's thick fingers to suck it off, then moving on to licking his palm clean. He swallows it all under Sumin’s watchful eye and is rewarded with a smile.
“Good boy.” His hand retreats and his weight pulls away from Jinsik mere seconds after, finally freed from the harness that he now buckles inside-out around Jinsik’s hips and legs to keep his knot secured inside him. “Still want your other treat?” Jinsik can feel himself getting hard again before Sumin can even finish his sentence. He whimpers pathetically, both of them already knowing that Sumin can tell he needs it. A familiar snap chases away Jinsik’s desperate thoughts. “Sit.”
Moving is a challenge now that Jinsik has a knot in him sending zaps of pleasure up his spine, but Jinsik is a good pup, so he obeys and drops to his bruised knees where Sumin points him. When he looks back up at Sumin, he's in the middle of stripping his shirt off. Jinsik's eyes roam over what’s revealed; soft abs, scar-defined chest, toned arms. Sumin lays his shirt on top of the couch before sitting down on it and opening his legs right in Jinsik’s face. Of course the motion draws Jinsik's gaze right between them. Sumin’s inner thighs have grown damp with his own slick, red marks cut into his skin by the harness that's now strapped on Jinsik. He's flushed a deep red, made darker by his black not-quite-curls. He's trimmed them again. Jinsik whines; he understands why he would, but it’s so much more enjoyable to bury his face in them and breathe him in when they’re longer. Then again this gives him a better view of Sumin's throbbing tdick and how wet he’s gotten—it’s like he’s applied gloss around his pussy—so he supposes it's worth it. 
“Come here, pup.” Sumin's words are punctuated by two quick snaps. Jinsik shakes himself out of his daze and rushes to obey, crawling between Sumin's legs and resting his cheek on his thigh. His hands come up to rest higher up on Sumin’s legs, still curled into paws, still a safe distance from his hips. His treat is so close… 
Another snap. 
“Wait for it.” 
Of course Sumin wouldn't make this easy for him. He whines but obeys and keeps still; if he's good and waits without touching himself, he'll get his treat. Sumin grins down at him. One hand cards through Jinsik's hair, the other held up ready to snap. Jinsik can feel himself starting to tremble in anticipation. 
Snap. 
“Speak.”
“Woof!”
Wait, whimper, whine. Wet his lips. Watch Sumin’s grin grow wider. 
“Want your treat, pup?” Sumin asks. He wraps a leg around Jinsik’s shoulders to drag him in closer, until he can almost taste it. Jinsik nods, a fresh wave of desperate tears pricking his eyes. The final snap of Sumin's fingers echoes in Jinsik's ears. 
“Eat up.”
Jinsik dives in like he's starving. Sumin's walls are so soft, fluttering around his curling tongue and soaking his face down to the chin in slick. His musk is the strongest here, thick and heady and intoxicating. Jinsik laps it up, breathes it in, tastes it—tastes Sumin. His nose bumps against his tdick with every swipe of his tongue and Sumin’s grip on his hair tightens until it stings.
“Good boy, fuck, such a good boy,” Sumin moans. The praise goes straight to Jinsik's neglected cock as Sumin grinds against his tongue, guiding him with a hand in his hair and his thighs squeezing his head. Jinsik could drift off to heaven like this, smothered between Sumin’s legs and listening to his muffled noises of pleasure. This is his purpose. “M’getting close pup, you're doing so good.” Jinsik whimpers into Sumin’s pussy at the praise. He chases after it, licks deeper into him to pull more of those pretty moans from his mouth. 
He’s fully drunk on Sumin now, the way he tastes, the way he clenches around his tongue, the way his pubes scratch his face; another reason why he doesn’t like them trimmed. It’s all made up for by the way Sumin drags his face up to shove his tdick into his mouth. Jinsik seals his lips around it and sucks hard, just the way Sumin likes it. He can’t help his smile when Sumin outright squeals above him. The leg that isn’t in the middle of crushing Jinsik’s head digs its heel into his thigh as Sumin folds in on himself. 
“Fuck, pup, like that, just like that, good boy,” he sobs in a breathless, constant string of praise. Jinsik whines, about as strung out as Sumin sounds. Sumin’s tdick twitches in Jinsik’s mouth and it makes his cock ache. He's still being good, right? He can use Sumin to get off without being punished this time, right? He dips his head down to lap up more of Sumin’s slick instead. He’s learned to be a good pup, he won’t do anything unless he’s told to, so Sumin shoves his foot between Jinsik’s legs for him. “Go on and use me, pup. M’so close, I know you can come again for me.” He snaps his fingers with a shaky hand. “Make a mess out of me, pup.” 
