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alessiamalfoyzabini · 1 month ago

Text

Moondir - 02

Pairing | moondir!OT7 x human!Reader

Word Count | 4,6k

Warnings | +18, blood draw, talk about forced pregnancy, mention of multiple partners, noncon kiss, angst, fear and psychological pressure, a strange bond MC feels with Hoseok (predator/prey relationship), this is not for minors.

This fanfiction is dark and yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | The Moondir, born of the Moon Goddess' love for a wolf, were persecuted and enslaved by humans for merely existing. Moondirian women have been captured and killed in the most heinous ways, men have instead been forced to do dangerous work in place of the humans themselves, and after more than a century, this has virtually brought their race to the brink of extinction. A group of Moondirian rebels have succeeded in their quest to regain their freedom, and not without the use of the crudest violence. Their females are now gone, and it will be human women who will help them repopulate the world.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! ❤️ Here is the second chapter of Moondir, I hope you enjoy it! 🥰 I put my whole self into writing this chapter, imagining and structuring the future relationships between MC and the seven, here you have a little taste of it with Hoseok! Let me know what you think, I love your comments! 🥰🥰🥰🥰 I love you 💜

Taglist is open: @katherine-kookie - @btsuga-d - @pantara - @angelicsmilesworld - @lennieharper - @takemeaway5402 - @jiminismine4ever - @m00njinnie - @ke1k029 - @velvet-stardust2002 - @darkuni63 - @douknowbts - @aiiselle90210 - @fewercascade - @mageprincess7 - @get-that-brain-working - @whipwhoops - @dragons-flare - @seokjins-luigi - @pjmsneverland - @jimincrystal - @ajkwww - @ungodlyjoon - @hecateslittlewitchling - @namjoonsbuspass - @xicanacorpse - @btssimplove - @antisocial-mochi267 - @reallygenerouskoala - @dabishou - @themwordsblog - @deluluisme - @justanarchiveforfics - @blackberrywonie - @the-holy-hobi - @justlikecrazy - @herareila - @furioustrashlover - @mar-lo-pap - @dachshunddame - @pantaral81 - @withmuchluv-tannie - @calmyourtitts7 - @plushjeno - @rafesbunniebby - @rms-expensive-girl - @polnaraffsrack - @rg2108 - @paramedicnerd004 - @jungshaking - @ane102 - @moonstarw

Main List - 01 - 02 - 03

You gaze in clear amazement at the procreation center, the city's most modern hospital has been used as a base, you have never had the privilege of stepping foot in it in the past, and to think that you will enter it now because you are forced to does upset you in no small measure.

Hoseok, at your side, holds you in a firm, icy grip, looks ahead, and the grin of a few hours earlier has disappeared from his face. The green gem of his eyes has been swallowed by a dark shadow, and no one dares to approach you or him. Everyone in there seems to keep away, all armed men and all very guarded, just peering at you as if you were a juicy steak. You and Hoseok walk past the marbled lobby to enter the medical area without first asking a secretary. Simply because - just like in Seokjin's hospital - there are no secretaries. And frankly, Hoseok also seems all too sure; this is certainly not the first time he has walked the corridors of this huge hospital.

“Is this something you do often? Bring women here, I mean?” you ask in a low voice, narrowly catching his attention.

“Mh. Let's just say that thanks to my rank I can afford to do that, if I had been an ordinary soldier, those guys out there probably would have jumped on you without much fuss,” he snorts, annoyed.

You don't dare ask any more; it's clear as day that if he could, this man would join the party along with the others.

The further you go into the hospital, the more the cold architectural lines make your hair stand on end, as do the men in suits you see darting from room to room with medical masks over their faces and long white lab coats fluttering here and there. Not a shadow of a woman so far, could it be that humans have really exterminated all Moondirians women? Is there not a single one left?

A door opens in front of you automatically and a pungent smell of disinfectant makes your nose wrinkle. You are tired of disinfectant and hospitals. Will you be forced to stay there? And for how long?

“Just come in quietly, little flower,” Hoseok points you to a smaller, powder-pink door, ‘I've had enough of women screaming and crying at the sight of a tiny needle; so, don't piss me off,’ he intimates dangerously, opening the door and pushing you in unceremoniously, as he is used to doing such things by now.

Inside, it is just like Kim Seokjin's studio, the only difference being the lack of a table with stirrups, replaced instead by a long, shiny, clean, white table with a sealed container of empty, shiny test tubes ready on top. The walls blind you with their whiteness; everything is tremendously aseptic and impersonal.

You are about to feel sick, and perhaps, just noticing your new, bad complexion, Hoseok pushes you abruptly toward the chair.

“You haven't even seen the needle yet,” he teases you, regaining some of the amusement he dared not show in front of other soldiers. In a way, Hoseok seems to have two completely different personalities, and you don't know which one scares you more.

The sadist who loves to have fun or the soldier who fears no one?

Either way, Hoseok seems to be in control of the whole situation.

“Oh, good. You brought a new one,” a well-placed man enters the room; he's as big as a closet, but his expression is softened by small round black glasses, his forest green eyes following you like a scanner.

“Seokjin gave me these,” Hoseok says, tossing papers on the doctor's desk about you and your exam, the big man nods before smiling at you a little.

“All right, dear, I'm Oliver Smith,” he introduces himself cordially, ”I'm the ugly wolf who's going to take samples of your blood.”

You look at him a little upset, why would a Moondirian approach you in such a kind way? Hoseok looks annoyed, too.

“Give it a rest, Olly,” he grumbles, but Oliver shakes his head.

“Don't mind Hoseok, he's the big bad wolf, but as long as I'm around he can only grumble.”

“I don't think I understand, what do you need my blood for?”

“Good question, girl,” nods Oliver, “Your blood will help us figure out which male you will be compatible with. We have a huge list of males suitable for mating, but you are human and clearly in order to sire a pup you will need the right male. A match, in short.”

You look at him wordlessly, you thought you were going to be thrown to all the soldiers in the breeding center, the image Yoongi gave you is this. Instead it all seems quite controlled.

“I guess I can't refuse,” you state grimly, Hoseok snorts through his nose in yet another irritating scowl. Oliver gives him a glare.

“No, you can't refuse, it's for the good of our species” Oliver checks the opening page of that pile of papers before turning back to look at you, “Y/N. But you must know that we have everything under control, no harm will come to you, unlike others-” and here you see him glowering at Hoseok again, “We understand that you girls didn't have much say about the events that happened a hundred years ago.”

You don't trust Oliver, even though he has been more helpful and kind than Hoseok, but you do nothing when he gently holds your arm to tighten a tourniquet around it, you shudder at the feel of alcohol-soaked gauze disinfecting your skin.

An invisible grip forces you to look for Hoseok; he is staring at you. His green eyes are lighter and mottled, like pure jade, but his expression betrays no emotion. He looks like a statue. You hardly notice the vials filling with your dark, vermilion blood as Dr. Oliver continues with the blood drawing.

You feel weaker and maybe even pale, your head is heavy and empty at the same time, shit, how you hate doctors and hospitals....

Oliver barely has time to remove your tourniquet to apply a band-aid before you slump into the chair, unconscious.

Oliver looks at you with pity, “She endured a lot in one day, she didn't even scream,” he notes with a certain amount of surprise, making Hoseok sneer.

“Don't be so impressed, she just did her duty, she knows her place,” he murmurs colorlessly, before approaching you. He lifts you from the chair without even an effort, and Oliver sighs.

“Set her up in one of the private rooms, we'll keep her monitored until the test results come back with the compatible male.”

You recover slightly, but you don't dare open your eyes again, fearing to anger Hoseok, who is holding you in his arms rather stiffly. The material of his uniform smells of cedar and sea, but it is rough enough that you are not tempted to rub against his chest to get some rest.

“I hope they get a move on in the lab, I can't wait to send her as far away from here as possible,” he blurts, you trying hard not to let them know you're awake, but you can't stop the trembling of your lips. So you won't stay at the procreation center, you'll be sent who knows where!

“What's the matter, Sergeant...is the girl making you nervous?” taunts Oliver with a smirk, Hoseok shushing him with a sour look.

“You said it right, I'm a Sergeant. Nothing and no one can make me nervous, got it?”

Your heart is beating so fast that even your chest is moving back and forth, trying to hold it in your rib cage, with that you are now certain that Hoseok has noticed you are awake, however, he does not say a word about it. He prefers to ignore you as he walks out through the blinding hallway. And you find it hard to admit that his grip on your body is so firm that you sense he will never let you fall. You can't even remember the last time someone carried you around like this, maybe your father when you were a child?

You bite your lip, chasing away that thought, your father is now dead, and for his and many others' actions you will pay with your womb for what they did to the wolves of Moondir.

Two days pass before anyone deigns to bring you news about your near future. Until then you have been monitored nonstop by two doctors with unfamiliar faces, in a room so sterile and empty it seems at times macabre, you feel like you are in a horror movie with the only difference being that you are really living in a nightmare.

You lower your gaze to the IV attached to your arm, you are not sick, but they said they want to make sure you are well hydrated and strong for what you will face out there, they are feeding your body with something necessary for your future sexual relations. You don't know what it is, and you admit that you cried like a little girl after Hoseok left you in this room, walking away without so much as a word, as if he was tired of looking after you. You never saw him or Seokjin again.

The only positive note is that you did not see Yoongi again either.

But you don't regret the times when you treated him like a human being when he still lived in your house. You never acted superior toward him, although that certainly didn't help you. You can't really believe that in the past you were like this-.

A soft knock on the door brings you back to reality, distracting you from your alarming thoughts - were you really thinking about that after all he did to you?

Oliver's blank expression makes you frown, usually he brings your daily results with a smile, now he looks strange.

“Hello, Y/N” he greets you, "How are you feeling today?" he asks every day.

“I'm fine, doctor,” you reply as usual, watching him nod with papers in his hands.

“We have the results of the first exam I submitted you to,” he clearly refers to the exam regarding the compatible male.

You knew this moment would come, but you can't help but clutch the white sheets between your fingers; you're not ready to leave that new as well as fragile daily routine. You still hate hospitals, but no one there has threatened you. What will happen when you leave? Will the male treat you well?

“Y/N” Oliver calls you back frowning, "I need you to listen to me very carefully, I hold your future in my hands," he makes it clear without preamble.

“I know, I'm listening” you find yourself saying with a dry mouth.

“When you leave, you'll get one visit from me a month, I'll make sure you're okay and that you don't miss anything,” he begins in a confident tone, "But I'm not going to lie to you, something out of the ordinary has happened and I need you to be prepared psychologically.”

You open your eyes wide, “I don't understand, I'm healthy, you said so” possible that in a few days something has happened to your body? Being used at the will of a man - a wolf to be precise - doesn't make you crazy, but you also don't want to die of who knows what illness.

“You're not sick, Y/N,” the doctor tries to calm you down, ”Okay? It's not that. You've received many matches,” he spits in the end, a little worried about your reaction.

“W-what?” you stammer, ”You mean... two males?”

“No, not two.” and then the bomb, “Seven.”

No. This can't be true, there's no way you can stand that. One Moondirian is dangerous, two are unmanageable, but seven... with a startled groan you imagine what kind of death you will get. A very, very slow and painful one.

Oliver takes off his glasses, rubbing the lenses with the fabric of his lab coat, “It's shocking. Even the guys in the lab were surprised. Only once have we had more than one match with a single female, but even then it was only two compatible males. Your body, on the other hand, tested compatible with as many as seven Moondirians. We repeated the test, but the result remained the same.”

You observe him without blinking. Oliver looks surprised, but not frightened; you can see his emotions clearly now. The doctor is thrilled, though he tries not to show it to you specifically.

You will be fed to seven wolves.

“Does this mean that I will have sexual relations with all of them? What will really happen to me? It's all just too much! I am not a rag doll to be divided into seven parts!” you blurt out in panic, trying to pull the IV out, which Oliver won't allow by holding you by the wrist.

“Calm down.” he murmurs sternly, making you nauseous. Of course, everyone here thinks you're the weird one.

“You can't escape this obligation, the only alternative would be to die, and I assure you the soldiers don't go lightly.”

You know, you read in their eyes the lust and anger in them, they would not pity you.

“One of them is a doctor, I will only be able to visit you once a month, but he will make sure every day that you are fine, okay? He will also explain to you in detail what they expect from you and what you absolutely must not do,” you nod slowly, unable to say anything else. Your vision blurs and you look away from Oliver, who has meanwhile gently slipped the needle out of your arm. He stopped you from removing the IV because you would have hurt yourself, and despite this kindness you are not grateful, now you know that this man is just making sure you get to them intact. You are disgusted, you would have preferred Hoseok's direct cruelty to Oliver's false kindness.

“Get some sleep, they will come for you tonight.”

“You won't tell me anything about them? Not even how I might recognize them?” you ask angrily, but Oliver denies with his head.

“I am not allowed to talk about them, you will meet them yourself when they come for you.”

With those last words of his, he leaves the room never to return.

“Are you ready?” asks one of the doctors who assisted you in those last days spent at the center.

You cross your arms, finding it comfortable and safe in the warmth of the new sweater you were provided a few hours earlier, along with some simple jeans and sneakers. The doctor nods in satisfaction, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. From what you understand, almost all the doctors at the procreation center have vision problems, this due to a dangerous exposure in one of the many chemical factories where they were being exploited by humans.

“The car has arrived, just missing you, girl.”

It's like walking toward the gallows; the terror, the anxiety, the rising heartbeat, it's all there.

