#to characters like these two... unlike the rest of the cast they really do share the responsibility of other people; that is their focus

[datastate]

I've always been really intrigued by the contrast between his social mask and the obvious signs of... what should I call it, dishevelment? The more you find out of his character or take a close look. One thing being that his haircut is a bit uneven and seems roughly pushed away from his face in his sprite, both in flashbacks and in the main game. I find the same contrast interesting in Mishima too, especially since in-universe he seems to have a harder time being perceived as put-together or reliable until one gets to know him despite, in my perception, trying very hard to keep up a "responsible" image to people in the same way. <- rambling because it remembered that it likes YTTD

[ @prizefigures ]

yes!!! it's so interesting to me - you see them both try very hard to keep up an (effortless) act that would poise them as, well, reliable people! as you said. despite them both still being very supportive and compassionate people beneath the appearances they put on, neither of them really seem to recognize that as worthwhile (or at least, not as typically palatable, which especially applies in kazumi's case despite his best efforts :[ poor fellow...)

i actually spoke the other day on how these two's speech patterns in particular were almost... the inverse? of one another as well, which plays into what you mentioned here too. all sorts of things help them form their social masks...

kai does seem to speak very straightforwardly in his mind - with some silly similes to spice it up ("kai, your mood is as unusual as the autumn sky"). but aloud, even though he's concise, he will usually softens his words with phrases like 'may, might, perhaps' or preface with questions to reaffirm what he's been told before he actually approaches an answer/response. he's rarely brazen unless he believes there's danger (the only times you'd even see him raise his voice in-game is when he's trying to get sara's attention, at the threat of death) - he tries to keep himself composed for the most part!

but like you said, as you learn about kai or get closer to him (ytts is really good for this), you do start to see the cracks begin to show. he's still very much learning how to... be a person, not just an extension of asunaro. it's what contributes to that subtle disarray, because you see the him wear his asunaro uniform (which he couldn't discard, because it still feels to be an intrinsic part of him despite years spent with the chidouins), contrasted with the apron (which he wouldn't discard, for it is cherished). and while he's clearly grown to accept and even enjoy having long hair now, he hasn't yet learned how to take care of it.

it really is interesting seeing these small signs of him still piecing together what his life, who 'kai', could be! and when people like kazumi, reko, nao dig a bit deeper because they want to know kai, they see more of those uncertainties that he learned to mask. it's really touching seeing the moment where kazumi begins to unveil him in a very kind way and kai ends up asking him to stop, because it's such a large step in trust that kai wasn't prepared for...

that scene always hits me :'] yours are hands filled with affection toward another... ahhh.

& then you see what kai does for kazumi in return too... because, despite the occasional 'you really are a bit [intense] aren't you' -- it isn't necessarily a bad thing! just an energy that kai wouldn't usually match, but is nonetheless unique to kazumi himself. and for that, kai insists to him that perfection isn't what he should be seeking out, but rather he should concentrate his efforts foremost on his skills and passions; hone in on what only he can and present that to the world irregardless of people's more superficial reactions toward his appearance or how he presents it. which is really what kazumi needed to hear, considering he started out the event with:

I wish I were a truly fine teacher, the kind who could answer any question I'm asked… Right now… it feels like I'm just barely managing to teach art and how to study…

which, getting back to how they phrase things... for kazumi, you can see the shift of how he phrases things when spoken aloud, highly influenced due to his career as a teacher. people will always be looking to him for answers, and he tries his best to provide them with confidence so they will 1) take his words to heart, but also 2) consider him reliable. because he wants to be able to support other people, and he's clearly very compassionate. even his questions are typically directed to hear out the other person's perspective. if he doesn't know something, he will of course need to ask, but typically he still prefers framing himself as someone who is knowledgeable. where even in that, he implicitly emphasizes the importance of listening to others to make sense of the world.

while he doesn't exactly try to completely conceal his past or his mistakes, because he understands he still needs to utilize them to connect with students to reassure them that he understands (like with nao), he is still disappointed if it seems that this is... all that someone sees within him. you see this especially with sara commenting that he's a good liar, along with how frantic he gets over the cigar/cigarette issue, that he feels he has a duty to uphold being a responsible teacher. but it's especially interesting seeing that even with people like kai and keiji prodding at him for this, he still typically denies himself that indulgence before other adults.

that reluctance is actually partially what has brought me to believe that he's a recovering addict. so alongside the teacher persona, which he easily grasps onto to excuse this, he could even be using that to kind of. conceal himself behind too. with keiji, and implied with nao, you see him mention how time is the only thing which helped him heal from the mistakes of his past -- and it could very well be that the solution he found at the end of that, to become a teacher, is the thing that truly pulled him out of that. perhaps privately, he still seems to associate himself as irresponsible when he doesn't have the weight of being a mentor. which is what leads him toward boasting such confidence, using white lies (i do feel like, bc of this, it was particularly significant for him to admit how much he still didn't know to kai), and doubting himself...

i do wonder how difficult the start of the school years always seems to be for him in this case. even if he knows it simply takes a while for the students to understand who he tries to be, it must be so stressful/demoralizing to bear that at the start of every year. but he does get back into the rhythm of things! he's very good with people... probably one of the most socially-adept people, up there with joe's skills.

it's funny that, even after going on about all this. i wouldn't consider either of them to be necessarily... insecure people. more than anything, i'd say that they're just. uncertain, and are scared to admit that. for kai, being uncertain is to proclaim that he isn't fully living, isn't cherishing that gift granted to him. for kazumi, it means admitting that for all he says, he doesn't have an answer for himself as to whether or not he can really accomplish what he's dedicated his life to after fumbling with it for much longer than the average person. they're both trying to understand where they go from here after practically... rebuilding themselves from the ground up. (kai with asunaro, of course; kazumi with the whole. ego death lol)

but when they look upon each other, they're still. very kind. and they offer what they believe the other wants or needs. there's a lot of trust between them, because they're trying to show that... it's safe to let those masks fall aside; that doing so won't mean losing the respect and love they'd want to harbor, things that feel as though they're at risk if they can't keep up appearances. but having that comfort with each other is really... special :']

[halfratsalready]

The Unhinged Jack x Wanderlust Conspiracy Board Explained

A few days ago I posted this silly conspiracy board I made for a slideshow night with my friends where I talked about how Ubisoft loves to deny Jack x Wanderlust and everyone seemed to like it so here’s an in-depth (and I mean in-depth) explanation of everything on it.

We start, of course, with Si’ha Nova and the Traveler, and Wanderlust wearing his dad’s cape at the beginning of Canned Heat because it’s super cute.

And you can’t talk about this ship without the moment from Majesty that perfectly mirrors the moment from Save Your Tears because genuinely why would they do this if they didn’t want people to ship these two? (Rainbow flag added for ✨flavor✨)

I also thought it was worth mentioning that the only time we ever actually hear any of these characters speak across all 14 lore playlist maps is literally Wanderlust calling out Jack’s name.

And now it’s time for the part that I like to call Ubisoft’s crusade against a monster of their own creation (because look at those last two points and tell me they didn’t do this to themselves. You can’t.)

Now in making this I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Ubisoft isn’t being as harsh on the ship as we’ve been thinking, because “they’re such good friends” and “best friends” with a thumbs up automatically reads as very sarcastic and joking to me, like all the memes about “historians will say they were close friends.”

Then there’s the infamous in’s and out’s New Years post, but what I hadn’t picked up on until I saw this screenshot from Twitter is that the inclusion of “normalize being evil” on the in’s list is rather suspicious and that, according to Just Dance, “this was posted by Night Swan’s army.” So I feel like that’s worth mentioning, because it casts a different light on all the other things on the lists. As in including Jack Rose in the in’s list since he’s the only one she didn’t corrupt yet and she wants to do that this year? And putting stanning Jacklust on the out’s because she’s evil and doesn’t want us to have nice things? Not too sure but hey, if someone better at analyzing things wants to look into that, I’d be down to read it.

(I also think it’s worth mentioning that “worrying about getting a Megastar” is included in the out’s list when the tweet just before that one is encouraging players to get Megastar on Zero to Hero, so some more contradictions there, but that might not mean anything, given that Night Swan’s whole thing is perfection and I feel like she would definitely be in favor of worrying over getting Megastar.)

Plus there’s the pretty popular belief that they’re just pointing out how stupid of a ship name Jacklust is, but I’m personally not at all sold on this being the reason, even if Jacklust is a stupid ship name. (I told my friends the ship name during this presentation and one of them said “Really? Wanderrose was right there.”)

Lastly, I threw Night Swan in there because of the theory that Ubisoft is denying Jack x Wanderlust because the Traveler is Jack’s father. Now, I have opinions about this theory and I hope it’s not true for obvious reasons, but I feel like if it is, it’s a serious oversight on Ubisoft’s part.

Firstly, if they’re half siblings why did they recreate the move from Save Your Tears in Majesty? Seems odd to have half siblings recreate a pretty iconic romantic duet moment.

There’s also the fact that we can clearly see that Wanderlust takes physical traits from each of his parents - his mother’s blue skin and his father’s dark hair. If the Traveler is Jack’s dad, why don’t they share any physical characteristics? At the very end of the beta for Sweet Dreams (spoiler?) we see Night Swan with green eyes, unlike the yellow eyes she has in the rest of the dances we see her in. (While this could just be an older design choice, I personally interpreted this as meaning that her eyes were green before she went evil and then they turned yellow.) In all of his character artwork, Jack’s eyes are green, which I take as meaning that this is a trait he got from his mother. So I personally feel like it only makes sense for his father to have red hair (and we’ve got plenty of options to pick from with that criteria).

But hey, that’s just a theory… I don’t need to finish that part, you’re already thinking it. Thanks for reading my insane ramblings!

[shimmershy]

Thunderstorms (Undertale Fanfic)

The fanfic I kept talking about is finally finished! >:) I haven't written a full story in ages, so it's not the best thing in the world, and I feel like the pacing leaves a lot to be desired, but I enjoyed writing it. Also, I came up with the idea in like... 2020, so I'm mostly just glad I finished it at all lol.

Summary:

The rain outside your window is loud, but your thoughts are louder. Now that everyone's settled onto the surface, even you, the past is behind you for good, but your bittersweet memories are endlessly trying to crawl their way out of the recesses of your mind to take hold of you again. You don't think you would be able to handle this on your own. Luckily, you don't have to. (Written from Chara's POV, second person.)

Characters: Chara and Frisk

Word count: 4,465 words

(Ao3 link in reblog!)

You awake to a buzzing in your head, a stabbing in your eye, and a flash of light from outside. Thunder booms, rattling you to your bones. Your heart beats violently in your chest as you sit up and tilt your head up to the glowing stars on your ceiling to catch your breath.

The rest of your room is dark and silent, save for the hammering of rain outside and the steady, quiet breathing from across the room, Frisk’s. Another flash fills your vision, momentarily illuminating the room before casting it into shadow again, and another crash of thunder follows – barely two seconds after, you note. As your pulse returns to normal, you notice the prickly yet comfortable chill in the air. As the panic ebbs from your body, you find yourself alone in the dark.

Reflexively, you bring your hand up to your left eye, only to wince in pain as your fingertips brush the petals clustered there. Right, right. You’d forgotten. You groan and wrap your arms – also speckled with little clusters of golden petals – around yourself. Another nightmare, you conclude. By some stroke of luck, none of the details stuck with you, but you can still feel the darkness and the fear in the corners of your consciousness, lingering with all the allure of a memory just out of your reach. Perhaps if you weren’t so used to this routine already you could find it within yourself to be frustrated, but right now you just feel tired. You know you won’t be getting back to sleep tonight, though. You never do after a nightmare.

Part of you wants to go to Mom – she could offer you a hug and some comforting words, which you could really use right now – and another part of you wants to wake up Frisk – they’d understand – but the part of you that wins out is the one that doesn’t want to be a burden. So you stay curled up on your bed and listen to the rain instead.

The drops on the window are so thick and so numerous that they all just coalesce and run down the glass in a single, constant stream. You keep trying to single out a couple to watch them race, but none of them last long before melding with the rest of the raindrops. The water distorts your view of the backyard; it’s a sorry sight, all mud and leaves.

The weather has been like this nonstop lately. It feels like the dark clouds are here to stay, permanently, like this is your new reality and you have no choice but to get used to it. You don’t mind it, really. You’ve always liked the rain. Besides, having a body of your own again means you’re sensitive to things like the sun and the heat, and you absolutely hate it, to say the least. The sun can stay hidden for as long as it desires. But you can tell it bothers Frisk a lot. You can always tell when something is bothering Frisk; after sharing a soul with them for so long, there’s very little they can hide from you. Staying cooped up at home isn’t their speed at all – they’d rather be out exploring or playing with their friends – but there isn’t much that can be done with all this rain. Unlike you, they thrive in warm and happy places, and this bleak weather has been weighing them down like a sack of boulders.

That’s the thing about Frisk. Everything about them exudes warmth, really. Their selflessness, their optimism, their smile… They really are the “sunshine child”, aren’t they? They’re the kid who could show mercy to a kingdom full of monsters trying to steal their soul. They’re the kid who could stay determined through it all, so much so that not even death could stop them. You feel a smile tug at the corners of your mouth, tinged with bitterness. They’re the kid who broke the barrier, and they’re the kid who saved monsterkind. They were able to do what you failed to do, and then they found a way to bring you back, too, just to tie everything up with a pretty, perfect little bow. Because “everyone deserves a second chance”, as they say.

It makes you want to laugh.

…

You pull the blanket tighter around yourself instead.

At first it bothered you, the way they’re so much better than you, that they succeed in absolutely every area you fail. It was certainly…painful, to watch them clean up all your mistakes so easily, to see how perfect they were, in everything they did. But eventually you realized that they definitely weren’t perfect, actually. They were just a lot better at acting as if they were. In some ways, the two of you are like two sides of the same coin, and with time, you’ve grown to love that. Haven’t you? They even out your rough edges. They keep you grounded and stop you from doing stupid things. And in return, you’re their voice of reason, a loyal friend who will listen and won’t hold back an honest opinion. Not to mention a practically limitless source of information who will gladly (and proudly) help them with their homework.

The fact that they tolerate your near-constant presence at all confuses you, but…you’re glad they do. What would you do without them? Honestly?You glance over at them, snuggled up in the covers on their bed across the room. You don’t even want to think about what you’d do. You surely couldn’t handle living again, or the complications that come along with doing so, or just being here, without them. It was their idea to try to help you get a body of your own again, but of course you’d agreed, because you had been sure you’d intruded on their life enough already. They’d followed through with it, too, all the way to the end, despite all the moments when it seemed impossible.

The pattering of the rain continues steadily in your ears as you reminisce. They had stayed right there by your side when you stepped into the sunlight on your own two feet for the first time in so long. They sat there at the top of the mountain with you for what felt like hours while you took everything in, felt the sun on your skin and the blades of grass between your fingers, and they waited until you felt ready to see everyone else again. They held your hand when you saw your parents, when Mom and Dad could finally see you standing right there in front of them, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to push all the words you wanted to say past the lump in your throat. They didn’t complain when your grip became so tight you worried you might break their fragile fingers. They know how hard all of this is for you, and they don’t mind spending time with you when you don’t want to be alone. They feel more important to you than the heart in your chest that shouldn’t even be able to beat anymore.

They understand you in a way no one else does, in a way you doubt anyone else ever could. You wish there was a way to tell them just how much they mean to you, but you know by the time all those feelings are condensed into words they become nearly meaningless anyway. It almost makes you wish you still shared a soul with them, so they could understand your feelings just as clearly as you could understand theirs, but something tells you they already understand, to some extent. You hope so.

You groan and pull your blanket over your head, as if you’re trying to quiet your thoughts with it. Even with the rain, it’s too quiet. And your thoughts are too loud, like a bunch of buzzing bumble bees that could sting at any moment. You don’t want to be awake right now. You don’t really want to be asleep, either. You need to leave your room.

Sneaking another glance at Frisk’s side of the room to make sure they’re still asleep, you slip out of your bed and pad to the door as quietly as you can. Of course your blanket is still wrapped around you. For comfort. The door doesn’t creak very much, luckily. You know how inconsistent it can be. You’re cautious as you shut it behind you.

The hallway seems to swallow you up tonight. You can still hear the rain, but it sounds more distant in this part of the house, and everything looks like a shadow in the darkness that your eye is slowly adjusting to. You ignore it and make your way downstairs to the kitchen. Maybe you could make yourself some hot chocolate, make the best of being awake against your will. You think there were some packets in the cabinet.

Gentle, dim light streams in through the kitchen window. As you make your way to the cupboard to grab a mug, you’re overwhelmed with a sense of peace and tranquility. You feel it in every part of you. There really is nothing to compare with the feeling of being alone in the middle of the night, with the sound of rain enveloping you. You’re glad that none of the bedrooms in this house are very close to the kitchen, because the microwave can be a little loud. You lean against the counter as the mug spins round and round inside of it, humming away.

You have a better view of the backyard down here. There isn’t much to be seen in the middle of the night with all this pouring rain, but your house backs onto a peaceful forest that you and Frisk have explored many times. There’s a small creek a little ways in – you’re sure it must be overflowing by now – and a huge, fallen tree with clusters of mushrooms growing from it in various places. It must have kept watch over the forest for well over one hundred years before meeting its inevitable fate, certainly the oldest tree in your backyard. It must have been around since before you climbed Mount Ebott even. The first time you and Frisk came across it, you picked up a few flowers laying nearby and set them on the rotting log, and the two of you held a little mock funeral for it. You felt somewhat bad about, ironically, outliving it, which must sound strange, but Frisk understands.

With all this rain, the flowers must be long gone by now.

The lightning and thunder are almost simultaneous now. You jump a little as the kitchen is flooded with light, and in that moment, the microwave starts beeping. Shoot. You rush to open the door and take the mug out and almost burn your fingers in the process. You must’ve gotten too lost in thought.

Setting the mug on the table, you pour in the hot chocolate powder and begin to stir. The spoon makes a little ting! each time it hits the side of the mug. You try to direct your thoughts in a less dangerous direction, more towards thinking of the future rather than reflecting on the past. What are you going to do tomorrow? (Or, well, later today. A quick glance at the microwave’s little digital clock tells you it is past midnight.) Maybe you could read a book, or work on your most recent knitting project. Even if the rain did let up eventually, it would be too wet and muddy to do much outdoors.

The hot chocolate is still very hot, but you brave a sip anyway, because of course you do. Bad idea. Now your mouth is on fire. You squint your eye in disappointment.

Hopefully Dad’s garden is still salvageable after all of this. You know how much effort he puts into maintaining it, and you enjoy helping out with it whenever you visit. You would hate to see all that hard work go to waste, and just when it was finally getting somewhere, too.

It always felt weird, when you thought about it for too long. You used to garden with Dad when you lived in the underground, too. You used to drink tea with him in the living room and have long talks, just like you do now. You used to sit and read with Mom, and knit sweaters in your room when you had nothing better to do. Sometimes it was as if nothing had changed, and you didn’t always know how to feel about that, because eventually, your mind would bring up everything that had changed. And that was a slippery slope of drudging up memories you would much rather leave buried.

You blow on your hot chocolate a bit and take another sip. Luckily, it doesn’t burn off what few taste buds you have left this time. It tastes like warmth and bittersweet memories and home. You feel the slightest tug on your heart and close your eye.

Mount Ebott isn’t visible from the kitchen window, but you picture it in your mind anyway, shrouded in dark clouds and pouring rain, looming in the distance against a dark sky. You don’t have to try very hard; it’s a familiar image. You were ten years old, and your world was hell. It was a mountain, and it promised an escape. You could think of no greater force between two pieces of the universe.

At first, you had been disappointed when you woke up after the fall. But then Asriel found you, and the world didn’t seem quite so dark anymore.

You never deserved him. You knew that then, and you know that now. You…don’t want to think about him. You can feel guilt creeping in like thorns in your skin. Like the golden flowers that rooted themselves in your reanimated body, sharp and painful when you pull on them. You don’t want to think about him…

You hate being around Flowey. You wish you understood him, but you don’t. Time had created a rift between the two of you that not even the abilities of reality-bending determination could fix. It was hard to see him as the same person sometimes. It was harder not to feel guilty when you did. Even Flowey said so himself: Asriel died in that throne room years ago, and he was never coming back.

Your face feels wet and it’s not because of the rain. You let out a deep breath and take another sip of your hot chocolate. You wish you could just get over this – it’s certainly been long enough – but the past still infects your mind like weeds. Ironic, is it not? Ha.

But, no. Despite it all, you could still hear his voice in your head. Soft, as he asks, “Chara, can you tell me about the surface?” You can see the stars in his eyes as you tell him of the ones in the sky. You can feel his head on your shoulder as he yawns, his hands holding onto yours as he tells you you’re not a bad person. You can hear his shuddering breaths as he sits beside your bed and you can feel his fear as if it were your own and you feel a bullet through your- his- chest and-

A boom of thunder that you can feel at your very core startles you from your thoughts and before you know it, your mug has tumbled from your hands and collided with the floor in a manner that is far from quiet. The ensuing silence, however, is deafening.

You don’t even react to it right away. You just stand there and stare at the mess of shattered porcelain and hot chocolate on the floor with a blank expression on your face. You think, This might as well be a metaphor for my life. And then you make a move to clean it up.

Your hands are so shaky as you pick up the shards and there’s a well of frenzied energy building up in your throat. You kind of want to scream. The rain is still hammering against the earth outside. You think about how much Asriel would have liked thunderstorms.

…

You don’t notice the presence of another person in the room until Frisk’s avocado socks suddenly appear in your line of sight. You startle – again, embarrassingly enough – and look up, and sure enough, Frisk is looking at you with an expression of concern on their face.

“You okay?” they whisper. Their curly hair is sticking up all over the place, and they look about as tired as you feel. Immediately, you feel extremely guilty.

You nod. “It just slipped out of my hand... I’m sorry for waking you up.”

They shake their head as they kneel down to help you pick up the remains of the mug. “It was kinda hard to sleep with all the thunder anyways. Why’re you up?”

“Mm…” You hesitate. “Nightmare.” You’d almost forgotten that was why you were awake right now in the first place.

“You wanna talk about it?” they ask, glancing at you as they drop the shards into the trash.

“No, I don’t remember it. It was just hard to go back to sleep afterward.”

“Oh. Okay.”

For a minute, they quietly watch you clean up the hot chocolate with a wad of paper towels, fidgeting with their hands. Your eye is carefully trained on the ground, but you can practically feel them trying to think of something else to say.

“You should go back to bed. I will be alright on my own,” you say, knowing they don’t want to leave you alone right now, because they can probably sense your obvious agitation, can’t they? You don’t want them losing sleep for your sake, though. They’ve done that enough already.

Instead of responding, they grab a chair from the kitchen table and turn it around so that it’s facing the window, sitting down next to you with their knees curled up to their chest and their head resting on their crossed arms. They look at you expectantly.

You sigh and roll your eye but scoot your own chair next to them anyway. “You’ll be tired tomorrow,” you warn them as you get comfortable on the chair and bring your legs into a cross-legged position. “Then we will both be tired and grumpy. Is that what you want?”

They shake their head sharply and scrunch up their face. “Whatever!” They tug on the blanket you still have draped around your shoulders, so you slip it off and pass them one of the corners so the two of you can share. They smile and immediately drop their head onto your shoulder, leaning into you. You hesitate for a moment, but then you lean your head on theirs, too.

“I am more upset than I should be about that hot chocolate.” The sound of the rain fills the empty space between your voices. It almost sounds like it has calmed down a bit, but it’s still pattering away.

“Sorry,” they say.

You laugh. “It’s not your fault.”

If there’s one thing you know, it’s that you don’t need words when it’s just the two of you together. Just being there is enough. The fact that they’re there with you at all immediately makes you feel a little less on edge. It makes the rain seem even more peaceful somehow, now that you get to share it with someone. A flash of lightning illuminates the room, and moments later, the low rumble of thunder follows. It’s nice.

The distant tick of the clock in the living room keeps the time, and you almost think Frisk has fallen asleep with how quiet they’re being, but then their voice breaks the silence. “You’re sure you’re okay, though. Like, really okay?” It catches you off guard.

You open your mouth to reply but find that the words get stuck. Oh. You are okay… You are. But the way they said it makes you aware of a pressure behind your eye, and you think you’re about to cry again. You’re able to mutter out a small “I-”, but nothing else comes out.

Frisk doesn’t say anything, either. You get the impression that they’re waiting for something, and for a moment that makes a frustration build inside you, because you can’t give them what they want, you already told them you don’t want to talk about it, no matter how hard you try you’re never going to get better at letting yourself feel things like they want you to- And now you’re even mad at yourself for getting frustrated with them. You don’t want to be like this. You don’t even…

“I don’t feel like I’m supposed to be here,” you finally say. Your voice sounds small.

Hm. You thought you had gotten over this, too.

“I know,” Frisk says. And of course they do. Of course they do. You can’t tell whether that’s comforting to know or not, but…it encourages you to continue.

“I’m…tired of feeling that way.”

Frisk reaches over to hold your hand.

“I have been for a long time. I thought… I was stupid enough to think killing myself was the answer-” You choke out a laugh, but it might have been a sob. You can’t even tell. “I get to help my family, and in return, I am granted the sweet release of death. Two birds with one stone, right?” Laughter bubbles in your throat and it’s a mess as it escapes you. It’s embarrassing, but you can’t stop yourself. You think Frisk is hugging you – you can feel their arms around your shoulders – but your eye is closed and all you can think about is the bitter taste of buttercups.

“A lot of good that did, huh? I literally could not have failed harder if I’d tried.”

The flowers growing in the socket of your left eye sting. Saying all of this out loud makes you feel sick, but for some reason, right now, you feel like you have to get it out of you.

“My brother is dead, and somehow, I am still here. And I still feel the same! Ha ha! If anything it’s only gotten worse! I should be dead, what, twice over? Thrice? And that’s not even counting all the times we- you died, with all the Resets. Do those even count? Does it even matter…?”

Your awareness slowly slips back into the present moment as you wrap your arms around Frisk. Their presence makes you feel steady, grounded, as it always does, and you subconsciously clutch fistfuls of their sweater in your hands.

“Sometimes all of this just feels like a sick joke. I don’t know. Like…maybe one day, I’ll wake up back… back then, and none of it will have even been…real. Or maybe I won’t wake up at all, ha…”

And maybe that would be for the best.

“I do not deserve any of this…”

Frisk says, “I love you, Chara”, and nothing more.

And somehow, it is enough. You take a breath; it kind of stings your raw throat. “I love you too, Frisk.”

You think about how lucky you are to have them, at the very least.

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. I think you’re s’posed to be here.”

You nod. It’s all you can manage right now. Because truly, you mean it when you say, what would you do without them? For a moment, you pause and try to soak everything in. You can’t tell whether you feel empty or…relieved. Both, probably. There’s a little bit of guilt there too as you catch a peek of morning sunlight reflected on the kitchen floor. The two of you must have been here for a while…

Finally you pull away from the hug and rub at your eye with the heel of your palm. “Jeez, I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah,” Frisk replies with laughter in their voice. “Whoops.”

You didn’t even realize, but outside, the rain has almost stopped, reduced to nothing more than a slight drizzle. You stretch a little as you stand up from your chair and walk over to the back door, which is on the other side of the room and glass so you can see right outside. It’s very cloudy, but there’s a little bit of light shining over the horizon.

“Oh. It’s kinda stopped raining,” Frisk says as they meet you by the door.

“You wanna go out there?”

“In my socks?” Their voice cracks with disbelief on the last word and you laugh.

“Just for a minute. I need some fresh air.”

Frisk sighs loud and dramatically as they sit on the ground to take their socks off. You open the door – cautiously, as Mom is still asleep and you know this one has a habit of squeaking – and are immediately greeted by a wave of cool air. The comforting smell of rain envelopes you. It’s called petrichor, if you remember correctly, and it’s actually the smell of the soil as it becomes moist, rather than the rain itself. Interesting.

“Ready!” Frisk hops up and bounces on their toes.

You hold the screen door open for them, and the two of you slip outside. Luckily, there’s a little wooden porch here so you don’t have to be standing in the mud, but even the porch is a little wet and slippery. It doesn't have a roof or a cover or anything, so the little sprinkles of rain pitter patter on the top of your head and tickle your cheeks and forehead as you tilt your face to the sky. Frisk is giggling to themself as they splash around in the puddles beside you.

You feel vulnerable. You feel free. You feel terrified… But you feel safe. You think to yourself, this is what it means to be alive. To feel raindrops on your skin, to splash in puddles with your sibling, to feel the relief that comes after crying and to wait for the sunrise. And you wish this was something you could understand all the time, something you could always keep in mind when your thoughts start drifting in dark directions again. It’s so easy to forget how beautiful the world can be sometimes, when you’re always stuck in the shadows. Sometimes you need someone to remind you of why you’re here.

Frisk reaches out to you and does a little grabby-hand motion, so you take their hand, and the two of you spin and dance around the porch, kicking up rainwater. For just a moment, everything that lead you to this moment feels worth it.

[canmom]

Animation Night 179: Unicorn Wars

Hey everyone! Real brief blurb tonight because I talked about Alberto Vázquez last week - tonight I'm going to be re-running Unicorn Wars since last week it was way too late for people to attend!