Jinsik muffles a moan into Sumin’s cunt. Finally! He sucks and laps harder at his tdick until Sumin’s thighs start to tremble; a telltale sign that he’s about to come, so Jinsik keeps it up until the very last second just so he can catch the gush of Sumin’s slick directly in his mouth. Fuck, he tastes like heaven. Sumin’s shaky, strained moans spur him to keep going, coax more of his juices out with his lips and tongue so he can swallow it down, drink him in until his stomach starts to turn. He’s spoiled that way. Sumin lets him indulge, nudges his trembling leg against Jinsik’s cock until he’s moving his hips on his own. 
Humping Sumin’s leg is just as dirty as Jinsik expected it would be, especially with the knot still inside him sending shocks of pleasure through his body with every snap of his hips. The shame burns him up in the best way possible, and he takes that heat out on chasing both his and Sumin’s pleasure. 
“Fuck, you and your devil’s tongue,” Sumin gasps out, hips bucking harshly against Jinsik’s face every time he licks into him. “Gonna come, greedy pup?” His voice has grown strained from how Jinsik refuses to let up on his cock; he keeps chasing Sumin’s taste even when Sumin’s grip in his hair has started to sting, even when the leg around his shoulders threatens to crush his head, even when his own pleasure threatens to overwhelm him. His breath starts to grow short as his orgasm builds, supercharged and twice as intense as the first thanks to the stench of sex filling the room and Sumin’s raw cunt clenching around his tongue and the slick dripping down his face and chest; Sumin’s mark, Sumin’s claim. 
Jinsik really does white out this time. Maybe it’s because he came so hard it fucking hurt, maybe it’s because Sumin shoved him into his cunt so hard that he briefly suffocated him, maybe it’s some combination of both. All he remembers before he’s blinking awake in Sumin’s arms is both of them slumping down against the couch. 
They’re soaking in a warm bath now, Jinsik’s back pressed up against Sumin’s chest. One of Sumin’s hands carefully keeps his head above the water line while the other massages away the aching bruise on Jinsik's side. He must have cleaned up and gotten them here sometime while Jinsik was out. Jinsik’s back and jaw are deliciously sore now, and will no doubt be giving him absolute hell tomorrow. Sumin, sensing his stirring, pulls him closer and presses a kiss to his shoulder 
“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,” he teases. His voice is ever so slightly hoarse next to Jinsik’s ear; Jinsik vaguely recalls hearing it start to break on his moans from his overstimulation. “Are you alright, jagiya? Did I push you too far?” Jinsik shakes his head.
“No, I liked it.” Jinsik attempts to twist around to look at Sumin properly only to be stopped by an unpleasant, tugging ache. “Ow. We’ve been rougher before, it’s okay.” He intercepts Sumin’s concerned, hovering hand by taking it into his own. “How are you feeling? I’m sorry I made you do this all by yourself.” He kisses Sumin’s knuckles, unsure if his tone alone will convey his guilt. Sumin hums in protest and kisses his neck.
“I’m fine, it’s not like you could have controlled that.” He leans his head against Jinsik’s and wraps his arm around his waist. His touch lingers on Jinsik’s belly for just a moment; like something had taken, Jinsik’s imagination supplies. Like they have something precious underneath. “Having you here like this makes up for it.” Jinsik’s heart melts. It drips down and soaks into his skin, dissolves into the water and carries him off on the ripples to a heaven where only he and Sumin exist.
“I love you,” he murmurs into the silence between them. Sumin’s lips curl into a smile against his skin.
“I love you too.” 
Later on, they’ll sit up and clean each other off properly. They’ll run loving fingers through each other’s hair, work out the knots in each other’s bodies with the utmost care, tend to each other’s bruises as if any touch other than the most gentle will break them. After that they’ll help each other get dressed, sneak past the living room hoping that the open window will air out the smell of their coupling before the others get home, and curl up in Sumin’s bed together to cuddle and kiss the hours away. Jinsik will cry, and when Sumin asks him why, he’ll shake his head and tell him that he’s just so lucky to have someone who loves him so much, who’s so good to him. He’ll apologize for being silly and Sumin will reassure him, kiss his tears away until they drift off to sleep.
That’s all for the future, though. In the present, they only need the heat of the bath and each other’s embrace.
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