Then, in the middle of the dark and desolate street surrounding the procreation center you see it; it's Hoseok's car. Two green, disinterested eyes watch you as you drive through the front doors, accompanied by one of the doctors. Your heart skips a beat.

“She's ready, she's responded well to the treatment, just as we expected,” you hear the doctor say, Hoseok merely nodding before focusing on you again, squaring you from head to toe with an air of condescension.

“So, little flower... I'll be your Charon, aren't you excited about that?”

A strange and unsettling feeling snakes down your spine.

Could it be that-

“Are you one of the seven?” you ask point-blank, praying for a negative answer.

You see him smile in response, “Who knows...”

“You will receive a visit from Dr. Smith at least once a month, I trust you will treat this genetic prodigy well,” the doctor goes back to say.

Genetic prodigy? Obviously.

A human woman compatible with seven Moondirians is really something prodigious and valuable.

You are just a broodmare; you will be thrown away when you can no longer bring children into the world.

You enter the car with a sense of déjà-vu, the only difference being that when Hoseok reaches you, he no longer seems so cheerful.

“I prayed to the Moon Goddess, asking her to keep you away from my person, but as far as I can see, our fates have once again become entwined,” he mumbles as he puts on his seatbelt.

“I'm not so happy to see you again either,” you spit between your teeth, no longer able to hold back your irritation. The wolf snorts slightly, but then suddenly you have your chin clenched in a terribly painful grip and two green eyes glaring at you.

“A word of advice, little flower,” he blows into your face - notes of cedar and sea leave you stunned for a moment - and then resumes, ”Try to keep that attitude of yours at bay, some of them are more touchy than others, and I wouldn't advise you to upset them by being a brat.”

Maybe you've gone completely crazy, but you can't refrain from answering them again with a taunt, “Are you like them, Hoseok?”

It is like watching flames suddenly burst into flames, unable to do anything to avoid them. One moment the wolf is still holding you tight, the next he grabs you by the hair and presumptuously presses your lips against his, with a growl that silences your pitiful moan.

He is violent, invasive, his tongue penetrates your mouth hard to your throat, forcing you to gasp for air, and his sharp teeth scratch the delicate skin of your lips. The taste of blood intrudes on your entanglement of tongues and fear blinds you.

You place your hand on his chest and push him away forcefully, succeeding after no small amount of effort only because he is the one allowing you to do so, putting an end to that barbaric attack.

“What the fuck-!” you sob, shocked, barely noticing that Hoseok is quietly wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his uniform.

“Now be quiet. You are in no position to provoke or dictate, try not to piss me off, I've already told you.”

You bring your hands to your lap, lowering your eyes. With a hollow in the center of your chest and tears stuck in your throat, you realize that your first kiss was used for a cowardly display of power.

But in such a world, what is the point of preserving the first kiss? For you and many other women, sweetness or love will no longer exist, nor will the possibility of finding a faithful and loving partner.

The roar of the car became a pleasant background noise, something you listened to carefully to distract yourself from the dangerous presence at your side.

All along the way your lips tingled and pulsed, still swollen from the bites of Hoseok, who had certainly not held back. He had to punish you, and he did it in the vilest of ways; therefore, you dared not even look at him by accident since you left.

Several times, looking first at the city and then at the countryside from the window, you had the eerie desire to open the door and jump out of the running car. But you reconsidered. Whether you were dead or alive, Hoseok is a Moondirian and would have caught up with you in a very few seconds, perhaps even taking sadistic pleasure in finding you smashed on the asphalt.

It is certainly disgusting, but... you don't want to die, not yet. Even though you've wished it many times, it's not really what you want.

“We have arrived,” your Charon informs you, pointing you to a country house that is very old, but also solid enough to still stand effortlessly.

The pale stone villa stands on an expanse of undulating fields, surrounded by cypress trees and quiet wilderness. The arched windows of the house watch you sleepily as Hoseok waves you out of the car.

You take a closer look at the exterior walls of the villa, slightly cracked from the many years that have passed and who knows how many stories to tell; beyond that there is also a wooden veranda running the entire south side of the house, with empty and abandoned terracotta pots. You take steps forward, intrigued by all you are allowed to see, and you also notice the presence of an orchard, also abandoned, that extends to the edge of the woods.

“Don't get any ideas, this is an isolated house that we use as a base,” mutters Hoseok, before muttering to himself, ' 'Cause of you we'll have to live there a lot longer.'

You stiffen.

Thanks to the natural beauty of that forgotten place, you are momentarily lost in your exploration, forgetting the presence of other Moondirians.

“Don't just stand there, you might get sick,” he blurts, grabbing you by the arm, realizing that a slightly too cold breeze is making you shiver, ”You're annoying as it is, don't make it worse with your physical weakness.”

He drags you to the large dark oak front door, pulling out a set of keys probably as old as the house. With a loud click, the door creaks open, showing the antiquated, but neat and tidy interior, as if someone had recently cleaned it up.

The smell of scented candles permeates the air, leaving you surprised given its appearance - you thought you smelled dust or mold, not baked apple and cinnamon. One glance at Hoseok's more relaxed expression and you realize that a Moondirian's sense of smell would not have liked that stench of an old and neglected house.

It's ridiculous to walk alongside him, carefully observing every dark corner of the house and lightly lit only by candles; it's like watching a lamb willingly flank a wolf. Creepy.

“Have a seat, the others will be here soon,” he points to the black velvet sofa, taking off his uniform jacket himself to place it on a coat rack. The cream-colored wallpaper with small stylized flowers whispers to you that the mansion probably belonged to an elderly but well-off human couple. Perhaps they lived humbly to remain in God's grace, but perhaps they died because of Moondir's wolves.

You sit cautiously on the sofa as Hoseok pours himself a glass of brandy without deigning to offer you any, not that you would accept that unlikely show of kindness.

“Why are you assigned to me?” you ask.

Hoseok strikes you as someone who prefers to give orders, not receive them.

“You mean because I carried you around here and there? I was the only one free, the others are busy with hunting, you know... finding males of your kind and torturing them a bit,” he explains easily, making your eyes widen.

“Uh... Dr. Smith also mentioned a doctor among you,” you have to make sure, Moondirian doctors seem much quieter and more sociable than soldiers, you have to be able to make friends with him if you want to live with some dignity.

Hoseok smiles slowly, a smile that does not reach his cold eyes, “Yes... he is in charge of treating the prisoners' wounds. They can't die while we're torturing them, they have to talk, and if they die before they do, they won't be of any use at all.”

He talks about such things with a monstrous calm, as if it were absolute and perfect normalcy.

“How can you sleep at night, thinking of all the people you've hurt?” you murmur without thinking of the consequences, trapped in a reality devoid of humanity.

Hoseok leans against the wall and crosses his legs, in a more comfortable and relaxed position. He dances the brandy in the glass slowly and cautiously, losing himself in its amber hues with an absorbed air.

“It's not hard, little flower... I think back on what I've been through and their lives automatically fade into the background,” he smiles foolishly, with a maddening shadow in his gaze, “You, on the other hand, should be grateful. You are still alive and not stuck in a tangle of bodies catching fire. Many would like to be in your place.”

Hoseok's eyes twinkle slightly, then he lifts them toward you, but not to look at you. He's looking at something behind you, and a shiver of creepiness coats your skin when something intangible brushes against your ear. It is not the wind. It is too warm and intimate, a sigh.

You get up from the sofa with a scream, Hoseok immediately grabs you preventing you from escaping, holding you tightly to his side with a real laugh this time.

The crash of the glass on the floor is just a miserable detail.

A man watches you, nonchalant. His amber eyes, deep and impenetrable, are framed by thick lashes that accentuate his dark gaze, as if traced by charcoal. They remind you with a shudder of Yoongi, but he is not. There is nothing that unites the two men, apart from the strange, bulky presence. The face, angelic in appearance, is distorted by a smug expression that clutches your stomach.

How many faces does the devil possess? Because he is probably the one in front of you.

“You weren't lying when you said she was as beautiful and fragile as a flower,” he smiles with the tip of a tooth sticking out, ”Who knows how many bastards she'll help us churn out before her petals fall off completely.”

“Hold back, Taehyung... I'm sure you know the rules, our guest has to learn a few things before she can satisfy us,” Hoseok snorts, feeling you trembling against him.

“I won't do anything too invasive, I promise,” insists the new diabolical being, Taehyung.

Your instincts lead you to do something very awkward. You hide behind Hoseok, as if by now your body has gotten used to using that wolf as a shield, deluding you with some kind of protection that doesn't really exist. You clutch the rough fabric of his uniform as if your very life depended on it, and Hoseok lets you do it, perhaps taking sadistic pleasure in seeing a prey taking refuge in her predator's embrace. You make him feel somehow chosen, something he will never admit to anyone.

“What's up with our little flower?” Taehyung asks, raising an eyebrow with amusement as he scans you from head to toe. His eyes linger on your form with an interest he doesn't try to hide. Although you are human, spending pleasant time with you will not be a disgusting experience, as he had assumed when he learned of your match. He just didn't expect that he would have to share you with his teammates as well.

“Please don't call me that,” you murmur hesitantly, finding that nickname ridiculous and embarrassing. It makes you feel like you are something useless in their eyes, nice to get but unimportant.

A flower, in fact.

“Oh, look at that, you made her angry!” Hoseok snickers, shaking his head at the other wolf. “Now apologize,” he adds with a mocking tone, grabbing your wrist with disconcerting familiarity.

Before you can even process what’s happening, he hurls you toward Taehyung.

The latter catches you mid-air, effortlessly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll apologize properly,” Taehyung murmurs, a flicker of excitement in his velvety voice. A boulder of terror plunges into your chest and a scream of anguish explodes in your throat.

313 notes · View notes

permanentmess · 1 month ago

Text

bob reynolds headcanons (including romantic x reader !)

GIF NOT MINE

a/n: i have completely let this hyperfixation consume me to the point where i quite literally think of bob or the thunderbolts most of the day. it's debilitating, but that means you will get some very passionate fics from me (literally have been in the middle of writing one thats why this took so long)

this is written with a female reader in mind, although could be easily read as otherwise :)

also let me address a common worry: absolutely NONE of this is meant to infantilize or baby this character in any way. anything i wrote was with a lot of consideration and i was using my logical thought processes to develop these. i recognize that this is a major issue already and i am not attempting to contribute to it

warnings: mentions of sex/sex life and activities so MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY, mental illness (obviously), food/lack of eating, SPOILERS FOR THE THUNDERBOLTS* FILM INCLUDING POST CREDIT SCENE

like i said in the thunderbolts one, its practically canon/accepted fanon that bob loves to read

i also feel like he might just...forget to eat (this basically comes from the bag of food and full shake he had in the post credit scene too lmao)

is trying to learn to cook but can really only cook like mac and cheese or scrambled eggs

but since he has a lot more free time, i can imagine after a bit he'd get pretty good at it (can you imagine ben grimm teaching him how to cook oml)

relationship wise, i think he's not exactly inexperienced, but he doesn't really remember anything

it says in his file his drug addiction and juvenile record started in middle school

so any romantic relationship or anything in that realm is just like...not familiar to him at all. or he just simply doesn't remember, like i said

i feel like he really likes physical touch but due to his past + the void, he's just a bit scared to touch anyone at first

but once he trusts himself and others more its easier (like towards the end of the movie/with yelena)

i think he likes the comfort of the baggy clothes that cover most of him, and thats why he wears them even though he "runs hot" (totally not projecting here) ((also its like teenagers w their hoodies -- weighted blanket style))

something tells me he likes arcades, specifically claw machines. idk why

also stuffed animals. yelena and ava definitely bought him one of those weighted ones

he seems like he would want to sleep with a nightlight at least, if not one of those aurora borealis light thingys (i have one 10/10 very calming)

i know everyone writes him as stuttering a lot, but i think he really only does it when he's anxious (i think im an expert, ive seen this movie 5 times don't come for me 🤚🏼)

like he can get really confident, especially on his better days

other than reading, i feel like he'd get into drawing or photography. something creative that can distract him but provide an outlet

(also this is actually canon but) he does the chores and dishes because he wants to feel like he's contributing to the team since he can't control his powers :(

this is maybe me projecting a little, but i feel like he ends up finding a lot of solace in nature. he went to malaysia to try and figure stuff out, so i have no doubts that he likes to get out of the city

more x reader based [romantic, some could be platonic]:

he loves his hair being played with. like you want him to pass out easy? let him stick his head in your lap, run your hands through it, massage his scalp. he'll be OUT in like 5 minutes

washing his hair? oh my god he is literally in heaven

your relationship is very slow but honestly both of you are okay with that

you two are also that couple that doesn't argue. you may disagree or want to talk to each other about stuff, but you never raise your voices [think: holt and kevin in B99 "arguing"]

he kinda does seem like the jealous type to me, but not in the toxic way. he'll just squeeze your hand extra tight or do that behind hug where he puts his head on yours or your shoulder and you immediately know

(its very hot when he gets possessive)

other than physical touch, i think he's an acts of service man. anything he can do to share his love, he wants to. and he likes little things you do for him

when i think of being with bob i just think of that quiet relationship where you're really in sync, soft mornings with the sun streaming in through the window, cute candid photos on each others phones

but i could also see one with like a slightly more talkative/expressive reader who really brings out bob's confidence. i don't doubt that he loves to yap too (some/most days at least)

he will try to cook for you but it might not turn out well (he's banned from the kitchen one week for burning water. he got distracted cause you were so pretty)

on a bit more of the sexual side, i feel like he has a praise kink. like he likes being told how he's doing, if he's treating you well, etc.

i feel like your guys' sex life starts really slow. just kissing, then moving up, until one day something in you both just kinda snaps and you can't keep your hands off each other

and maybe when its like very passionate or maybe he's a bit jealous that day, sentry comes out a little 🤭

despite being a god, sentry will straight worship you, idc, its canon

not that bob wouldn't

but sentry does on another level

at the end of the day, bob wants what you want, and you want what he wants, so it all works out well

bob is the type to have a note on his notes app of just your favorite things (all your typical orders, favorite books/movies/music, etc.). like its not that he doesn't remember (he has it memorized) but you know just in case Void takes a lot more of his memory

he'll bring a jacket with just in case you forget, he'll open doors for you, pull out your chair, he just gives off pure sweetheart and gentleman energy (not in the infantilization way)

just imagine a really peaceful relationship all around with such a genuine, sweet guy (i need him so bad)

as with the thunderbolts one, let me know about your own! kinda short but i hope they are enjoyable

#bob reynolds x reader #mcu #bob reynolds headcanons #thunderbolts #sentry x reader #void x reader

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inkedinshadows · 8 months ago

Text

Unraveling Truths

This is a bonus scene for my miniseries "A Helping Hand". You can read part 1 of 3 here. I know I wrote it in August, but I got a few requests for more so here we are.