Unicorn Wars could be roughly described as Apocalypse Now with teddy bears. We encounter a world in which a militaristic country of teddies is locked in a revanchist forever-war against the unicorns who now occupy the Magic Forest. It is a conflict in part religious in nature: the bears are convinced that whoever drinks the blood of the last unicorn will enter into a transcendant state of being.

Our story concerns a fresh batch of recruits, sent on a mission that none of them know is sacrificial. Led by a sergeant who has no idea what he's in for and a reserved priest, they set out with grenades and bows and arrows to find out what became of a lost unit.

Our main characters are a pair of brothers, Azulín and Gordi, or Bluey and Tubby as the English sub renders it. Both of them are deeply screwed up by their parents separation and their mothers' death; Azulín in particular, who took more after their father, has a determination to prove himself at whatever cost, and a contemptuous, bullying relationship to his brother.

But we also encountere the rest of the doomed bears and there are some real characters. The bear culture is a fascinating blend of cute fluffy signifiers and militaristic ones, joined into one nihilistically eugenic competition for status. There's a real fascination in the animation with the physicality of the bears' bodies, the way they squish around, messy scenes of eating, and of course a great deal of gore. You see quite a bit of teddybear pp.

Naturally the mission goes south fast. A lurid trip on colourful bugs brings the first casualties - a fantastic blast of psychedelia - but the teddies are also completely unprepared for fighting the unicorns. Or their willingness to murder each other. In the end, Azulín and Gordi are the only survivors, surviving off the land - and then things really take a turn.

Of the unicorns, we learn much less. One unicorn, María, is something of a deuteragonist - desperately searching for her missing sibling, she finds an old church, where the apes of the forest worship a strange, morphing fleshy entity. We do not immediately see what becomes of this - but María ends up falling afoul of the two surviving bears. Azulín attacks Maria while Gordi can only watch; Azulín hits María multiple times but is ultimately pierced by a young unicorn and cast into the river, leaving María alone with Gordi. (In contrast, in the original short, the Gordi analogue kills the Azulín analogue after they kill a unicorn.)

Azulín, horribly injured, washes up back at the main teddybear base, where the military higherups attempt to make a figurehead of him - completely failing to anticipate his capacity to turn their own forces against them and stage a coup. Where the previous command was simply using the war as a way to stay in power, vengeful Azulín is a true zealot and mobilises the full teddybear army against the unicorns. Meanwhile, Gordi has managed to forge an unlikely friendship with the unicorn María who he has nursed back to health after Bluey's attack.

Vázquez is no stranger to blending cute imagery and extremely dark themes. In contrast to Psiconautas, which felt like a story of the forlorn hope of escape against the bleakness of the world, Unicorn Wars seems more bleak and nihilistic. You know none of this is going to end well; the ending pushes it into a direction of alchemical synthesis, and we'll talk about it when we get there in the film.

Unicorn Wars generally looks amazing, vividly coloured and elegantly blending 2D and 3D animation. And well, there's a reason for that: like I Lost My Body, which shared many of the same animators, this is an all-Blender production, using Grease Pencil for 2D animation, and a very inventive process for the unicorns where the 3D render is converted to a 2D grease pencil drawing which can be further edited by the anmiators. The result is that the unicorns get the sense of life that comes from the slightly imperfections 2D animation, and yet the precise perspective of 3D animation. It's a fantastic showcase of what Blender's 2D-in-3D can enable, and it honestly just makes me really happy to see from a tech-art perspective.

In short, Unicorn Wars is an intense, bleak and also very funny film, I loved it. If you have a reasonable threshold for gore, I hope you'll come to see it with me!

Also check out this cool pixel art of Azulín I found in the gif picker, by @none-dc. (He's such a little shit and this captures it so well.)

Animation Night 179 will be going live now at twitch.tv/canmom, going live now with the film to start in about half an hour (21:50 UK time) - hope to see you there!

[clk-deserves-better]

Woo Ragi Character Analysis

Honestly, Ragi isn't even close to my favourite member in the cast. I prefer CLK, Ollim or Garam. However, the dude's arc is interesting as hell (entire novel spoilers). This post turned into a Ragikyung ship analysis half way through and is very long so.. be prepared for some rambling.

So, what do we know about Woo Ragi? We know that he is a homophobe who doesn't fully think things through considering how he treats CLK. He looks down on others for being weaker/ less attractive than he is. He's outright cruel and people let him have his way.

Ragi, when CLK first enters his mind, puts him on pending causing damage to CLK's body. Kim Ollim is harsh to CLK and despises him yet doesn't land him in the hospital, most likely knowing that her hatred was not worth sacrificing their goal, unlike Ragi. In fact, no other Red Lotus member calls into contention CLK's purpose when visiting them which makes Ragi look a lot worse. Ragi is the odd one out here, lacking the smarts to realise the rarity of necromancers or the forethought to understand hurting the contractor might risk the future of his guild (especially since he would be able to feel Ollim, Dawon, and Garam's souls attached to CLK). How does he fit in with the rest of the members?

We answer this question when CLK gets stuck with him in that weird pocket dimension. He's not smart, he's not thoughtful but he is obedient to Seo Dawon. Just like readers complaining about CLK, this man is simply being puppeted by Seo Dawon within the guild.

He is uniquely the only member who spent time with Dawon at school. Seo Dawon never explained anything to him and that was just "how he was". He then describes how he and Ollim were the only survivors of a dungeon due to Dawon's advice confirming his already existing attitude.  This begs the question, if Ragi has never questioned Dawon due to him not being curious, what was his relationship with Dawon?

 He always seems completely overpowered by Dawon: like a declawed cat. He watched on as Dawon dated his crush, he watched on as Dawon's girlfriends harassed him/his colleagues and he watched on as Dawon prioritised CLK over him in all instances. He continues to trust Dawon even though Dawon is an extremely shitty friend to him. Considering Ragi being a horrible person to CLK and all the other members talking about how Ragi always got his way, Dawon is a very strange case. Dawon doesn't even attempt to 'fight back' with Ragi, he just shows his anger and Ragi usually backs down. We have no reasons as to why this relationship exists between them so it is most likely not necessary for understanding Ragi. The two sharing this relationship is the more important point.

The first time we see Ragi seem different from his original impression is the pocket dimension. Ragi carries CLK on his back for hours and simultaneously fights off monsters. CLK is at his weakest in these moments while sleeping on Ragi's back, he's a physical burden who is powerless in all ways. Ragi doesn't try and force him to walk mid-way through or allow CLK to fall off his back. He also physically embraces CLK against his contract when CLK stares down at a dead-looking Lackey although the action is unnecessary to CLK's survival. If CLK is in genuine distress, Ragi does stop being an asshole it seems.

All this doesn't mean he is a loving being while in the dimension. He leaves CLK on the floor crying and begging for him, he attempts to check for injuries on a recently blinded man with no warning causing CLK to feel violated and does still enjoy CLK being in pain throughout. As a little consolation, he does let CLK punch him three times but that doesn't really cover the damage. Ragi isn't suddenly a good person but we do learn that there is a threshold to his sadism.

In the hospital, while he enjoys teasing CLK by moving the fruit away from him and enjoys CLK's expression when consuming Kyungsik's concoction, he still cuts the fruit. By stacking all the fruit for CLK to eat, we see that Ragi is starting to soften up somewhat. The way Ragi breaks his sneering demeanor to tell CLK to continue eating shows that he prioritises CLK's health over his own habitual insulting/ uncaring persona.If Ragi were truly hateful of CLK, he would insult him and continue to eat the fruit in front of him.

For a large amount of time in the book, Ragi stays in this state. Ragi is no longer angry at CLK, simply insulting him without despising him. He no longer seethes in anger at Dawon and CLK. They become more and more of a thing but Ragi doesn't seem to hate the two, only asking them to be affectionate elsewhere. Considering Ragi's feelings towards other partners of Dawon, him accepting CLK is a step out of what he usually feels.

Ragi seems hostile in the beginning but they soon fall into quips and barbs at each other, CLK describes it as a "stand-up comedy routine". The other servants insult CLK and CLK does not fight it yet he feels comfortable doing so around Ragi. Ragi no longer gets what he wants here. He doesn't try to get what he wants either and just allows a rhythm for their interactions to form. There is something different about CLK than most people in Ragi's mind. While this may be mostly down to the system, I'd like to partially believe that Ragi does care for CLK more than he'd admit.

CLK and Ragi's relationship is intriguing. It's the first time we see that CLK isn't overwhelmed by one of his servants. He doesn't get scared of his breathing or crack like with Ollim who was similarly hostile. He teases Ragi as soon as he gets out of the hospital. CLK doesn't let Ragi's demands get to him and the servants seem genuinely delighted by how CLK manages to control Ragi.

You see that their relationship has grown from initial hatred when travelling in the van to Geum Miyoung's slush funds. He has some sort of affection here towards CLK, prodding at his symbol on CLK's ear. The symbol creates a "satisfied" feeling in the servant and so, Ragi pressing the symbol here comes off as affectionate. He doesn't even attempt to insult CLK harshly and says he has a "discerning eye" for liking his face. This is ironic coming from Ragi who taunted CLK for being a "homo" for many chapters. Ragi is changing, whether it be down to the system or his feelings, this isn't the Ragi Dawon wants around.

I believe Ragi becomes aware of his affections for CLK in chapter 304. CLK talks about all the servants looking worried for him: this must include Ragi. Ragi can no longer claim hatred or indifference toward CLK anymore. After CLK tells his servants he is starting, Ragi goes upstairs. Ragi has always been a loner but never to the point of actively leaving his guild's side which means something must have happened. Ragi is trying to hide something from the guild/CLK.

CLK hypothesises this is due to him not wanting a reaction with the blood which is understandable as he is the only servant who has no skinship with CLK and must feel the full effects of the system. This understanding allows CLK to accept his actions and allow what is "more comfortable" for Ragi. In this moment, Ragi's persona is breaking down and he is truly aware of his role as a servant. Ragi cannot insult his way out of the truth or get his way by hurting someone, he can only deny it by hiding what he feels. CLK's words emphasise CLK knows this with Ragi's "glance" back proving that Ragi was caught off guard by his words. CLK understands, Ragi denies it but knows all the same.

As a quick note, let's stick a pin in Kyungsik and CLK's conversation too. Ragi comes up as a person to be wary of due to his lack of affection towards CLK to the point Kyungsik gives him a love potion. The love potion is poignant as it symbolises the belief that CLK doesn't think Ragi cares for him. It is not used until later on so keep this in mind.

For an entire cast development, we watch as the servants give up on resurrection altogether. All of them. All at once. They are all angry at CLK for his self-sacrificial BS and refuse the goal that had previously kept CLK from thinking they prioritised him. It is no longer "we're using you for this goal", it has become clear that they want the best for him in that moment. Ragi is included like the rest of the servants here so I thought it should be mentioned.

After the gang escapes to KHS's mansion from Issac, Ragi teaches CLK the "deadly kiss" move which causes the servant to gain more power if kissed by CLK. Dawon is officially CLK's boyfriend at this point and has made all physical affection towards CLK feel like "sinning" in the words of Kyungsik. He tells CLK to only use the move on him which is.. stereotypically Dawon of him. Despite this, after Ragi gets summoned to fight Issac, he does kiss CLK. This is the first ever time we've seen Ragi make a move that goes directly against what Dawon has told him to do.

Considering how he never has questioned Dawon and has watched Dawon be an appalling human being in general, we know Ragi has transformed here. He is no longer a pawn under Dawon's thumb as he was more focused on giving CLK the potion (his health) than his old position as Dawon's puppet. Dawon seems to recognise Ragi's affection too "Didn't I tell you to maintain a distance from Choi Leekyung " is what Dawon taunts him with. He bites Ragi's lip for daring to go against his orders. Ragi doesn't care now. Ragi may not directly call out Dawon but when push comes to shove, he protects and cares for CLK more than his inclinations to his guildmaster.

The tragic attempt at fighting Jaemin results in CLK essentially resetting the world with only the guild members remembering what had occurred before the reset. Dawon has locked up a confused CLK who lacks all memories except a few about their relationship. Kyungsik and Ragi help CLK get out of the mansion. CLK believes the potion is what helps keep Ragi in line but that is simply untrue. Ragi is resistant to the love potion Kyungsik made and is only helping out of his own affection towards CLK.

Ragi is physically affectionate towards the CLK who no longer remembers yet still gets annoyed with Kyungsik’s insinuation of Ragi’s affection though. He tells Kyungsik that he’s not putting on a “gay show” for him. Ragi is beginning to accept his own affection for CLK but hasn’t yet fully accepted his own queerness. This is all without the contract. Ragi has no system or potion that has influenced his love for CLK here. His love is genuine (so is Kyungsik's but Kyungsik has much more reluctance) unlike Garam, Ollim, Eunji, and Chan Young who all obey their guild master's unethical treatment of CLK.

Ragi has shown he is truly the most reliable. It was revealed that he fought Dawon on this issue and is rightfully annoyed at Dawon pushing the guild out of issues involving CLK. Kyungsik is shocked by this due to Ragi never fighting with Dawon. He has gone against the man who can no longer truly give him what he needs. Dawon used to be trustworthy, even at his worst but Ragi no longer is inclined to believe Dawon still is.  The questioning of Dawon's decisions brings him his own independence and the potential to no longer look down on others. CLK has shown Ragi that he can care for people who are weaker than him.

CLK returns to the Jaemin fight via time travel, getting the happy ending this time. CLK kisses Ragi on the earlobe (probably a reward for being one of the only non-cowardly guild members). The book concludes with Ragi confessing his love for CLK on the wedding day.  CLK weds Dawon and the two go on a honeymoon. A pretty depressing arc end, right? CLK is happy though so Ragi can only hope to move on.

Overall, Ragi is a character who develops from a crass homophobe who couldn't think for himself to a guy who stood up for what he believes and is able to care for those weaker than him. He finally accepted himself as bisexual and despite all the tragedy of his love, he can move on to find a partner of his own.

[supernova41st]

My hazbin hotel review

(Chronically online girl complains about demon show, enjoy)

I’m gonna be Frank guys, I don’t have so many problems w this show. Yes I write fics abt it but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t have flaws, like SO many flaws. When I first finished watching it I was OBSESSED. I loved the characters the animation the music etc. that was until I rewatched it and realized how much I didn’t really like it. I was mostly bias because I remember loving the pilot back in 2019 (also I’m gonna go a bit hard on the show but Viziepop is a poopy person so I’m not rlly gonna be overwhelmed with sympathy)

Also I don’t plan on being easy on this show because it’s ‘indie’ cuz it’s not it’s on Amazon prime now. And secondly Viziepop herself is just eugh, not even including the stuff she did back then but she’s just not a good person by a longshot considering her tweets that she makes even today

The pacing:

Pretty much everyone has said this, the pacing is not good. I can understand that the network def didn’t give them much to work with 8 eps and 25 mins for each but even then there are something’s that didn’t felt like they could’ve been fixed

Something that I thought felt like the best example is sir pentious, we see him move into the hotel, get revealed for being a spy, exposed, then forgiven in the spam of like 5 minutes. I found this the best because I literally left to use the bathroom and I came back to them singing the ‘it starts with sorry’ song and I was like, “wait what.”

I feel like the pacing definitely could’ve been fixed by either removing or moving some elements to upcoming seasons. The meeting in heaven felt like we were in the 3rd season of the show and most of the stuff we learned such as the ‘winners’ not knowing anything about the exterminations, and Vaggie being an angel. And unlike Vaggie being an angel thing, the ‘winners’ not knowing anything about the extermination just gets revealed and the leave it at that? No one in the court protests it other than Emily, and I feel like someone else would too + I find it kinda weird that Lute first cares about the secret not being shared but when it does she’s just like ‘oops kill demon lol’.

A huge thing that I didn’t like was that we don’t see the people at the hotel bonding, we do see husk and angel dust bond but the rest characters just come back after the fight training thing and are just like ‘haha that’s such a funny thing that just happened to us off screen just now!’ I would’ve loved to see Nifty being fr for like, 2 seconds. Like pls

Characters:

This cast is filled to the BRIM. I’m sorry I love these characters but some of them feel just too useless? The vees are such a non threat considering the real threat we see in heaven such as Adam. We legit see vox get his ass handed to him in an epic rap battle of history and in the final song they still try to paint them as a threat? Maybe Valentino makes sense but so far Vox and Velvette look so weak. (Also why hasn’t Charlie or even Husk ask Lucifer to kill Valentino? 😭 I know that Charlie isn’t a fan of killing but like, in this case it’s out of self defense so like.. )

Ep 4 is nearly everyone’s favorite understandably because the show actually feels like it’s taking its time with its characters. We actually see two characters begin to bond finally not off screen. But like, I know people are gonna be mad at me for this, I hate Angel dust. I didn’t like him mostly because of his jokes just making me cringe but in ep 4 I began to like him, until the Poison song. I’m sorry, but who told them it was a good idea to make a pop song montage of a character getting s3xually abused? 😟 I won’t get into it because everything I have to say is in Dumbsville review on hazbin hotel where he actually spoke to survivors of s3xual abuse and gave their opinions on Angel dusts character.

Why is there a r4pe joke on sir pentious? Hey guys remember when s3xual abuse was treated like a terrible thing just a few episodes ago? Well now it’s funny, pls laugh.

This is the part where I get mad that Alex Brightmans character wasnt written well cuz it’s Alex Brightman.

Adam, is def something. I was interested to see how Adam would be interpreted since in the prologue he demanded power and it made me wonder how that would be played in the story. And then, they just made him a sex joke machine 😀 I have a theory that they didn’t know what to do with Adam so they just made him apart of the extermination plot, and he’s voiced by the same guy who does sir pentious so I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

It’s really strange how they make the villain so 2d considering the message of the show being that people can change’ and that ‘everyone deserves a second chance’. However they truly missed the mark here when it came to the main villain of the season because they kill him off as if he didn’t do the same thing to the sinners. It would’ve made sm more sense if they had the villain also be forgiven. Like once Adam is defeated, Charlie does a ‘it starts with sorry’ reprise, to show that people in heaven could also work on themselves.

This was my hazbin hotel review you can tell I had no idea what I was doing and if you think and wrong then shut up

[thenopequeen]

okay I am going to go on the rant, although this might not be 100% what I said eairiler IRL because there are some things that are only able to be communicated via hand gesters and stutters.

Also I am aware I sound very Red String on Cork Board. I am open to taking criticism. um but gentle if possible.

So to start, let's look at the actual role given to Racer (I will be using either Race or Racer as it's a bit easier to type out and are the names used to refer to him in the broadway musical which is what I'm most familiar with.). Oh and when coming to anything specific I will be referring to the recorded 2017 version because that's the one I've got a link to so I can watch it while reading fanfics or drawing (/srs. i do do this)

Race is listed as a background/ensemble character in any source I can find (although I could be missing some). however, his actions/overall role in the story are more comparable to Crutchie, who is listed as a supporting character.

This is heavy evidence for placing him as a supporting character, however what makes it interesting is that Racer almost seems to be favored over the other background characters.

About 50% of his dialogue could be given to another character and it literally would not impact the plot much, unlike the other supporting characters, who are unthinkable to replace in anyway shape or form.

If we're continuing comparing Race to Crutchie, which I will because they share the most similarities role-wise, those two are the ones with the most prominent solo lines. Racer has several from multiple songs (King of New York, Carrying the Banner, and Once and For All include at least one solo line that could technically be given to literally anybody else), and Crutchie has a few solo lines and a song to himself. Actually if you remove the tap section, King of New York could be potentially read as the closest thing we get to a 'side' character having a song. Literally all the other songs are group focused when it comes to singing, or are done by main/supporting/antagonistic characters. Racer carries King of New York, setting a wonderful tone with the conversation just before the song starts, as well as his very over the top energy that is present through out the entire song. Okay I also have a soft spot for the song because it was the first song I ever did a tap dance too last year (nowhere near as impressive as the show but it was cool)

Racer also is in at least TWO scenes where he doesn't technically need to be there. First off, the one where it's easier to explain: the scene just before Once and For All, where the gang is at the printing press. Technically, Race doesn't need to be down there in the first place. While yes, it's probably so he knows the way to direct the others into the room, he doesn't need to be there in the moment. This is also never explained in literally anyway. he's just there. Technicality, he could follow the trail of unlocked doors or somebody could bring him in. While this is technically grasping at straws I will stand by this. The second is a really minor thing that you'll only notice if (like me) you've watched this musical enough that you can quote a good part of it.

So in the scene where Jack is teaching Davey and Les to sell papes that ends with them getting chased to the theater, if you look closely you'll see a familiar face

I have rewatched this scene several times to make sure it's Race. it is. Why is he there. Literally the only other people in this scene are the passbyers who buy a paper, Synder, and the trio. Why is Racer here. He just kinda vibes. I still want an explanation because EVERYBODY ELSE leaves the stage quickly. WHY IS HE THERE???

Now to quickly break into the more IRL universe, in the cast call of this production, which my brother watches so so often (he wants to do musical theater), Racer;s actor is NOT listed with the other newsies. Even Spot, who is listed as support/featured in most sources, is just grouped into the rest of the ensemble. Instead, Racer is grouped in with the Delancey brothers. I still don't understand this.

This is your reminder that Race is listed as ensemble by literally all sources I could be bothered to find.

On top of this, in both the movie and the show, he's one of the most named 'background' newsies. While I've only seen the movie a grand total of once (didn't like the music in the slightest), Racer is a character you see A LOT. Sometimes he's not really doing much, but he's there.

In the musical this is in part because there is so much personality packed into him, but still. Elmer and Albert also have a lot of personality and yet I still find that Racer feels like he has more screentime.

On top of this, Racer is present in literally ever scene with all the newsies. And ALWAYS as Racer.

Anyways this is a slightly unhinged rant. Also if you haven't figured it out Racer is my favorite character.

Yeah idk how that happened.

Anyways agree with your sister that Racer is a supporting character. at least in everything but casting.

The cynical part of me says it's so the producers can get away with paying the actor less. The deranged crossover nerd in me says he's a Watcher

[circa-specturgia]

hiiii :]

ice breaker ask game questions!

How many wips do you have? How many are you actively working on?

How would you explain your active wips to someone who knew nothing about it?

How do you want readers to feel while reading your story? and after they finish reading it?

@vsnotresponding

Hi!!! Thanks for this ask! ✨

For others reading, this is @incandescent-creativity’s Writeblr Icebreaker Asks List!

How many wips do you have? How many are you actively working on?

Currently, I’m working on four! I tend to bounce around them, with more or less of my ideas focused on one at any given time. I’ve gotten an idea for a new one, which I’ll list as well, though I haven’t talked about or posted anything connected to it on here yet.

Circa Specturgia

Prometheus

Lost & Found

Untitled

Vibration

I’ll put the rest of these under a cut since it’s turned into a bit of a long post!

How would you explain your active wips to someone who knew nothing about it?

I’ll try and give some small summary for each one! All the scenes and posts I’ve done for each of these are in my pinned post, though I’ll be making a new Masterpost soon!

Circa Specturgia -High fantasy with several original races, an intricate and complex magic system not too unlike Bending from A:TLA, and a mystery taking the characters across the planet in search of answers hidden across time. Lots of magic duels, forgotten history, a world with scars and bruises left behind by something ancient, and a cast which faces something much larger than any of them alone.

Prometheus - A crew of astronauts on a pioneering mission to Alpha Centauri get lost beyond the stars, with no hope of returning home, and must survive on the fringes of the universe, where space and time unravel, all while grappling with their humanity and the isolation of space. Exploring odd and abandoned worlds, encountering alien flora and fauna, and lots of character vulnerability as they break down and realize how much they need one another.

Lost & Found - A young woman find that her imaginary friend was never quite so imaginary, as she is thrust into the world behind the veil; the world within which the Lost & Found operates. A mysterious humanitarian foundation acting for the good of the people and the reality which they enjoy, and against those who would seek to watch it crumble and sway.

Untitled - A post-post-apocalyptic story, as I like to call it. Not right after the end of the world, but a good time after, once ever-resilient nature has had the time to heal and return to the world. A quartet of friends embark on a roadtrip across the world in some highly-modified cars, collecting books from the ruins of the old world and piecing together what it was that happened.

Vibration - This one, I only had the idea for a few days ago, but, so so far my ideas on it are scattered, though two things which will be central to it will be a magic based in vibrations; knocks, taps, rhythm and patterns, and a world with days and nights entirely unlike our own.

How do vou want readers to feel while reading your story? and after they finish reading it?

While reading is difficult to really answer. Obviously I’d like them to feel whatever the characters are feeling, though that’ll come down to how well I can write it! On a broader scale, however, I’d say perhaps; inspired, and hopeful? I’d like to write stories which communicate the visuals I see in my head, and I’d like to share those with others, to share the awe of a beautiful place for example. I’d like to write stories which, however bleak and dark and hopeless they may become, leaving the characters betrayed, on the edges of space, trapped in their own minds or reminiscing on all that was taken from them, in the end, allow them to get up, and to take the steps to control their own fate. To feel hope for a better tomorrow, to believe in themselves and in others. It’s not to say that tragedy won’t happen, but that it’s not the end of everything, that a little bit of solace may be found, and nurtured.

I hope this answered your questions! May I send you a few as well?✨

[team-frightfur]

character ask game: dennis mcamerican

Thanks for the ask!

General opinion/How much I care about them:

They're kinda eh to me, honestly, but I still appreciate them. For one, their increasingly suspicious and freaked out faces during infiltration are gold. For another, he has a really fun duelling style and a lot of personality. He's like a second, more competent Sawatari.

A ship I love:

I'm not super into any of his ships (or many ships, honestly) but I can def see why many would work.

Dennis x Yuri capitalises on their shared past and seeming casualness. Is Dennis lying when he tries to reach out? Is it just politeness? Is he scared of Yuri deep down? What abt Yuri, does he find him annoying? Does he ignore him? How does that change? It's an interesting quandary.

Dennis x Yuya is more on the fluffy side. Those two can pull off some fine prime clownwork together. Plus they're both students of Yusho so they have a reason to connect. Then you start thinking abt their flaws and strengths. Eg. Dennis teaches Yuya how to clown better and Yuya teaches Dennis how not to child soldier better.

Dennis x Ruri is pretty obviously interesting because of the enemy -> tentative allies -> friends -> lovers possibilities. It kinda emphasises Dennis's regret and desire for redemption as well as Ruri's whatever you decide to HC her as having.

A non-romantic relationship that I love:

All the romances work just as well as friends lmao. To me, there's barely a difference between romance and friendship anyway. What do you mean romance isn't just friends but kissy. Can you tell I'm aro?

The NOTP:

I mean, anything that's like, incestuous or pedo I guess? I doubt thats really prevalent tho like this is a low hanging fruit. I generally don't dislike ships because there's always some progression they drive or depth they illuminate if you look.

My biggest headcanon about them:

Unlike Sora, Serena and Yuri, all of whom are orphans, they have family in Fusion. Ripperoni.

An idea for a fanfiction I would like to write/read about them: (if I have none in my WIPs I'll make one up on the spot!)

Yuya and Dennis clown too hard at a tag duel tournament and start dropping 11 negates per turn. Cut to a few weeks later where they're sending strongly worded letters to Reiji about how Monkeyboard TOTALLY isn't op! While the entire rest of the cast sighs in relief.

Something that makes me think of them: (a song, a character in another fandom, an animal, anything)

My friend calls him Sideshow Bob (bc of the hair). The link is inextricable now.

Thanks again for the ask!

[theboggskids]

Oh boy, my favorite subject!

So, the thing is about MU vs MAW when it comes to portraying the relationship between Randall and Johnny is that MU gives us all the implications but never the focus. They give us the tools to figure it out for ourselves and more context to be found outside of their actual interactions with each other. There is infinitely more said (and made up in our collective heads) by what MU shows Randy and Johnny doing with other characters as opposed to with each other.

Were Randall and Johnny on good terms in MU? Absolutely. The movie doesn’t imply any sort of shift/change in their relationship until Randy drops the ball at the games; that’s important. We don’t even know the two have interacted until we get the reveal that Randy has been recruited, and the implications of recruitment implies extensive offscreen interaction. By giving us all these moments of bonding and antagonizing with Johnny, the movie tells us how he operates; how he manipulated and steered Sulley away from the cross-rushing fraternities and Mike, by complimenting him and directing him by leveraging his power and influence over Sulley’s desires. This can all then be assumed to be what happened with Randy.

We have to remember, Sulley starts the movie with the desire to be a part of a celebrated and respected peer group, “the most elite fraternity on campus”. Something to make him feel better about himself and his capabilities, to truly measure up to his father’s legacy (a trait he and Johnny share). By instructing Sulley to cast Mike aside, Johnny reveals what Sulley, and what he expects others, should be willing to do and give up for the sake of their power, privilege, and luxuries. If Johnny can do it like it’s no big deal (with a condescending pat to Mike’s head, at that) why can’t Sulley?

It can be assumed that Johnny and Randy had this same sort of conversation off screen, and parts of that implication can be seen in the Scare Games Kickoff scene. The way that Randy is called away from Mike, prompting Randy’s nervous and conflicted reaction, and then the immediate follow up when Randy has Johnny’s attention, for Mike to not “blow this” for him, has all the information we need in it.

Johnny’s often described in the books as not having loyalty to anyone but himself and university tradition. Which can be taken as an allegiance to cultural and societal norms as well (he is the one who benefits the most from these circumstances, after all). So him spotting Sulley and complimenting him and instructing him to not only push Mike away but also insult him, all for Johnny’s approval, you get that same implication that Randy got this same treatment, this same instruction. This personal seduction, these kind words that all played into Randy’s existing desires to be “in with the cool kids” and assuage all his doubts of being socially accepted.