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Summary: Azriel finally explains to his mate what the wingspan business is all about.

Warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), written in 3rd POV (matching the rest of the series)

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: I love time zones because it’s 2am here but it’s still the 16th in the US so I’m technically not late :) This fic is just another proof that I can't write drabbles lol. Anyway, hank you @azrielsshadows42 for the inspo 🫶🏻 and thank you @azrielappreciationweek it was so much fun writing for this event 💙💙

“You still haven't told me.”

She watched him from his bed, the sight still so new that Azriel's heartbeat quickened each time he saw it.

For the past week, she had spent every night with him, usually in his room. Yet walking in to find her reading a book while she waited for him was something he was still getting used to. And something he would never take for granted.

Azriel sat on the edge of the bed, leaning closer to brush a kiss to her temple as she set the book down. “Told you what, beautiful?”

The corner of his lips curled up at the small blush that colored her cheeks, even after a week of hearing that nickname. He was never going to stop using it.

He began to take off his boots, holding his breath as she knelt behind him and unfastened the latches of his shirt. Her fingers brushed the base of his wings, and he had to muster all his self-control to keep his body from reacting.

“About wingspan,” she replied casually. “You still haven't explained it.”

He froze, sitting a bit straighter. “Why do you want to know?”

She undid the last latch, and though the shirt now hung loosely around his torso, he made no move to remove it.

“Because I want to know all about you.” She moved to sit beside him, seemingly unaware of his slight change in demeanor. “And because you said you'd explain, but you still haven't.”

Azriel swallowed thickly. He'd been happy to hold her in his arms every night, knowing she'd be the first thing he saw in the morning. His hands had never wandered too freely over her body. He wanted to take things slow with her, not only to respect the trauma she had endured, but also because she wasn't just another girl. She was his mate, and he'd be damned if he ruined things by rushing them.

But he couldn't deny he had thought about how she would feel. How she would taste. How she would look while he pleasured her.

Her question about wingspan certainly didn’t help.

And if she was bringing it up again after a week, her curiosity wasn’t likely to fade anytime soon.

“Alright,” he finally said, and she rewarded him with that beautiful smile of hers—the one that never failed to make his heart skip a beat. “Rumor has it that the span of an Illyrian’s wings reflects the size of… certain body parts.”

She frowned, a small crease appearing on her brow. He resisted the urge to smooth it away with his thumb.

“What body parts?” she asked, her gaze wandering up and down his body as if she could see the answer somewhere.

He was glad she wasn’t looking at his face when he replied, “Intimate body parts, Y/N.”

Her eyes shot up to meet his, wide with surprise and shock. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she looked down again. Straight at his crotch.

Azriel had to draw on five hundred years of composure to keep himself from shifting—and, more importantly, from hardening under her gaze. She’s just surprised, he told himself. That’s why she’s looking. Nothing more.

When she met his eyes again, her voice was quiet, as though she was too shy to ask but couldn’t help herself.

“And, uh…” She paused, clearing her throat before finishing. “Are those just rumors?”

The words slipped out before he could think. “No. It’s true.”

She studied him for a moment, and he feared he’d said too much and made her uncomfortable. But before he could apologize, she spoke again.

“Does Cassian really have the largest wingspan?”

He couldn’t stop the smirk that spread across his lips. “He likes to brag about it, but no, he doesn’t.” And though he knew he probably shouldn’t, he added, “I do.”

Her eyes widened, dropping to his crotch again. This time, his body reacted before he could stop it, and he felt himself beginning to harden in his pants. Her cheeks flushed an ever deeper shade of red.

“Hey, it's alright,” he murmured, tilting her chin up so she would look at him. “I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

To his surprise, she gave him a soft smile. “You didn't. I asked. It's just…” Her voice trailed off, and she looked away for a moment before returning her focus to him.

“I just don't have much experience,” she whispered.

Azriel needed to change the topic immediately before his mind began running wild, thinking of all the things he could show her, all the sensations he could make her feel, all the possibilities. He reeled in his thoughts.

Sliding an arm around her waist, he pulled her closer. “It's alright,” he repeated, pressing another kiss to her temple. “We don't have to do anything. I don't want you to feel pressured.”

“But what if…” She hesitated, but as she bit her lip, she placed her hand on his leg, just above his knee but close enough for Azriel to be acutely aware of every small movement of her fingers. He was caught in a suspended moment, where everything hinged on her next words.

“What if I want to do something?”

His heart pounded in his chest. “You… want to?”

Despite the blush still coloring her cheeks, she held his gaze and nodded, a shy smile playing on her lips. He struggled not to kiss her right then and there and let his hands explore every inch of her body.

“Tell me what you want, beautiful,” he said instead, keeping his voice quiet and steady. “Anything you want, you can have it.”

She looked down, her gaze landing on the erection he could no longer hide. “I want to help you with that,” she murmured, her hand sliding up to his thigh and squeezing gently.

Azriel sucked in a breath. Unable to stop himself, he shifted, spreading his legs slightly to bring her hand closer to where he wanted it.

“Are you sure?” he asked. He needed her, desperately, but he didn’t want her to feel obligated.

Instead of answering, she stepped off the bed. Her eyes never left his as she moved between his parted legs, her fingers reaching for his shirt. He didn't stop her as she tugged it off, revealing his tanned chest.

“I'm sure, Az,” she whispered, her finger tracing the swirling lines of his tattoos. She'd done it many times before, but now it felt more intimate, more intentional. “Let me do this for you.”

He couldn't hold back any longer. Not when she looked at him with rosy cheeks and eyes full of desire. They both wanted this, and he wasn’t going to turn her down.

Cupping her face in his hands, Azriel pulled her in for a kiss. As their lips met, the bond between them came to life, glowing bright and golden in his chest and filling him with warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of his growing arousal.

“Go on, then,” he murmured against her lips when he finally found the will to break the kiss. “You can do whatever you like.”

She smiled, and under Azriel's attentive gaze, she knelt between his legs. From where he sat, the neckline of her nightgown left little to the imagination. He swallowed, his breath catching as she began unbuttoning his pants. He lifted his hips just enough for her to slide them down his legs, along with his underwear, leaving him bare before her. Her eyes widened slightly as the took him in.

“You weren't lying about it,” she murmured, glancing up at him. “I didn't expect you to be… this big.”

His smirk turned smug. “You certainly know how to flatter a male's ego.”

She chuckled, averting her gaze for only a moment before reaching out. Her hand wrapped around his aching cock, making him gasp audibly. At the sound, a smile of delight appeared on her face, and she began to stroke him slowly, her movements gentle and exploratory.

His eyes locked with hers, and, encouraged by the connection, she grew bolder. Her grip tightened slightly, and he instinctively bucked his hips forward. Still, he held back as much as he could, letting her set the pace she was most comfortable with. But she leaned closer, her eyes searching his for permission, a silent question lingering in them.

Azriel brushed her cheek, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. “Whatever you like,” he repeated in a whisper.

She nodded, and as his hand slipped away, she leaned in, her tongue flicking out to run along his cock before her lips closed around his tip. He sucked in a breath, resisting the urge to push himself deeper into her mouth and holding his body still. The only sign of his impatience was the faint rustle of his wings behind him.

She continued to stroke him slowly, teasing him with gentle squeezes and soft touches, her tongue swirling around his head until precum leaked out. But with each of his sighs and the small, involuntary twitches of his hips, her confidence grew. She took him a few inches deeper, hesitating briefly sliding before her lips farther down his cock, stretching her jaw to fit as much of him as she could.

“Fuck…” he groaned, the word escaping his lips as she hollowed her cheeks. Her mouth was warm, wet and impossibly tight, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to thrust into her. Instead, he tangled his fingers in her hair—not to guide her, but to ground himself, needing the connection, needing to feel her any way he could.

His little outburst seemed to wash away the last traces of her shyness. She began to bob her head, still using her hand to cover what her mouth couldn’t take, her tongue swirling around him with ease. Her eyes stayed locked on his, and Cauldron boil him, Azriel could have come right then.

His mate was on her knees before him, pleasuring him in a way he had never dared to dream of. Over the last week, he'd fantasized about it once or twice, but he’d assumed she wasn’t ready to take that step and relished the simple intimacy of a gentle, teasing touch while cuddling.

But here she was, her boldness lighting a fire inside him.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, a moan spilling from his lips.

She blushed again but only moved faster, taking him deeper. His eyes rolled back, and his fingers tightened in her hair. When she whimpered softly, the sound sent a shock of pleasure through him, clouding his mind and driving him closer to the edge. He rocked his hips once, unable to hold back any longer.

“I’m… I’m close, sweetheart,” he panted. He didn’t care if he didn’t last long, didn't care that she’d been working him for only a few minutes. His release coiled tighter in his gut, his breaths coming faster, and he knew he couldn't hold it back. “You should stop if you don’t want me to come in your mouth.”

But the desire in her eyes only burned brighter, and she didn’t stop. Instead, she put even more effort into it, her free hand resting on his thigh while the other one squeezed gently at the base of his cock. When she hollowed her cheeks again, her warm mouth enveloping him so perfectly, Azriel’s control shattered.

With a groan, pleasure crashed over him, his release spilling down her throat. She swallowed every drop, the rhythmic contractions of her mouth around him drawing out his pleasure for a few more moments before he relaxed again, loosening his grip on her hair as he struggled to catch his breath.

After a moment, she pulled back, and Azriel immediately felt the absence of her warmth around him. Her hand slipped away as well, and for a beat, they simply looked at each other, twin smiles of satisfaction on their faces.

“You were wonderful,” he said eventually, helping her stand and guiding her to sit on his lap. “That was incredible.”

Her blush returned, deepening at his praise, an endearing sight he would never grow tired of. It made him want to keep complimenting her, especially after the pleasure she’d just given him.

He kissed her, savoring the softness of her lips and the familiar taste he’d come to cherish over the past week, now mixed with a hint of own release. His tongue slid into her mouth, entwining with hers while his hand drifted down to her thigh, brushing the hem of her nightgown. She didn’t pull away, but Azriel sensed the sudden tension seizing her body, despite her attempt to hide it.

He immediately withdrew his hand, silently cursing himself for assuming too much, especially after being so careful to let her dictate their pace.

Pulling back from the kiss, he searched her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I should have asked.”

She shook her head, but she didn't look at him. “No, it's my fault. When I said I don't have much experience, I… I actually meant I don't have any experience.”

Azriel did his best to mask his surprise, not wanting to make her feel more self-conscious. Gently, he placed his hand on her waist, drawing slow, soothing circles over the fabric of her nightgown.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked softly.

Her eyes remained fixed downward as she nervously fidgeted with her fingers. “Because you're five centuries old,” she whispered. “You must have so much experience with these things, and I don't, and I didn't want you to be disappointed if I—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, unwilling to let her continue down that path. Tilting her chin up with a gentle finger, he waited patiently for her to meet his eyes. When she didn't, he murmured, “Can you look at me, sweetheart?”

Slowly, her gaze slid to his. Azriel offered her a soft, reassuring smile, hoping it would ease her worries.

“I don't care if you don't have any experience,” he said, his hand still caressing her side. “I'm not disappointed. All that matters to me is you and whether you're comfortable with whatever we're doing.”

She nodded, though some tension still lingered in her body. He could tell she struggled to believe him, but he wanted to make it clear that he would respect any boundary, any hesitation. She came first, and she always would. Everything else could wait.

“We can take things as slow as you want to,” he continued. “I won't rush you. You're in control, Y/N. Always. Okay?”

At last, he felt her body relax, a relieved smile appearing on her face. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”

“Good.” Azriel smiled back, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Will you let me get up for a moment? I'll wash up quickly, and then we can go to sleep.”

Her smile grew, a hint of playful anticipation gleaming in her eyes. “Can we cuddle?”

He chuckled. “Of course we can cuddle, beautiful.”

As she slid off his lap, he stole one last kiss before getting up and heading to the bathroom. He could feel her eyes following him, and he couldn't help but smirk.

He wanted her, but if she needed more time, he'd give it to her without question, even after what she'd just done for him. After all, her trust and comfort were more important than his need, and he knew that waiting would only make the moment she was truly ready even more special. The wait would be worth it.

Because she was worth it. She was worth everything.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

#azrielappricationweek2024 #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #acotar fanfic #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #sjm #sarah j maas #fanfiction

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half-dead-writer · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! Could you do a masc (gn is okay too!) reader with Boom Shadow where reader is a minimum wage worker (probably works at meh burger or some cheap store) and Shadow falls head over heels for him? Straight up love at first sight. Like it's completely one-sided and he's really embarassed about having a crush on some random guy (of all people lmao) but he tries his best to befriend him. It's based on a trope i have with my OC and i thought it'd be fun to see how someone else would interpret the dynamic! (If possible, maybe Shadow successfully asks him out on a date at the end?)

Author's Note

ty for that fun request!! :3 I had a masc reader in mind for this one but once again I couldn't fit the masc mention anywhere so it kinda turned out gender neutral lol idk if I made him too dramatic but I hope you enjoy it anyway! i don't really know how to call this format, it's like a fanfic but also loosely written, like in headcanon form oh well, whatever, it exists

Favorite Employee

Shadow keeps coming back to Meh Burger, but not because of the food.

character: Shadow The Hedgehog (Sonic Boom) words: 2,386 reader: gender-neutral (intended to be masc) warnings: none, I think?? slightly suggestive at the end but nothing bad

How did that happen?

Shadow would've never indulged in his craving for a burger if he knew what the day would bring.

But today, the ultimate life form entertained his stomach's demands, chaos controlling himself right in front of the cursed place.

He knew the citizens well, at least from afar. So the moment be laid your eyes on you he knew you were a new face. He hardly cared for newcomers, but something about you, your clothes, your attitude, seemed to draw him in.

Of course, he ignored the feeling at first, placing confident strides towards the counter.

His sharp voice cut through the silence. "One burger."

Whatever your response was, be it dull like the rest of the place, kind, or even shy, the mere sound of your voice as you handed him the bag with a burger inside, telling him the amount of money he owed, felt like a gut punch to his entire being. On the outside, his face remained hardened, but the frown he usually wore started to show a different emotion. Surprise? Confusion?

He grabbed the bag after paying for it, and then disappeared in the blink of an eye.

The cave did nothing to calm down his beating heart, his eyes hardly focusing on the glowing markings adorning the walls.

Why was this happening?

The hedgehog looked at the bag in his hand, fingers clutching the paper so tightly it caused creases to appear on it.

Even run-ins with the blue hedgehog didn't leave him so... exhausted? Like he was on the verge of falling down.

That stupid face of yours was etched into his brain, worming it's way into his thoughts.

It was all stupid.

He felt... anger.

Initially, he thought it was directed at you.

But the deeper he dug, he realized the anger was stemming from seeing himself as weak.

How could he react like that to a random Meh Burger employee?

It was embarrassing. And he couldn't even figure out why.

Struggling to confront his emotions, he carefully unwrapped the packaged item. The presence of the object reminding him of events that transpired moments ago.

He wasn't even hungry anymore.

Safe to say, you started to notice his face in the crowd more often. Always the same order, at the same time.

Shadow was not known for his predictable behavior, but from experience, you could swear he'd always be there to get his food on time. You always made sure to prepare the bag a few minutes before his arrival, starting to notice the approval in his poker face as he received the item. You had no idea about the sickening butterflies appearing in his stomach each time his hand brushed against yours as you passed him his order.

Every meeting of yours was simple. Shadow appeared to get the order. Took the goods. Then teleported back. No conversation exchanged besides except for the transaction.

Until the one time you got to work late and the first thing you saw after arriving there, was the ebony hedgehog, arguing with your coworker, Dave.

"This one is insufficient." His piercing gaze bore onto the burger as if trying to make it disappear. Some poor excuse of sustenance, not even served by you. "Where's (Y/N)?" He knew your name by heart now, catching a glimpse of it on your name tag.

"Sir, we ensure you all burgers are of the same quality. Fresh from the freezer." Dave explained, dead eyes staring back at the clearly annoyed customer.

"Not what I asked, fool." His sight narrowed, already impatient with this fruitless conversation.

Another lavender shirt with yellow leaf-markings came into his view, this time not as infuriating. You.

He felt the need to flinch but stood his ground, not moving a muscle as you approached closer.

Obviously confused, you asked about the commotion.

Shadow remained silent, glaring at Dave. He didn't have to explain himself.

"This guy asked about you." He shamelessly pointed at the hedgehog. "I'm taking my break." And then he was gone.

Your eyes met with his in a silent question.

Shadow wanted to speak, but no words were coming out. Why did he feel like was not the one in control of the situation?

It was hard for him not to sound like a fool when the reason for his annoyance was him not seeing you.

"I didn't like his attitude." He mumbled an explanation. It was close enough.

Seeing the smile appear on your face after was worth it.

It was official. You were a better employee than Dave. Which of course, wasn't a surprise, but it still fed your ego a bit.

You took the bag left by Dave, passing it over the counter.

Shadow almost hesitated to grab it, his brain flooded with several thought processes. Should he add something else?

The hedgehog slowly took the object out of your hand, fingers lightly brushing over your own. The contact was the final push for him to spill out the words.

"What time do you leave work?" His question sounded more intimidating than he planned to, the rushed rumble in his voice coming out almost like a growl.

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden question. Then quickly recovered, reminding yourself he waited for an answer. Looking at the time, you responded truthfully, be it curiosity, genuine fear or lack thereof.

Without breaking the eye contact, he asked, or more so commanded you to arrive at the destination and time chosen by him.

Without even waiting for your response, the last words you heard before him disappearing were "Don't be late."

And just like that, he was gone. Leaving you with... possibly a life or death situation. You really weren't sure whether the guy was asking you to hang out, or planned to murder you where no one could find your body. As a newcomer, you didn't know much about Shadow, but from the passing conversation, you knew he was not a creature to mess with. Why would he out of all people invite you to a hang-out? That question haunted your mind for the rest of the shift, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't interested. You had to know what was the hedgehog's deal, even if it killed you. Possibly, he wouldn't. By a stretch, you were his favorite employee, after all.

Shadow did not need to hear your response. He teleported somewhere calm where he could gather his thoughts. He didn't think he was able to hear the rejection coming from your mouth.

If you didn't accept his offer, you wouldn't show. All that was left to do was to wait for the time of the meeting.

Panic was not something he experienced often. Even fighting with the toughest foes was not as stressful as talking about his feelings. But at this moment, the place inbetween waiting for you to leave work and the meeting, Shadow couldn't escape the churning in his stomach. The dread reaching up his spine as he thought of his next course of action.

Shadow did not have a plan yet, but one thing was clear. He wanted you to stop invading his brain and making him feel distracted, weak. Wanted you to give him the attention he deserved. Wanted you.

Multiple scenarios played in his head, wanting to be prepared for every possibility. You running away, rejection, at worst, maybe laughter. None of them were positive, but he had to make sure he'd be able to accept the outcome, no matter the response.

He was rehearsing what to say in his mind. Wondering if he looks presentable. Checking the time over and over (he was not gonna be late). Picking where to stand so the lighting makes him look cooler, even if he wouldn't admit to that part. Everything had to be on his terms if he was gonna lower himself to be... vulnerable.

The time passed quicker than he'd like. He was already at the place, watching from afar, noting any movement that his eyes could catch. And alas, he had noticed your silhouette, approaching the meetup spot at the agreed on time.

He teleported behind you, earning a startled yelp that made a subtle smirk appear on his face for a moment.

“You’re late.”

You weren’t. It was just his way of managing the emotions threatening to rise to the surface.

Opening your mouth to respond, Shadow beat you to it and spoke first. He didn't wanna waste any time.

“Why did you smile?” His tone was flat, but the question held weight. “Earlier. When I said I didn’t like his attitude.”

He didn't know how else to ask "Do you like me?" without saying it out loud. He had to get some information before proceeding with the heavier stuff.

You hesitated for a second. Did he really have to get you out here just to ask that question? You decided to tell the truth.

“Well… it was nice to be appreciated.”

That caught him off guard.

His eyes widened slightly, just enough to be noticeable. His posture tensed, but not out of anger.

You gave a small shrug, trying to play it off, but the warmth in your voice betrayed you. “Nobody really notices when you do your job right. You noticed.”

He spoke after a second of suffocating silence. “That wasn’t the intention.”

You gave him a wry look. “You almost started a fight over a burger. Kinda seemed like it?"

His eyes narrowed, something in his expression shifting. His angry defensiveness was still there, but something else also shined through his attitude. Almost like he was... flustered.

“It wasn’t about the burger.” He grumbled, his voice keeping it's harshness. The questions were too much to bear.

“Then what was it about?” You couldn't stop the question from escaping your lips.

He looked away. Not down, but to the side, like your gaze was too much to handle. You could see the war behind his eyes. He wanted to retreat, teleport out, pretend this never happened. But he couldn't. His pride wouldn't let him.

“It wasn’t about the food. It was about you not being there.” The stiffness showed in the words that came out. Clearly, he wasn't used to spilling his thoughts like that.

You didn't know how to respond. Seeing your surprised and mildly confused expression, Shadow decided to continue.

"It shouldn't matter. Your absence should not distract me. And yet," he sighed bitterly, disappointed, more so at himself. "I can't get you out of my head."

His eyes returned to meet with yours with intimidating intensity. He took a step closer. "It's pissing me off."

You almost held your breath as the hedgehog approached, quiet yet heavy steps heading your way.

He stopped just a foot away from you. The silence between you both felt too loud, the lack of any response from him only adding to the rising tension in the air.

You swallowed, trying to make sense of the situation. “So… you like me, and that’s the problem?”

Shadow's cheeks get warmer, not used to such intimate matters in regards to him. It was uncomfortable.

“I don’t like you,” he snapped quickly, like a knee-jerk reflex. Then paused. A realization. “…I mean- I don’t just like you.” He mumbled the last sentence.

“I don’t know what this is. I don’t even know what I want from you,” he kept talking, not because he wanted to, but because now that the dam got broken, he couldn't stop. “I don’t even know why it’s you. But I can't keep pretending like it doesn’t affect me.”

Your silence stretched too long due to pure astonishment, hearing the raw sincerity in the hedgehog's words, and the hope for him to say something else

Shadow just stood there. His eyes searched your face, scanning for some sign, anything, that'd show him you weren’t about to laugh, dismiss, or worse, pity him.

But in that long several seconds, you were still quiet. Shadow was not satisfied with your "um"s and "uhh"s as you looked for a response that'd convey your opinion clearly.

His patience ran out prematurely and he took a single step back. Jaw tight, fists clenched at his sides, and voice filled with furious apprehension, barely keeping his cool.

“I didn’t say all that for nothing. You heard me. Now you deal with it.”

There was no warmth in his tone. Only a brittle edge, barely holding together the storm beneath it. He wasn’t angry at you. He was bracing himself. His harsh words were a desperate plea for you to do something.

Any hint of you reciprocating, be it approaching closer, a soft smile, physical touch or telling him about your feelings would give him the push he needed.

He'd close the leftover distance between you two, gaze locked into your eyes, your face, your lips. As if in disbelief. Adrenaline coursing through him like he was in the middle of a battle. Now that his emotions were fully on display, he had a hard time stopping them. The need to make you his. To express it.

He leaned in even closer. There was no doubt what the motion meant. He was about to kiss you, yet still gave you time to reject his advances, almost like a challenge.

When you didn't pull away, his lips finally pressed into yours.

The relief was immense, pulling his emotions out like a magnet to the surface. The kiss wasn't aggressive, but it was filled with restrained desire to devour you, now that he finally won.

Alternative take: if you'd be bold enough to kiss him first as your response (or showed obvious eagerness after he kissed you first)

One moment he was staring at your pretty face, next he felt the pressure on his lips.

It took him by a surprise, making him lose his cool for a second.

But as you showed him the extend of your approval, he quickly recovered, palms clinging to your sides, pulling you even closer.

Depending on your input, the kiss could get way more heated. You got this boy in the bag. Or vice versa.

As you parted ways, Shadow's expression was less guarded. He wore a satisfied smirk that went well with the gleam in his eye.

You were officially his.

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colorlessjay · 5 months ago

Note

hello! may be a weird request but do you have any fanfic recommendations?

BUCKLE THE FUCK UP

OH DO I HAVE SOME RECS FOR YA'LL

Mind you, 90% are based on personal preference and fics I think about way too often than I should. A lot of them influenced the way I make characters interact

Some of them might not be your taste and that's cool!

First off, Gotta promote the fics that people wrote inspired by my art (I am truly honored)

Time Cast A Spell On You by bethefirstwhoeverdid

Cabin of Feathers by Featherpie (Izupie)

Return To The Past by faeryn

NOW FOR MY COLLECTION

Just any fic written by everandanon

I swear to you, all of their fics are worth a read. They are frustrating (In a good way for me) but the worldbuilding, comedy, dialogue, and character interactions always have me physically getting up and laughing. At one point during Quarentantion, I had to stop reading to rant to my friends about it because it made me feel so much that I went to 3 different friends about it. With Interest actually made my heart physically hurt at certain points. Expectations had me on a roller coaster ride But if you think their fics are a little overwhelming, I recommend reading Casicorn. It's the first ever fic I read from them and it solidified my love for this author. I swear I am on my hands and KNEES waiting for them to finish their newest fic

Where All My Journeys End - (a Twist and Shout alt universe) by Say_It_In_Enochian

Did reading Twist and Shout devastate you? Did it emotionally hurt your heart and make you wish there was something to make the pain lighter? READ THIS FUCKING FIC NOW I got so fucking lucky when I found it immediately after reading T&S and when I tell you the JOURNEY this fic took me? It healed my soul The struggles, the history, the relationships, the LONG fight to get to their happy ending I am FLOORED this doesn't have 1000 Kudos!