Randy starts MU as this meek, small, low confidence nerd with a desire to be more than he is, similarly to Mike. But unlike Mike, Randy has a chance to make it in the Scaring industry as a Scarer (just like Sulley). With hard work Randy can achieve his dreams, he just needs guidance. Guidance that Mike initially gives, but that’s not what Randy is really looking for. Randy is at university not only for his career goals but also to have fun, to be liked and celebrated.

If you keep up with Mike and Randy’s interactions throughout the movie, you will notice that Mike is focused solely on his academics, while Randy is the middle ground between academics and fun. Randy pleads with Mike to come to Rush Week with him, enjoy something more than schoolwork, and Mike denies this, prompting Randy’s eye roll. For the rest of the movie up until the kickoff, you get these moments between them of just studying, studying, studying. Even at the Homecoming game, Mike is studying while Randy appears nervous, and upset (and not studying). Noticing when Mike is hit by a cup (who has no reaction) and looking up at the RORs. You can interpret this as a clue into Randy considering what he really wants, as opposed to what he’s kind of been forced to deal with. Having a roommate who doesn’t spend time with you if there isn’t something to help further their own goals, and even if they do, they don’t give you their full attention.

So you have Randy, who wants more than what his roommate gives him, who wants to be a successful Scarer, and who has all the skill but not the personality to be something greater. When compared to Sulley, (who at this point, has shown himself to be an underperforming student who lacks in creativity and is simply coasting by on his father’s reputation) it becomes a no brainer that Randy would be the easiest replacement. Easy to manipulate, desperate for approval, and willingness to make a mockery of himself for a cheap laugh. Even if it pains him, even if it means shunning Mike.

Then you get to the Scare Games Scare Off, where we see Randy poised to go second-to-last, right before Johnny. A critical position, which can be seen as one of the team’s last chances to get back into the lead. If Johnny had his doubts or any sort of lack of confidence in Randy, this doesn’t demonstrate that. Johnny wanted to finish BIG, he wanted this to be a spectacle. When Randy is up to go on the field, you can see Johnny’s smirk and puffed chest from where we’re at. Whether it’s to taunt Sulley or show his faith in Randy, it shows how unbothered Johnny was at that point.

And then Randy loses, by no fault of his own. It’s his comeuppance after all, for what he’d given up to gain status at MU. Distancing himself from Mike, and pranking OK. He disappoints Johnny, he looks around for someone to blame, and he spots Sullivan, and makes his solemn vow. But here’s the thing about Randy’s loss compared to Sulley’s: Randy didn’t lose to a beach ball. Randy certainly didn’t lose to a beach ball repeatedly through the start of the first semester, too.

Sulley made his mistakes consistently enough that Johnny came to doubt Sulley’s abilities to deliver by the end, and that’s where Johnny made his ultimatum. He reveals that ROR isn’t just about legacy, it’s about intelligence, and understanding you’re more than just a face, you have to deliver on all other fronts as well. To be truly part of this elite group, you must be a well-rounded, and most of all, dependable individual. Sulley couldn’t even be bothered to study beyond the core basics of the profession he was looking to get into. But because Randy is also in that same class, we have to come to the conclusion that out of all other options, Randy was the runner up. He was the next best thing, and Johnny knew that, at least after finals. Even with his nervousness, even with his anxiety, he was number two. Randy performed consistently academically, and must’ve performed remarkably at Finals. This is already leagues better than the steady decline in opinion Sulley got. Johnny sees monsters for what they are at surface level, and Randy is written to be a scary monster with tons of obvious potential. Johnny’s opinion of Randy started high, and stayed high, until that fateful day.

Knowing that you’re what Johnny sees as the next best thing, getting taken under his wing and most likely told that to your face; you’re better than James P. Sullivan and Mike Wazowski. Would you be on good terms with the monster who told you that?

But then, the Scare Games happens, and it is implied that offscreen, Randy is kicked from ROR, as Johnny gives the offer to Sulley to come back. Randy makes a single mistake. One. But it’s big enough that Johnny made a decision like that. When we know frats/soros only have six members. So, after all of that, you’d think Randall would hold that same sort of resentment and contempt he has for Sulley for Johnny as well, right? Well, maybe. Randall doesn’t end up going to Fear Co. and that may be a decision that was influenced more by Waternoose drafting Randall first (Scare Cards confirms there’s a draft and MAW confirms there’s a selection process) and Johnny’s father maybe being diswayed by Johnny’s input or missing out on picking him due to Waternoose, than Randall’s own personal feelings on the matter. Maybe Monsters, Inc. had the better deal, and Randall went blue instead of red in response to that. Randall and Javier are both RORs who go to MI instead of Fear Co which raises a ton of questions about their relationship with Johnny post-MU.

But then again, MU was released in 2013, more than a decade ago when Johnny had a very different backstory than he does now. Within the context back then, Randy and Javier outperformed Johnny, and ended up at the top energy company while Johnny ended up at the second best, just by chance or by their own merit. It’s something that could mean nothing or everything.

However, if we’re talking about their relationship from MU going into MAW, then we’re talking about Fear Co CEO heir Johnny Worthington. We also have to acknowledge the point of Randall embellishing to Tylor about his connection to Johnny and what the point of that even would be. Randall says all of these things hyping both himself and Johnny up and Johnny doesn’t step in not once to course correct or downplay anything. So we just have to assume that that’s all fact, or at the very least something Johnny is okay with Tylor taking as certain fact, and okay with Randall believing.

So, knowing that Johnny’s kind words and contagious confidence follows him into every relationship, we then have to go back to the end of the Scare Games, when Randy was presumably kicked in favor of letting Sulley back in. The lack of respect that MAW retrospectively shows that Johnny has for Randy, by essentially telling us that even after being rejected by Sulley, he still saw if Randy would still want to be in ROR. After he essentially told him, after one mistake, he’d lost all faith in Randy. But it seems that MAW wants to tell us that after that, it was all smooth sailing. Without Mike and Sulley in the picture and the Scare Games over with, Randy could go back to being the high achieving student we know he was, going back to being the perfect replacement Johnny told him he was. Their relationship could go back to normal, with Randy earning Johnny’s praise for actually doing the hard work he knows he deserved respect for.

Maybe going to Monsters, Inc. wasn’t that big of a deal, it’s just business, after all…

Johnny, knowing that his relationship with Randall is completely fine and not completely shattered more than ten years later, saves his life from the swamp people. Going out of his way to retrieve someone he knows is a liability, knows is wanted for criminal acts and banished for good reason. Earning even more of Randall’s trust and admiration. Earning himself a favor. Johnny, just thinking of himself, as usual. Johnny, who barely respects Chet or anyone else, and earned himself life in prison away from his family because of what he dragged his only friend into. Yeah, that’s probably his bestie.

TL;DR: they’re definitely on good terms in MU and MAW. The Scare Games is just a temporary glimpse into what Johnny’s disapproval looks like, but we know it’s long since been left in the past by the time of MAW by Randall. It’s entirely in character for Johnny to use his approval as a tool to manipulate others, and we know that both Randall and Johnny’s definition of “friend” is incredibly corrupted. If Johnny didn’t like Randall, we’d know. If Randall didn’t like Johnny, Johnny would be dead.

Me being a huge nerd in the comment section

It been a while since I rant shut up

[jamaisjoons]

erised ⤑ pjm | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 the last thing jimin had anticipated when he’d followed you into the room of requirement was to find you, the demure little head-girl, in front of the mirror of erised. moaning his name. 〞hogwarts au. pwp au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: slytherin head-boy!jimin x hufflepuff head-girl!reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: mild angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ smut

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 29k 🥴

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: hard dom!jimin, big cock!jimin, possessive!jimin, sub!reader, virgin!reader, female masturbation, mirror sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, teasing, minor thigh spanking, fingering, degradation, humiliation, dirty talk, corruption kink, biting, orgasm denial, orgasm control, begging, pussy slapping, marking, object play? he teases her with a vibrating wand, praise, object insertion, clit spanking, crying, begging, overstimulation, clit torture, forced orgasms, multiple orgasms, squirting, manhandling, spanking, minor anal play/teasing, power play/dnyamics, virgin sex, wet & mess sex, unprotected sex, once again jimin has a ᵖʰᵃᵗ cock, kneeling doggy style (kind of oath sex position), mild pain kink, rough sex, hair pulling, creampie, brief cum play

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: sol writing a jimin au? truly, it must be a miracle,,,,, this really was supposed to only be a 5k commission,,, but i thot if i need to suffer and write for jimin,,,, perhaps i should suffer and write him an entire au with plot,, just like he deserves 😌

⏤ commissioned by @opaljm​​ in exchange for a blm donation // beta read the these lovely people: @yeoldontknow​, @luffles424​, @peekaboongi​, @sunshinekims​, @inthecrescentmoonight​, @tricethecharm​, @jjungkooksthighs​, @dontaskshhhhh​ and @nervouskiwi​!!

⏤ disclaimer: in order to ensure all characters are 18+, i’ve tweaked the hogwarts curriculum to include ‘apprenticeships’ and ‘masterships’, essentially wizarding equivalent of graduates/post-grad, and as a result, yn is 21 and jimin is 22!! // additional disclaimer: i know absolutely fuck all about tarot cards and readings and therefore thank you to the lovely @yeoldontknow​ for picking which cards to use as well as giving me the explanations/details of the reading!

⇥ this ones for all my kinky virgins out there, hope y’all stay freaks 😤

Hidden in the private dorms of the Potions Apprentice Quarters, you sit on the floor in the common room. Large, arched windows litter one side of the room, charmed - just like the Great Hall’s ceiling - to reflect the weather outside of the castle. Though, unlike the Great Hall, the charm could be turned off at will - allowing a magnificent, if not eerie, view of the underwaters of the Black Lake and all of its creatures. Currently, the charm is off, and the lake’s murky waters cast a dark hue to the room, bathing everything with a dark-teal tinge. Dark, crushed-velvet curtains drape down from the ceiling, the velour fabric only adding to the ominous scene of the Black Lake.

Despite the dismally grim sight of the lake, the rest of the common room is pleasant, and homely - if a little cold. With the space shared by all Potion’s Apprentices, from years eight to ten, regardless of the house, the interior is decorated in shades of black and grey rather than Hogwarts House colours. Dark, almost black, wenge wood furniture litters the room: from the large beams that run across the ceiling - holding onto the chandeliers, to the towering bookcases that fringe one wall of the room - brimming with rare potion tomes; as well as the glass-lined cabinets that cluster one corner of the room - teeming with vials and flasks of all sorts of potioneering ingredients.

The carpet that lines the flooring, however, is a light shade of mottled grey - the material piled and shaggy, and oh so soft under bare feet. Lavish leather sofas and armchairs of smoke-grey sit in one corner of the room, right beside the ornate brick fireplace; and a large frame of white gold hangs above the mantelpiece, containing the portrait of Gunhilda de Gorsemoor: a gifted potioneer who had developed the cure for Dragon Pox in the sixteenth century. Potions tables occupy the far corner, right beside the ingredients cabinets; each surface littered with a series of flasks and beakers, as well as glass phials, a pestle and mortar, various ingredient prepping tools; and, of course, a cauldron.

A sudden chill runs through the air, causing a shudder to run down your spine. It’s the middle of November, and yet, somehow the air feels colder in the common room. Though, you have a feeling that’s more to do with the fact that the dormitory is located in a far corner of the Hogwarts Dungeons, as well as being surrounded by the cold waters of the Black Lake. You don’t know why, perhaps it was just an oversight, but the temperature of the dungeons had always been bitterly biting. As a result, you nestled further into the warmth of the furry blanket laid over your lap - a gracious comfort from the brisk chill in the air. You’ve been living in the Apprentice Quarters for almost three years now, and yet, you’re still not used to the frigid temperatures of your dorms. To be honest, you don’t think you ever will.

Of course, being a Hufflepuff, you’d spent seven years on the floor just above - the common room located in the basement of Hogwarts. Alas, contrary to the dungeons, the basement is warm, in particular the Hufflepuff Common Room, and so, these past three years, you’ve struggled with the cold. Part of you wishes you were still within the comfort of the dorms you’d spent the better part of your Hogwarts Career in. However, after graduating from seventh year, you’d immediately applied for an apprenticeship in Potions. Upon having succeeded in your application, it had meant you’d had to move into the Dungeons, and from the Hufflepuff Dorms to the Potions Apprentice Quarters - a living space you currently share with Park Jimin.

Speaking of Jimin, he sits beside you and, unlike you, the cold doesn’t seem to bother him one bit. In fact, on the contrary to your body huddled into the shaggy comforter, the Slytherin Head Boy is casually pouring over the table: his back bent as his dark eyes skim across the parchment paper. His cloak rests casually on the sofa’s armrest, his sleeves rolled to his elbows and hair dangling in front of his eyes. You don’t know how he does it; how he so easily braces himself against the cold. Though, it could be because he’s spent ten years in the dungeons now - having acclimated to the cold over the decade.

From the corner of your peripheral vision, you take in the Head Boy. Naturally, you and Jimin had grown up together throughout your time at Hogwarts. And so, you’ve seen him change from the pudgy little eleven-year-old boy he was, to the man he is now. At twenty-two, Park Jimin is every bit the Pureblood Aristocrat he was born and bred to be: with dark pine-green hair that falls like silk around his face and sharp, cunning eyes - nestled between soft lids - that could stare into your soul and discover your deepest, darkest secrets (without the use of Legilimency).

Eyes scanning over his form, you watch as his lips quirk in concentration, his own gaze skimming across the large potions textbook as he jots down his notes. Against your will, your stare is pulled toward his hands. One is splayed onto the textbook, his pointer finger marking his current space on the page. The other glides across the parchment in front of him, his Eagle Quill scrawling over the paper in balletic movements as he jots down his notes. The gracefulness of the motions immediately captures your attention. His hands always surprise you, no matter what they’re doing. They’re somewhat small, and on the thick side - and a lot of the time they look incredibly cute. However, sometimes - like now - you’re surprised by how… attractive they are.

His fingers loosely grip the quill, the flexion of his knuckles practically mesmerising you as they protrude through his smooth, creamy skin. The bony features of his digits, and knuckles, are only emphasised by the thick rhodium ring he wears on his middle finger: the palatial band studded with gems of dark lilac and ebony. You have no doubt that it’d cost a fortune. Though, it’s probably closer to priceless; and most likely an antique, Park family heirloom. The backs of his hands are vascularised, and with each movement, you note the way the prominent vein bulges. You don’t know what he’s writing, but whatever it is, you know it’s probably incredibly advanced. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise you if he were scribbling different ingredients and their uses down, so he could create his own concoctions.

When you’d first moved in with Jimin, three years ago at the start of your apprenticeship, you’d been surprised by how often he’d actually studied. Particularly because Jimin was naturally gifted in Potions, and on his way to being one of the most skillful Potioneers the Wizarding World had ever seen. Thus, it was no surprise when you’d found out he was the other chosen Potions Apprentice for your year. Soft sigh drawing from your lips, you turn your attention back to your task at hand. Or well, tasks.

Juxtaposingly to Jimin, you were by no means a Potions Genius. Of course, you loved the subject, it’s just that you had to work a little harder in order to keep your grades up. Hence, the sight that greets you. Three pewter cauldrons sit on the table in front of you; the corners of your lips quirked into a frown as you inspect them. One of the pots contains a deep burgundy liquid, the potion rippling blood-red under the lighting of the torch sconces; signifying its completion. As a result, it’s the only one that’s set to the side. The other two still bubble over the bunsen burner: the left shimmers a pale, pearlescent lilac, while the right is a strange, putrid puce colouring that has you worried.

With a glance down to the potion tome beside you, your frown deepens. At this stage in the potion’s brewing, it should be a soft orange shade, not fetid-green. A low hum of distress emanates from your throat while you skim down the recipe - wondering just where you’d gone wrong. No matter how much you scour the textbook, you simply can’t seem to find it, and slowly, you grow more desperate. Especially as the potion’s critical stage approaches. You need to add minced Puffer-Fish soon, but if you add it now, when something is clearly wrong, you don’t know what will happen. Though, you doknow it will result in a useless potion.

Without warning, “You didn’t powder the Bone fine enough,” comes a husky voice. The sound vibrates right beside your ear, a warm breath simultaneously fanning across the outer shell of your ear. Abruptly, you jump in your seat, almost knocking the brass scales holding your meticulously measured Puffer-Fish mince to the floor.

Almost as if he’d anticipated your movement, Jimin’s hand shoots out to steady the apparatus. Although, even as his arm moves, he stays unbelievably close to you, and the proximity of his pillowy mouth next to your ears has goosebumps pricking at your skin. Angling your head, you come face to face with him, your eyes going wide. Directly adjacent to yours, his lips are just a hair’s breadth from yours - so close, in fact, that they virtually graze against yours. Heat creeps up: from the base of your throat, all the way up to the tips of your ears; and not expecting him to be so near, you jolt away.

The motion causes Jimin to quirk a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at you, and his reaction only has the flush to your cheeks deepening. Ducking your head down, you tuck a stray hair behind your ear, and, “Oh… I didn’t realise,” you mutter under your breath.

The instant the words fall from your lips you blanch, internally kicking yourself. I didn’t realise. What a joke. You’d fucked up your entire potion and all you could say was I didn’t realise. By Morgana, you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. Here you are, a Potions Apprentice, and you hadn’t realised the bone wasn’t powdered fine enough. How had you even made it here? Especially since the potion you’d managed to botch was the Skele-Gro potion; one taught to second years. Meanwhile, your Blood-Replenishing potion, an expert recipe, is completely perfect and complete.

If Jimin cares about your response, he doesn’t say anything. Rather, he gestures towards your cauldron. “Why are you brewing three potions at once? Even brewing onerequires all your attention and concentration,” he states plainly, causing you to wince imperceptibly. He doesn’t mean to, but inadvertently, he’s rubbed salt into your wound.

“Madam Pomfrey’s running out of certain potions and I offered to help replenish them,” you reply, your voice coming out quieter than you’d intended to. Jimin simply hums.

“I guess that explains the potions you’re making. I was almost worried,” he says, his soft lips pulling tight as a lop-sided smirk crawls onto his mouth.

Not understanding, your eyebrows knit together. “Worried?” you frown. Jimin’s smirk only deepens, before he lounges back on the cream sofa. The movement draws attention to his strong body, his toned muscles bulging under his shirt, while his thighs strain against the tight material of his slacks.

“I mean, you’re brewing Blood-Replenishing, Skele-Gro and Wound-Cleaning potions out of the blue, any sensible person would be worried about their safety. I was starting to fear that you’d hex me, and then heal me before I could report you,” he jokes.

Swiftly, your jaw drops, and hastily shaking your head, “I would never-” you begin retorting, only for Jimin to hold up a hand and halt you.

“Yes, yes, you would never hurt me. Or anyone for that matter. I know, ____. It was just a joke,” Jimin cuts you off with a chuckle. “Besides, you’re too much of a Hufflepuff to think of anything so cunning,” he continues. His words have you blushing harder, your bottom lip protruding in a slight pout. After a brief pause, he nods to your cauldrons once again. “Anyway, that doesn’t explain why you’re brewing three at a time,” he says, his sentence phrased more like a question. With a sigh, you feel your shoulders deflate with weariness and lifting up a hand, you rub the bridge of your nose.

“She needs them as soon as possible. Quidditch games are going to start soon, and she’ll need all her potions restocked by then. If I don’t get them out of the way today, I won’t have any time to do them between Head Girl Duties and the Apprenticeship,” you answer

“Hmm… Still though… three potions at once is a lot. More than that, if they’re healing potions, you need to be even more careful. One wrong step and it could mean the difference between life and death,” he lectures. You know he means it well, and he doesn’t mean to upset you, but you can’t help the way your stomach sinks at his words.

He’s completely right - potion making, at its heart, is both a science and an artform. Of course, most magic requires careful consideration, however, potions even more so. Namely because, as he’d said, the slightest error could change the entire nature of the potion. That exact reason is why you’re here, as a Potion’s Apprentice. You see, your life’s dream is to qualify as a Healer, and in order to be a Healer, you now need to have some sort of post-N.E.W.T qualifications in either Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts or Herbology. Of course, it hadn’t always been like this. Before the Second Wizarding War, once a student had graduated from Hogwarts, they would be required to enter into a Healer’s program, or any job really, straight away.

However, once Voldemort had been defeated, the entire Wizarding World had needed to rebuild itself - having lost too much in the aftermath of the Final Battle. In a way, it had been somewhat of a - morbid - blessing; mainly because, it had meant that the stagnating magical community had grown and bolstered itself into the twenty-first century. One of the consequenting changes, had been the reintroduction of Apprenticeships and Masterships, meaning that students now had an option to gain an extra qualification or two that would better prepare them for the future jobs - kind of similar to the muggle equivalent of university. Though, of course, these apprenticeships continued through Hogwarts, rather than a separate magical institute.

Naturally, with your dream job being a healer, you’d taken up the Potion’s Apprenticeship. Mostly due to the fact that you want to work in the Cures and Remedies Department of St. Mungo’s: a department dedicated to brewing potions, as well as creating new ones for the ever-developing medical needs in the Wizarding Community. Which is also why Jimin’s lecture hits you harder. If you were already making such silly mistakes, you’ll sooner fail your dream than achieve it - and probably kill or harm a few people while you’re at it.

Realising that Jimin had stopped talking, a tense silence befalling the two of you while you wallow in self-pity, “I’m sorry,” you mutter under your breath. As soon as he hears the despondent tone to your voice, Jimin’s face softens.

“No need to apologise, you didn’t do it maliciously,” Jimin says. Then, nudging your knee with his foot, “Scoot over,” he says.

Eyebrows creasing, curiosity colours your face as you watch him close his book, before waving his wand and muttering a couple spells under his breath. Immediately, his parchment rolls up into a scroll, before flying through the air and into his bedroom; along with the rest of his things. Once he’s cleared his stuff, he scuttles off of the sofa, and onto the floor beside you. In your confusion, you hadn’t moved quick enough, and as a result, Jimin’s crossed knee falls onto your lap. With a blank stare, you glance down at his thick thigh, and feeling the weight of his limb onto yours, you quickly kick yourself into motion.

Shuffling to the side, you make space for Jimin, the Head Boy slotting into the space next to you and under your blanket - the cover draping over his own lap. In your new position, he’s now level with you, your pantyhose-clad knee brushing against his while your shoulders practically touch. He’s close enough that the scent of his expensive cologne is more prominent: notes of sandalwood and bergamot dancing in the air and through your senses. The woodsy-sweet aroma virtually entrances you, your head swimming with the beguiling fragrances and beckoning you to sink deep into them. For a moment, you take a deep, albeit subtle, breath - wanting to breathe it in even more. Nonetheless, Jimin’s voice is swiftly breaking you out of your trance.

“You need to add minced Puffer-Fish to this, right?” he asks as he peers at the Skele-Gro potion, the rancid-green liquid still bubbling under the high heat of your bunsen burner. Abruptly coming to your senses, you nod, trying to ignore the fuzzy warmth that settles in the pits of your stomach. “If you add it now, it’s most likely going to result in Skele-Gro,” Jimin mumbles, and hearing him, you immediately perk up. Perhaps all wasn’t lost yet. That is, until you hear him continue. “Except… it will probably result in the bones continuously growing without stopping - even once they’ve fixed themselves.”

“Oh. So I need to start over?” you ask as you pull your bottom teeth between your lips. Did you even have time for that? Or ingredients? If you go down to Slughorn’s Office in order to get a fresh supply, he’ll most likely question why and you’d rather notexplain that it’s because you’d been incompetent enough to mess up a second year level potion.

Jimin hums in thought. “No, I don’t think so. You’re also brewing Wound-Cleaning Potion, yes? That means you have Dittany Essence?” he asks, causing you to nod and pass him the dark-blue vial. “Adding three drops should counteract the effects and bring it back to what it’s supposed to be,” he continues, and you watch as he uncaps the glass bottle, before carefully pipetting exactly three drops of the solution into the cauldron. After placing the Dittany Essence back down, he stirs the potion anticlockwise five-times, and you observe in complete awe as the potion returns to a pale orange - the exact colour it's supposed to be.

“How did you…?” you breathe out, astonishment heavily lacing your voice. Beside you, Jimin simply shrugs.

“It’s a common mistake second years make when brewing Skele-Gro… not powdering the bone finely enough, I mean. Adding three drops of Dittany Essence and then stirring anticlockwise five times brings it back,” he replies casually. Despite his nonchalant tone, though, you find your body slackening with defeat.

“I can’t believe I made such a stupid mistake…” you mumble under your breath. The self-deprecating tone to your voice has Jimin clicking his tongue at you in a tut as he nudges your knee with his.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. You’re brewing three potions at once - and two of them are advanced potions. Both of which you’ve brewed perfectly so far. You probably didn’t notice that the powdered bone wasn’t fine enough because you didn’t expect to mess up a simple potion,” Jimin immediately says - in a bid to comfort you. It works, because swiftly, you feel your stomach flip: butterflies blooming in the pits of your abdomen at his praise.

Against your will, a smile creeps onto your face - the corners of your lips tugging, and, “Thank you,” you mutter under your breath. A tinkling laugh slips through Jimin’s lips, and he bumps his shoulder into yours.

“You’re a perfectionist and a hard worker, ____. Both of those traits make a good Potioneer, ____. Which you are. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be here. You need to stop beating yourself up over small things,” he continues. His face is twisted into a bright smile, his plump lips stretched thin and displaying his teeth, as the apples of his cheeks bunch under his eyes - causing his eyelids to slit into thin, crescent-moons. Your own lips tug into a sheepish smile, and you look at him gratefully.

“I know… it’s just such a silly mistake,” you respond.

Jimin snorts at your answer, and, “Everyone makes silly mistakes. Even a Potions Master or Mistress. It’s inevitable with the amount of potions we brew,” he scoffs. His words placate you even further, and you feel your earlier upset fade to nothingness - replaced by ease. Sensing the fact that you’ve perked up, Jimin grabs the rest of the prepared ingredients for the Skele-Gro potion. You look at him in surprise, Jimin simply smiling kindly in response.

“Why don’t you focus on the Wound-Cleaning potion? I’ll finish up the Skele-Gro,” he suggests. Swiftly, you shake your head.

“No, no. It’s okay! I’ll be more careful! You don’t need to help if you’re busy,” you quickly refuse - not wanting to be a burden - as you reach for the ingredients once again. Jimin simply scowls, and holding out his arms, he uses his strength to bar your hands from touching the tray.

“I’m not busy - I was just doing some light research on Phoenix Tears. Now be a goodgirl and let me help you,” he hisses. The instant the command falls from his lips, you feel your stomach twist, and your eyes widen slightly at the command. For a moment you still, not expecting them. There’s a playful lilt to his voice, and you know he doesn’t mean anything by it; yet, you still find your arms obediently dropping to your side.

Head ducking down, you turn your gaze to the surface of the table in front of you, in an attempt to hide your face from Jimin’s view. It would not do well for him to see the barest hint of a blush on your face. Especially since he hadn’t meant it in that way in the first place. Nodding your head, you acquiesce to him, and begin working on your potion once again; Jimin taking over for the second one.

The two of you work in near silence - the quiet broken up by the sounds of the bubbling potion, and the hissing of the fire. Intermittently, the blunt sound of chopping or the sound of the pestle grinding into the mortar echoes through the air: the two of you continuously prepping your ingredients as you brew your potion. With how close you are to each other, you practically invade each other’s space, and yet, as if by magic, neither of you get into each other’s way. While you concoct your respective draughts, every now and then, you find your attention wandering towards Jimin.

In the midst of brewing, Jimin is fascinatingly exquisite. That’s the only way you could describe it. Warm honey-kissed skin glows under the saffron lights of your dorms, the high arcs of his cheekbones glistening with every movement. The button of his nose is slightly scrunched, and similarly, his lips are pulled into a tight purse: his entire visage an epitome of concentration. The potion is easy, and an elixir he could very well brew in his sleep. Nevertheless, he focuses on each and every one of his actions, working meticulously and methodically as he concocts his potion.

Deft hands move expertly, alternating from preparing the different ingredients and adding them to the mixture, to carefully stirring the potion. Umber eyes scrupulously watch the simmering cauldron, his keenly trained gaze observing the elixir for even the slightest changes. You have no doubt that under his ever watchful eyes, the potion will be of the highest quality, even with how relatively easy it is to create. At some point, you finish your potion, and turning off of your bunsen burner, you turn your attention to Jimin. Unable to help yourself, you find yourself completely lost in how he effortlessly works; each movement, each gesture, completely second nature to him. It’s an artform. It has to be. At least, with the way he works it is.

You don’t know how long you watch him - but with each second that passes, you note something more about Jimin. You notice the way his eyes light up every time he successfully completes a stage, and the way the soft skin of his eyelids flutter, thick eyelashes kissing his cheeks, every time he blinks. You notice the slight sheen of perspiration that coats the back of his neck, most likely from the heat of the bunsen burner, rather than tenseness. Mesmerised by the movement, you follow a single drop of sweat - watching the way it trails down the thick curve of his neck and over the subtle bulge of his Adam’s apple, before percolating into the collar of his shirt.