The Ed Sheeran Effect by tricia_16

It made me laugh. That's it. It's sweet and funny and really fun and just feels very campy, like it could've been a decent movie I would rewatch on days I just feel like feeling good Am I a sucker for HighSchool/College AU fics? Yes do I fucking care? No

The Best Years of Our Lives, My Ass by ireallyhatecornnuts (CharleyFoxtrot)

I. fucking. love. this. fic The story alone was so interesting but it was the DIALOGUE that hooked me in. I swear I think about this fic in the middle of drawing and go "Damn, good times" like it's a long lost friend

Slide Away by Castielslostwings

It's the TENSION that got me. I can't explain to you how much I just love their hate-pining for each other Read it, love it, in my digital bookshelf

Sleep Without You by turningthepages

Hilarious. The density is so high it could float. I swear to god I've read this fic at least three times and think about it once a week I remember reading it and cackling so much that I woke up my mom

Should've Just Asked by Annie D (scaramouche)

I wish this fic had a follow-up that was just Dean's perspective because I would LOVE to read more of it. The situation is so absurd and I binged it all in one day (I'm a very slow reader)

Pinfall by crowleyo

I'm gonna say it. I'm so actually angry this fic doesn't get enough attention. It is so so SO well-written and heart-wrenching. Am I still a sucker for highschool sweethearts? YES! I OPENLY ADMIT THIS! But COME ON

Of fuming and partaking and so on by zation

This fic and literally any fic from Zation. I absolutely love the way this author writes. It's so funny and self-aware and the dialogue and scenarios always keep me entertained and laughing They have such a large catalog of fics that I'm pretty sure I have at least 15 saved on my phone

Mr. Blue Sky by anyrei, queerwolf79

This fic specifically and literally ANYTHING from these two. I swear, a lot of their fics are certified bangers. Mr. Blue Sky is probably a personal favorite of mine cause I actually teared up

Love Me More by Saiorse_Irvyne

I'm not the biggest fan of A/B/O stuff, but MAN this has me feeling things. When a fic makes me feel strong emotions, I just gotta recommend it

Lock and Key by tricia_16

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH it's THAT good

Kind Of A Forever Deal by komodobits

It's FUN. It's FUNNY. It's so fucking campy and cute and the progression of their relationship was just AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

It's Always the End of the World Somewhere by Annie D (scaramouche)

I can sit here and recommend Annie D's fics all DAY, but I'm recommending this one specifically because of this: “Get a room, assholes,” someone mutters. “Hey!” Crowley whirls on the offender. “I could set on you on fire!” And that's one of many fantastic quotes

Cinderwings by bendingsignpost

One of the first fics I've ever read from this fandom, and I recommend it to ANYONE regardless of whether they know Destiel or not. The story is so fucking captivating it makes me want to eat my foot it's so GOOD

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

Do I have a type when it comes to fanfics? Yes

But I like gravitating towards funny dialogue and silly shenanigans. I thrive off of fun fics that sometimes take themselves seriously, but still pull me back and make me laugh

If a fic can make me feel such a strong emotion that I PHYSICALLY have to get up? Then fuck yeah it's going in my archives

I would recommend some of the darker fics I have, but this is for fun

#deancas #destiel #castiel #dean winchester #dean x castiel #cj fanfic recs #destiel fanfic #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #ao3 writer #fanfiction

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studioeisa · 5 months ago

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no one and nothing 📄 seokmin x reader.

you call your sweetie when you can— a minute in and it’s bitter again.

★ part of buzz (seventeen's version). ★ word count: 1.5k ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: non-idol, established [and dissolving] relationship, divorce, hint of an unreliable narrator, angst, i swear this is happy if you really think about it. based off of NIKI’s nothing can; also inspired by ruth lepson’s ‘the day of our divorce hearing’. ★ footnotes: wrote this in one sitting at an overpriced cafe. it’s more prose-heavy than anything, in part because i wanted to experiment with an older writing style. while short, i felt like this is one of the sadder fics i've ever written, and @chugging-antiseptic-dye upon beta-reading described it as something "tired, weary, [and] fatigued." sounds about right. p.s. this was inspired by a conversation with @diamonddaze01, who will likely despise me for seeing this through. it is what it is. 🫡

The tiramisu is perfect, cruelly so.

You’ve complained about not having any good ones for a long time and, unbeknownst to you, Seokmin has made it his personal mission to try every Italian restaurant within a ten-kilometer distance. It’s not the nicest thing he’s done for you, which is saying a lot.

Which makes the divorce papers— sitting in a brown envelope; printed on crisp, legal paper— cruel. So, so cruel.

“You’ve done it again,” you say, your tone edged with amusement as you lick your fork clean.

From across the table, Seokmin offers you a meek smile. In the split second that it takes him to respond, you hedge your bet on what he’ll say. It’s nothing or you would’ve done the same or—

“It’s just tiramisu,” he says.

It’s not just tiramisu. It’s never just tiramisu, and the two of you know that. Does it make it worse? Does it make it better? You haven’t decided. Maybe someday, when you’re older and wiser, you’ll have an answer.

Today, you only have a divorce hearing.

The fact looms over the two of you. It makes the food taste a little bitter, makes the awkward silences a lot louder.

When some of the pasta sauce dribbles down the front of Seokmin’s shirt, you resist the urge to draw parallels to your first date. You were kids back then. Babies, Seokmin used to joke. In your early twenties, sick of swiping right to find someone worth your time. Desperate for something real, for someone who would still be there in the morning.

Fools, you used to think in the thick of your despair. You had been fools who were willing to settle for the first hint of goodness, fools who didn’t know the first thing about being grown-ups.

Present-day you doesn’t reach out with a tissue like you might’ve early on in your relationship. Present-day you doesn’t shoot him a glare like you might’ve when you first started resenting him.

You just— tell him the truth.

“Still such a slob,” you say, half in jest and half as a fact.

He offers you a rueful grin as he tries to rub the offending spot out of his shirt. A shirt you gave him several Christmases ago, you realize, and my God, what a choice. All the clothes in his closet and he goes for the very first polo you’d given him.

“Hey, I clean up pretty well,” he shoots back, and you resist the urge to answer Yeah, I know.

The sauce doesn’t come out completely. It stays a red stain over his left breast.

A bleeding heart, you think, but then you banish the thought.

Not everything has to be a metaphor.

It’s just a stain. This is just a lunch. And Seokmin is just your soon-to-be ex-husband.

Not the loss of your life. Not the human embodiment of all your failures. Not living proof that you cannot be saved.

Soon-to-be ex-husband. That’s it. That’s all.

Seokmin pays for the bill. When you make some joke about alimony, you pointedly ignore how he winces. (Too soon? Too soon.)

He tips the overzealous waitress generously. Maybe too generously, because she lights up and asks if the two of you want a picture together.

“Uh…” Seokmin hesitates, glances at you. “Sure.”

The waitress takes his phone. You give him The Look. Sorry, he soundlessly mouths to you, but he’s also not sorry enough to take it back.

It’s over faster than the waitress can chirp “Cheese!” You lean over the table to see the result. The picture is a touch overexposed, and your smile is tight, and Seokmin’s gaze is unfocused. It may very likely be your last photograph as Mr. and Mrs. Lee Seokmin.

“Thank you,” Seokmin tells the waitress. His voice is soft. Unbearably so.

You take your separate cars to the courthouse. There’s no need for opening statements; the two of you are not here to tear each other’s throats out. This is not a ‘contested’ divorce, as your attorney likes to remind you.

It is a ‘mutual’ decision, and so the hearing is an amicable affair. You’ve had worse days together.

There’s that one Christmas you don’t like to talk about, and the summer road trip that Seokmin always conveniently forgets. Vacations marred with minor inconveniences. Anniversaries and birthdays foregone in favor of things deemed more ‘important’.

You’ve had bad days, and your divorce hearing not being one of them is both a blessing and curse.

There is no kicking, no screaming, no tears. Just the flourish of your signatures and the bang of a gavel. On an unassuming Saturday afternoon, your marriage with Lee Seokmin ends.

(You are not the twenty-something-year-old fool that you once were. Which is to say: It probably ended way before this. It ended the first time you tried to say divorce out loud, your tongue curling around the word like you were a child learning to cuss. It ended on that one drive back from couple’s therapy, where Seokmin mumbled at a red light, I think we should stop going.

It ended the night you two slept together for the last time— how you were sick to your stomach at the thought of treating this like a Band-Aid, how Seokmin had to call it quits midway because he couldn’t stop crying. It ended a dozen different times, a dozen different ways before today.

Today, it’s just final. Today, it’s on paper, on record, made known to everyone outside you two.)

The walk back to the parking lot is heavy in its implication. You can’t decide if you want to drag your feet or if you ought to make a run for it, so you decide to match Seokmin’s pace.

And Seokmin takes his time. He fixes his shoelaces twice. He goes down the wrong corridor. He lingers; you let him.

All roads lead to the end, though, no matter how much time he tries to buy.

Seokmin’s grin is far from the smile that could rival the sun. Right now, it’s an acquisition. A kindness that no longer matters. “Any last words?” he asks as he fiddles with his car keys.

“I’m tired of being the one who sums things up,” you say. “You get the last word.”

You try to sound cheeky but you come off more sarcastic than you probably intended. And— with the way your voice quivers on words— there might also be some fear. Fear of a future, a life without the man who you once thought you’d see grey-haired and wrinkled.

(This will be your last image of him: Dark-haired, dead-eyed, putting on a front. You will not watch him develop a midlife crisis. You will not see him in his old age. The Lee Seokmin you loved and lost will always be twenty-eight in your head.)

Seokmin considers it for a moment. This impossible task. This opposite of an honor.

The last word.

“You never needed it,” he decides.

“‘It’?”

“Saving. You never needed saving.”

It’s perfect— cruelly so. Seokmin, who in his wedding vows had promised to always keep you safe. Seokmin, who was seriously upset when he first found out he wasn’t your emergency contact.

Seokmin, who thought loving you was synonymous to rescuing you.

From what, you never did know. Lonely nights? Expensive rent?

Yourself?

(Later, you will realize that his words were a callback to one of your therapy sessions. You had told your shrink something along the lines of I am not some broken thing that has to be fixed, and I don’t think he understands that. You had been so mad, so hurt; raring to be anything but your husband’s damsel in distress. And Seokmin had been so tired. So willing to give you anything you asked.)

You never needed saving, he tells you now. The words that might have changed everything—

Realistically, maybe not. It might have given you an ounce of fight. It might have kept you in place for a couple more years.

But it was all bound to end here. A Saturday, a parking lot, a final word as sweet as your favorite dessert.

You do not know if you can afford him the same grace, so you give him the next best thing.

“See you around, Seok,” you say, even though it’s unlikely.

“Yeah,” he lies just as easily. “Don’t be a stranger.”

You get into your car. He doesn’t get into his until you’ve pulled out of your parking space, and so you’re treated to the sight of him fading in the rearview.

Your husband— sorry. Your ex-husband, once larger-than-life, once the personification of love itself. Now nothing more than a story you’ll tell however you see fit.

Seokmin was always nice to you, even on the days that you didn’t deserve it. Especially on the days you didn’t deserve it.

Seven years of being together and one failed marriage later, this turns out to be the nicest thing Seokmin has done for you.

Watching you leave.

Letting you go.

#dk x reader #seokmin x reader #dokyeom x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #dk angst #seokmin angst #svt angst #seventeen angst #dk fic #seokmin fic #ylangelegy buzz x svt #(💎) page: svt #(🥡) notebook

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obsessedwhyyes · 10 months ago

Text

Chasing Lightning

Summary: You've spent all day teasing, tempting, taunting - you've really tested Astarion's patience this time. But pushing his boundaries is your favourite past time. Now, here you are, over his knee, about to receive the punishment you longed for, all according to your devious plan. Not that you'd ever admit it, of course.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2003 Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader Content: Shameless smut, bratty reader, Dom!Astarion, spanking, light BDSM elements, rough sex, PiV.

Gif by silverformymonsters on Tumblr!

A/N: This, uh... Yeah, no, this is just shameless smut. I am so sorry. Behold, my spanking fic, written in a moment of madness.

You lay over his knee, eager, anticipating - a willing sacrifice on the altar of his desires. Each trail of his fingertips across the bare skin of your backside is a promise of what is to come.

You deserve this, you think to yourself. All your teasing, all your temptations. The way you pressed yourself against him when no one was looking, your face a pretty picture of faux innocence; the way you swayed your hips as you sauntered ahead of him, glancing back to meet his eyes, knowing they would be heavy with that predatorial hunger which ignites the flames of arousal deep in your belly. All part of your plan, which he is more than willing to oblige.

You hear Astarion’s voice, dark and dripping with honey.

“I propose a game, darling. A test of your intuition, shall we say?” You hear the wicked smile in his voice and it sends shivers of sweet anticipation coursing through your body. “I'll think of a number, one through ten, and you'll have to guess it based on how hard I spank you. Guess wrong, and I'll spank you again - the same strength - until you guess correctly. Understand?”

“Yes,” you breathe, wilfully yielding to him . There’s an intoxicating power in surrender. Your submission is a choice, freely given, and that makes it all the more potent.

In yielding, you become more. More alive, more aware, more you than you've ever been. The world narrows to the point of contact where his hand meets your skin. You are the ocean, and Astarion the moon, pulling you into new shapes with the inexorable force of the tide.

“Very good,” he purrs. His thumb rubs the gentlest of circles on your wrists as he binds them behind you with his spare hand. “Of course, if it becomes too much, just say the word. I can be merciful… on occasion.”

The game begins, a dance of unseen touches and breathless anticipations. Astarion’s hand hovers above you, its presence like the charge before a lightning strike.

“Let’s start with a simple one, shall we?”

His touch against your bare arse is a whisper at first, cool fingertips ghosting across your skin. More caress than slap. You shiver, every nerve alight with anticipation.

“One,” you murmur, more exhale than voice.

Astarion’s chuckle vibrates through you, a low rumble that you feel more than hear as you bury your face into the fabric of his shirt. “Oh, my dear. We’re barely getting started.”

The next strike lands with purpose - a sharp, precise sensation that blooms across your skin. It’s not quite pain, not quite pleasure, but something exquisitely in between that draws a gasp from your lips.

“Four?” you venture.

“Warm, but not quite.”

He strikes - the same strength once more, as promised.

“Three!” you gasp, revelation and pleasure mingling in your voice.

“Good girl,” Astarion praises and gods, how those words affect you. They sink into your skin, sweeter than honey, headier than wine. You crave his approval like air, each word of praise stoking the flames of your arousal higher.

The dance continues, each strike a new verse in this poem written on your skin.

Smack.

Five is a starburst of sensation. You feel this once, twice, three times until you finally guess correctly.

Smack.

Seven lands with the force of a thunderclap, reverberating through your body and leaving you trembling in its wake.

Smack.

Nine leaves you gasping, teetering on the knife-edge between pleasure and pain. The sting melts into a deep, throbbing warmth that pulses in time with your racing heart.

With each strike, each caress, the heat builds, a delicious tension coiling tighter in your core.

Four. Two. Six. Six again. Eight.

You find yourself arching slightly into his touch, eager for more, your body's reactions beyond your control.

Then, finally, comes ten.

It cracks across your flesh like lightning splitting the night sky, a white-hot streak of sensation that sears itself into your very soul. For a moment, the world whites out, every nerve ending alight with electric sensation. You cry out as the sensations overwhelm you, the number torn from your lips. The pain is exquisite, pushing you to the very limits of your endurance.

In the aftermath, you float in a sea of endorphins, your body humming with the echoes of Astarion's touch. Each point of contact throbs in time with your racing heart, a map of exquisite sensation etched onto your inflamed skin.

His cool hand soothes over the heated skin. The contrast sends fresh shivers through you, and you moan gently in response, despite yourself. Your skin is hypersensitive, your mind a mess of exhilaration and desire, eager for more, more, more.

Through the haze of lust, Astarion's voice chimes clear. “My, my. Such enthusiasm,” he purrs. “Tell me, darling, did you spend all day dreaming of this? Because I certainly did… in excruciating detail.”

You turn on his lap to look up into his eyes, suppressing a smile. “Who, me? I would never!”

Astarion's eyebrow arches, smirking at your obvious lie. “Is that so? So the way you rubbed yourself against me all morning like a worg in heat was just a coincidence, was it?”

You can't help but giggle at his accusation, which only seems to fuel his amusement.

“Do you have any idea how long you left me aching today?”

“I'm sorry,” you pout.

“Sorry who?”

“I’m sorry, Astarion.”

You don't mean it. And he knows it.

You could be good - a sweet, obedient little thing. But to be bad - to challenge him, to tease him, to test his patience until he finally brings you to heel - why, that's just so much more fun.

“That’s better,” he coos, his voice and his praise caressing you like silk along your skin as he gazes back at you, expression equal parts warmth and something much darker - hungrier - beneath. “Cheeky little pup."

He pauses, and the air becomes heavy with anticipation.

“But I'm not done with you yet.”

He rises and shifts you in a blur of motion, bending you over the edge of the bed, leaving your face buried in the soft sheets. Suddenly, you're exposed to him, your arousal on full display, and you feel the air against your hypersensitive flesh. Yet, in this moment, there is no place you would rather be than at his mercy. You are eager, dripping with expectation.

In the midst of your lustful haze, you hear the rustling of clothes - the familiar sound of his trousers unlaced. It sends your imagination soaring. Your core aches with what is to come.

But Astarion, the cruel man he is, doesn't enter you. Not yet.

Instead, you feel the head of his cock slide maddeningly, agonisingly slowly up the slit of you. You feel him become slick with your arousal as he slides down, and back up your slit once more, just barely skimming your clit, which throbs desperately with need. Such delicate, teasing touches - enough to drive you to madness.

“Do you want it?” He purrs.

“Mmhm,” you mumble pathetically into the fabric.

“Tell me, love.”

“I want–”

He inserts himself before you finish, colliding with you with the force of planets, stealing the breath from your lungs. The union is electric, a completion so intense that it borders on painful.

His desperation is evident, at odds with the image of restraint he was attempting to conjure as he ruts into you with wild abandon. His hands are everywhere at once, desperate and searching. Your own fingers claw at the fabric of the bedsheets, mindlessly, drunk on the sensation of him.

Astarion’s hands soon settle on your hips, pulling you to him as you collide again, again, again. You aid him, pushing yourself against his hips with each thrust, needing to be closer, always closer. You move together in a frenzy, chasing that elusive peak with single-minded determination. The world beyond ceases to exist; there is only this moment, this need, this all-consuming desire.

Breaths come in ragged gasps and are punctuated by moans and whispered pleas. “More,” you beg; “please,” you exclaim, though you're not sure how he could possibly get any closer, any deeper within you.

You feel his hand slide beneath you, and you lift your hips to greet him. Your throbbing clit welcomes his expert touch as he begins to unravel you as easily as he picks locks. He rubs circles around the bud, gently, in stark contrast to his wild rutting - indicative of the tiniest threads of self-restraint which remain within him, spared only to bring you to your peak. But gods, in the heat of the moment, you are especially sensitive, and his touch quickly brings forth rippling waves of sensation which threaten to overwhelm you. Your body twitches of its own accord and you know your climax fast approaches.

Your own voice surprises you, high and desperate. Soft whimpers escape your lips, growing in intensity and frequency as the tension builds.

Behind you, Astarion's sounds are a primal counterpoint to your own. His usual smooth tones are roughened by desire, a gravelly undertone that sends shivers down your spine. Low growls rumble from his chest - they speak of a hunger barely contained.

As you both near the edge, your voices mingle and intertwine. The sounds blur together - gasps and moans, growls and whimpers. The volume rises, unchecked and unashamed. You care not who hears you now.

It is you who first reaches the point of no return. A cry escapes your lips, raw and primal. Your body quakes, and pleasure crashes over you, a torrent of sensation that drenches every nerve ending. You're swept away in the deluge, currents of bliss pulling you under, spinning you in their depths.

His release soon follows and, although you don't see him, you feel the intensity in the air, in his increasingly erratic pounding, in his breaths. A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, vibrating through your bodies like rolling thunder. His grip on you tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as he releases into you, claiming you as part of his tempest.

He collapses against your back. His weight is solid and grounding like the calm after the storm. He pants slightly, aftershocks rippling through you both like distant thunder.

Slowly, the world comes back into focus.

Astarion's weight shifts behind you as his arm drapes lazily over your wrist. You feel his cool lips brush against your ear, and he nips it gently.

“If I didn’t know any better,” he muses, “I would say you enjoy being punished.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound still slightly breathless. “If that’s what I get for misbehaving, I might have to do it more often.”

"Careful what you wish for, darling," he murmurs, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. "I have a whole arsenal of 'punishments' at my disposal. This was merely a taste."

“Is that a promise or a threat?”

“Why not both?” he replies, his tone rich with suggestion. “I do so enjoy keeping you on your toes.”

As he rises to his feet and helps you to yours, he kisses you, his gentleness a stark contrast from your earlier activities. Where there was an inferno, now there is now the warming comfort of the hearth. Where there was urgency, now there is patience. Eventually, you find yourselves settled once more, cocooned in the soft comfort of the bed. The lingering scent of your encounter mingles with the fresh smell of clean linens, a heady reminder of the night's activities.

“Alright?” Astarion’s voice is soft.

You nod, words unnecessary in this moment.

As you nestle closer to him, a contented sigh escapes your lips. Being bad certainly has its thrills. But these moments, wrapped in Astarion’s arms - these are treasures in their own right. The mischievous spark in you knows you'll seek out more opportunities to 'misbehave', but for now, you revel in this gentle aftermath, every bit as intoxicating as the storm that preceded it.

No Pressure Tags: @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @sparrowbard @chonkercatto

Masterlist can be found here.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion smut #shameless smut #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction

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finnlongman · 2 years ago

Text

When I was an undergrad, I made a point of trying to sidetrack my supervisors as much as possible during supervisions, so that we could go off on a tangent and use up half the time discussing something barely related to my essay, and therefore have less time to dwell on its flaws.

(For those unfamiliar with the Cambridge supervision system, each week you're required to write an essay about a topic you probably knew nothing about before being handed the reading list, and then you spend an hour discussing it one-on-one, or in small groups depending on the subject, with your supervisor, who may be a random PhD student or may be the person who wrote half the reading list, depending on your luck.)

Once, I'd had a particularly bad week and had not written my essay about Scandinavian settlement in England, so I was having a more discussion-based supervision drawing on some bullet points I'd written. This would have been in my first term of first year, if I remember correctly. And we were talking about reasons why Vikings might settle rather than simply raiding, and my supervisor made some comment about them wanting "somewhere to wash their socks".

Sensing a potential avenue for distraction and also genuinely curious, I immediately asked, "Did Vikings wear socks?". My supervisor took the bait, and we passed the next ten minutes discussing a sock found preserved in York, of seemingly Scandinavian make, that would appear to answer that question in the affirmative. I remember very little else from that module, but nine years down the line, I remembered that there was a Scandinavian-style sock found in York.

Anyway, today I showed up to the department's graduate presentations (compulsory) and discovered that the first of the two talks was entirely about this sock. I was honestly so pleased. I now know several more things about this sock! I have some details to pad out my vague understanding that there was something distinctive about how it was made! I have been introduced to the complex question of "did the English wear socks or were they a Scandinavian fashion?"! (Answer: there is no definitive evidence for widespread early English sock-wearing, but textile evidence is complicated, so this may not be conclusive.)

This is probably not what most people took from the "England Before The Normans" paper, but frankly, I never was any good at keeping track of kings. I would rather learn about the socks. And today -- just as in that supervision nine years ago -- I did.

#viking socks :)#history

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yuurei20 · 7 months ago

Note

how muscle is the boy and who the most buff because i think silver gym clothes is lying

Hello hello! Thank you so much for this question! I have been hoping to talk about this for so long ⚔️

There is something special about the school uniform and gym clothes cards 👀

Summary 1) Sprites do not always visually represent what is actually happening in the game 2) Yana does not have full control over what can appear as sprites 3) Yana illustrated the gym clothes and school uniform cards from start to finish by herself!

Details/Sources 1) There is sometimes a disconnect between what the sprites are doing and what is actually happening in the stories, as the limits of the medium mean that they can only portray so much.

We will be told via dialogue that what is actually happening is different from what we're seeing on screen, which is where the "novel" part of "visual novel" has to do some heavy lifting.

(above: We are told that Idia is riding Ortho, Jack has tanned and Kalim is wearing glasses, without anything represented visually.)

This is also true of Silver being unusually well-muscled, with characters referencing such repeatedly! (especially in Book 7, for spoiler-reasons that cannot be shared on this blog)

(Ortho: "Silver is also incredibly built!")

In a vignette Silver explains he was able to beat a man in an arm-wrestling contest who had successfully beaten several "burly" members of Savanaclaw:

"All of Ruggie's burly friends had tried, but each lost within seconds. At first the owner went easy on me. Worried he would hurt me, he said. But once he realized I was no pushover, he stopped holding back...It was no easy feat, but all their encouragement helped me eke out a victory."

As for how Silver can possibly be so well-muscled, he explains it is from life with Lilia:

"I've never really struggled with anything involving physical fitness...my daily life back home was training enough. Drawing river water, chopping firewood...Chasing around the animals who lived nearby must have helped strengthen my legs as well...once I stalled while climbing a sheer cliff, and (Lilia) climbed right up beside me to show me how it should be done."

2) In a tweet posted on 2020/5/12 Yana talks about submitting her idea for Crowley to be wearing a vacation outfit in Book 4, despite expecting it to be rejected.

So it seems that she does not have complete control over how the sprites look: she designs the characters but is maybe not doing the game development work of physically implementing them, and there are others who can approve of or reject her ideas based on in-game limitations.

Was a canon-accurate Silver sprite maybe one of those rejections?

Effort was even made to give Silver muscle in the 2nd anniversary PV, so it does seem to be an important point.

3) We do not know too many details about the team that is helping Yana with card illustrations but we know they have been there from the beginning, with the recently released English-version of the first visual book (called "The official art book" in English) providing translations of Yana's notes to the colorists for the ceremonial robes and labwear art.

(Above: hand-written notes seen on Kalim's labwear and ceremonial robes base art)

She also references a graphic artist in her 2020 interview for the Magical Archives:

"As for the illustrations, this was my first time having my original drawings cleaned up by a graphic artist. I am a very rough draftsman by nature, and I make overall corrections before a piece is complete. No matter how careful I am in my original drawings, sometimes details get confused, so whenever I receive a draft back from the graphic artist, I become a useless original artist who is constantly going back to say, ‘I am so sorry, but can you please make these corrections?’" - Toboso Yana (Magical Archives game guide)

But the gym clothes and school uniforms (the original batch of R cards) were different: Yana says she did them all by herself from start to finish, as they were going to be most people's first introductions to the characters.