Out of the blue, Jimin lets out a deep sigh, and with how intensely you observe him, you notice the way his shoulders ease - the movement so faint your eyes essentially strain to spot the movement. The motion is surprising, because the potion is easy, and yet, he still felt some level of tension. Though, that only leads you to appreciate him and his love for potions even more. Potion Making is easy for Jimin, and for the greatest part of it, it comes instinctually to him - but still, he takes the utmost care with each brew - no matter what the difficulty.

A strained groan resonates through the air, Jimin’s throat rumbling as he stretches out the kinks in his muscles. Thoughtlessly, he lifts his arms above his head, the muscles of his biceps pulling taut against the material of his shirt, and the motion causes the hem of his shirt to rise above the waistband of his black slacks. Against your will, your gaze finds itself drawn towards his waist, your eyes honing in on the sliver of his smooth skin of his hips that peeks through the gap. You don’t eye it for long, however, because as soon as it comes it's gone, Jimin’s hands drop down to his sides; the shirt’s hem consequently falling back into place.

“Are you all done?” his voice suddenly tears through the silence, and abruptly, your eyes snap back up to his - watching as he flicks off the flame under his cauldron.

“W-What?” you stutter, prompting Jimin to arch a strong eyebrow.

“Are you done with the Wound-Cleaning potion?” Jimin reiterates, purposely enunciating each of his words. Owlishly, you blink at him, your stare completely blank. At the same time, your brain slowly processes his words, your mind still slightly spellbound by his previous beguile, and eventually, you process his words.

Jerking slightly, “Yes!” you practically yelp, only to wince at the loudness of your own voice. Swiftly, you compose yourself, and clearing your throat, “Sorry… yes. I’m done,” you mumble. A look of concern flashes across Jimin’s face, and carefully he sweeps his gaze over you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and the clear worry etched into his voice has your heart fluttering.

“Y-Yes,” you squeak out, wanting nothing more than to bury yourself into the blanket over your laps. For a fleeting instant, Jimin watches you carefully, and momentarily, you fear he’s going to press you further. Nonetheless, a couple of seconds later, he’s shrugging you off.

Glancing at the grandfather clock nestled in one unassuming corner of your shared common room, “Oh wow. Has it really been that long? It’s almost dinner time,” he murmurs, an astonished inflexion lacing his voice. Following his gaze, your own eyebrows widen when you spot the ornate clock, the baroque hands reading six-thirty. “I’m going to go shower and then head down,” Jimin begins as he gets up from his space beside you. His movement causes the blanket to partially fall off of your lap, exposing your right leg to the air, and involuntarily, you shudder at the cold.

“Go on then, I’ll wait for you,” you readily respond as you pull the blanket back over your lap. Drawn up to his full height, Jimin looks down at you curiously.

“Are you sure? I may be a while,” he replies, causing you to shrug and wave him off.

Waving your wand, you mutter an ‘Accio’ and summon a book from the shelves that line one wall of the common room. “Take as long as you need. I’m not hungry right now anyway. We can go down together when you’re done,” comes your own response.

Spinning on the heels of his Dragonhide boots, “Alright then. Thanks, ____,” he calls out as he walks back towards the bathroom. Your only response in a noncommittal hum, your attention already drawn to the book.

It’s almost half an hour later, when you hear Jimin return from the shower. Automatically peering up from your book, you move to close it - now more than hungry and ready to go down to dinner. Nonetheless, the moment you spot Jimin, you find yourself freezing. The door to the bathroom is wide open, clouds of steam gently drifting through the threshold and dancing around his frame as he steps into the common room. However, it’s not the water vapour that has your attention. No. it’s Jimin.

The very Jimin who is dressed in nothing but a thick towel wrapped around his waist.

Park Jimin is by no means short. Of course, compared to some of the other wizards that inhabit the castle, he’s not considered tall either. Nonetheless, he stands imposingly - a raw, powerful swagger that rolls off of his demeanour with every movement. It’s no wonder he’s considered the Slytherin Prince, and as he practically saunters out of the bathroom, with just a towel hanging off of his otherwise naked frame, you can’t help but feel that domineering aura. Droplets of water bead his skin, forming little rivulets as they run down his body and towards the hem of his towel.

The sheen of water that glazes his flesh catches the torchlight that surrounds you, causing his skin to glisten as he’s encased in a halo of gold. His hair is slightly damp, the deep green shade blackening to onyx; the wet tips sticking to his face. Helpless under his charm, your eyes trail down his body: from the corded muscles of his shoulders, down the smooth expanse of his torso - stopping briefly to take in the dusky-mauve nipples that grace his pectorals - and along the faint outline of his abs. When you get to the hem of the towel, your eyes coast over the definition of his hips: your heated stare charting the prominent ‘v’ that carves itself into his pelvis.

Trailing your gaze further down, you level it at his covered crotch. The terry cloth material of his towel is bulky, and effectively hides the rest off his body from your gaze - the bottom edge grazing just past his knees. Still, as he walks, you spot the barest hint of his muscular thigh - the limb peeking through the slit of the towel as he walks towards his bedroom. With each movement, heat flashes across your skin, your spine tingling as you find your stare honed in on his pelvis.

Then, all of a sudden, he’s stopping.

“See something you like, Sweetheart?” Jimin drawls, his voice cutting the terse silence that enwraps the room. Abruptly, you break from your trance, your gaze snapping up to his face.

His arms are crossed across his chest: the sinewy muscles of his biceps bulging under the movement; and his hip is cocked to the side, his knee sticking out through the fabric of his towel as he gazes at you. Wry, but voluptuous, lips are twisted: the thick petals of his mouth pulled in a lop-sided smirk, his teeth poking between the seam - almost predatorily; and taupe-brown eyes twinkle with mischief: a playful light dancing in the onyx depths. From the knowing glint to them, you know he’s spotted you brazenly devouring him with your gaze.

Heat immediately crawls over your cheeks, and you audible swallow, your throat suddenly tight. “N-No,” you squeak out, your head ducking further under the cover of your book. Though, even as you do that, your eyes peek over the edge - an action Jimin easily catches.

Smirk widening into a wolfish grin, “Are you sure, Princess?” he purrs and, hearing the nickname, you can’t help the way your stomach knots in the pit of your abdomen.

“Y-Yes,” you stammer, your body curling further into the side of the sofa - in a bid to make yourself seem smaller. Jimin hums in response. The deep tremors reverberate through the air, echoing through the quiet common room and causing your breath to hitch.

Jimin’s tongue pokes out through the seam of his pouty mouth, and after swiping it across the plush bottom lip, he pulls the petal between his teeth. The act is incredibly enticing: the plush flesh slowly slipping from under his incisors before plumping out once more. Entranced by the movement, your eyes narrow onto his lips, and you suddenly feel your throat run dry. Spotting the way your attention focuses onto his mouth, Jimin lets out a low chuckle, and hearing the rich sound vibrate through the air, you inhale a sharp audible breath.

The sound resonates through the common room, heightened by the quiet - and swiftly, you feel the heat that stains your skin intensify. Body burning under your own embarrassment, you practically curl into the foetal position: your knees pulling towards your chest, a small squeak emanating through your mouth. Hearing the sound, Jimin simply chuckles again, and this time, taking pity on your form, he drops the subject and walks towards his bedroom.

“Cute,” he laughs you off as he shuts the door to his private room. The moment you hear that word, you can’t help the pout that forms onto your face, nor the way you blush ever harder.

Cute.

God you hated when he teased you like that. Partly because of the way a fuzzy warmth settles into your stomach, and partly because you know that’s all you’ll ever be to Park Jimin.

Cute.

Having lived with Jimin for three years, you think you know him pretty well. You know him well enough to know that he keeps Sugar Quills hidden around the dorm, practically addicted to the confectionery; and that he writes letters to his mother once a week, usually on Saturday, in his free time. You know that when he’s had a particularly hard week, he unwinds by reading his prized, first edition copy of ‘The Twelve Uses of Dragon’s Blood’ - a tome he’s had to have read thousands of times by now. You know that despite him being the heir to the Park name - an age old, aristocratic pureblood line that dates back centuries - he doesn’t care about status, or power, and rather judges people on their own merits and hardwork.

You also know that Park Jimin, as sweet as he is, is the biggest playboy the school has ever seen - actively flirting with any and all the other apprentices from the other subjects. It’s not like he could help it. In fact, you’re sure that it’s practically ingrained in his nature. Though, when he looks like that - a frightening middle between incredibly adorable and devastatingly sexy - you sort of understand it. Because if you looked like that, you’d take any and every opportunity to use it as best as you could. And Park Jimin definitely used his allure

A terrifying mix of cunning, ambitious, sweet and distressingly handsome, Park Jimin has probably broken more hearts than you can count; and is most likely the sole reason for every Apprentice’s wet dreams. Girls flocked to him, and boys wanted to be him - so it’s no surprise that Jimin was highly sought after - nor that he was the biggest flirt you’ve ever met. Hence why you hated when he flirted with you. Mostly because, you know he never does it seriously. And also because the last thing any of the girls he actually flirts with are, is cute.

You would know.

You’ve seen them sneak out of your dorms on the off chance he brings them over. Though, more often than not, he tends to sneak into their private quarters. That is, of course, if they aren’t one of the Potions Apprentices from the lower years. You and Jimin being in your third year of the Apprentice program, and your tenth and final year of Hogwarts. That is, of course, unless either of you choose to do your Mastership - which would be another five years.

If you’re being honest, you don’t really have anything against being cute - mainly because when he says it, he says it with a sweet smile. What you do have against it, however, is that he says it almost as if you’re a child, and not a grown, twenty-one-year-old woman. Though, that may be more to do with your own shyness and inexperience; especially in terms of the opposite sex. But still, you couldn’t deny that it hurts sharing a dorm with Jimin, and being in such close proximity, and yet still having him not be attracted to you.

Sure, he flirts with you - using any opportunity he can get to tease the ever-loving hell out of you. But it’s not like he means it, or that he ever takes it any further than his flirtatious banter. Not like he does with most other girls. No. When Jimin flirts with you, there’s always an air of jest, and restraint around him. He doesn’t stare at you with his smouldering gaze - as if he could devour you whole with just his eyes. He doesn’t lower his voice to that raspy husk of his - the one that is filled with a promise of sin. And he definitely doesn’t exude that same aura of raw dominance - the one that has most girls’ cores trembling with an ache that only he can satiate.

Of course, what you do have, in comparison to those other girls, is Jimin’s friendship - which is more than you can say for most of them. Particularly because most of Jimin’s friends tend to be the other guys on the Apprentice Program. After all, it’s hard to befriend the people you’re constantly trying to sleep with, or have slept with. You think. You don’t really know… You know, considering your own sexual inexperience with other men. Yes, Jimin has never shown any interest in you, and he’s never really flirted with you seriously, but at least you can say that you’re actual friends, and that you get on with each other beyond wanting to tear each other’s clothes off.

Although, needless to say, you doubt he’s ever thought of tearing your clothes off.

Which is… not something you can say about yourself.

Lost in your own thoughts, you don’t notice Jimin return - now fully dressed. At least, not until you feel his plush lips ghost against your ear. “Are you ready to go?” comes the low, sultry purr of his voice. Not expecting the sound, you immediately jump in your seat, your head whipping to the side as you stare at him wide eyed. Once again, you come face to face with him - the proximity making you jerk back with a strangled cry.

“Jimin!” you shriek in surprise, and your choked yelp has the Head Boy bursting into a peal of laughter. Heart thundering within the confines of your chest, and the ever-present flush of embarrassment painting your cheeks once again, “Stop doing that!” you chastise, your face twisting into a sulk as you glare at him. Entire body wracked with laughter, Jimin heaves for air as he tries to catch his breath - short gasps breaking through his howling.

When he continues to laugh, your lips twist into a deeper pout, and your glare intensifies; and sensing your rising ire, Jimin swiftly holds up his hands in a motion of surrender. “Sorry, Sorry. You were just so lost in thought, I couldn’t help it,” he chuckles while wiping his teary eyes. “What were you thinking about that had you so enraptured?” he asks, an impudent smile etched onto his lips. Remembering just whatyou’d been thinking about, your blush deepens, and you swiftly shake your head.

“Nothing!” you quickly interject. The abruptness of your answer has Jimin cocking his eyebrow, and eyes narrowing playfully, he looks at you - mischief dancing in his dark eyes.

“Oh? Doesn’t sound like nothing,” he purrs. Then, eyes widening in thought, a smirk creeps onto his face, “Hmmm. Were you thinking about me? Maybe something along the lines about how you’d seen me in just a towel a little earlier?” he croons, and you suck in a sharp breath at the low huskiness to his voice. That’s a first.

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you swiftly shake your head while throwing the blanket off of you. “N-No. I was thinking a-about how h-hungry I am,” you quickly snap, wincing slightly at the shakiness to your voice. It’s a brazen lie. Even you don’t believe you. And there’s no way in hell that Jimin does, at least not from the sly smirk curled onto his lips.

“Are you now? Hungry for food, or something else?” he teasingly quips, causing you to huff.

“S-Shut up. Let’s just go,” you mutter under your breath, your head angled to the ground as to try to hide your own mortification.

Jimin simply laughs at you, his shoulders shaking with mirth, “Whatever you say, Princess.”

On the seventh floor of the North Tower, the next day, you sit in the Divination classroom. Warped shelves frame the circular room, cluttered with various odd curios. Fading tarot cards, argentate scrying mirrors and lustrous crystal balls fill half of the shelves; china teacups, dust-lined feathers, and candle stubs filling the other half. Wooden furniture crams the room, the walnut timber long since scratched, chipped and faded: ravaged with time as some edges collect dust. The classroom is dim, with a few shafts of mellowed sunlight filtering through the greyed, heavy velvet curtains that hang from the tops of the arched windows.

Chandeliers dangled by wrought iron chains - and sheer, red scarves cover the lamps, bathing the room in an eerie crimson glow. A fireplace sits in the front of the room - right by Professor Trelawney’s table - the amber fire flickering behind cast iron grating. Though, rather than illuminating the space in its light, the dancing flames only add to the arcane feel surrounding the room. A brass kettle swings over the hearth as the tea leaves steep; and a sweet, woody scent wafts through the room. Sat at one of the many round tables nestled inside the room, you sink further into the paisley upholstered armchair, watching as the girl opposite you shuffles the Tarot deck effortlessly.

“Do you want a specific reading?” Eve, the eighth year prefect, asks.

Shrugging noncommittally, “Just whatever,” you reply. Eve huffs for a second time, blowing a thick black curl out of her eyes before glaring at you.

“You could at least attempt to take Divination seriously you know, even if you don’t believe in it,” she scolds.

Sending her an apologetic smile, “You know I’m only here to help you with your Divination homework.” Once again, Eve huffs. Nonetheless, with the way her shoulders relax, you know she doesn’t take offence by your words.

“Alright fine,” she sighs in defeat. Then, sending you a grateful look, “Thank you for this by the way. I know you’re busy, being Head Girl and in the last year of your Apprenticeship and all,” she continues, her nose wrinkling in the slightest.

Gracing Eve with a kind smile, you casually wave her off, “It’s alright. I owe you for helping us out anyway,” you respond. From behind you, you hear a low chuckle, causing the hair at the back of your neck to stand on edge as you hear the rich sound.

“You mean we owe her one, Princess.” Breath catching in your throat, you swallow imperceptibly, willing yourself to calm down. “Well, more specifically, I owe her one,” he continues as an afterthought.

His words cause your stomach to flip, butterflies flurrying through and leaving a fuzzy feeling in the pit of your abdomen. Angling your body in the chair, you turn, only to be met face to face with Jimin. With how cramped the Divination classroom is, there’s usually barely any space between the side edges of the various chairs. However, currently, the classroom is mostly empty, less than ten of you occupying it. And yet, somehow, you still find yourself impossibly close to him.

Eyes blowing out marginally, your mouth forms a surprised ‘o’ at the distance, or lack thereof, between the two of you. With how close you are, you can smell his sickeningly sweet breath - the scent of Sugar Quills so strong you can practically taste them on your taste buds. Swiftly realising your position, you back away in an abrupt movement - your chair scraping against the hardwood flooring. The screeching noise draws the attention of the other students, the muted, ambient murmurs coming to a halt as they turn to you.

Your cheeks immediately flush, the heat of embarrassment crawling from your throat to the tips of your ears. Ducking your head down, you sheepishly smile at the class and mumble out a ‘sorry’. At your apology, the rest of the students quickly turn back to their divinations, causing you to let out a breath of relief. Only for it to hitch when you hear the light tremors of Jimin’s tinkling laugh.

Turning back around, you flick your gaze over Jimin’s face. Dark hair - the colour of blackened pine - frames his face, the strands falling like silk over his head. His locks are parted in the middle today, rather than hanging loosely in front of his forehead, and the front-most tresses bear a slight wave; revealing soft lids and sharp brown eyes. Dressed in his white oxford shirt - his Slytherin robes hung loosely over the backrest - and his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, he looks the epitome of sin. It doesn’t help that his tie is loose around his neck either, the top button of his collar undone and revealing the thick arc of his throat, and the barest hint of his defined collarbones.

He’s lounging in his chair, his ankles crossed as he stretches them under the table. One of his elbows is pressed to the armrest, leaning his chin on the base of his palm, while his other arm is stretched out, long fingers drumming casually on the table. As your gaze roves over him, you can’t help the fuzzy feeling that settles in your stomach as he stares at you - obsidian eyes practically staring into your soul. Easily, he spots the fact that you’re staring at him, and immediately, a teasing smirk pulls at generous lips, his strong eyebrow quirking playfully.

“See something you like, Sweetheart?” he purrs, his sweet voice a few octaves lower as he mimics the sentiment from last night. The memory him dressed in nothing but a towel flashes in your mind: the sight of his muscular, wet body ingrained so deeply in your mind that just the recollection of it manifests itself as something incredibly tangible. A shiver runs down your spine at memory, as well as the deep tremors of his voice, and as the hairs at the back of your neck stand on edge, you duck your head - in a bid to hide your flushing cheeks.

“N-No,” you stutter out, and with the way your voice croaks, your blush deepens. Hearing your stammer, Jimin’s grin widens - his heated gaze roving over you almost predatorily. Responsively, you feel yourself shying from his eyes, your body curling into itself protectively.

Noting your reaction, Jimin lets out an airy laugh. God, you were such a Hufflepuff. He wasn’t one to often believe in the whole ‘students embodied their house traits’ bullshit - after all, people weren’t set into specific personality moulds. But when it came to you? It couldn’t be more true. A Hufflepuff through and through, you’re as hardworking as you are kind - and downright humble about it. It had been an incredible surprise when you’d been chosen as the Head-Girl beside him, most people expecting it to go to Penelope Graham. However, to everyone’s utter shock, it had gone to you instead, your scores in the Apprenticeship second only to himself. A fact that you’d kept to yourself, despite Penelope being one of the brightest Ravenclaws Hogwarts had ever seen, and a stellar Herbology Apprentice.

Thus, your grades, paired with your hard work throughout the years; not to mention your kindness, and willingness to help anyone, had landed you the Head Girl position. A choice that was still a sore subject for Penelope, who would lament about it to anyone and everyone. Nevertheless, if Jimin was being completely honest about it, however, he much preferred you to Penelope. And not just because Penelope didn’t know how to shut her mouth. Even when it was full of his cock. Though, he’d also be lying if he said it wasn’t partially because of that. Really, he didn’t know how she managed to prattle off constantly while still managing to breathe, and sucking his dick. It was almost magic. Pardon the pun.

No, you were a much better fit to him. Your patience was known through the school, and paired with your strong sense of fairness, it meant that most pupils, if not all, would more often approach you for help with their problems. And as a happy result, they’d leave him alone to get on with the more important duties. In fact, that’s exactly how you’d split your workload: you’d handle the student-body and prefects and anything pertaining to people in general, and he’d work on the other more mundane tasks; such as patrol duties, ensuring Prefect rosters for Hogsmeade weekends were sorted and all those odd bits and bobs.

Needless to say, it’s not like Jimin didn’t want to help the students. He doesn’t mindhelping them, and as Head Boy, he’d be duty bound to sort out whatever petty problems they have. He’d just do it begrudgingly, because the last thing he cares about are the frivolous issues of the student body. Really, who cared if Jonah Robins sat at the table Amber Cowen and her friends usually sat at in the library? A problem he knew you’d dealt with just a little over a week ago. Somehow, you’d managed to convince Jonah to leave the girls alone and all balance between the third years had settled. Something which caused Jimin to scoff. See, if it had been him dealing with it, he’d just tell the girls to find another table. Because it’s a table and it didn’t matter where they sat, as long as they did their work.

But that’s just him.

You, on the other hand, had a better sense of justice - and finding out that Jonah had purposely sat at the table to annoy the girls - you’d gotten him to move. Of course, most of the problems presented by the students were of similar nature - and Jimin didn’t understand how you had the tolerance to deal with them day in and day out without going insane. Though, that was just another one of the classic Hufflepuff traits manifesting in your personality. Honestly, he doesn’t think he’s ever met someone more Hufflepuff in his life.

“Uhh… Jimin?” you quietly call out to him, and his eyes widen slightly as he’s broken out of his contemplative reverie. Facial expression relaxing, Jimin realises he must have been intensely scrutinising you for the past couple of minutes - completely lost in his own thoughts.

Eyes casting over your face, he observes you for a moment. You refuse to look at him, your eyes skimming over the room as you actively avoid his gaze. Incessantly, you cross and uncross your legs, your body fidgeting under his heavy stare, and sensing the thick waves of nervousness that exude off of your being, Jimin’s lips twist into a mischievous smirk. And there it was. The one trait of yours that had piqued his attention when he’d first been officially introduced to you three years ago. Your timidness.

“Is something the matter, Princess?” he drawls, a perfectly trimmed eyebrow cocking. Immediately, you freeze, your cheeks heating even further as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth; only to gnaw at it. God, Jimin groans internally, you were so easy to provoke.

“N-No,” you stammer once again.

Lolling his head to the side, and resting his cheek in his palm, Jimin graces you with a sly smile. “Really? You look like you have something on your mind?” Then, flashing his teeth almost devilishly, “Maybe something from last night?” he hums. There’s clear innuendo in his voice, and unintentionally, you let out a little squeak. The sound is high-pitched, and just barely audible as it’s forced from the back of your throat.

“Last night?” Eve asks, her voice curious as she glances between the two of you. The heat of your mortification burns even brighter, so inflamed now that it starts sweltering your skin. Breath caught in your throat, you gnaw even harder on your lips - almost breaking the skin from how much you chew it. What are you going to even tell her? Nonetheless, before you can come up with an excuse, Jimin is already opening up his mouth.

“Just a small mishap in the Potions Apprentice Common Room. It’s none of your business. Shouldn’t you get on with your reading, anyway? I’d like to go back as soon as possible,” he interrupts, drawing Eve’s attention back to her homework. Face scrunching in distaste, she glowers at him.

With a huff, “You’re clearly lying to me. But fine, if you don’t want to tell me that’s your business,” she mutters, a scowl curled on her lips. Then after a short pause, “Also, if you don’t want to be here you don’t have to be. Feel free to leave,” she bites. Jimin discernibly bristles, and sensing his rising indignation - most likely from Eve’s snapping at him - you quickly hold up a hand.

“Why don’t we all just calm down?” you calmly say, smiling gently at both of them. Both Eve and Jimin open their mouths to argue, before closing them; Jimin shrugging his shoulders offhandedly while Eve lets out a deep, conceding breath. Turning to Jimin, your earlier embarrassment slowly ebbs away and you clear your throat, “You don’t have to be here you know. I was the one who offered to help.”

Jimin scoffs in response before waving you off dismissively. “The only reason you offered to help was so that Eve would take up setting up the Yule ball in my place,” he begins.

“Yes, because you have that Wizarding Chess competition you want to go to,” you butt in, causing Jimin to nod.

“Yeah. A competition I could have skipped. But you asked Eve to help you instead, so I could basically shirk my Head Boy duties, and it’s now more work for you,” he explains. Once again, you shake your head.

“It’s not that much work. Besides, I don’t mind. You’ve been talking about this tournament since last year, I know you’ve been looking forward to it,” you cut him off once again. Jimin halts for a moment, simply looking at you, a picture perfect expression of stoicism painted across his face.

Honestly, who were you trying to kid? He knows how much work the Yule ball is, and that while third-year Apprentice’s tend to have more free time (and hence why they now have the Head Boy or Girl position in comparison to seventh year N.E.W.T students), you’ve taken up a few more of the Prefect’s duties, since the seventh year Winter Exams are coming up soon. More than that, with how often students come up to you for help, your official duties tend to get pushed on the backburner even further. Hence why you’d had to brew three potions last night. Once again, he has no idea how you do it. Or why you do it. You’re way too courteous, and far too kind - even to the people you don’t know.

Letting out a sigh, “It is more work. Which is why I’m here. Even if I’m not really helping, I’m going to see it through with you,” Jimin says. Involuntarily, you feel your chest tighten, that telltale warmth flurrying through your stomach as your heart flutters within your chest. Before you can thank him, however, Eve bangs her tarot deck on the table.

“Maybe you’ll let me do a reading for you then?” she asks, her top lip curling shrewdly as she smirks at Jimin. The Slytherin Head Boy simply sneers in response.

Turning his attention back to his open textbook, “Yeah sure. When Merlin rises from the dead,” he snickers under his breath. Then, “Just get on with the reading,” he mutters. Eve’s mouth curls into a snarl, but before the eighth-year Gryffindor can respond, you draw her attention.

“Should we start?” you say, an encouraging smile on your face. Eve’s gaze flicks to behind you, and for a moment, you think she’s going to say something. However, she simply takes a deep breath and calms herself down.

“Alright, yeah,” she says, returning her own apologetic smile. “You don’t want any particular reading, do you?” she asks, and when you shake your head, she smiles. “Then, it’s okay if I pick one?” she questions. This time you nod, and Eve’s smile brightens. “Alright, wonderful! Then… I’m going to do one on love and sex,” she continues. Immediately, you choke on your own spit.

“Eve!” you splutter, causing her to look at you, her eyes glinting mischievously.

“What? I’m almost nineteen, I’m allowed to do them,” she says, her voice laced with faux innocence. Scowling slightly, you send her a pointed look.

“That’s not the point!” you try to argue.

Swiftly, a coy smile creeps onto Eve’s lips, “Oh? Does the prim and proper Head Girl have something to hide?” she sing-songs. Feeling an intense stare on the back of your head, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You don’t even need to turn around. You already know Jimin’s attention is on you both once again.

“N-No! It’s just-” you begin, only to deflate. What could you even say? Sensing your defeat, Eve snickers.

“Well, if you don’t, then there’s nothing wrong with me doing one, is there?” she asks. With no way out of the situation, your shoulders fall and you let out a muted noise of concession. “Perfect! Then, I’ll begin,” Eve continues.

With her mind made up, Eve begins to work. She starts by setting up her reading space: placing three candles onto the table. A pink one sits at the top of the table, right in front of you, while a white one sits in the left corner on her side, a purple one on the other. The candles form a large triangle, her tarot deck placed right in front of her, and an incense burner sitting right in the middle of the table. After the candles, she begins by placing her crystals down: rose-quartz and garnet are placed on the corners beside the pink candle on your side, and then an onyx on her side - in another triangular shape. Once she’s set up, she waves her wand - four bottles flying from one of the shelves that lines the classroom and into her hand. From the inky scrawl on the labels, you read them as ‘dried cherries, ‘saffron sprigs’, ‘steeped deer musk’ and ‘jasmine-infused oil’.

Meticulously, she adds the ingredients to her incense pot: exactly four teaspoons of dried cherries, half a sprig of saffron and three drops of the steeped deer musk. Once she’s done, she adds two tablespoons of the jasmine oil, before crushing it all together using a pestle. Once the mixture has formed a smooth paste, she inspects the concoction, before nodding in satisfaction - happy with her handy work. Carefully, you watch her. The eighth year Gryffindor is sly, and witty, and more often than not a handful to deal with. Still, she’s kind, and helpful; and when practising Divination - her favourite subject - there is no one who’s more reverent than her.

Fully prepared to begin her reading, Eve finally closes her eyes, and levelling her breathing, she takes in deep inhale before exhaling shallowly. From your divination class in fourth year, you know that she’s trying to find the centre of her magic. It only takes her a few moments, and then, she opens her eyes. Muttering a few spells under her breath, she points her wand towards the candles, slowly bringing them to life. She starts with the white candle, and then the purple, and finally the pink; and when she’s done, she taps her wand onto the incense burner.

Immediately, the mixture is enkindled, visible puffs of smoke wafting from the paste and into the air. The scent is rich, and fragrant - the notes of jasmine and cherry entwining together in a sweet aroma that has you entranced. The light perfume is deepened by the scent of the saffron and musk; the two heavier notes cutting the floral essence with a darker, more sensuous odour. The incense is inebriating, and calming at the same time, and you find yourself readily wanting to dive deeper into it’s intoxicating hold - let the scent consume you and lull you deep into its grasp.

With her ritual completed, she places her wand down onto the table beside and after a quick shuffle of her deck, she closes her eyes once again. Lips moving subtly, you hear her lowly mutter another spell, and then, she begins pulling the cards. Enraptured by her movements, you watch as she draws exactly five cards, placing them in a pentacle shape around the burner, and in the middle of the triangles of crystals and candles. Her eyes remain closed until she draws the fifth card, and then, eyebrows cinching slightly, she mutters another spell before finally opening her eyes.

Glancing down at the spread, she cocks her eyebrow, a small frown marring her face. The slight perturbation etched on her face has you intrigued, and practically on the edge of your seat, you wait for her to say something. You don’t have to wait long, however, because letting out a surprised whistle, “Well, this is certainly unexpected,” she breathes out.

“It is?” you ask, shuffling to the edge of your seat as you look at the cards closer. Eve hums in response.

“Yeah. The first card - The Hanged Man. You’re in need of urgent release. You’ve become rigid and careful, and there’s a strong need to release your inhibitions,” she begins. Only to pause, “But… you’re indecisive about what you want, and this suspension of your feelings is causing a sense of unhappiness. You need to open yourself emotionally, and more physically,” Eve begins explaining, her manicured nail tapping at the card as she speaks. Hearing her words, you immediately freeze, your muscles locking as Jimin’s face suddenly flashes in the back of your mind.

Oblivious to your shock, Eve continues, her finger moving to the next card, “The Devil. Usually, this card is ominous, and bears a sinister edge; one that most fear. However, in this reading, it’s a symbol of intense hedonism and fervent passion. It’s a card full of lust, an indicator for an intense yearning for a person. There’s a desire to submit; an overwhelming physical urge.” Her voice hangs heavy in the air, and with each word she utters, you feel yourself growing hotter and hotter; your collar suddenly tight. However, you refuse to move. You can’t move. Because you can feel Jimin’s heavy stare behind you, his presence magnified by the sudden silence of the room.

The dull sear of mortification settles in the pit of your stomach, and suddenly, you can feel all the students’ gaze on you. None of them, however, are as intense as Jimin’s; his eyes practically boring into the back of your skull. You want to open your mouth, to tell Eve to stop, lest you embarrass yourself any further. Nonetheless, you simply can’t bring yourself to do it. You don’t know why. Perhaps, it’s because your mouth is suddenly dry, almost as if you’ve swallowed cotton. Perchance it’s because your throat is tight, the muscles suddenly constricting - stifling any words that form in the back of your pharynx.

Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because a small, masochistic part of you is curious: intrigued by what else Eve will say, what else she will reveal… and perhaps even Jimin’s reaction.

“When The Lovers follow The Devil, that’s usually a sign of not only balanced, emotional love, but also physical desire. There’s a need to be touched, to be claimed, and consumed; and an even greater sexual hunger that covets your partner, or the object of your desires. You want to truly submit, with implicit trust and consent, to this person,” Eve’s deep, yet distant, voice continues. Again, however, she pauses - almost as if in thought, and staring intensely at the card, she bites her lips. “This could also be a sign that the person you desire, desires you back,” she mutters.

That has you audibly snorting. Yeah, right. You highly doubt that. For a moment, Eve flicks her gaze to you, her eyebrow quirking in intrigue, and swiftly, you send her an apologetic smile. Shifting in your seat, you sheepishly gesture for her to continue. Eve’s stare falls back to her cards, her hand moving to the fourth, and penultimate card.

“The Tower. The fear that giving into these lustful urges will be your undoing. To give into your desires will be to bring about a change that you aren’t necessarily ready for - or maybe that you think you’re not ready for - since it’ll lead to a significant change in your life. Still, this card is one of extreme surrender to chaos, a surrender that you are refusing, or resisting,” she begins once again.

Then, circling her nail around the card, and tapping - two audible thuds resounding through the air, “Nevertheless, the liberation that comes from giving in is an extraordinary release, even if the act of giving in is terrifying. The Tower is an important card. It is one that cannot and will not be avoided. The major life change must happen. It must be experienced for you to progress in life,” she foretells, her voice almost foreboding.

“Which brings us to the last, and final card. The Ace of Pentacles. This is usually a symbol about fresh career starts. However, in a reading about love, it tends to read as an egg wanting to be fertilised. The ten of pentacles is a family oriented card, but this one is the act of conception; the desire to engage in sex. However, it’s more than just carnal hunger. You want this person; truly and utterly. More than you probably even realise,” and with that last declaration, Eve finishes her reading.

A strong silence befalls the classroom, her last words lingering in the air and echoing in your mind over and over again. For long, drawn out moments, neither of you say anything - you: because you’re caught between mortified and speechless, and Eve: to let you truly grasp and process her words. The few students that straggle about are equally quiet, more than fascinated by the surprising divination. None, however, are more surprised than Jimin.

Unable to tear his eyes from the back of your head, he simply gawks at you. Truth be told, like you, he doesn’t believe in Divination; even with its roots nestled deep within magic, it’s still considered an imprecise school of wizardry. That being said, he can’t help the way your taromency has piqued his interest - especially, considering the fact that it’s a reading based on your love and sexual feelings. At first, he’d been ready to ignore both you and Eve, and happily sink into ‘Moste Potente Potions’ - a book he’d managed to liberate from the Restricted Section, thanks to not only his Head Boy status, but also his Apprenticeship.

However, the moment he’d heard Eve explain the first card, he’d been ensnared by your divination. With each word that had slipped out of Eve’s mouth, he’d grown more and more curious, not to mention shocked - because really, there was no way that that was your reading. Jimin has lived with you for three years now, and he likes to think he knows you well enough.

He knows you well enough to know that, no matter what, you refuse to drink pumpkin juice - finding the drink sickening - and yet, you adore pumpkin pasties; a treat you frequently buy on your trips to Hogsmeade. He knows that you can’t fall asleep at night without reading a book - and that you often read ‘The Tales of Beedle the Bard’, having read them so frequently, in fact, that you could probably recite each story word for word. He knows that you aren’t a huge fan of chocolate, but that every month, for one week, you will inhale it like your life depends on it.

He knows you well enough to know that though friendly by nature, your actual friends are few and far between: choosing to give your trust to a select few individuals. You don’t call people your friends lightly, and it gives him immense joy, and pride, that he’s one of the few people you’ve granted that title. Most importantly, however, Jimin knows that you’re completely, and utterly, inexperienced with men. In the decade you’ve been at Hogwarts, not once have you ever had a boyfriend. He knows because he’s asked around. Purely out of curiosity, of course.

With how much time people spent at Hogwarts, rumours tended to be rampant and everyonehad at one point, had a rumour about them and someone else. Everyone, that is, except for you. At first, Jimin had worried that the two of you wouldn’t get along - that your inherent natures would be the complete opposite and that he’d hate you. After all, he didn’t want to spend his Apprenticeship years hating the only other Apprentice in his year. However, after meeting you in his eighth year for the first time, he’d finally understood why you’d never had any rumours. And that was simply because you spent most, if not all, your time studying.

By all means, it was only exacerbated by your incredibly shy, and timid, nature - especially when boys were concerned; but it was primarily because, you just didn’t seem to think about romance or sex. Which was precisely why he had never really given you a second-thought when it came to spending time with you. Of course, he flirted with you, but it was more playful than anything. Mostly because he enjoyed watching the way you’d get flustered, and how you’d stutter to respond to him. It was incredibly cute, and dare he say, endearing.

Yet, even then, he’d never considered actually pursuing you, and even now, he doesn’t know if he would. You’re complete opposites, and he doubts that you’d even wantanything to do with him - especially since you very clearly knew his reputation. His reputation being that his stable, steady girlfriends are few, and far between. More than that, he’d always dismissed you as someone who’d be into vanilla, missionary sex day in day out; and granted, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that if that’s what you liked. But the last thing he, Park Jimin, ever would be, is vanilla. Hence, his reasons for dismissing you as a partner early on.

However, that was before today. Now, he’s not so sure. And not being sure is driving him completely wild. Because now, now he wants to know just what you really are like. Just what really makes you tick in bed.

“So, ____, who’s the object of your desires,” Eve’s voice suddenly breaks the silence, her eyebrows wiggling at you. Breaking from his reverie, Jimin immediately hones his attention on the two of you once again. This, he has to know. He doesn’t know why, but he’s suddenly filled with the burning need to know just who you so carnally want to submit to.

“N-No one,” comes your choked reply, and even though he can’t see you, Jimin already knows that your face is flushed with heat. “I-It must be a wrong reading,” you quickly continue, Eve’s eyebrows shooting into her hairline.

Humming in thought, “Hmmm. It’s all open to interpretation ____, so perhaps,” she ponders out loud. A coquettish smile curls onto her face, and levelling you with her impish stare, “Would you like another reading to be sure?” she asks. Swiftly, you shake your head.

“No, it’s pretty late. And Jimin wanted it to be done as soon as possible,” you quickly interject. Ears perking at the sound of his name, Jimin lets out an airy life.

“Oh no, by all means, do continue if you need to. I remembered I have nowhere to be,” he purrs. Despair floods your stomach at his words, and internally you scowl. He had to choose now to be genial? Really?

“See, Jimin doesn’t mind,” Eve snickers. Letting out a little huff, you quickly get up from your chair and begin gathering your things.

“Still, it is late - almost curfew in fact. You should all start getting to your dorms,” you reply, your voice louder so the rest of the students hanging in the class could hear. A chorus of groans resonate through the air, but nevertheless, they begin packing up their own divination items.

“Spoil sport,” Eve mutters under her breath, however, there’s no real heat to her words; and like everyone else, she too begins clearing the table. As she waves her wand, the bottles, candles and crystals flying back to their original places, “Are you sure you can’t let me do another reading? It would really help,” she asks.

With a sigh, you shake your head, “I’m sorry, I have Head Girl patrol duties tonight, and I still need to get back to the dorms and shower,” you respond.

Behind you, Jimin immediately freezes, his book partially in his bag as he himself gets ready to leave. Now, that’s interesting. Glancing at you from the corner of his eye, he casts his gaze over your body. A lie. A very clear lie - but a good one - because only he would have known it’s a lie. You don’t have Head Girl patrol duties tonight, you know that, and he knows that. Why? Well, because he’s the one who comes up with the patrolling schedules - and you definitely don’t have any tonight. Which begs the question, why are you lying?

Naturally, it could be because you don’t want a second reading, but Jimin has known you three years now, and it’s not often that you refuse to help. Moreover, it’s also not often that you lie - which only has his intrigue growing. Just what were you up to? Not that you do have to be up to something, you really could just not want to have a second reading, and usually, Jimin would happily accept that reading. If it weren’t for the niggling feeling in his gut that it’s something more, and if there’s one thing Park Jimin does, it’s trust his gut feeling.

Hearing your explanation, Eve swiftly deflates. “Alright, that’s fair enough. Still, thank you though. I’m sure Trelawney is going to love this,” she grins. Though, that only has sheer mortification rippling through you. Because really, the last thing you want, is Trelawney hearing about your deepest, darkest feelings. A part of you wants to ask Eve not to use it, however, she’s promised to leave your name out of it, and knowing Trelawney, she’ll barely even pay any attention to it - both facts quickly settling your embarrassment.

“You’re welcome,” you respond with a nod as you gather your bag. Then, turning to Jimin, you tersely smile at him, and, “Ready to go?” you ask - your eyes flicking from his to the space behind him, as if you’re avoiding his gaze.

Momentarily, he looks at you, but no matter how long he stares, you refuse to maintain eye contact. The peculiarity of your actions only has his curiosity growing more aroused. Internally making up his mind to get to the bottom of your behaviour, “Yeah, let’s go,” he simply responds.

It’s later that very same night, when Jimin finds himself up well past moonrise. Usually, by now, he’d long since be in the comfort of his bed, enjoying the privacy of his own dorm. Or he’d be sneaking into the room of another apprentice. Today, however, he finds himself waiting in the Potions Apprentice common room; nestled on one of the plush velvet armchairs that makes its home by the hearth. Weak flames lick at the scorched wood, the fire waning as it slowly dies out. It bathes the darkened room in a dim light, and despite his position right beside the fireplace, the shadows hide his body well enough.

Internally, he wonders how long he has to wait for you to make a move, for you to sneak outside the common room and towards wherever it was that you wanted to disappear for the night. Really, he doesn’t know why he cares so much, and normally, he wouldn’t; you’re a grown woman after all, and you’re more than welcome to your secrets. Which is what he’d say if you were anyone else. But you’re not. You’re ____ Graves. The same ____ Graves he’s lived with for the past three years, and the last thing you have are secrets. Realistically speaking, he should probably give up and head to bed, because really, why did it matter what you got up to late into the night. However, ever since hearing you so easily lie to Eve, he simply can’t get out the incessant need to find out what you were hiding.

That is, if you are hiding anything. Because really, the later it gets, the more he finds himself wondering if he’s deluded himself into believing that you had secrets in the first place.

Mentally, he wonders if he should just head up to bed. It’s way past curfew, and you don’t seem to have emerged outside of your private bedroom; the rest of the Potions Apprentices having all retired for the night long ago. As he sits in the armchair, he contemplates his decision. It’s nearing midnight now, and you still haven’t so much as moved, and he’s really starting to believe that perhaps you’ve already retired for the night. Just as he shifts, however, he hears a door creak causing him to freeze immediately.

Head snapping to the stairs that lead towards the bedrooms, he watches as you slowly creep out of your bedroom and down the stairs. The common room is dark: the only light source the dwindling flames of the fireplace, and the faint, overcast shafts of moonlight that filter through the still waters of the Black Lake; and as a result, your wand is lit up - the eerie blue-tinted light of the ‘Lumos’ spell guiding your way through the space. Hidden by the shadows of the corner he finds himself in, Jimin’s breath hitches as you carefully tiptoe past him.

To his absolute luck, however, you don’t notice him. Instead, you simply slip out of the portrait that guards the Potions Apprentice Quarters. Jimin waits a couple moments for you to get far enough from the entrance before swiftly following you out. As soon as he slips through the portrait, he sees your frame disappear behind one of the corners, and hastily, he casts a disillusionment charm onto himself, followed by a ‘Muffliato’, before he begins tailing you.

It’s late after curfew, and as a result, the corridors are completely deserted. Iron sconces hang high up the beige brick walls and the flickering amber light illuminates the large, arched halls of the castle. Expertly, you navigate through the maze-like hallways, and with how purposely you move - your feet directing you down a specific route - Jimin knows you’re not out for Head Girl patrol duties. Albeit, he’d already known that. Though, this simply confirms his suspicions.

The entire journey, Jimin keeps a steady distance from you - close enough to keep you in his line of view, yet far enough that you won’t feel his presence. You lead him down twisting and turning corridors, and up towards the Grand Staircase. Realising that you’re planning on moving to a different floor, Jimin quickly moves closer towards you, still staying far enough for him to remain undetected, while keeping up with you as you navigate the ever-changing staircases. He doesn’t know how long he follows you, but around ten minutes later, you slow down your pace.

A look of surprise flits across Jimin’s face as he looks around. From the looks of it, you’re both on the seventh floor, in the left corridor. Though, he has no idea whyyou’ve come here. This area of Hogwarts is barely used. There are no classrooms in this corridor - it’s essentially a large stretch of hallway. Despite this obvious fact, however, Jimin watches as you walk down the passage, stopping when you get to a large tapestry. Quietly coming up beside you, he looks at the moving depiction in confusion.

Trolls dressed in ballet tutus are illustrated on the large curtain, their green-skinned body fanned out in various positions as they dance about with large clubs held in their giant hands. In the middle of the cluster, is a man, dressed in medieval-esque clothing, two of the trolls hitting him with their weapons intermittently. Suddenly, recognition dawns within him. It’s the attempt of Barnabas the Barmy to teach the trolls ballet. Enraptured by the odd, mobile tapestry, Jimin doesn’t notice you move - not until he watches a large, ornate wooden door manifest itself into the castle’s wall.

Eyes widening, he takes a step back - the sudden appearance of the entrance surprising him. He doesn’t have long to collect himself, however, because without a moment’s hesitation, you’re opening the door and entering it. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, Jimin hastily slips into the room after you - the door shutting behind him with a quiet thud. As soon as he steps inside, however, he pauses - not expecting the sight to greet him.

The room is large, yet completely barren. Marble arches and pillars line the perimeter of the room; plush carpet, the colour of beige, lines the entire floor - and even through the soles of his Dragonhide boots, he can feel how soft it is. There’s only one piece of furniture that sits inside the odd space - a large mirror. With clawed feet, and an ornate frame that has faded into a dull, metallic shade of gold with time, it looks ancient; and wholly mysterious. There’s even a strange inscription in the framework, in a language he can’t quite decipher, but one that seems familiar at the same time.

Nonetheless, Jimin doesn’t have much time to contemplate the peculiarity of it all, because all of a sudden, you’re moving. Drawing his attention once again, he watches you step up to the mirror, looking into the reflective glass intensely. The entire occurrence is strange, because it’s just a mirror, and yet you watch it so curiously, so intensively, that he wonders just what you’re looking at. And then, for a second time that day, he has an epiphany. He knows this mirror. Or well, more specifically he’s read of it.

It’s the Mirror of Erised - the one that shows you what your heart desires the most.

Now even more curious, Jimin’s head tilts to the side as he looks at you, his face a picture of curiosity. Soon, however, it morphs into shock. Because, completely out of the blue, you start stripping.

Febrile skin flushed with desire, you stare into the Mirror of Erised. The sight that greets you is no surprise to you, at least not anymore. You see, the first time you’d stumbled upon the Room of Requirement, had been this summer, towards the end of your ninth year. Back then, you’d just been a prefect, and on one of your nightly patrols, you’d stumbled across strange noises coming from one of the abandoned classrooms on the seventh floor; and being the principled prefect you were, you’d instantly investigated. The sight that had greeted you, had shocked you to the core.

You had expected lots of things behind the classroom door. Perhaps it was Peeves, causing a ruckus as he usually does. Or perchance Filch doing his own rounds. Or maybe, just maybe, it was two students out past curfew. However, the last thing you’d expected was to see Penelope Graham, the second-year herbology Apprentice, bent over a table as Park Jimin thrust into her from behind. Her uniform had been in a state of dishevelment, her shirt wide open and her bra pulled under to reveal her breasts. The most surprising thing, however, had been the fact that her hands were tied up, and her panties stuffed into her mouth as Jimin harshly moved behind her.

Suffice to say, the entire scene had been such a shock, and way more than you’d expected to find behind the classroom door. More than that, you couldn’t bring yourself to break them up, your own timidness getting the better of you. As a result, you’d quickly turned around and ran away - racing to the opposite end of the seventh floor - only to find yourself in the empty left corridor, right by the large tapestry that depicted Barnabas the Barmy and the trolls. You can still remember your embarrassment, the sight of Jimin roughly fucking Penelope burned into the back of your mind. As you contemplated what you’d stumbled across; pacing back and forth in front of the tapestry, you’d accidentally come across the Room of Requirement.

The randomly-appearing door had surprised you. You’d heard of its existence of course, from your cousin, Sybil Lovegood, but you’d never gone looking for it. Curious about what the room had manifested for you, and needing to recuperate from what you’d just witnessed, you’d entered - just to discover the empty room, and the Mirror of Erised. What you’d spotted in the reflection, your heart’s greatest desire, a few months ago had completely shocked you.

Because depicted in the magic glass, is you - your body naked and bound - as Jimin fucks you, just as roughly as he did Penelope. Or perhaps, even rougher.

Shaken by the discovery, you’d swiftly left the room. Only to return the next day. And the weekend after. And then the week after. However, then you’d broken up for holidays, and in your tenth year so far, you’d been too busy with head duties to return. By all means, you’ve spent many nights laying in bed, with fantasies of Jimin sweeping through your head as you lose yourself in your own pleasure. However, your fantasies could never compare to what the mirror showed. Though, the real deal probably couldn’t compare to this either, but what could you do? You doubt Jimin would actually ever fuck you; that is, if his adversity to flirting with you was any indication.

Tonight is the first night you’ve returned in a while, prompted by Eve’s tarot reading, and eyes darkening with hunger, you watch your reflection’s face twist with lewd pleasure; Jimin’s intense, domineering gaze levelled on you. Molten lust pools between your thighs, your stomach twisting with the desirous heat of hunger as your core trembles. Your gaze trails down the body of your mirror-image, settling on your core, and almost as if he knew, mirror-Jimin lifts your reflection’s leg up - allowing you a better view of her swollen, sodden cunt.

A low whimper resounds through the still room, your voice breaking the quiet. All of a sudden, the heat that sears your body is too much, causing you to grip your wand tighter, and vanish almost all your clothes with a simple spell - purposely leaving your skirt on. Cool air brushes against your heated sex, and a low mewl falls from your lips at the sensation, your thighs spreading a little further. Without wasting a single moment, you slip your hand between the apex of your legs, merely to cry out in pleasure when your fingers brush your throbbing bud.

Knees buckling at the pleasure, you tentatively stroke your clit, your breath turning laboured as ripples of ecstasy course through you. Nonetheless, it’s not enough, and you have no doubt that this position is soon going to get uncomfortable. Thus, without wasting another moment, you carefully drop to your knees before sitting on your ass. Bending your knees, you draw your thighs closer to your body, before spreading them wide open. Able to access your bare folds more freely, one of your hand dips between your legs: a single finger trailing through your dewy slit.

You run the digit through your sex a couple of times, and once the pad of your finger is coated in a thin film of your own wetness, you press it to your clit once again; slicking the bud under your ministrations. In the mirror-reflection, Jimin mumbles something indiscernible into your mirror-self, and you watch as her cheeks tinge with heat, but as usual, does as he says. Her hand winds down towards her spread thighs, only to splay her cunt wide open. Then, in one smooth motion, Jimin spears his cock into her - impaling the entire length into her dripping pussy.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you responsively dip a finger into your own honeyed entrance. The rings of muscle are tight, and firm, but slippery with your arousal, you manage to slip a single digit into yourself. Steadily, you push your finger into you. It’s fairly short, and girthy, and yet, there’s still a pleasurable ache to the intrusion - your inner walls rippling around the digit. You push it in as far as you can before crooking it at the knuckle. Promptly, you feel your body shake - your nail inadvertently dragging against your sweet-spot.

For a moment, your eyes blur at the euphoria, your eyes threatening to shut. Nonetheless, you forcibly keep them open - your gaze focused on the way mirror-Jimin begins surging into your reflection, your entire body bouncing from his rough thrusts. Imitating his actions, you begin plunging your finger into your silken depths - the movement causing the pad of your digit to drag against the erogenous spot inside of you repetitively. With each stroke, you feel the pleasure inside your stomach intensify, morphing from a dull ache into a maddening burn.

Nestled in the shadows, Jimin’s jaw drops at the lewd sight of you. When he’d decided to follow you tonight, this was the last thing he had expected. At first, he’d meant to announce his presence - question just what you’d been staring at. However, before he could say anything, your clothes had suddenly been divested off of your body - flying into the air before folding neatly onto a pile on the floor. Tongue-tied by the action, his jaw had dropped, and he’d been rendered speechless - because really, why would he have expected you to suddenly strip to just your skirt?

Nonetheless, his astonishment set aside, Jimin can’t help but feel his skin heat as he watches you - his cock twitching to life in the confines of his trousers. He still has no idea what it is you’re seeing, but still, the sight of your legs spread wide, and your hands buried between your thighs is incredibly hot. From his position, he can’t see you in full - your skirt partially covering your sex - and with only his imagination to go off of, his mind runs wild. He wonders just what your cunt looks like as you pleasure yourself: does your clit throb? Are you soaked beyond belief - strings of your arousal leaking down your ass? Does that little cunt of yours tremble around your fingers?

Each question has waves of hunger washing through him, and with each thought, hot lust bubbles through his veins. Desperately he wishes to find out the answers - to remove your hand and push your skirt up - only to bury his face between your thighs. He wonders how you look amidst an orgasm, and the type of sounds you make; the type of sounds your cunt makes. Even so, even with his urgent desire overtaking him, he knows he can’t. He enjoys being your friend - a hard title to come by - and this would cross a boundary he’d initially been hesitant to cross; especially since you’d never shown interest in him, or any other boy for that matter. More than that, however, he figures he should leave you to your own privacy - having voyeuristically watched you for long enough.

However, just as he’s about to turn on his heel and exit, a sudden cry of pleasure tears from your throat - louder than any other that has spilled from your mouth. All of a sudden, you jerk, and your free hand darts out behind you: the palm dragging against the ground as you brace your entire body. Your back twists, the motion pushing your chest further into the air - drawing his attention to them - just for it to move to the way your thighs begin trembling. Holy fuck. Were you about to cum? Merlin, he reallyneeds to get out of here.

“J-Jimin,” you suddenly whimper and Jimin stops short - the muscles of his entire body locking. Did you… had you just…?

Breath catching in his throat, Jimin strains his ears; focusing his entire attention on you. It couldn’t be. There was no way you’d just said his name. His mind was obviously playing tricks on him. Swiftly, he dismisses the sound. Until, “Oh… Jimin,” you moan. It’s louder this time, and clearly - so discernible, in fact, that it resonates through Jimin’s ears.

Turbulent eyes roving over you, and once he’s confirmed that it is indeed his name, a smirk curls onto Jimin’s plump lips. His cock strains inside his boxers, the hardened member straining against the tightness of his trousers as it begs to bury itself inside of you. A surprising reaction, considering he’d never seen you in that way before - then again, how was he not supposed to want you, after learning that your heart’s desire, is him. Suddenly, Eve’s voice echoes through his mind, and recognition dawns inside of him. He’s the man from the divination - the one you truly want to submit to; the one you so desperately yearn for. Immediately, the smirk on Jimin’s face twists further, pulling into a large, predatory grin.

Well, who was he to deny you your deepest wish?

Stalking closer towards you, Jimin waves his wand discreetly - ending both the charms that hide him from your view. However, so lost in your own pleasure, your focus concentrated on whatever it is you see in the mirror, you don’t notice him. Closer to you now, your soft mewls and whimpers are louder - the sounds practically music to his ear - and this time, when you call out his name, “Need something, Princess?” he purrs in answer.

Instantaneously, you freeze. Every single one of your muscles locks at the sound, your lust dissipating as dread settles in your stomach. Head snapping up, you finally notice Jimin’s reflection in the mirror, and blinking blankly, you slowly realise it’s the real Jimin. Swiftly, you shut your legs, the movement locking your hands between, as you stare at him wide eyed.

Mortification surging through you, “J-Jimin,” you stammer out.

“Oh, Sweetheart, don’t stop on my account. I was quite enjoying the show.” His eyes flash with mischief, his gaze dropping towards your legs perceptibly, before locking back onto yours.

“I-I can e-explain,” you stammer out.

Jimin simply hums in response. “Oh? I think I have a pretty good grasp of the situation, Kitten,” comes his rumbling voice - the husky warbles reverberating through the air and directly to your core. Inhaling sharply, your eyes widen imperceptibly. Kitten. That’s a new one. More than that, the pet name drips from his lips like viscous honey, laced with a promise of lust-filled sin.

Deliberately, he stalks around you, your eyes following him - as if transfixed - until he’s directly in front of you, just beside the mirror. With your positioning - his broad body towering over you - your face to crotch with him, and quickly, you spot the prominent bulge of his cock. Throat tightening, you swallow thickly - your mouth suddenly dry. Jimin spots your gaze easily, causing him to chuckle.

“Eyes up on me, Kitten,” Jimin purrs, and almost as if you’re trained to obey, you follow his command; albeit, reluctantly.

Forcibly tearing your eyes from his covered manhood, you level your gaze onto him once again. He stands above you, fully clothed; waves of powerful dominance seeping off of his entire demeanour. Meanwhile you’re next to naked - with your hand still buried into your cunt - and as a result, you can’t help the ripples of humiliation that strum through you; your core reflexively clenching. Against your will, a wanton whimper escapes your mouth, your cheeks tinging darker with the heat of embarrassment. From the way Jimin’s eyes twinkle, you know he’s heard you.

“It looks to me like you’ve been playing with that little cunt of yours to thoughts of me, am I right?” he teases, and pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you tentatively nod. Jimin hums once again, his head cocking to the side as he regards you coolly. Under his intense gaze, you feel completely exposed - his heavy stare roving over your entire body as he scrutinises you.

Then, his eyes landing on your skirt, Jimin lets out a low, taunting coo. “Is that pretty pussy wet, Princess? Does your cunt ache to be filled by my cock?” he asks. The vulgarity of his words doesn’t surprise you, you always had a feeling Jimin had a filthy tongue on him, and reflexively, you nod once again. Under his teasing words, you feel yourself grow wet, your lust-filled desire mingling with the humiliation that flutters through you.

Surreptitiously, your hand begins moving, the digit still buried inside you flexing as you slowly plunge it into you. The movement is imperceptible, and near non-existent, but somehow, Jimin still spots it. With a chuckle, “Is this turning you on, Sweetheart?” he coos. Mouth still dry, it’s all you can do to nod. However, Jimin’s eyes simply narrow into slits, and, “Articulate,” he hisses.

“Y-Yes,” you force out obediently, your finger moving even faster. Jimin coos tenderly, his lips curling into a wry sneer.

“Of course it is, Kitten,” he coos. Then, gesturing his head towards your hand, “But is your hand enough? Wouldn’t you like the real thing? Wouldn’t you rather have my cock?” he asks, a playful lilt to his voice.

You don’t even have to contemplate your answer, because immediately, “Please,” you whimper.

“Please what?” he hisses, and realising he’s going to force you to say it, you inhale a deep, steadying breath.

“J-Jimin,” you stutter out in an attempted protest.