Disney Twisted-Wonderland has been released today. ・Character design ・Main scenario creation ・Card illustration (all rarities / including finishing for the R cards) ・Supervision of personal scenarios (writing several as well) I handled everything above. I hope you enjoy it! - Toboso Yana (Twitter, 2020/5/8)

I felt that the initial R school uniforms and sportswear cards are special, as they are likely to be the first introductions to these characters, so I was in charge of them all. I am grateful to have been trusted with them. - Toboso Yana (Twitter, 2020/4/13)

So there we are! 🥳

If anything we can maybe consider the base card art for the gym clothes and school uniforms as more "canon" than the sprite designs of those same characters, even though the sprites are what we're used to seeing, as card art is not being forced to change the characters' appearances in order to fit the limitations of Live 2D sprites ⚔️ Maybe!

(The sprites have this same issue with height! In the game Epel is made taller while Malleus is made shorter, in order to fit his horns in the screen.)

#twstask #twisted wonderland

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meowmeowriley · 10 months ago

Text

Ghost had been on his phone since Soap had entered the rec room. Not unusual, he tended to read emails or news articles in his spare time. No, what was unusual was that he had his phone sideways. Occasionally tapping at the screen with a thumb. Gaming then.

The 141's resident emo was full of surprises, one being that Ghost loved video games. The man had an old Playstation 3 that might as well have been his first born, the way he adored it. If the PS3 were his first child, then his Xbox One was rebellious problem child, the way he cursed it constantly, threatening to dismantle it and use its husk as a doorstop. Something about changing constantly, and adds on startup had been his most recent rant. He swore he loved it too, but the favoritism was obvious.

Ghost would be found in his room on one of the two consoles nearly every evening. With how often Soap found him gaming, this behavior shouldn't have struck him as odd, and yet it was the first time he'd ever seen the man play anything on his phone.

"Ya winnin', Lt.?" The glare he earned for that comment had him cackling as he fixed himself a midday coffee.

Soap sat down on the sofa with Ghost and turned on the TV. Ghost continued with whatever he was doing.

Beneath his mask the man's brow was pinched, he chewed his bottom lip, and each tap of his thumb was marginally more firm than the last. Ghost was seething, then.

Soap abandoned his show and instead watched something much more entertaining; Ghost's apparent descent into madness. He huffed on occasion, shifted in his seat, hunched his shoulders, and glared daggers down at his phone, a look that could make any of the rookies on base cry and wet themselves.

Soap was delighted. After he finished his coffee he jogged back to his room and snatched his journal so he could draw Ghost having his fit, he wanted to commit it to memory.

Soap was nearly done with his sketch, though it was a bit more than a simple sketch, nearing realism with how much detail he'd poured into Ghost's stormy eyes, when Ghost spoke quietly and for the first time in nearly an hour of them sharing space. "This game is for godless heathens."

Soap nearly lost it, just barely managing to smother the laugh that bubbled forth. He coughed to hide what little escaped him, and used his hand to hide his face, scrubbing down to erase the smile that tried to give him away. "What, ah, what're you even playin', Ghost?"

"Tile Towers, on Webkinz."

Soap did lose it then. He'd seen the now ancient stuffy in Ghost's quarters, a scraggly looking leopard, but couldn't wrap his head around the man actually playing the game, let alone getting this angry over a mini game for children. He laughed so hard it hurt, tears streamed down his face, and Ghost booted him off the couch without even looking away from his phone.

***

Written by someone who recently found out that webkinz classic has a mobile app, and rediscovered their utter hatred for Tile Towers. Why do I keep playing it? It's awful, fucking stupid! And yet I keep. Going. Back. I'm also miffed that my original account has been deactivated. I've only been absent for like 13 years! Come on! 🤬

#call of duty #22 ghost and his love of older tech #my beloved headcanon #modern warfare #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #fanfic #also webkinz

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magic-shop-stories · 4 months ago

Note

Would you be able to write something ot7 based on how they would be in an arranged marriage (both consenting to the marriage but just maybe not super happy about it at first or maybe they are but are awkward or however you want to do it.) Maybe like a head cannon? I really love the ones that you’ve written. Maybe some angst, some fluff, cuteness, smut. It’s okay if you can’t. I look forward to reading your work in the future either way!

💌 Reply:

Hi there! 💜 Thank you so much for this brilliant request... OT7 arranged marriage? YES, my brain is already spinning with drama, reluctant pining, and chaotic bonding moments. I’ll dive into angsty tensions (looking at you, Yoongi), awkward fluff (Jin’s "worldwide handsome" wedding meltdowns), and eventual OT7 devotion... ahhh my head!!!. I hope you like it... it’s been a blast to write! Thank you for inspiring this chaos! 🖤

NOTE:IMPORTANT! Due to Tumblr’s persistent "processing error" (RIP my sanity), I couldn’t post the full OT7 arranged marriage headcanons in one go without the draft self-destructing, so I split it up not wanting to not post...

THIS POST = Hyung Line (Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi

Maknae Line (Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook) in extra post

Apologies for the hassle! Blame Tumblr’s coding demons, not your sleep depreeved girl that tried to get help from tumblr support for almsot three days (RIP)

LINK TO MAKNAE LINE POST

Warnings: themes of arranged/forced unions, dark political intrigue, family manipulation, heavy emotional distress/internal conflict, explicit content (light smut), subtle violence/domestic tension, corporate and academic power plays

Arranged Marriage Headcanons (AU) (Angst/Fluff/Smut Mix)

NAMJOON = RELUCTANT HEIR & HIS UNLIKELY MUSE

“You think I’m a disaster? Wait till you see my heart.”

WHY THE MARRIAGE HAPPENED

Political Context

your family owns a tech empire on the brink of collapse

Namjoon’s lineage controls a global network of libraries and academic institutions

your union merges knowledge and innovation to outmaneuver rivals

Your Reason

you agreed to protect your younger sibling from being forced into the marriage instead

Namjoon’s Reason

his father’s dying wish

“Preserve our legacy. Even if it costs you your freedom.”

THE WEDDING

= CLASH OF WORLDS

Your Attire

sleek, modern gown

holographic train (nod to your family’s tech roots)

Namjoon’s Attire

navy hanbok with a frayed hem

“It’s my grandmother’s. She… believed in love. I don’t.”

Location

library-turned-venue

books stacked into aisles

other BTS members sit in the front row:

Jin mouths “You’ll be fine!”

discreetly flipping off a scowling uncle

Yoongi mutters, “This is dystopian.”

slips you a flask of whiskey

Jungkook frowns at his tie

Hobi adjusts it for him

Jimin squeezes your hand before you walk the aisle

Taehyung sketches the scene

captioning it “Two Strangers & A Thousand Books.”

Vows

You: “I promise not to sell your books. Even the boring ones.” Namjoon: “I… promise to try not to set the lab on fire. Again.”

nervous smirk

crowd laughs awkwardly

Reception

you hide in a bathroom stall

Namjoon finds you

knees pulled to your chest

You: “This is a mistake. ”Namjoon: “Probably. But mistakes make the best footnotes.”

offers his hand

“Dance with me? The DJ’s playing Debussy.”

EARLY DAYS

= TENSION & TEA STAINS

Mansion

fusion of your tech (holographic walls, AI assistants)

his chaos (leaning bookshelves, half-dead bonsais)

First Fight

over the thermostat

You: “Why is it so low? Are you preserving yourself?!” Namjoon: “Cold air helps me think! And your robots keep judging me!”

glares at your hovering drone

Members’ Meddling

Jin “accidentally” sends you both to a couples’ spa

Namjoon gets mud-mask in his hair

you laugh for the first time in weeks

Yoongi leaves a playlist called “Songs for Idiots Who Can’t Communicate.”

Taehyung gifts a shared journal:

“Write to each other. Or draw dicks. Whatever.”

Breaking Point

Namjoon works through the night, ignoring you

you snap, throwing his Plato anthology out the window

You: “Marry your books next time!” Namjoon: “I did! But they don’t yell at me!”

Silence!!!

he mumbles then

“…But they also don’t make me want to be better.”

TURNING POINTS

= PAPERBACK ROMANCE

Storm

power outage

you find him in the dark

he's reciting Rumi to calm himself

you join in, voice shaking

he whispers: “You’re… good at this.”

Lab Incident

you collaborate on an AI project

he breaks your prototype

fixes it with a makeshift solution

it's so genius you kiss him mid-rant

Journal

you doodle a robot holding a flower

he writes back:

“Metaphor for us? Fragile, but… growing.”

INTIMACY

= NERVOUS HANDS, BURNING PAGES

First Kiss

after he quotes Pablo Neruda at 2 a.m.

you cut him off

pressing him against a bookshelf

“Poetry later.”

Namjoon: “I—I’ve never… I mean, I’ve read about….” You: “Let’s write about it instead.”

Smutty Moments

his clumsiness dissolves into precision when he’s focused

maps your body like a forgotten text

murmuring, “Here… you shiver. Why?”

lets you take control

surprises you with sudden confidence

pinning you to his desk, glasses askew

“I’m a quick study.”

he wraps you in his oversized sweater

reads Vonnegut aloud until you sleep

HOW IT ENDS

Five Years Later

you convert the mansion into a free tech/library hub for students

members visit often:

Jin teaches cooking classes

“Step one: don’t let Joon near the stove!”

Jungkook and Hobi build a VR poetry garden

Tae paints a mural of you and Namjoon

you as a warrior, him as a scholar, back-to-back

Namjoon’s Vows (Renewal Ceremony): “You were the footnote that became the whole story.” You: “And you’re the disaster I’d choose a thousand times.”

Final

chases your toddler through the library

both laughing

Jimin whispers: “Who knew Captain Chaos could be such a dad?” Yoongi: “Shut up. They’re cute.”

JIN = RELUCTANT PRINCE & HIS UNEXPECTED DUET

“You think I’m just a pretty face? Sweetheart, I’m the whole damn symphony.”

WHY THE MARRIAGE HAPPENED

Political Context

your family (old-money hotel tycoons) needed Jin’s royal-blooded lineage

= a literal prince from a dissolved monarchy

needed him to revive their global reputation

his family, in turn, craved modern wealth to fund their cultural preservation projects

Your Reason

to save your father’s empire from bankruptcy

Jin’s Reason

to protect his brother from being forced into the marriage

“He’s too soft for this shit.”

signing the contract with a flourish

“I’ll handle it. I always do.”

THE WEDDING

= SPARKLES, SARCASM, AND SECRET TEARS

Your Attire

champagne-colored gown with a 15-foot train

= your mother’s choice

feeling more like a chandelier than a bride

Jin’s Attire

custom ivory tuxedo

actual Swarovski crystals sewn into the lapels

“If I’m a pawn, I’ll be the shiniest pawn in history.”

smirks, adjusting his cufflinks

Location

historic palace ballroom

BTS members are your reluctant bridal party:

Yoongi as the “flower guy”

chucks petals like baseballs

Hobi accidentally trips the DJ’s cord

switching the march song to “Dynamite”

Jungkook spills wine on your toxic aunt

“Oops. Gravity’s a bitch.”

Namjoon gives a rambling speech about “love as a societal construct”

Jimin steals the mic

Taehyung photobombs every picture

Vows

You: “I vow not to murder you in your sleep. Even if you deserve it.” Jin: “I vow to keep my handsomeness at a manageable level… which is impossible, but I’ll try.”

crowd groans

he winks

Reception

Jin drags you onto the balcony

both suffocating from the fakeness

You: “This is hell.” Jin: “Hell has a open bar and a photo booth. Lighten up.”

plucks a rose from a centerpiece

tucking it behind your ear

“You look better when you’re not pretending to smile.”

EARLY DAYS

= EGO CLASHES & EMOTIONAL ESPRESSO MACHINES

Penthouse

luxury high-rise with floor-to-ceiling windows

Jin’s side is spotless

yours looks like a tornado hit a tech conference

First Fight

over his “no carbs after 8 PM” rule

You: “You’re not my personal trainer!” Jin: “And you’re not my wife! Oh wait...”

he freezes

you slam the door

he spends the night serenading your locked room with “Epiphany” until security is called

Members’ Meddling:

Hobi forces you both into couple’s karaoke

Jin belts “Yours” with dramatic vibrato

you accidentally harmonize

Jimin gifts matching pajamas

“Argue in style, losers.”

Yoongi sends a text

“Just bang it out. Literally.”

Breaking Point

Jin hosts a lavish dinner to impress your parents

you catch him re-plating your homemade dumplings into fancy china

You: “Why? My cooking not good enough for Prince Perfect?” Jin: “No! I just… didn’t want them to criticize you.”

his voice cracks

“I know what that feels like.”

TURNING POINTS

= FROM PAGEANTRY TO PARTNERS

Midnight Kitchen

you find him stress-baking at 3 a.m.

flour in his hair

“I… don’t know how to be real with you."

you help him fold dumplings

hands brushing

“Start here."

Scandal

Paparazzi photos of him clubbing surface

he panics

you shut it down

“We were both there. Dancing badly. Next question.”

he stares

“Why defend me?” “Because you’re mine to tease. Not theirs.”

Gift

buys you a vintage gaming console after overhearing you rant about childhood nostalgia

“I’m not trying to be sweet. It was on sale.”

INTIMACY

= VANITY MELTED INTO VULNERABILITY

First Kiss

after he wins a gaming battle

gloating: “Bow to your king.”

you yank his collar

silencing him

he melts

whispering: “Okay, you win. But I’m still prettier.”

Smutty Moments

his confidence is infuriatingly hot

undoes his shirt one button at a time

smirk never fading

“Like what you see? It’s a limited edition.”

when you trace the scar on his hip (a childhood accident), he flinches

“I don’t… show people that.”

you kiss it

“Now it’s my favorite part.”

morning after:

cooks pancakes shaped like his face

“So you never forget who’s really in charge.”