“I want to hear you say it. I want you to beg with that pretty, innocent little mouth of yours,” Jimin purrs, his eyes darkening with dominance as he watches you.

Brushing your humiliation to the side, you take in a deep, steadying breath. “P-Please g-g-give me y-your cock,” you stutter out whilst imploringly staring at him through the thick of your lashes.

Immediately, a roguish grin crawls onto Jimin’s lips, and chest purring in approval, he walks around you - the heels of his expensive Dragonhide shoes clicking against the ground - before he settles behind your body. His long legs splay on either side of you, the limbs bent at the knee: effectively caging you between his figure. The strong muscles of his chest press flat against your naked back, and involuntarily, you shiver - his warmth seeping into your skin.

Hands moving to loosely rest on either of your thighs, the cold metal of his ring making you gasp as it presses against your febrile flesh, “Spread your legs,” he orders. The sound rumbles against your back, and for a moment you hesitate - the tips of your ears burning in humiliation. Nonetheless, you do as he says: tentatively splaying your legs open once again. Jimin watches your reflection in the glass, his eyes dropping to the apex of your spread thighs. Material of your skirt falling between, it obstructs his view of your cunt, causing him to let out a low tremor of disapproval.

Angling his head to the side, he brushes his lips against the outer shell of your ear, before taking the topmost part between his teeth and biting down softly. The sudden action causes you to let out a soft whimper, and you both see, and feel, Jimin’s lips twist into a sardonic smile. Lightly nibbling on the cartilage, his hands indolently trail further up your thighs, causing your eyes to flutter at the sensation. Just when he gets to the soft flesh of the top of your inner thighs, however, Jimin suddenly stops.

“Lift up your skirt, Princess. Show me the way that cunt drips for me,” comes his command. The intonation of his voice is low, a slight rasp underlying it, and reflexively, goosebumps prickle at your skin.

You suck in a sharp breath, and with shaky hands, do as he says. Gripping the hem of your skirt, you hesitantly lift it up - both your eyes glued onto the mirror - where you watch the way you slowly expose your sodden cunt. The moment your bare sex meets his gaze, Jimin lets out a pained groan. Swollen with need, the flesh of your sex is puffy - your clit visibly throbbing as a thick sheen of your wetness coats your skin. Pools of arousal gather around your entrance, the ring of muscles trembling under his heavy gaze, causing thin rivulets of slick to trail down the seam of your ass.

“Oh? You’re fucking drenched. What is it that you see in the mirror, that has you leaking like this? You’re practically creating a puddle,” he chuckles, a dark, taunting inflexion cutting his sweet voice.

A near inaudible whimper falls from your lips, and when you don’t respond, Jimin bites your ear harshly. Soft stings of pain strum through you, and, “Y-You,” you cry out in response, your cunt clenching visibly.

Watching the way the ringed muscles contract, “Oh? Just me?” Jimin chuckles darkly. You shake your head in response.

“N-No… us,” you reply. Fingers flexing, he begins softly massaging your thighs: kneading the supple flesh under his deft digits.

“Tell me.”

“W-What?” you ask, shock evident in your eyes. Tongue flicking out, Jimin licks the outline of your ear, only to brush his lips against the shell.

“Tell me what you see,” he elaborates. Thick waves of hesitation exude off of you at the command. There was no way - absolute none - that you could describe the vulgar scene, born from your deepest fantasies, and depicted in the magical surface.

Sensing your trepidation, Jimin’s face softens, and he buries his face into the side of your head. Lips pursing, he places a tender kiss to your hair. “We can stop if you want, or if it’s too much,” he mumbles; his hands soothingly rubbing your thighs. Your heart flutters at his concern, and you shake your head quickly.

“I-I’ve just… never done something like this,” you begin, your voice coming out as a whisper. Internally, you cringe at the timidness of it. It’s not that you don’t want to fuck Jimin. You do. Desperately. It’s just, you’re not used to it - to having someone see this side of you - and the idea of revealing it to Jimin, the object of most of your lascivious fantasies, is more than just a little daunting.

Awareness crossing his face, Jimin nods, and you watch in despair as his eyes turn tender - a stark contrast from the heavy dominance that had just twinkled within them. “We can go slow… I’ll be gentle,” he offers.

“No!” you instantly object, Jimin’s eyes widening at the sudden protest. Realising how loud you’d been, you quickly curl into yourself and avert your gaze. Throat tight, you swallow thickly; and gathering your courage, “I- I don’t want gentle. I- I want you to be rough. I want you to fuck me,” you confess, A few pauses break your sentences as you force yourself to be honest with him, however, once the words are out, you feel a sense of relief flood through you.

Jimin sucks in a sharp breath, and against the curve of your ass, you feel his hardened cock throb. “Are you sure?” he asks, his eyes searching yours. This time, when you nod, there’s not a semblance of hesitancy.

Bolstered by your sudden courage, “I want you to fuck me as hard as you can. I want you to dominate me, and make me cry,” comes your sudden declaration. The hands on your thighs flex, Jimin gripping the flesh almost painfully.

“Fuck.” He takes a deep breath, and then exhales just as deep. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asks once again.

Unwavering, “Yes.” Then, “Please,” you add - practically begging him now.

“Pick a safe word.”

Surprised by his words, “W-what?” you dumbly ask, causing him to smile at you genially.

“You’re a virgin aren’t you?” he asks; his tone is passive, almost kind, and not mocking at all; yet, you still find yourself growing embarrassed as you nod in response. Pressing another kiss to your head, “Then pick a safe word you can use if things are getting too intense and you need to stop,” he continues.

“Oh. Um… Mallowsweet,” you blurt out after a short deliberation.

The instant the word slips from your mouth, Jimin lets out an amused exhale, and you feel his lips curl in bemusement. “Mallowsweet? Really? The first thing you thought of was a potion ingredient?” he asks, causing you to pout.

“Safe words have to be something you won’t normally say during sex,” you mumble, and once again, Jimin laughs.

“You’ve got me there. Alright, Mallowsweet it is,” he nods. Then, after a short pause, “Don’t hesitate to use it, okay?” he continues. You don’t say anything, simply nodding firmly. Happy with your assurance, “Good girl. Now, tell me what you see,” he praises, only to follow the sentiment with a command.

A ripple of excitement courses through you at the heavy authority that laces his voice once again; his eyes dark with domineering hunger as he practically scrutinises you. Attention returning to the mirror, your breath catches in your throat at the sight that greets you. Your reflection selves have changed positions, now almost perfectly imitating the two of you. Cradled in mirror-Jimin’s embrace, your counterpart has her legs spread wide, and her lips spread even more lewdly - her own digits splaying them apart - as Jimin fucks his thick fingers into her drenched heat.

When you don’t say anything, your attention instead focused on the erotic scene depicted in the magical surface, you suddenly hear a loud slap echo through the air. All of a sudden, a sharp sting of pain flares across your thigh, and you hiss when you feel Jimin spank your flesh.

“I gave you an order, Princess. I expect you to obey,” Jimin spits, his voice hissing against your ear.

“Ah- I’m- I’m spreading my own…” you begin, only for your own mortification to pause.

“Your own?” Jimin prompts, a smirk curling onto his face at your clear embarrassment.

Letting out a whine, “V-vagina,” you choke out with a stammer. Immediately, Jimin brings his hand down onto your thigh, a sharp slap resounding through the air.

A low cry slips through your lips and, “Cunt,” Jimin hisses.

“W-What?”

“Cunt. You’ll call it your cunt, or your pussy. Do you understand?” he responds, causing you to nod your head. “Good girl. Now, continue,” he urges, his hand delicately massaging your thigh as he soothes the flesh he’d spanked.

Cheeks burning, “I-I’m spreading my own c-cunt,” you whisper. A jolt of ravenous hunger sparks through Jimin as he hears the vulgar word slip from your lips and he lets out a low, pained groan. He’d ordered you to say it, and yet, it somehow sounded even sweeter, even more sinful as it drips from your mouth.

“Are you now? Show me how,” comes his next order. Shuddering at his breathy voice, and thick ripples of pleasure coursing through you, you do as he says.

One of your hands uncurls itself from the material of your skirt, the other hiking the fabric higher up your body. Next, using your now free hand, you press two of your trembling fingers on either side of your cunt, before spreading them in a ‘V’ shape. Under the ministration, you both feel, and watch, as your slick folds are pulled apart - revealing even more of your bare sex to Jimin’s gaze. Seeing the way your flesh peels open, Jimin lets out a strained groan.

“Fuck. Look at you. Dirty fucking slut,” he spits, and hearing his words, the walls of your cunt automatically clench. With the way your pussy is bared for Jimin, he easily spots the movement, causing him to chuckle. With another spank on your thigh, “Do you like that, Princess? Do you like the way I call you a slut?” he taunts. Fist curling tighter into the cotton fabric of your skirt, you nod shyly. Jimin’s hand splays further down your thigh before he begins drawing slow, teasing shapes into your flesh.

A shudder runs down your spine at his actions. In their new position, his fingers are impossibly close to your cunt - so close, in fact, that you’re sure he can feel the intense heat radiating from your sex. Deliberately, however, he keeps them away from where you need them most, and under his ministrations, you slowly feel your body temperature rise; the ache in your pussy intensifying tenfold. One finger moves awfully close to the flesh of your nether lips, and each time he draws an indiscernible shape, the bone of his knuckle grazes your clit.

“Do you want me to keep calling you a slut?” he taunts, and eagerly, you nod your head, a wanton whine slipping through your throat. “Then beg,” he hisses.

With a whimper, “P-Please degrade me,” you moan.

“Merlin, you’re such a fucking whore. Who would have thought that the innocent, shy Head Girl was such a desperate, needy little slut?” Jimin questions, and hearing the blatant derision in his voice, your stomach flips with humiliation. Then, pressing his lips to your ear, Jimin moves his hand to purposely graze your cunt. “I’m going to fucking ruin you,” he groans, his eyes swirling with dark lust. Then, he gestures back to the mirror.

Already knowing what he wants, you take in another breath. “Y-You’re f-fingering my p-pussy as I s-spread my c-cunt,” you stutter out, your ears burning at the crude words.

“Like this?” he teasingly asks. Inhaling sharply, your eyes flutter as you feel his middle finger teasingly caress your dewy folds: the pad of the digit tracing down your swollen lips. You nod your head.

“Y-You’ve got t-two fingers in me. T-Thrusting them as you f-fuck my cunt,” you continue. Finger moving further down, Jimin runs the tip of his nail around the quivering, ringed outline of your cunt.

“Fuck. Such a pretty, needy, pussy. See how it trembles for me?” he asks. It’s rhetorical. You know it is, because the next thing he’s doing, is plunging his finger into you.

A high-pitched moan spills from your lips, your back arching as your head falls onto his muscular shoulder. He stops once he’s knuckle deep, and curling his finger, “I’m going to fuck this tight, unused little cunt, Princess,” he continues. The cold metal and cut gemstones of his heirloom ring presses against the sodden, heated flesh of your cunt. The band is incredibly thick, the maddening girth threatening to plunge into you as it presses against your entrance.

Nonetheless, Jimin stops. Instead, he languidly pulls his finger out, before abruptly plunging it back inside. Heavy moans elicited from your throat, your cunt spasms as you feel his ring press against your ringed muscles once again. Thrusting the crooked finger in and out of you, he indolently tests the pliance of your inner walls; relishing in the resistance he feels. “By Morgana, you’re so fucking tight. Such a tiny, little hole…” In a deliberate motion, he pulls his finger out - so slow, that you can feel every ridge of his knuckles as it retreats out of you.

As he holds up his finger, your eyes widen at the sight. The entire length of his digit is coated in a thick sheen of your wetness; filmy strings trickling towards his palm. The glint of his ring catches the low lighting, the shine only highlighted by your arousal. Jimin lets out a baritone chuckle, “So fucking wet too. You drip like such a slut.” His hand moves back down to your cunt, and stroking up the slit, you whimper the pad of his finger brushes your throbbing clit, the wet bud slickening under his ministrations.

“I’m going to make you cum so much that all you can think about is the way my fingers, or tongue, or cock feel inside of you,” he murmurs. The intonation of his voice is heavy, with an intentional husk to it, that has you whining in need. With each word, he tantalisingly circles your engorged bundle of nerves. His touch is feathery, virtually non-existent, and the tormenting motions has your core burning with need; the muscles of your thighs twitching intermittently.

“Mmmm, yes. By the time I’m done with you, you’re going to be a cock-hungry little bitch, begging me to fuck you like the cumslut you are.” All of a sudden, he presses his digit down onto your clit before rolling it in hard, tight circles.

Abruptly, “Ah- Please,” you cry, your thighs beginning to tremble on either side of Jimin’s. Between his filthy words, his purposeful taunting ministrations, and your own, previous ministrations, you swiftly feel the telltale fog of euphoria cloud your mind.

Jimin dips his head into the crook of your neck, and watching your body through the glass of the mirror, he stares darkly at your figure. You’re completely wired: eyes-half lidded and clouded with lust while your mouth is parted - breathless shallow gasps slipping from your throat. With each stroke of his finger against your clit, he watches your entrance responsively clench - forcing thick streams of your essence out of your honeyed hole and down your ass.

“Are you close, Kitten? Are you going to cum from just having me tease this needy clit?” he taunts, his breath fanning across the flesh of your neck. Throat tight with desire, it’s all you can do to nod your head. Pleasure burns in your abdomen, your skin flushing with heat. Still, Jimin continues his ministrations - pulling you closer and closer towards the brink of your orgasm. “Fuck, yeah you are. Merlin, you’re so sensitive... Tell me something Princess, no one’s played with you like this, have they?” he asks.

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you shake your head once again - too tongue-tied by pleasure to speak. Plump lips wrap around your flesh, and flicking out his tongue, Jimin begins peppering hot, open-mouths kisses along the column of your throat. Teeth grazing against your sensitive skin, “No. They haven’t. I’m the first to see you like this, aren’t I? The first to touch this pretty cunt, and watch you drip for me,” he murmurs. The reverberations of his voice thrum along your throat, causing you to buck into his hand.

“I’m the first person who’s going to make you cum, Princess,” he whispers. Then, without a warning, he takes your clit between the knuckle of his forefinger and his thumb, and twisting, he pinches the bud. Simultaneously, Jimin sucks your flesh into his mouth, before biting down harshly. The abrupt pain has you crying out, your thighs shaking harder as you feel yourself teeter over the precipice of your climax. Before it can come, however, “But not yet,” Jimin growls before pulling away.

“N-No,” you cry out, tears misting your eyes as you feel your impending orgasm begin to fade. Thoughtlessly, you pull your hand away from where it’s spreading your cunt, and instead, you grab Jimin’s wrist; attempting to pull it back.

Swiftly, Jimin brings his hand down onto your cunt - harshly. A sharp, wet, smack resounds through the air as his fingers impact your swollen flesh. Under the ministration, you feel your clit smart: ripples of pain and pleasure thrumming along your nerves and setting your veins afire. Biting down on your flesh once again, “You’ll cum when I want you to cum, slut. Until then, be patient,” he hisses. A whimper slips from your throat, and you nod before letting go of his hand. Purring in approval at your obedience, Jimin’s tongue roves over your throat, soothing the tender flesh he’d harshly bitten down on.

“Spread your cunt for me again, Princess,” he orders, causing your fingers to fall back to your lips as you pull them apart. Jimin rewards your actions with soft kisses, his plush lips teasing the flesh of your throat. Lightly, he begins suckling and nipping: the skin blooming with bruises under his ministrations.

As he litters your throat with his marks, he retrieves his wand from beside him, and holding the long piece of elm he drags the tip through your slit. You gasp in surprise, your eyes widening as you watch him tease your folds with his wand. Against your throat, Jimin whispers a spell, the words inaudible. Out of the blue, however, his wand comes to life - the entire length vibrating as the point presses to your clit.

“J-Jimin,” you howl, your legs snapping shut as you feel the intense reverberations of his wand against your aching bud.

Immediately, Jimin increases the vibrations, and, “Keep your legs open, slut,” he orders. Sucking in a sharp breath, you forcibly part your thighs again, even as they tremble violently from the mind-numbing pleasure that wracks through your body from his wand. “Good girl,” he praises, his wand indolently circling the outline of your clit.

“J-Jimin- P-please,” you choke out, the muscles of your throat straining to spew out the words. Delirious with overwhelming ecstasy, your eyelids flutter with every motion, causing Jimin to chuckle.

“Do you want to cum, Sweetheart?” he asks, his voice dark, and taunting. Hastily, you nod your head. With how intensely his wand vibrates - the pleasure concentrated onto your clit, where the tip of the wood incessantly presses against the bud - you can feel your stomach twist and knot with each second that passes.

“Yes,” you gasp out. At the same time, your hips start rocking as you grind your clit into his wand - relishing in the powerful reverberations of the vibrating charm that strums through your clit. Again, the telltale sear of euphoria burns through your bloodstream.

Wanton hunger skims through you, and feeling how close you are to your orgasm, you begin wildly thrusting your hips. In the reflection of the glass, Jimin simply watches with a smirk as you ride his wand. With each roll of your hips, your clit drags against the vibrating wood - your cunt rippling over and over as you chase your high. A smirk crawling on his hips, Jimin mumbles something indiscernible, and you cry out when the vibrations increase tenfold. Screwing your eyes shut, you cry out in pleasure. However, for a second time that day, just as you’re about to sink into the mind-numbing ecstasy of your orgasm, Jimin is pulling away.

“NO! P-Please no. N-No, please. Please,” you cry - the words spilling from your words over and over again. With your orgasm cruelly ripped away from you for a second time, you can barely think. Behind you, Jimin lifts his head up, and presses a soft, soothing kiss against your head, and feeling the tender action, you whimper. Through the mirror, you look at him with teary, pleading eyes, and “P-Please,” you sob. Jimin simply lets out a sardonic smirk.

“If you want to cum, keep telling me what you see,” he coos, his eyes flashing with barely concealed dominance.

Eyes blurred with pleasure, and so caught up in the ecstasy Jimin reaps upon your body, you’d completely forgotten about the mirror. Blinking the tears from your eyes, you focus your attention onto the magical glass once again, only for a wanton moan to fall from your lips at the sight. Your reflections have swapped positions now - your body riding Jimin reverse-cowgirl. Even in the mirror, your legs are spread wide - giving you a lewd view of the way Jimin’s thick girth spears your tiny cunt wide open.

“Y-You’ve got me on your lap… my legs spread a-as you fuck me,” you begin once again. Jimin hums underneath you, his lips once again peppering hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat.

He rewards your compliance by pressing his wand to your clit once more, before he runs it down your dripping slit, and towards your cunt. Feeling the thin wood trace the ringed muscles of your honeyed hole, you clench involuntarily - the action threatening to swallow the tip of his wand. Jimin spots the motion, and laughing lowly, he begins pressing it against your cunt. With how wet you are, you easily take the slim piece of wood into you, your eyes rolling at the thin intrusion. Unlike Jimin’s, or your own, fingers, the wood is unrelentingly hard, and you feel it slowly open up the soft flesh of your inner walls.

As he continues pushing the length into you, soft pangs of pain flutter through your velvet depths - the untouched walls slowly widening. Still, the pain is next to non-existent, and with the vibrating charm accompanying the invasion, even that subtle ache is drowned out by pleasure. Once half the wand is inside you, Jimin stops, and instead, he begins fucking you with the wood.

“Like this?” he asks. You pull your lower lip between your teeth, and biting down hard, you nod in response. “How am I fucking you?”

Automatically, “H-Hard. You’re f-fucking m-me hard,” you respond.

Jimin’s free arm moves to wrap around your body, and your breath hitches when you see him inch his left hands towards your cunt. He moves deliberately, your eyes dilating with desire as you watch it in the reflection of the mirror. Even with your gaze trained on the appendage however, you’re not ready for the way his fingers feel as they stroke your clit. The moment you feel the calloused pads of his fingers caress your throbbing bud, you let out a keening mew - your thighs trembling on either side of his legs.

Simultaneously, Jimin picks up the pace; fucking his wand into you even faster as he begins toying with your swollen clit. A shudder of pleasure races down your spine at the foreign pleasure. Despite his wand being slim, your untouched inner depths are unaccustomed to the intrusion, and as such, intense waves of ecstasy flourish through your body. Hot, voluptuous lips trail down the arc of your throat, and getting to the flesh of your shoulder, he bites down - hard enough to indent the shape of his teeth into your skin - and causing you to gasp.

“Be explicit. Tell me what you see,” comes his next order.

“Y-Your thick co-cock is spreading my c-cunt as you fuck me h-hard. I-I can see the way you c-cock opens my pussy,” you describe. Jimin lets out a strangled groan under you.

“Is that right?” he grunts. “Does my cock look good in your cunt, Princess?” Jimin begins taunting. “Do you like the way that pretty little virgin pussy stretches around my fat cock?” His warm breath fans over your naked shoulder, Jimin suckling his marks into your flesh between his sinful words. “Are you imagining how it would feel? How I’d fill you up - stretch you out - and carve the shape of my cock into you? So that you know who that precious cunt belongs to?” The intonation of his voice is incredibly deep, and turbulent with salacious desire. It tremors through the air, cutting the sounds of your wet cunt and erotic moans.

“F-Fuck,” you whimper at his words, your cunt involuntarily quivering around his wand; sucking it even deeper.

Feeling the movement, his wand slipping further from his grip, “Oh? You like that don’t you? Of course you do. Filthy little cockslut. Look at the way you swallow my wand. The way you drip and coat it in your cunt juices. You’re practically gagging for it. Begging me to defile this tight, sweet cunt,” he taunts. His words elicit a high-pitched, breathless whimper from your throat, and eagerly, you nod your head.

“Please fuck my cunt,” you beg, your eyes wide and imploring as you stare at him through the reflection. For a moment, Jimin stills. Your words are unprompted, and as such, completely unexpected. Yet, hearing the words drip from your mouth, laced with wanton ardor, has his entire body thrumming with exhilteration.

“Fuck. You’re a sin. My sin,” he groans in response. Then, he mumbles something unintelligible. You barely have time to comprehend what he says, because out of the blue, you feel your inner walls begin to stretch. Crying out at the sudden change, your eyes widen as you feel the girth of Jimin’s slender wand get thicker. The girth sluggishly increases, yet, with each second that passes, you feel your smarting walls stretch around the unyielding invasion.

Jimin doesn’t say anything. Rather, he begins fucking his wand into you ever quicker, simultaneously increasing the pace of his fingers against your clit. Pleasure and pain intermingle together, your eyes rolling back as your thighs begin to tremble. The sensations Jimin lavishes on your body are far too much to comprehend, and swiftly, you find yourself drowning in the fog of euphoria. Stomach twisting with the knot of your incoming orgasm, your breath turns laboured as you begin fucking back onto Jimin’s wand.

With each plunge of his wand into you, you feel your walls pull apart just a little more, and the vibrations of the wood only has your veins searing with desire. Soon, the wand swells past the size of what feels like two fingers, and you cry out when the burn of the stretch begins rippling through your inner walls. The pleasure is too much to handle, but you never want it to end. In fact, you wish it’d last forever: the sensations wholly addicting. In spite of that, however, “M-Mallowsweet,” you whimper.

Immediately, Jimin stills, and halting the spell, he slowly pulls his soaked wand out of you. Sitting up straight behind you, the hand playing with your clit moves, and he wraps his arm around your waist in comfort. He looks at you in concern - worry painted across his delicate features. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” he swiftly asks, his gaze roving over your body. A surge of timidness floods through you, and biting your lip, you simply shake your head.

“I-I’m okay. I-I just,” you begin stammering, only to stop when you feel your embarrassment amplify tenfold. Jimin’s strong eyes knit together, and pressing his lips to your head, he presses an encouraging kiss to your flesh. Taking a deep breath, you gather all your courage, and, “I want your cock to be the first thing that stretches me out,” you whisper. At the sound of your steady voice, you internally cheer. At least you’d managed to get the words out without being a stuttering mess this time.

Sharply, Jimin sucks in a breath. Then, “Fuck,” comes his strained grunt.

In an abrupt flash, he moves. Grasping his wand, he plunges the wand into you once again. The sudden intrusion has your spine contorting, your head digging into Jimin’s shoulder as you cry out in pleasure. Expertly, Jimin angles the wooden rod inside of you and begins thrusting it in and out of your core with rough movements. At the same time, he mumbles under his breath, and your thighs shake as you feel the girth increase twofold as the wand begins vibrating inside of you once more.

“Ah- Jimin,” you cry, your eyes screwing shut as pleasure blinds your senses.

The hand around your waist pushes back between your thighs before he slaps your pussy once again. With the angle of his hand, the impact is concentrated on your clit, and feeling the sharp sting, a wail of ecstasy tears from your throat. Vehemently, Jimin begins spanking your cunt - focusing the slaps directly onto your hardened bundle of nerves. His punishing motions are only intensified by the way your fingers faithfully splay apart your folds: exposing the entirety of your throbbing bud to his actions.

“F-Fuck- Jimin,” you cry, tears beginning to mist at your eyes from the overwhelming mix of pain and pleasure that courses through you.

Pressing his lips to the shell of your ear, “Desperate little slut. You’re such a fucking cocktease. Do you have any idea what you do to me? Hmm, Kitten? Do you know how hot it is when you practically beg me to ruin that tiny cunt of yours? Hmmm?” Jimin growls out. You whimper at his voice. The usual sweet intonation is long gone. Rather, it’s filled with a mix of pure, carnalistic need, and dark dominance. Each sentence that spills from his lips is emphasised by a harsh thrust, and when you feel the tip of the vibrating wand drag against the sweet spot inside you, you cry out.

“Ah- Fuck- Jimin, please,” you sob. Between Jimin’s harsh spanks on your clit, and the vehement way he plunges his wand into you, you find your orgasm quickly building up. Heat prickles at your spine, your skin pricking with goosebumps as the white-hot pokers of euphoria sting at your flesh.

“Look at me,” Jimin hisses, and through the fog of deliriousness that clouds your mind, you hear the command. Opening your eyes, and briefly wondering when they’d shut, you come face to face with your reflection: Jimin’s intense gaze capturing your own. The sight that greets your eyes has you whimpering.

Your pussy is swollen, and so sodden that you can see thick strings of your arousal cling to the side of Jimin’s palm: the hilt of his hand grazing your cunt with each piston of his wand into your welcoming depths. Wetness leaks out of you in droves, and you don’t know how you haven’t noticed it, but you’re sitting in a puddle of your own wetness - the juices of your entrance soaking into the fabric of the back of your skirt. The lewd sight of your body has your breath turning shallow, and inhaling quick, sharp breaths, you feel your thighs begin to shake.

Spotting the telltale signs of your approaching climax, “Are you going to cum?” Jimin asks, and you swiftly nod your head. “Beg me,” he grits out.

Instantly, your mouth parts, however, your mouth is suddenly dry, and so lost in your incoming orgasm, you can barely find it in yourself to string together a coherent set of words. Still, you force out a few words; though, they come out garbled and incoherent. Lips curling into a sneer, Jimin snarls at you, and immediately rips his wand out of you. The sudden emptiness has you shaking your head, a loud howl of displeasure ripping from your throat. Wildly, your hips thrash, and you attempt to follow his wand as you feel your orgasm begin to subside.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Jimin brings down his hand onto your cunt - hard - and feeling the intense spank, your entire body jerks. “If you want to cum, you’re going to have to beg,” Jimin spits out.

Screwing your eyes shut, the tears finally begin falling down your eyes and you let out a dry sob. “W-Wanna cum. P-Please, J-Jimin, wanna cum. Please. Please. Please,” you wail.

With another spank to your clit, “Good girl,” Jimin praises. Then, he plunges his wand back into you.

The gesture is abrupt, and completely unexpected, and instantly, you’re forced over the edge of your own orgasm - the knot in your stomach suddenly unravelling. Shallow sobs ripping from the midst of your throat, the back of your head digs into Jimin’s shoulder almost painfully, and your body arcs as you begin cumming. Thighs quaking on either side of Jimin’s, your cunt clenches painfully around the wood inside of you, as blinding euphoria ricochets through your body.

With how much Jimin has already edged you, the force of your orgasm is threefold, incredibly overwhelming; and like nothing you’d ever experienced before. Toes curling with pleasure, you howl out his name, the sound coming out inarticulate, and close to inhuman. Waves of rapturous ecstasy surge through your body, your blood boiling with searing heat as your orgasm overtakes you. Momentarily, you feel yourself drift from reality - floating through the thick haze of elation - as you relish in the intoxicating sensation that floods through you.

Nevertheless, almost abruptly, you’re crashing down to reality. A dull, stinging ache shoots through your sensitive walls, the pain of overstimulation overtaking your mind-altering pleasure. Even with your entire body trembling from the force of your orgasm, Jimin continues plunging the vibrating length into you; though, his hand has moved from spanking your clit to rolling it in tight, vicious circles.

Hands jerking, you unclench your fist from your skirt, the other moving from your splayed cunt, and instead, you grip at his thick thighs. “H-Hurts- T-Too much,” you weep, the tears flowing freely as you blubber out a slew of strained moans.

Still, Jimin pays no mind to your cries, and instead, “Again. Cum for me again,” he urges. Twisting his wand inside of you, he shifts the angle to the tip of it, and presses it flush against the soft bundle of tissues that make up your sweet spot, before increasing the vibration to the highest setting.

A strangled howl tears through your lips: the intense reverberations against your g-spot causing you to careen straight off of the precipice of your climax. Second orgasm rolling in directly after the first one, your body violently quakes over him, and you wail out Jimin’s name - the muscles of your throat straining at the sound. This time, your cunt clamps vigorously - almost painfully - and you sob at the fervent heat of euphoria that consumes your entire being. The power of your contracting walls abruptly forces Jimin’s wand out of you, his eyes widening as you practically shoot out the long piece of wood.

“Fucking hell,” Jimin breathes out - his attention glued onto your cunt.

Gush after gush of wetness erupts out of your cunt; the jets of your cum pelting against the glass and dousing it in your essence. Jimin watches you squirt with wide eyes, the action completely unexpected. It only takes him a few moments to recover, however, and rapidly, he presses his fingers to your clit: strumming the viciously pulsating bud in quick, back and forth movements. His ministrations have your orgasm drawing out even further, and thick tears roll down your cheeks at the overpowering sensations that flood through you.

Brazenly, Jimin’s eyes stick to your swollen pussy, watching the way your drenched entrance contracts around nothing as you leak all over yourself, the mirror and the ground. Everything is drenched in your cum, from your own thighs, to parts of his trousers, all the way towards the mirror: rivers of your essence trailing down the magical glass and onto the floor. The heady scent of sex is heavy in the air, and taking a deep breath, Jimin’s chest purrs at the intoxicating smell of your cum.

Body erratically quivering from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your cunt continuously clamps around nothing - and with Jimin’s wand no longer pistoning into you - the sudden emptiness is only exaggerated by the involuntary movement of your walls. Coming down from your high, the ache between your thighs grows to be too much for you, and, “C-Cock- I n-need your c-cock. F-Fuck me. Please, fuck me,” you stammer out, the words coming out slurred; your tongue loose from your orgasms.

For a moment, Jimin falters, and looking at your fucked out form in the reflection, “Are you sure-” he begins.

Hearing the trepidation in his voice, you focus your glassy gaze onto him through the mirror, and, “Ruin me,” you breathe out. Despite the breathlessness in your voice, there’s not a single shred of hesitance in your eyes. Just ravenous hunger.

The corner of Jimin’s jaw flexes as he grits his teeth. Promptly, his apprehension ebbs - giving way to unbridled dominance as his gaze turns dark with lust. A low growl resonates through the air, “As you wish.”

In one smooth motion, Jimin’s hands move to your hips, and then easily, using all his strength, he lifts you and throws you up against the mirror. Eyes widening, you yelp at the sudden movement, your knees scraping against the smooth floor while your clammy hands press against the cold glass. You don’t get a moment to process the change. Without a moment’s hesitation, Jimin’s hands are curling between the soft flesh of your thighs, and forcing them apart, he spreads your legs further. The roughness of his actions cause you to groan, and willingly, you splay your knees further; pushing your ass out towards him.

Jimin’s chest tremors in approval at your gesture, and roughly pushing your skirt up your ass, he spanks the plump flesh. “Good little slut,” he praises. The sudden, acute impact on your lower cheeks has you squealing, the sound morphing into a garbled groan of pleasure. Emboldened by your reaction, and the way your ass ripples under the ministration, Jimin repeats his action.

A harsh slapping sound echoes through the air, pain flaring along your ass cheeks, and responsively, your head drops onto the mirror. The glass is cold, and refreshing against your sweat-soaked forehead. Jimin barely pays you any mind, and instead, he spanks you once more - as hard as he can. This time, you howl in ecstatic pain. Between the thick band of his ring, and his bulging biceps, this particular spank strikes your ass in the most enticing way possible. Cunt clamping down around nothing, you let out a low whimper at the incessant ache in your core, your breath fogging against the mirrored surface.

“J-Jimin- fuck me, please,” you beg.

One last time, Jimin brings his hand onto the plump cheek, before gripping the fleshy globes with both hands and pulling them apart. Under his action, you find your cheeks tinging with heat with mortification: Jimin exposing the entirety of your cunt and asshole towards his gaze. Seeing the way the puckered rim twitches, Jimin groans, and keeping one of your ass cheeks parted, he moves the other hand to brush your tight entrance.

A single finger indolently traces the ringed muscles of your ass, and you let out a breathy whine, your muscles locking at the sensation. “Such a pretty little asshole,” Jimin casually mutters. With how turned on you are, not to mention cumming so hard you’d squirted, the back entrance is completely slicked with your own juices. Grazing the blunt tip of his finger against your asshole, Jimin begins tracing teasing circles around the rim. “I bet it’s nice and tight in there. I bet you’d look so fucking hot struggling to fit my cock in that tiny little hole,” he mumbles. His voice is breathier, and filled with hunger, and you can’t help but whimper at the sound.

Suddenly, Jimin presses his finger against the rim of your ass, and your eyes widen as you feel the pressure: his finger threatening to enter your virgin ass. Nonetheless, before the digit can dip inside, he’s pulling away. “But that’s for another day,” he murmurs. “Right now, the only hole I’m interested in, is this one.” Abruptly, he forces two fingers into your cunt.

“AH-” you gasp, your eyes fluttering when he begins thrusting his thick digits in and out of your sodden entrance. Instinctively, your hips begin writhing, and pushing them back in slow movements, you fuck yourself onto his fingers: in a bid to take them deeper into you.

The silken walls of your cunt ripple around his fingers, and with each surreptitious contraction, your velvet cavern threatens to swallow his fingers further. “Such a needy cunt,” Jimin hums, his lips ghosting over the length of your shoulder as he presses chaste kisses to your skin. Parting his fingers in a ‘V’ shape, Jimin groans when he feels the tight resistance of your walls, “And so tight too.”

Driven near insane by the filth he spews, and the way he plunges his thick digits into your pussy, a soft mew slips from your lips. Nonetheless, it’s not enough. “D-Don’t t-tease m-me. W-Want your c-cock,” you beg with a stammer; your voice coming out higher pitched, and more desperate, than you’d intended.

“Insatiable whore,” he purrs, and despite the clear derision to his words, his tone is sweet. Almost affectionate. Still, Jimin pulls his fingers out of you, and instead, his hands move back to your ass. Cupping the cheeks, he pushes the plump flesh up and outwards, bearing the entirety of your dripping cunt to his gaze once more. He mumbles another spell under his breath, and to your utter surprise, a loud tearing sound fills the air.

You watch in shock as your skirt falls to tatters on the floor below you, but before you can say anything, Jimin is pressing his naked hardness flush against your bare sex. A shallow gasp slips through your lips, only for it to morph into a low groan when he begins grinding the velvet shaft into you. Hands still pressed flat against the mirror, you watch Jimin through the reflection. He’s still fully dressed in his uniform. The top few buttons of his white oxford are unfastened: exposing the defined peaks of his collarbone, and a few inches of his chest.

Meanwhile, his leather belt is undone, the two long pieces hanging on either side. Similarly, the button of his trousers and his zipper are open, his thick cock standing proudly through the opening. Attention dropping to the throbbing member, your eyes dilate with lust. He’s thick - incredibly thick. So thick, in fact, that a tremor of fear flutters through you, because there’s no possible way it’s going to fit inside of you. And yet, mixed with the fear is overwhelming anticipation, because you can’t help but want to feel his cock stretch you out. Even in the most painfully pleasurable way.

Jimin grips the base of his shaft with one hand, and angling it towards your entrance, he smacks the head against it. A loud, wet smack resonates through the air, and feeling the heavy weight of his cockhead against your wet cunt, you whine in need. Flexing his hips, Jimin slips his cock between your thighs before he begins thrusting it against your folds. Your slick lips spread on either side of his thick girth, and with each thrust, the prominent seam of his cockhead drags against your hardened clit.

Losing yourself in the pleasure, you let out a slew of breathless groans - your breath condensing on the glass - as you undulate your hips back onto him. Chest purring, Jimin lowers his head and presses an open-mouthed kiss onto the flesh just below the nape of your neck. At the same time, one of his hands grip your ass tighter, the other still holding onto his cock; and staring at you through the reflection, “That’s a good slut. Wet my cock with your cum,” he urges. Your body shudders at the sound.

Even as he kneels behind you, almost eye-level with your own gaze, he’s somehow still incredibly imposing. Noticing your gaze on him, Jimin smirks predatorily: his teeth peeking through the seam of his lips. Dark eyes, tumultuous with desire, lock onto your own, and while holding your stare, Jimin drags his cock through your folds in one long stroke, before pressing the head at your fluttering entrance. As the crown of his bulbuous cockhead pushes against your ringed entrance, you both moan.

Turning his attention down to your drenched folds, Jimin hisses when he spots the way your honeyed hole ripples. “Such a small, wet, little cunt,” Jimin groans. Then, gripping his cock tighter, he circles the head around your entrance, “Merlin, look at how tiny your cunt is compared to my cock. I don’t think it’s going to fit,” he chuckles.

Despite the clear taunt to his voice, you shake your head. “It’ll fit,” you whine, your hips thrusting back to take him into you.

Humming, “Hmmm, are you sure, Kitten?” he asks, and furiously you nod your head.

“I can take it. I can. Please. Please fuck me open. Please,” comes your soughed pleas, your eyes swirling with unbridled hunger. Behind you, Jimin exhales deeply at the clear neediness to your voice.

Jaw flexing, “Then take it,” he hisses through gritted teeth. That’s all he says, because the next thing you know, he’s pressing the crown of his cock against your cunt. A dull pressure builds up against your entrance, and your eyes widen at the sensation, a stifled whimper slipping through your lips.

You’re soaked, your entrance positively dripping, and as such, he should easily slip into you. In spite of that, however, he struggles to enter you: his absurd girth causing the taut muscles of your pussy to protest the stretch. For a moment your eyes flutter shut, causing Jimin to release your ass, only to spank it instead. “Look at me. I want you to watch as I fuck this tight, unused little cunt open for the first time,” he hisses.

Whimpering, your eyes snap open, your attention catching his. And it’s at that exact moment, that Jimin thrusts harshly. The force of his movement causes the mushroom-tip of his cockhead to squeeze into you with a sudden pop. Spine twisting, your back arches as a dry sob tears from your throat. Your eyes mist with tears once more, pleasure and pain surging through your body.

“J-Jimin,” you whine with a wince. A searing ache burns ripples through your tight cunt, the ringed muscles smarting as they strain around Jimin’s dense shaft. But, it’s not all pain. No, even through the agonising burn, there are intoxicating undercurrents of pleasure - the ecstasy cutting your discomfort.

Hands moving to rest on your hips, Jimin skims them over the swell before rubbing soothing circles into your soft curves. Arcing his neck down, he buries his face into your neck and presses a soft kiss to the column. “Shhh, Princess. You can take it, can’t you?” he cajoles. Regardless of his soothing gestures, however, Jimin continues pushing his unrelenting hardness into you.

Nodding your head, you force the entrance of your cunt to relax further, and feeling the muscles ease slightly, Jimin presses the rest of his cockhead into you - right up to where it meets the shaft. Once sufficiently inside of you, Jimin’s fingers flex, and digging the pads into the flesh of your hips, he begins pulling you onto his cock. Inch by heavy, agonising inch, his unyielding hardness spears into you. Gradually, the thick girth of his cock stretches out your walls: pulling your virgin passage apart around his heavy intrusion.

When he’s around half way into you, you let out a strangled cry, “F-Fuck, y-you’re h-huge,” you whimper. Jimin chuckles wrly.

“Are you sure you can take it, Sweetheart? Hmmm? Can your sweet, little, virgin pussy take my fat cock?” he taunts, slipping another two inches into you.

Nails scraping against the smooth glass, you drag your hands down the surface and hastily nod your head. “I-I c-can,” you respond.

Plump lips pressing to the roots of your scalp, “That’s my good girl,” he praises with a kiss. His warm breath fans across your scalp, and you shiver involuntarily.

Without a warning, his hips flex, and Jimin roughly thrusts the final few inches of his cock into you, the length bottoming out to the hilt. The sudden movement has you howling, your head falling onto the mirror once again. Against your will, your cunt ripples around his cock, your inner muscles contracting and clenching around his unrelenting shaft as it tries to force out the thick intrusion. Nonetheless, with Jimin’s hips pressing firmly against your ass, the clamping only massages his cock. Cock completely buried inside you now, his balls pressing flush against your wet sex, Jimin halts.

In the reflection of the mirror, Jimin watches as your face contorts in a mix of pain and pleasure. Your eyes are hooded: the lids fluttering with every passing impalement of his cock; and your mouth is parted: your breathing laboured as you struggle to take his cock. Regarding you with his dark, lust-filled eyes, he trails his gaze down your body - stopping briefly at your throat and shoulders - where he admires the love bites he’s littered onto your skin. Trailing his attention further down, he passes by your heaving chest: your breasts rising and falling with the movement, and your stomach, before stopping at the apex of your thighs.

In your current position, he can’t see the way his girth pulls apart your walls. What he can see, however, is the way your thighs tremble: the inner flesh covered in a thin sheen of your own arousal; and the way your nether lips drip with your wetness: filmy strings of your essence dangling in the air, some clinging to the skin of your thighs. Involuntarily, his cock twitches at the sight, and feeling the movement inside of you, you whimper out.

You have no idea how long you both stay like that - Jimin’s hands tenderly massaging your hips as he impales you on his cock. In fact, it feels like forever: time passing by slowly as you swim in the pain of his cock splaying your innermost depths. Gradually, however, the ache begins to ebb, and before you know it, you're left with just the delicious feel of Jimin’s immense girth splitting your cunt open. Perking up, you lift your head off of the glass, and taking a shuddering breath, you experimentally clench around his cock.

At the voluntary movement, Jimin’s shaft is emphasised inside of you, and you could swear that he hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he’d fuck the shape of his cock into you. Twin sounds of pleasure cut through the air: your low moan intertwining with Jimin’s strangled groan. Dropping his head down to your shoulder, Jimin bites down onto your flesh, and feeling the pain of his teeth sinking into your skin, you cry out in pleasure.

“Don’t do that unless you’re ready for me to fuck you,” Jimin warns. Deep inflexion of his voice resonating through your ear, you exhale deeply and repeat the motion. Except this time, you clench even harder.

“Fuck me,” you implore.

Mouth twisting into a derisive, lop-sided grin, “Hold on there, Kitten,” he purrs. That’s the only warning you get.

In one smooth motion, Jimin is retreating his cock out of you, until only the head is nestled inside of your cunt; only to thrust back in quickly. With one, swooping surge, he bottoms out of you, and the force of the movement has your entire body jerking. Grounding his knees onto the floor, Jimin uses the leverage to begin fucking you roughly. Hands braced up against the mirror, you attempt to find some form of purchase as your entire body jerks from his rough thrusts. However, with how smooth the glass is, you find none. Rather, your clammy palms slowly slide down the surface.

Sobs of pain and pleasure wrack your body with each drive of his hips, your toes curling as pleasure burns through your veins. Each plunge of his cock into your silken depths has you feeling every inch, every ridge of his cock. His immense girth pulls apart your walls deliciously, filling you up to your absolute limits. As the velvet shaft drags across your inner walls with each plunge, you feel him stimulate nerves you didn’t even know existed - the motions setting your entire body afire.

Jimin grips your hips tighter, and somehow, you feel his pace increase as he begins practically jackhammering into you. Your body jerks from the force of his thrusts, and consequently, you bounce harder onto his cock. Spreading your knees to brace yourself a little more, Jimin seizes the opportunity, and he angles his hips before he ruts into you even harder. The motion forces his cock to enter deeper into you, and you wail as you feel the blunt tip of his cockhead kiss the soft walls of your cervix with each thrust. Nonetheless, he pays you no mind, and instead, begins pulling your hips - forcing you to fuck back onto his cock.

His rough actions draw out feverish groans and slurred moans from your lips. The change in angle means that with each plunge of his cock, the head of his cock drags against the sweet-spot inside you, before it batters the back of your cunt. Soon, a dull ache begins settling deep within your stomach, and with each vehement pump of his cock, the discomfort slowly intensifies. “A-Ah, J-Jimin. T-Too d-deep,” you croak out with a stammer.

Dipping his head down, Jimin drags his lips against the shell of your ear. He takes the tip of it within his mouth, and biting down hard, “Isn’t this what you wanted, Sweetheart? Didn’t you want me to ruin your cunt?” he growls out. Then, with one deep thrust, he forces as much of his cock into you, before suddenly coming to a halt. “But if you want, I can stop.” The low tremor of his voice has your cunt clenching.

“N-No. Please d-don’t stop,” you whine, a mix of neediness and displeasure lacing your voice. Delirious with lust, you buck your hips onto his cock, and Jimin swiftly spanks your ass.

“That’s what I thought,” he hisses.

Out of the blue, one of Jimin’s hands moves from your hips, and instead, he hooks the arm under your knee. Hiking your leg up, he exposes your entrance to the both of you, and in the new position, nothing is left to your imagination.

The entirety of your sex is swollen with need, your clit visibly throbbing as it begs for attention. Slick with arousal, your entire cunt glistens in the low lighting of the room, and with how wet you are, thin rivulets of your arousal drip down your folds and onto Jimin’s balls. Dropping your gaze a little lower, you whimper at the sight. Your cunt is completely stretched, the ringed muscles pulled thin as they struggle to accommodate Jimin’s thick length. Like the rest of your pussy, your honeyed entrance is equally swollen; undoubtedly from Jimin’s brutal thrusts.

“Fuck. Look at you.” Jimin’s voice suddenly cuts the silence of the room. “See the way that unused little cunt has stretched? Mmmm. So fucking hot,” he hums.

Pulling out his cock, the both of you watch as your cunt grips his length, the ringed muscles being pulled with the movement. Once he’s only got his cockhead buried inside of you, Jimin thrusts in roughly once again. The sudden intrusion has you crying out in pleasure. “Fuck. How are you still so tight, Princess?” he grunts, his voice coming out strained. “Merlin, I’m not going to last long,” he mumbles, more to himself than anything.

“P-Please cum in m-me,” you whimper in response.

Jimin takes in a deep, steadying breath and then eyes flashing mischievously, “Oh, don’t worry, Princess. I’m going to ruin this cunt for anyone else. I’m going to fuck you so good that the only cock you want, the only cock you crave is mine. And then, I’m going to cum deep inside you, and dirty up your desperate - wet - pussy even more. So that you know, it’s all mine,” he growls.

“Now watch me fuck this sweet little hole open,” he orders. The next one of Jimin’s thrust causes your vision to blur, white spots blinding you.

Keeping your leg propped up with one of his arms, he moves the other from its position on your hips. Fingers tenderly stroking your hair, you shudder at the affectionate touch, only to cry out when he grips your hair and yanks your head back. The movement exposes your neck and using the opportunity, Jimin buries his face into the crook as he bruises it with more of his marks. At the same time, he begins riding you furiously - enjoying the way your inner walls ripple around his cock in the most enticing way possible.

Each thrust has his hips smacking against your ass and the sound of skin slapping is only broken by both your moans of pleasure, as well as the wet squelching of his cock fucking into your sopping wet cunt. Taking the flesh of your throat between his teeth, he nips and nibbles, causing the skin to turn tender under his ministrations. Then, releasing it, his tongue flicks out, he licks one broad line up your neck.

Getting to the spot just under your ear, he bites down on the soft flesh of your earlobe. “You like this don’t you, Kitten? You love the way this fat cock stretches you out. The way I ride your pussy hard and fast,” he taunts. The words shoot straight through your ear and down to your core, your cunt clenching responsively around his cock. You let out a garbled moan of affirmation, and Jimin lets out a throaty laugh.

“Merlin. Who knew the sweet little Head Girl was such a whore? Everyone thinks you’re so innocent. How do you think they’d react to seeing you like this? Your legs spread as you take my cock?” he questions and the teasing lilt to his voice has your thighs shaking.

Fog of euphoria nipping at the edges of your being, you feel the dull ache inside your stomach slowly intensify with every one of his thrusts. The muscles of your throat tighten at the pleasure, and in a bid to lubricate them, you swallow thickly. Behind you, Jimin continues plunging his cock into you, over and over again. Each thrust has his thick shaft dragging against every erogenous zone inside of you, and soon, you find yourself climbing higher and higher towards your peak.

Teetering on the brink of your orgasm, your stomach knots and twists. But it’s not enough. Between the apex of your thighs, your neglected clit viciously throbs - practically weeping as it begs for attention. Dry sob falling from your lips, “M-More. W-Wanna cum,” you croak out. Consumed by the pleasure Jimin reaps onto your body, electric ecstasy courses through your veins - your blood boiling with desire as you feel your end drawing nearer once again.

Swiftly, Jimin releases your hair. Instead, he thrusts his hand between your thighs and finding your clit, he presses the pulsating bud between his fingers. Toying with it gently, “Is that right, Princess? Do you wanna cum? Hmmm? You wanna cum all over this cock?” he ask, an apparent purr to his voice.

Driven mad with lust, it’s all you can do to gasp out your response. “Y-Yes. Please,” you slur. Skin prickling with goosebumps, your body flashes with heat. With each moment that passes, you can feel your orgasm slowly building up, your entire sanity dangling by a single thread.

Hearing your jumbled response, Jimin suddenly takes your hardened clit between his knuckles, and twists. “Then cum,” he orders with a hiss.

Instantly, a strangled wail of pleasure rips from your throat, the muscles of your oesophagus straining under the sound. The additional stimulation causes you to hurtle off of the precipice of your orgasm, and for a third time that night, you drive head first into bliss. Fingers scratching at the glass, you howl out Jimin’s name. Wave after wave of unadulterated bliss sweeps through you, the tide of your climax flooding into every fibre of your being as you sink into euphoria.

Eyes stinging with tears, white-spots blind your vision. Intense tremors wrack throughout your body, but even with the way your muscles tremble under him, Jimin continues thrusting his cock into you. His ministrations intensify your pleasure, and letting out a series of strangled sobs, you screw your eyes shut. Abruptly, the walls of your cunt clamp around his cock in a vice-like grip, and Jimin feels you grow wet once again. With your inner walls clenching and unclenching uncontrollably around Jimin’s thick cock, the Slytherin Head Boy lets out a carnalistic snarl.

“Fuck. That’s it, Princess. Cum around my cock. Fuck,” he urges with a groan. Nevertheless, your euphoria-addled mind barely registers his words. Instead, you fall forward, your body turning limp as you lose all semblance of your sanity as you revel in the waves of rapture that rocket through you. “Oh fuck. I’m cumming,” comes his strained groan.

Underlying ripples of pain begin fluttering through you as Jimin continues surging his cock in and out of your erratically contracting entrance; his fingers still mercilessly toying with your pulsating clit. Overstimulation gripping at you, “Please,” you weep.

Pace faltering, the hand playing with your clit moves to wind around your waist, and Jimin pulls you flush against his chest. Burying his cock as deep into your silken depths as he can, his thick shaft drives through your blissfully beaten cunt and you feel his blunt cockhead ram against the soft walls of your cervix. Instantaneously, your toes curl in pleasure, and your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Tears streaming down your cheeks, you let out a shuddering wail as your walls clamp down around him - almost painfully.

Without warning, Jimin’s pulsating cock swells inside of you, and with a deep roar, he begins cumming. Spurt after spurt of hot cum spills deep inside of your inner walls; Jimin painting your inner walls white with his essence. His cum is thick, and incredibly warm, and as you come down from your elated high, you relish in the feel of it flooding your stomach. Slowly, his cock turns flaccid, and you whine when the bulging thickness begins shrinking inside of you. Once he’s fully spent, he slowly begins pulling out of you.

The movement causes you to flinch, your raw cunt spasming with overstimulation as you feel his cock drag out of you. As soon as his cockhead pops out of your entrance, Jimin runs his nose against the back of your shoulder, and pressing a kiss to it, “Open your eyes and look at your cunt, Sweetheart,” he orders. Sluggishly, your eyes slip open before you lower your gaze to the juncture of your thighs.

Breath hitching in your throat, your eyes dilate at the sight. The previously taut muscles of your entrance are slightly parted open; the ringed flesh intermittently clamping around nothing. Thick trails of his gooey cum run out of your cunt and down onto the floor. Jimin’s teeth suddenly graze against your shoulder and, “See that? See how that tight little hole gapes? How you leak my cum? Such a pretty, ruined, cum-filled cunt,” he taunts.

Lazily, the hand on your clit dips further down your folds and towards your open entrance. A whine emanates from the back of your throat as you both watch, and feel, him press two fingers into you, the digits easily slipping into your battered entrance as he plays with his cum. Flinching at the intrusion, you weakly bat at his hand, an inarticulate sound of protest slipping from your mouth. Chuckling, Jimin pulls his hand away, and wiping his cum across your folds, he kisses the back of your neck.

Carefully, he brings your propped up leg back down, and you flinch at the stiffness in your muscles. So consumed by pleasure, you hadn’t even noticed the muscles begin to turn sore. The moment your knee is back down on the floor, your body slumps. In fact, you’re sure the only reason you don’t fall to the ground is thanks to Jimin’s body propping you up. Jimin lets out another throaty laugh, and wrapping his arms around your body, he pulls you flush against his chest.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and despite the concern in his voice, you can’t help but notice the faintest inkling of amusement.

For a moment, you simply heave for air - in an attempt to satisfy the burn in your throat - and once you’ve caught your breath, you nod. Swallowing thickly, you lubricate the dry muscles of your throat, and, “G-Good,” you verbalise. Another chuckle resounds through the air.

“Are you sure? It doesn’t look like you are,” he teases. Lips curling into a slight pout, you meekly smack his thigh. Though, still weakened from your orgasm, you’re sure he barely feels it.

“You’d be like this too if you’d been fucked as hard as I was,” comes your response, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“You’ve got me there,” Jimin responds with a laugh. “Are you even going to be able to make it back to the dorms?” he asks, a teasing smile on his face.

You pause hearing his words. Then, pulling your lower lip between your teeth, “Oh… we can sleep here… if you want,” you whisper, your eyes dropping to stare at the floor.

Jimin raises an eyebrow at your sudden timidness, and for a moment, he can’t help but think how cute you are. Really, he’d just fucked you to kingdom come, and yet here you were, getting all embarrassed with asking him to share a bed with you. Nonetheless, he ignores your shyness. Instead, “There’s no bed here,” he deadpans.

Suddenly perking up, “Oh! This is the Room of Requirement. We can just ask for a bed. See,” you respond, gesturing your head to the side of the room. Tilting his head, Jimin watches in surprise as a bed suddenly materialises out of nothing. For a moment, he wants to question it, however, after a few short seconds, he simply brushes it off.

Instead, his arms tighten around your body, and carefully, using all his strength, he picks you up. He carries your limp body towards the bed, and with each step, you find your heart beating faster and faster. Eyes transfixed onto his face, you chew on your lip once again. His flesh is covered in a thin coating of perspiration, and the ends of his dark-pine locks are soaked with sweat. Still, however, he looks beautiful: his skin glistening under the low lighting of the room.

Getting to the bed, you feel Jimin lower your naked body onto the mattress. The instant you feel the heavy weight of the cotton sheets, your spine shudders. Not wasting a single moment, you quickly shuffle your body under the covers, your shoulders relaxing when your bare figure is once again hidden. Beside the bed, Jimin strips down to his boxers. Deft fingers undo the buttons of his white oxford, and once all are unfasted, you watch as he peels the sweat-soaked material off of his body, his toned muscles rippling under taut, honey-kissed skin.

Once his shirt is off, Jimin swiftly shimmies out of his slacks - the fabric pooling around his ankles. Unable to tear your eyes from him, you watch as he steps out of the article, his thick thighs bulging within the confines of his boxers. Which, speaking of, once again hides his cock. You have no idea when he’d tucked it away, but you can’t help but feel disappointed. Nonetheless, your displeasure doesn’t last long, because the moment he’s done stripping, Jimin walks to the other side of the bed, and crawls into the covers beside you.

Feeling the bed dip with his weight, you turn to him, and nervously smile at him. Jimin easily notices your bashfulness and freezing for a moment, he looks at you in concern. “If it’s too awkward to share a bed, we don’t have to,” he says. Quickly, you shake your head.

“No! It’s not that… it’s just… this is the first time I’ve shared a bed with someone,” you mumble out, your head ducking under the covers in embarrassment. A deep-bellied laugh resonates through the air, and you feel Jimin tug the covers down.

Squealing at the sudden movement, you attempt to hide once again. However, Jimin’s arms swiftly wrap around your bare waist, and in one smooth motion, he pulls you into his embrace. “I’ve already taken your first time. It’s only right that I take this first time too, then,” he jokes. Despite the lighthearted tone to his voice, you find your chest tightening.

The feel of Jimin’s warm skin pressing against your back has your shyness quickly fading, and instead, your body melts into his. Head pressed to his bare chest, you hear the steady beat of his heart. The rhythmic pulsing soothes your nerves, and involuntarily, a soft smile curls onto your lips. Thoughtlessly, you snuggle further into him, and reflexively, Jimin’s arm tightens around your waist; allowing you to search for a comfortable position. Once you find it, you still, before revelling in the tenderness of your actions.

Silence befalls the room, and for long, drawn out moments, you simply relish in them. That is, until you really process the intimacy of it all. In your current position, your naked chest is flush against Jimin’s, the soft swells of your breasts pressing against his own, muscular ones. One of Jimin’s hands lazily traces shapes onto the flesh of your hips, the other tucked under the pillow. Your face presses into the crook of his shoulder, the deep notes of sandalwood and bergamot intertwining with Jimin’s own natural scent.

Stiffening in his arms once again, butterflies flurry through your stomach. You’re not stupid. You know that realistically, just sleeping with each other, doesn’t mean that you’re together. If that was the case, Jimin was probably dating every single apprentice, not to mention a few mastership students, in Hogwarts. No, you have no real fantasies that this means anything to Jimin. And yet, as he holds you in his arms, you can’t help but let your mind wander.

Sensing your nervousness, Jimin flexes his arms. He bends his head, and brushes plump lips against your forehead. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice deep, and baritone.

“Nothing,” you quickly respond. Jimin simply lets out a deep exhale of amusement.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” he replies. Then, nudging your head with his nose, “Go on, tell me what’s on your mind,” he urges. Sucking in a sharp breath, you contemplate his words. For a few moments, you simply deliberate on whether or not you should say it. Or well really, ask him. You have no idea how he’ll react, and you know there’s a good chance he’ll simply laugh and wave you off. Nevertheless, this could be your only chance.

So, taking a deep, steadying breath, you gather all your courage, and, “Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?” you ask. The words rush out of your mouth in one single breath, and pulling away, Jimin regards you in surprise.

“Like… a date?” he clarifies, and bashfully, you nod your head. He doesn’t answer straight away. Instead, he simply watches you carefully, his features carefully passive. With each second that passes, you feel your courage and hope dwindle; mortification once again settling in your bones. Then, to your utter surprise, Jimin speaks.

“Sure,” he agrees. Eyes widening, your face shoots up as you gawk at him.

“Wait, really?” you stupidly ask. At your question, Jimin snorts.

“What? Did you not really want to go?” he asks, and despite the evident playfulness of his voice, you quickly shake your head.

“N-No. I just… didn’t expect you to agree,” you reply lamely. Jimin nods.

“Well, if I’m being honest, I’ve never really thought about it. Or you… like that,” he begins, and swiftly, you find yourself deflating. Sensing your upset, Jimin bends his head down and presses a kiss to your shoulder, “But, that was only because I didn’t really think we would be compatible… but after tonight… you’ve definitely piqued my interest, _____,” he continues.

Hope blooms through you once again, and against your will, you find a smile curling onto your lips, “Really?” you ask. Hearing the happy inflexion to your voice, Jimin can’t help but chuckle.

“Yes, really,” he replies. Then, a grinning wolfishly, he teasing grazes his teeth against your shoulder before biting down softly. The action causes you to gasp, and Jimin lets out a low growl. “Besides, I can’t wait to learn what else you saw in the mirror.” Instantly, your cheeks flush, and you let out a little whine.

“Stop teasing me,” you grumble.

Humming, “Nope,” Jimin replies, popping the ‘p’. “You’re too cute when you’re embarrassed for me to do that,” he explains.

You let out a little huff, and open your mouth to retort. Only to pause. Suddenly, a thought crosses your mind, and responsively, your eyebrows knit together. Curious as to what the mirror showed him, “What did you see?” you ask. A wicked smile curls onto Jimin’s face, his dark-pine hair hanging loosely in the air as he grins at you.

“Nothing,” comes his simple answer. Eyebrows creasing in confusion, you look at him in scepticism.

“Nothing?” you repeat, disbelief clearly laced in your voice. Jimin only hums in response. Bending his head down, he brushes his voluptuous lips against yours.

“The mirror shows you what your heart desires most. And in that moment, I had exactly what I desired,” comes his simple response. Instantaneously, a warm fuzziness flurries through your stomach; but as soon as it comes, it goes. Because, the next moment, Jimin is pulling you in for a deep kiss.

a/n: i hope y’all jimin fans are well fed, i know i’ve been starving y’all sjfjsjjfjdf anyway. this was super hard to write because i don’t see jimin sexually nor romantically so i struggled with it A LOT but 😭i hope i did it justice 😭 please don’t forget to lmk what you thought 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

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[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

1. To add to your collection of RS's old tumblr ask screenshots (LO canvas league era), i distinctly remember there was an ask where someone asked why is mortal realm so behind olympus technology-wise and RS responded something along the lines of technology timelines not being aligned "because the gods don't wanna share the goodies" (the quotations are her exact words, to be precise) and it was kind of an early red flag for me? I mean, the greek myths are all about gods helping humans and giving them the means to survive or about explaining natural phenomena that benefits humans whether it's prometheus with introducing fire or athena and hephaestus spreading the knowledge of crafts among humans or even ares and poseidon making way for the first court trial in greece on areopagus. You don't get the permission to "deconstruct" the myths if you don't even know what they are initially about

2. What makes me tick is RS makes everything up instead of working with mythology (first thing she'd have to do is to...ummm, know mythology but oh well). She seems to see original mythology as something limiting to her creativity instead of something that unlocks more possibilities for more interesting storytelling. If someone wants concrete examples, let's say persephone's half-bothers plutus and philomelus who'd make an interesting dynamic of maybe two protective/concerned older or younger bros (it'd lessen the portrayal of demeter's "bad" parenting) and she'd have a support system of two guys who don't have the motive to get in her pants, unlike , ykno, the rest of the male cast.  Also it'd even out the playfield between Perse and Hades finance and power-wise as Plutus is a god of wealth and Perse,aside from being a heiress, can also turn to her brother for financial help instead of being reliant on Hades all the damn time. Intead RS put Arion just for some lame joke of persephone having a horse brother and is stripped away from any familial connections (male or female) she has in myth so she'd fit in Hades's waifu mold with no risk of going sweet home alabama that myth implies so much

3. the fact persephone is barely over the age of 18 doesn't help when there's so much panels and art of her where's she's literally just naked. if she was 300 or smth we could at least know we are likely not looking at a naked underage girl, but instead it's like??? you're just praying youre not?? especially when she's around grown adults like hermes and hades?? rachel please i dont want to be put on a list -

4. i feel so bad for RS' partner because apparently hermes is based off them (and everyone knows persephone is her self insert) yet in comic hermes' whole purpose is to simp for a woman who literally doesnt like him and being a walking joke. like idk id be so offended my partner sees me like that?? like damn i cant even be with you in your fantasy?? you rather run off with blue mads mikklesen if given the chance?? anyway poor hermes and that kiwi i appreciate you 😭

5. I can’t take Persephone serious as a protagonist she failed to grow as a character in her own. She can’t do anything without Hades she didn’t fight back against Apollo, she failed to tell Zeus the truth, and hen warrant for her arrest was made she didn’t think about her mother at all being in danger! And her punishment was basically doing her job and growing her powers…?

6. "the art is subjective!" well i wish i wasnt subjected to it 🤔

7. I know this whole comic is full of un-self reflective hypocrisy, but are we really not supposed to find it stupid minthe is basically slut shamed for wearing a revealing dress around a child, but its perfectly fine for persephone to wear as revealing of clothing around the same child they're so concerned over? it's not even a cause of showing hades' hypocrisy, it's just straight forward "yep! minthe is evil no matter what but it's ok with persephone does the same thing!" like ???

8. There's something funny of LO fans trying to accuse Ava's Demon of ripping of LO as if it wasn't already published and popular in 2012, aka nearly SIX YEARS before LO even came out. Hell, it was HUGE on tumblr when RS was on it, there's no way she didn't know about it, and a lot of the LO characters seem awfully similar to Ava's Demon (Hades and Gils being a VERY obvious similarity). I'm not saying she did so, but if any sort of ripping off did happen, it would be from RS, not Michelle.

9. This is coming from someone who does have a huge age gap in their parents marriage(about 8 to 9 years apart) but the reason I don't see a problem with mine is that they both meet when they were MATURE ADULTS with jobs. Persephone cleary is not mature enough for Hades minus all the other problems with this relationship. 

10. LO fans hates Hadestown because tthey can't stand complexity, the cast and crew who love to shit on HxP, or the Persephone actresses who especially love to push a Hermes/Persephone supremacy agenda!!

[drabsyo]

I was wondering...I was always confused about Narcissa’s hair. It’s been a while since I read the books. Did she color it blonde to show her now belonging to House Malfoys. Or was it naturally blonde? Movies confused me a bit I guess.

Yes, this had me confused too! I've agonized and toiled over it, more than I probably should, about how I should draw her hair because people have generally different views, which is totally understandable! 💕

And I've always wanted to discuss it, so now that I've been given a reason to... Well.

If you take a look at some of my Narcissa fanart, you'll notice the different ways I'd color her hair. I was so confused. Is she a light blonde? Dark blonde? A mix of raven hair and blonde hair? If she has blonde hair then why does her family have (mostly) dark hair? And WHY does she have blue eyes?! This woman is absolutely confusing! (Which is kind of, you know, fitting because Narcissa always loves to be a mystery to literally anyone lol)

So I did my homework, asked around, and scoured every bit of information, canon or otherwise, that I could find about her. It led me to this:

In canon, this is what the Black sisters look like. You can find the page here. Narcissa is a child here, and already has blonde hair. So we can go ahead and safely assume that she was born with natural blonde hair. But in the films, Narcissa has black and blonde hair. I don't actually know why they gave her that hair color, maybe so that the audiences wouldn't question her blood relations with the Blacks--I don't know. I really don't. But now we have a book version Narcissa, one who has full blonde hair. And a movie version Narcissa, one who has raven and blonde hair. At least, that's how the different hair colors started: a movie version, and a book version.

So... here's where it gets confusing.

To my knowledge, it isn't actually explained why her hair color is the way it is in both the movies and the books. Having blonde hair does raise many questions, how is she the "only" blonde in a family of dark hair and dark eyes? To top it all off, it gets even more confusing, because fanon writes and draws her either as a full blonde or a mix of raven and blonde hair. We just have this large pile to sift through of her having either hair color. No one actually explains anything. She's just... infuriatingly there. She's either blonde or raven haired and blonde. BUT fanfiction writers, as I've observed, give their own reasons why Narcissa's hair color is the way it is in their respective stories. And it's actually pretty creative and interesting! It adds even greater depth to her character, and it fits the narrative of the story even better. Remember, the character we're dealing with is Narcissa Black. One of her main traits is "she won't do anything unless there is a clear purpose behind it." This character is deliberate, meticulous, and she makes sure to plan ahead at all times. And so, some fanfiction writers decide to play on that.

You can skip this part if you want to avoid spoilers but I've compiled a small list of instances in (Cissamione) fanfiction where Narcissa's hair is mentioned.

🔹 In Extinction by rubikanon in Chapter 10: Build and Break, Hermione asks Narcissa about it. Here, Narcissa has black and blonde hair. She explains that she only decided to dye it blonde to "fit in with the Malfoys." We can gather two things from that alone, which resonates with her character perfectly: 1.) Narcissa is loyal and 2.) Narcissa purposefully wants to show the rest of the world how loyal she is by committing to having blonde hair. The woman has some serious commitment, and it shows. But now, the way that it's slowly growing back into her natural black hair color, hints that perhaps Narcissa no longer wishes to fit in with the Malfoys. However, if we take an even closer look, we can safely assume that Narcissa isn't the kind of person to just leave her hair color "unattended" like that. Remember, she's meticulous. And this is a big deal for her, the fact that she's just kind of letting it grow back instead of either fully dyeing it back to black, or dyeing it back to blonde. It suggests that perhaps she's a little unsure this time, perhaps it is her uncertainty that is the reason why it's now a mix of both. Another grey area? Or maybe it's actually something more deliberate? Maybe now, she likes that it's a mix of both. That other half now being solely for Draco, and not to fit in (completely) with the Malfoys any longer. Who knows why Narcissa does things the way she does? We can speculate to the ends of the earth, or be as smart as Hermione Granger (or with the case of Extinction, see Hermione's thoughts), but something tells me we'd still be a good step behind.

"Which one is your natural hair color?" I wondered aloud.

(Narcissa) She glanced up at the unexpected question. I was relieved she hadn't sensed my attention yet. It's not like I meant anything by it, I told myself. She was so beautiful, one couldn't help but notice. And feel physically drawn to her. And want to see her two-toned hair fanned across her back, slipping over the bare skin, silky beneath my fingers...

"Why do you ask?" Her query brought me back to reality, and I hurriedly corrected my imagination to include a pretty dress covering the rest of her.

"I don't know." I chewed the inside of my cheek, suppressing my other thoughts. "I'm just curious."

Her gaze returned to the fire. "You've seen enough of my relatives to guess which color is genetic. The blond is something I added to fit in with the Malfoys, after Draco was born." She was quiet for a moment. "He looks so much like his father. I suppose I wanted to share some resemblance."

🔹 In Killing Me Softly by Looktotheedges in Chapter 4: Nagging, Hermione suggests that perhaps Narcissa is part Veela because of her blonde hair and very attractive features, like Fleur. Which is this whole other theory/plot that's very interesting, but won't be discussed in this post. Narcissa tells Hermione that Sirius has always been blonde, and that it isn't out of the question for her to be blonde either. Sirius Black. A blonde. I know! Maybe it's there because it's funny that Sirius is actually blonde like Narcissa. Prissy, haughty, lady-like Narcissa. Arguably the 'girliest' cousin that he has. No, no, no. He doesn't want to be anything like Narcissa. Anyway, if that's the reason, I think that's hilarious and cute.

Narcissa turns away. 'I am aware my appearance is frightfully drab. Work has been…'

Hermione holds back a disbelieving scoff. 'Narcissa. You always look beautiful. And you’re talking to the witch with grass in her hair who practically lives in her office all week.'

Narcissa just leans further over the crib. 'A blonde little boy. It has been so long since… I can almost imagine…'

Hermione stands next to her. Looks down at the peacefully sleeping Louis. He does look remarkably like Draco. 'Are you sure there’s no Veela blood in you? You weren’t secretly switched at birth?'

'Like a changeling?'

'It would explain your blonde hair.'

'Sirius was also blonde, it is not completely out of the question for us Blacks.'

What?!

(...) 'I know. But it is the truth. He was blond until he was about seven… then it began to darken. Mousy. Dull. He wanted to look cool and brooding instead, so he got his hands on some kind of charm right before he set off for Hogwarts. A new, edgy Sirius. It was around then he forbade us from calling him Siri. Said it sounded too girly.'

🔹 In Fixed in Time by TheWorldsaBeastofBurden in Chapter 9: Sisters and Saviors, it's also tackled a little humorously. Andromeda let's a little comment slip while they're in the middle of trying to heal Hermione. Something funny, something that suggests Andromeda and Bella, when they were children, have always wondered why Narcissa is blonde unlike them.

The first words spoken occurred after they’d risen and attempted their casting. Andromeda’s preparedness to take on their task had been clear in her mind so Narcissa rose with her sister, wrapped an arm around her waist and held her near as the woman raised her wand to draw up the rest of the injury she’d dropped, half a slash across Hermione’s hip bone…

That remained half, as Andromeda growled out, “...it isn’t working.” she looked to Narcissa, “Why aren’t you powering me?”

What nonsense? “I am!” she insisted. She was! Or “I- I am trying to!” Her magic was active and alive, pulsing to rise from her skin and transfer into Andromeda’s but it- it wasn’t working! “Could...could it be that you were disowned?”

“Disowning doesn’t take away the fact that we share blood, our magic is directly related. Ugh, Bella always said you were adopted!”

“Oh ha- oh.”

“...oh?” Andromeda returned.

“...it’s not an issue of power. It is what I intend to aid in casting,” Narcissa slowly worked out. Oh, it was most blessed Mister Goyle could be brought to assist the present Hermione. If her present self had been brought to aid Andromeda? “...I cannot harm Hermione.”

Andromeda sighed with some frustration. “I understand you are so tenderly in love-”

“It isn’t- I’m avowed! I- when we arrived from the future we had to escape Malfoy Manor, I couldn’t bring Hermione through the wards without...I couldn’t add her directly, that would be visible. I had to...attach her permission to mine.”

🔹 In Glass Silence by Zarrene Moss (Menzosarres), which probably gives one of the most interesting backstories for Narcissa's hair, for why it's blonde. I can't put a clip of the scene here without hogging up a huge chunk of space on your dash, so I'll try to explain it as best I can instead.

Understand that these come with serious 🛑spoilers🛑 so please do read it at your own risk.

In Glass Silence, Narcissa's hair and eye color was black at birth. But after an accident with raw magic, something Bellatrix wasn't able to control when they were children, Narcissa almost dies. Bellatrix, using even more raw magic, tries desperately to pull Narcissa's "life force" back, but at the cost of losing the eumelanin that made Narcissa's eyes and hair black. Narcissa survived, but now has very little eumelanin left, which is why she's so pale, blonde, and has blue eyes. Every time Narcissa looks at a mirror, her reflection is a reminder of the day she almost died. Bella, on the other hand, is reminded of that day every single time she looks at Narcissa.

So! These are only a few fanfictions I could think of at the top of my head that tackles the issue of Narcissa's hair. In the books, to my knowledge, she is described as having blonde hair and very pale skin.

But let's take another deep dive, if you're up for it.

These are mostly theories, which are largely unconfirmed, but I think they're interesting to think about.

There's this description in the wiki:

"Narcissa Malfoy is described as tall, slim, "nice looking", and very pale, with blue eyes, long blonde hair, and a clear, cold voice. Her hair colouring thus differs from most of the House of Black, who generally have dark hair, though Narcissa does possess the arrogant good looks characteristic of her family."

There's also this pinterest photo of the Black sisters being compared to each other side by side, descriptively and physically. I'm so sorry, I don't know who drew it, but here's a link to the post on pinterest.

"Narcissa threw back her hood. She was so pale she seemed to shine in the darkness... long blonde hair streaming down her back."

Which is interesting because this hints that she's... different. It's a bit literal in this sense--she comes from a pureblood family, arguably the most influential and notorious one, the Blacks, who mostly have dark hair and eyes, and yet her physical appearance directly contrast that. There's also the matter of her namesake. She's the only Black to be named after a flower instead of a galaxy or a star. We aren't really given any explanation why she's the only one who's different. Even Sirius, who fought and died for the side of the Light, is named after the brightest star in the sky. Even Andromeda. It's been said that this is actually meant to be a parallel of some sort to Lily Evans. Narcissa and Lily are both named after flowers, even Petunia (Lily's sister). And I know there's this thing where it's a tie up to how Harry was ultimately saved by a mother's love: Harry lived at the beginning because of his mother's love, and Harry lives once again at the end of the books because Narcissa, a mother who wanted to save her own son, saved him.

If you read that scene in the books where Harry is saved by Narcissa, the whole scene is actually... pretty soft? There's that sort of disarming softness about Narcissa in that moment, where Harry expected to be callously dragged and prodded for a heartbeat. Instead, he gets a surprisingly gentle touch, a curtain of long blonde hair shielding him from the darkness, and the kind of tenderness he wouldn't expect from his enemies, "Is Draco alive?"

It's almost like Narcissa's appearance is something of a "tell". With Andromeda, she's described to have kind eyes, open, unguarded. She inherited her family's dark eyes and dark hair, and she even looks like Bellatrix's twin. I suppose we could say, Andromeda wants to fight that in any way she can by being openly kind. Narcissa is quite literally the opposite--guarded eyes, stoic expressions, cool and calculated emotions. We're veering into this fine line between fanon and canon in terms of their characterization (but only due to lack of canon materials) but personally, I think Narcissa having blonde hair and blue eyes is somewhat more fitting for her character. Again, this line:

"Narcissa threw back her hood. She was so pale she seemed to shine in the darkness... long blonde hair streaming down her back."

It's like that one glaringly obvious hint that everyone overlooks simply because... because it's the most obvious one. "Me! I'm different! I'm the last person you'd expect, but it really is me!"

Anyway. I've rambled on long enough. Hope this clears up some of that confusion, anon. Hoping it didn't ADD even more confusion... 😂 At the end of the day, this is just me speculating, gushing, and being One Big Fool™. So.

But either way, blonde hair, dark hair, mix of both, I adore her. Pretty much.

[fluffydice]

Uh not to take over your post but I have. Thoughts!! I would like to share with the class,,,sorryhopeyoudon'tmindbutyouusuallydon'tso

I'll be honest, yeah, a lot of it can be attributed to the fact that people are just. Really insistent on making a GAY relationship rather than. A romantic relationship between two boys. But it's super fucking prevalent with Kubokai, and I don't think it's just because of Aren being who he is. It's also because Shun can seemingly be so easily be molded to fit that seme x uke shit.

Part of the thing I struggle with writing Shun is, obviously, he isn't as near and dear to my heart as Aren or Kusuo are. But it goes a bit beyond that. Shun, as a character, is very different from these two. Aren and Kusuo play a very different role in the narrative than Shun does. It's part of why I think Aren and Shun are such good friends—they're almost complete opposites, sans ideals and/or core moral beliefs. But Shun, by himself, rides a line that I think a lot of people—particularly novice writers or people without as much experience in hyperspecific character analysis (cough cough neurodiverse people)—struggle with. He's a well-developed character without being too complex.

Of course, this is an overstatement: Shun is complex in certain ways. The biggest one is his cowardice, while still being one of the bravest mofos in the show. It's his problems that don't have much complexity, and it all comes back to the fact that Shun at the end of the day is just a high school kid. The fact that Shun is never really thrust into actually high-stakes situations (and likely the fact that we are watching this from Kusuo's point of view, who thinks Shun is pathetic /affectionate), we don't see as much implication into the depth of his character, unlike Aren, Kusuo, or even Kokomi—characters who, yes, while high school kids, are also a lot more than that.

It is,,,hard to write a character who is. Normal. And that sounds crazy but it's true: especially for writers used to writing big, flashy things, dramatic problems, characters with evident depth. Shun is normal, but he is also a character deserving of the depth he has. It won't be someone like Kusuo, who is so obviously traumatized, or like Aren, who is,,,also so obviously traumatized. Shun grew up in a upper-middle class suburban area. His biggest issues aren't gang wars or fighting giant cat tanks—it's getting through high school, trying to fit in, trying to make his mom happy.

I think people exaggerate Shun's traits so,,,grotesquely,,,because it's so easy to do that to him. It's very easy to look at his friendship with Aren and say "this is the most interesting thing about him" and design him in a way to fulfil whatever weird, oddly fetishy and heteronormative idea of what a MLM relationship should be. And the reason this is so easy to do is because Shun's more obvious traits (his anxiety being a big one, his relationship with his mom being another) seem to always paint him as this little baby that needs to be sheltered. But the truth is, Shun would fucking hate being seen that way.

Shun is a major fucking asshole. Like obviously he's a good guy, but come on. He's a dick, just like the rest of the cast. It's hard to find the line of complexity with Shun, and even harder to find when he would draw the line. When does he stop being flustered and red and begins lashing out? When does he stop being the Jet Black Wings and starts being serious? When is he being a crybaby and will get over it within the hour, and when will something seriously leave an impact on him? Shun is all about finding those lines, about bridging the gap between his cowardice and his bravery. When people woobify him for Kubokai, they keep his more sensitive aspects and pave over that line until the other side of himself is erased.

ive come to realise that i dont actually hate kubokai, i just hate the way people write them

[jjraderftw]

The first few episodes of A Place Further than the Universe set up a truly captivating and heartwarming story of finding your purpose in life and living your life to the fullest. The four main characters (Shirase, Hinata, Yuzuki, and Mari) are all struggling with something, either physically or emotionally, and want something more out of their lives. It’s when they all come together for a common goal that they start to realize what they have been searching for all along. The anime’s overall story follows Shirase and her dream of finding her mother in Antarctica. Her goal seems outlandish but it catches the interest of Mari who encourages her to go and ignore the onslaught of ridicule. Fueled by her new friend, the two prepare to somehow find a way to make it to their destination and end up meeting and recruiting two other people for their expedition to the frigid world. The first episodes establish the individual girls and what makes them tick. I love this form of expedition because it gives perspective as to why any of them would want to go on this seemingly outlandish journey. This story also has an overarching theme of self discovery and personal completion which is highlighted in each girl’s personality. They may each seem alone and unfulfilled together but become complete and happy once they all meet and share a dream.

Mari is the first main character we’re introduced to. She is in her second year of high school and wishes to do something meaningful in her life; she wants to go on an adventure. However, her massive doubt and fear prevents her from doing anything daring. She wants to live out her childhood fantasy of exploration. I see her as representing the sense of adventure and crusade for purpose that all kids go through growing up. As it may have been for others, I always wanted to do something that would give my life purpose as a kid. I felt as if I had to enjoy my youth and make the most out of it before my free time runs out. However, the fear of the real world, lack of money, and lack of direction made me question what I’d even do. This is very much the case with Mari. She wants to live her life to the fullest and do something unforgettable to find fulfillment.

Shirase is the girl with the plan! She has her heart set on going to Anatartica but is not too sure on how to go about it, implying that she thinks more in the moment rather than planning out decisions. Despite her lack of a concrete plan, she busts her bottom working as many jobs as possible to round up as much money to afford the expenditures necessary for the trip. She doesn’t have many friends and is often ridiculed by everyone around her because they believe her plan is crazy. I believe she represents determination and being headstrong. Her will is second to none and will do anything to achieve her dream. Her social anxiety and lack of forward thinking are her downsides, but they are remedied by her friends who encourage her and help rationalize decisions.

Hinata to me is sort of like the voice of reason. She is a confident, outgoing, and sassy girl who goes with the flow. Unlike the rest of the cast, she doesn’t go to school but somehow seems to stay very knowledgeable and informed. She loves proving to others that she could do what others think is impossible and is working for her own vision of fun. Furthermore, she always seems to have something to say when the rest of the group says something illogical or silly. Like Mari, she wants to do something fun and crazy with her time as a teenager. I relate the most with Hinata. I adore her character. Anyone with a sassy, condescending personality always gets 10/10 points in my book. I see her as the confidence and pride most people have. The want to show off is common with people growing up and her extroverted personality really resonated with me.

Last but not least is Yuzuki. This celebrity struggles with maintaining valuable friendship and unlike the rest of the group, was the only one that had a ticket to Antarctica. She has had her life managed by her mom and has never really been able to do anything for herself, let alone make true life companions. This one hits home for a lot of viewers because of the childhood mentality of craving independence. It’s common to feel like you live in your parents' world, not your own and Yuzuki embodies that. Her desire for proper friends is real because it can often feel like the people you grew up with, including your family, never truly understood you. She symbolizes the want to break free.

Overall I think the first few episodes were splendid. I believe that the girls all make up one complete person by working off each other’s strengths and weaknesses. I would highly recommend this as it's a great watch.

[tobyjamessharp]

Hey, I was curious about how you/ your dm run the werewolf stuff mechanically and if there was somewhere I could find it or if it was completely homebrew. I have a player in a campaign i'm working on who's character is in a similar position and I really like what i've seen of it from your game! If y'all can't or don't wanna share that's totally cool, I'm just curious!

Most of it is home brewed by my DM and I, specifically because I face the fun challenge of being a werewolf in a campaign setting with 2 moons that have 2 different schedules. And we’re both DMs so we like to home brew lmao.

Because we didn’t want it being the “uh oh Connor’s a werewolf again” show with a moon being full fairly frequently, we decided to only have Connor be at risk of a full transformation if both moons are full at the same time. However!! Full moons still affect him, just not to the same extent as two full moons. Everytime one is full I have a table to roll a side effect off of and I gotta deal with whatever happens for the duration.

The larger moon causes physical changes with mechanic pros and cons. So for instance I could roll to have my canine teeth grow out significantly for the duration of the full moon. I automatically get a +4 to attacks made with my teeth, but I also absentmindedly drool and have issues in Charisma based settings.

The smaller moon which is full more often gives him mental/behavioral changes, so he becomes more impulsive and quick to anger, etc. These conditions don’t have pros or cons unlike the physical, because we liked that idea that Connor still has some control over his mental facilities, it’s just a lot harder for him to stay in control. So I would have a condition to be met, and a punishment if I don’t complete it within the full moon. For instance one condition would be that I am compelled to stare uninterrupted at the moon for an hour every night during rest and have to start the hour again if someone/something distracts me. If I don’t do that I basically take a level of exhaustion. It’s a fun little double edged sword and opens up some really fun roleplay opportunities for me to decide if I do the condition or just take the consequence. Our recent session I had a full moon and rolled to become HIGHLY paranoid about a new party member and convinced they were intending me harm. Basically I was compelled to. Harm said character. So during combat it was an added little layer to my planning to consider “how and where can I cast spells that will put him in danger while looking like I am intending to attack the main enemy.” Also no one else at the table gets to know about my conditions so that’s. My fun little secret lmaO

I myself came up with his current recipe for wolfsbane to give to my dm, and I can drink a wolfsbane potion to attempt to stop a side effect/ full transformation from happening, but it’s established that wolfsbane isn’t a well known recipe in our campaign world, and it’s a very tricky potion to make with the intended effect. Because of this I have to keep track of potion supplies, and have an hour or so of in game time to brew, while also rolling multiple skill checks and a final flat roll to see if my potion works. (Rolled a nat 1 on the final roll last time and like. Fully poisoned myself to the point he collapsed and started convulsing. straight up ended up in “an office of necromancy” so I’m not entirely convinced that I didn’t kick the bucket and had to get rezzed.)

For any combat as a werewolf, right now I’m just working off of a basic monster stat block, especially since we’re early in and I haven’t had a full transformation yet. But I have plans to maybe go down the path of him leaning into his werewolf side in an attempt to control transformations and do them at will like the monster manual mentions! But that’s a while away for sure, so I’m sure my DM and I will hammer that out more once that becomes more relevant.