HOW IT ENDS

Five Years Later

you co-own a Michelin-starred restaurant

him in the kitchen

you handling tech

members are “taste-testers”:

Jungkook challenges Jin to eat a ghost pepper

Jin win

then cries into your shoulder

Taehyung paints a mural of Jin as a “Grecian God of Noodles.”

Yoongi invests

muttering: “Only because the kimchi pancakes are decent.”

Jin’s Vows (Renewal Ceremony)

“I used to think love was a performance. You taught me it’s… a really messy duet.”

slips a ring made from a broken crystal off his wedding tux

“Perfectly imperfect. Like us.”

You: “Still a drama king.” Jin: “And you’re still my favorite audience.”

Final

carries your toddler on his shoulders through the restaurant

both wearing mini chef hats

Jimin snaps a pic for Instagram:

“Worldwide Handsomest Appa 💜.”

YOONGI = BROKEN MAESTRO & HIS UNLIKELY SYMPHONY

“You want my heart? Dig through the rubble first.”

WHY THE MARRIAGE HAPPENED

Political Context

merger between Seoul’s oldest underground music empire (Yoongi’s family, the Min Syndicate)

your family’s cutting-edge tech conglomerate

alliance ensures dominance over rival factions trying to monopolize the city’s cultural soul

your family gets street cred

his gets financial leverage

Your Reason

to protect your startup from being crushed by corporate sharks

Yoongi’s Reason

to shield hisolder brother and girlfriend from a life of debt and danger

“He’s a pianist, not a pawn,”

Yoongi growls signing the contract

cigarette dangling from his lips

“I’ll be the villain. Always am.”

WEDDING

= SMOKE, SILENCE, AND A SCAR

Your Attire

black velvet gown with a high collar

designed to hide the mic transmitter sewn into the hem

= wedding gift from your engineers

Yoongi’s Attire

charcoal suit, no tie, sleeves rolled to his elbows

later (after unbuttoning his shirt) revealing a scar on his shoulder

when you ask about it, he snaps

“None of your business.”

Location

renovated warehouse in Mapo-gu

chains hang from the ceiling

draped with fairy lights

BTS members linger like shadows:

Jin heckles Yoongi:

“You look constipated. Smile, Your Grumpiness!”

Hobi nervously rearranges the altar candles

Jimin stops him

“Hyung, they’re not Lego.”

Taehyung scribbles lyrics on the program

Jungkook pockets a steak knife (just in case)

Namjoon gives a speech quoting Kierkegaard:

“Life isn’t a problem to be solved, but..”

Yoongi cuts him off:

“Save it, Plato.”

Vows

You: “I vow not to hack your studio. Unless you deserve it.” Yoongi: “I vow to… exist. That’s all you’re getting.”

Reception

he disappears

you find him on the rooftop, nursing a flask

staring at the scarred skyline

You: “Regretting this already?” Yoongi: “Regret implies I had a choice.”

offers the flask

Yoongi: “Whiskey?” You: “I prefer soju.” Yoongi (smirking): “Figures. You’re trouble.”

EARLY DAYS

= WAR ZONE WITH A SOUNDTRACK

Loft

concrete bunker with a studio booth, neon signs

your tech sprawled across a steel desk

his side smells like smoke and espresso

yours like solder and ambition

First Fight

over noise complaints

You: “Your bass shakes the damn walls at 3 a.m.!” Yoongi: “Your robots sound like dying cats. Fix them.”

Compromise

he produces a track titled “STFU (Sweetheart, This Frequency)”

he blasts it

you retaliate by hacking his speakers to play “Nyan Cat” on loop

Members’ Meddling

Jimin leaves a “Romance for Dummies” playlist:

Track 1: “I Need U” (acoustic)

Yoongi deletes it

you recover it

Jin sends a “Couples’ Survival Kit”

= bandaids, earplugs, and a “Worldwide Handsome” facemask

Yoongi burns the mask

Taehyung paints a mural of you both as rival superheroes

Yoongi begrudgingly hangs it in the hallway

Breaking Point

you overhear him arguing with a loan shark on the phone

“Touch my brother and I’ll end you.”

later, he works until his hands bleed

you storm in

slamming a first-aid kit on his desk

You: “You’re not a martyr. Stop acting like one.” Yoongi: “What do you care?” You (yanking his chair around): “Because I hate wasted potential. Even yours.”

TURNING POINTS

= CRACKS IN THE ARMOR

Scar Story

comes home shirtless

fresh from a fight

shoulder scar raw

you clean his wounds silently

he finally confesses

“I got it at 19. Accident, later took a knife for my brother. Worth it.”

Collab

you design a synth program for his mixtape

he grumbles: “Don’t fuck it up."

stays up with you for 48 hours

when it’s done, he mutters, “…Not bad.”

high praise

Nightmare

wakes screaming from a panic attack

you don’t ask

just hold him

he tenses

then collapses into your arms

“Don’t… tell anyone.”

INTIMACY

= ROUGH EDGES, HIDDEN TENDERNESS

First Kiss

you beat him at Mario Kart

he slams his controller

“Bullshit. You cheated.”

you lean in

“Cry about it.”

he kisses you like a man starved

all teeth and desperation

“Happy?” “Getting there.”

you smirk

Smutty Moments

his touch is intense

almost angry

bites your lip

grips your hips hard enough to bruise

when you trace his scar, he stills

whispering: “Careful. That’s… my weak spot.”

mornings after

= he’s gone before dawn

but leaves a coffee on your desk (creamer ratio perfect)

catches you humming his melody

“You… like it?”

you shrug

“It’s okay.”

he hides a smile

“Yeah. Okay.”

HOW IT ENDS

Five Years Later

you co-found SugaTech

= hybrid music-tech empire

loft is now a studio where street kids learn production

members are regulars:

Hobi teaches dance breaks

Jin judges ramen cook-offs

Jungkook films a docu-series:

“Min Yoongi: Grump with a Gold Heart.”

Yoongi threatens to sue

Namjoon hosts poetry slams

Yoongi “accidentally” plays trap beats over them

Yoongi’s Vows (Renewal Ceremony):

“I don’t believe in fate. But you? You’re a glitch in the system I can’t delete.”

You: “Still a romantic, I see.” Yoongi: “Shut up. And… thanks. For not giving up.”

Final

cradles your newborn daughter

her tiny fist gripping his pinky

Jimin coos: “Uncle Yoongi’s a softie!”

Yoongi flips him off

but kisses her forehead

“Don’t tell anyone, kid.”

J-HOPE = SUNSHINE WARRIOR & HIS SHADOWED HEART

“You want the real me? Brace yourself, it’s not all confetti and glitter.”

WHY THE MARRIAGE HAPPENED

Political Context

your family (philanthropists rebuilding war-torn regions) needed Hobi’s family

= a dynasty of cultural ambassadors

to legitimize their global outreach

his clan was drowning in debt from funding art festivals

the marriage merges hope and hustle

Your Reason

to shield your NGO from being dismantled by corrupt officials

Hobi’s Reason

to protect his family’s dance studio from foreclosure

“We'd rather die than lose it.”

signing the papers with a too-bright smile

“So… let’s dance through hell together, yeah?”

WEDDING

= PERFORMANCE WITH CRACKED MASK

Your Attire

fiery red gown with a detachable skirt

for “emergency escapes.”

you joke about it

Hobi’s Attire

gold-tailored suit, sequined gloves

shoes that click when he walks

“Gotta shine, even in the dark.”

his knuckles whiten around a stress ball

Location

renovated theater in Busan

BTS members are co-conspirators:

Jin hijacks the DJ booth

blasting “Chicken Noodle Soup” and "Super Tuna"

Yoongi mans the bar

slipping extra shots into Hobi’s lemonade

“Liquid courage”

Jimin choreographs the bridal party’s entranc

Taehyung trips

Jungkook backflips to cover it

Namjoon accidentally sets the floral arch on fire

“Symbolic… of passion?”

Vows

You: “I vow to never dull your sparkle. Even when it’s blinding.” Hobi: “I vow to… keep smiling. For both of us.”

his voice wavers

Reception

drags you into a storage closet

collapsing against the wall

You: “You’re shaking.”Hobi: “Adrenaline. I’m fine.”

he laughs, hollow

“Always fine.”

you press a hand to his chest

his heartbeat races

“…Liar.”

EARLY DAYS

= SUNSHINE STORMS

Penthouse

minimalist space splashed with neon art

his dance studio takes up half the living room

your NGO blueprints cover the kitchen table

First Fight

over his relentless optimism

You: “Stop saying ‘It’ll work out!’ when it won’t!” Hobi: “What do you want me to do? Cry? Scream? Would that make you feel better?!”

slams the door

then returns with tea

“…Sorry. Habit.”

Members’ Meddling

Jimin signs you up for salsa classes

Hobi’s grin slips when you stumble

J-Hope: “You’re… not a dancer, huh?” You: “Not everyone’s a prodigy.”

you snap

he freezes

Taehyung paints a mural of you both as sun and storm clouds

Hobi stares at it for hours.

Jin sends a “Fight Clean!” kit

= boxing gloves and herbal tea

“Hit each other safely!”

Breaking Point

you find him practicing a routine at 3 a.m.

shirt soaked, eyes bloodshot

You: “You’ll collapse.” Hobi: “I have to be perfect. For Army, for the family, for y..." You (grabbing his wrists): “For who? Me? I didn’t marry perfection. I married you.”

he crumples

TURNING POINTS

= RAINBOWS AFTER RAIN

Panic Attack

he hyperventilates before a charity gala

you drag him to a bathroom

wiping his smudged eyeliner

“Breathe. Just… be Hoseok tonight.”

Dance

teaches you a simple waltz

“Stop counting steps. Feel the music.”

you sway, foreheads touching

“See? You’re a natural.”

Truth

confesses his family’s debts

“I’m not the hero they think I am.”

you show him your NGO’s failures

“We’re both faking it. Let’s… fake it together.”

INTIMACY

= FIERY RHYTHMS, QUIET TRUTHS

First Kiss

after he wins an award for his charity work

he’s mid-speech, voice cracking

you pull him backstage and kiss him fiercely

“You don’t have to perform for me.”

Smutty Moments

his passion is electric

hands gripping your waist

hips moving like he’s choreographing your bodies

“Keep up”

he smirks, but his eyes beg "Don’t let go"

he traces your scars (physical, emotional)

“Beautiful.The cracks… they let the light in.”

catches you dancing badly to his playlist

“Cute.”

he teases you

later joining in

“But here... let me lead.”

HOW IT ENDS

Five Years Later

you co-run a community center

dance classes upstairs

crisis counseling downstairs

members are family:

Jungkook teaches parkour

Yoongi funds music therapy

Jimin and Tae host monthly “Dance Away the Pain” nights

Namjoon writes grants

Jin cooks endless kimchi stew for everyone for free

Hobi’s Vows (Renewal Ceremony)

“I used to think love was a performance. You taught me it’s… a freestyle. Messy. Real.”

slips a ring made from his familys old studio key

“Home is wherever we’re both… us.”

You: “Still cheesy.” Hobi (grinning through tears): “But you love it.”

Final

he spins your daughter in the studio

her giggles echoing

Jimin films it

Hobi posts it with “#DaddyHobi”

then immediately deletes it

he's blushing

“That stays in the vault!”

JIMIN/TAEHYUNG/JUNGKOOK in extra post

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ginovasims · 8 months ago

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MIDWEST PRINCESS LEGACY

A fifteen generation legacy challenge based on the songs from Chappell Roan’s ‘The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess’, including a bonus generation of her hit single ‘Good Luck, Babe!’. Each generation will have a different set of goals and requirements before the new heir takes over. Check out my video where I introduce the challenge in more detail: https://youtu.be/bWn7UVu-upc

Rules:

Aging must be turned on, but you can have it at any length you wish.

Each goal must be met before the new heir takes over.

NO MONEY CHEATS.

If you do this challenge, please credit me (@ginovasims).

Vague guidelines/suggestions:

Heir should be female-presenting.

Some generations require specific careers. If it is not specified, you can have any career you want. Same goes for worlds to live in.

Each generation offers two colours. You can use both of them, one of them, or neither of them, it is up to you. You can use them as much or as little as you wish as well.

Mods and custom content can be used.

The generations will offer three traits, you do not need the heir to have all three traits, but they MUST have at least TWO of them.

If you cannot add any of the required traits when the heir is a child, you are able to choose another trait and change it to the correct trait when available (either as a teen or YA). You can do this through cheats in CAS. But the same rule applies that you must have at least two of the offered traits by the time the heir is a YA.

If you do not have all of the packs required to complete the requirements for each generation, either find a similar alternative or skip that rule. But where possible, you must complete each generation requirement.

(OPTIONAL) Use the hashtag #MidwestPrincessLegacy on tweets, posts, and videos.

Recommended packs to complete all requirements: Lovestruck, Get Together, For Rent, Cottage Living, Horse Ranch, Snowy Escape, High School Years, Island Living, Get To Work, Discover University, Get Famous, City Living, Vampires, Realm of Magic, Dine Out.

Disclosure: Most of the generations are played from the perspective of the first-person narrative sung by Chappell, however generation 8 and 15 (‘My Kink Is Karma’ and ‘Good Luck, Babe!’) are written from the perspective of the person Chappell is singing about. It offered more story-telling opportunities this way and allowed the player to do more gameplay.

Thank you to Max (@maximumdino) for your help and support with this challenge, especially with the colours! You gave me ideas for generations I struggled with and helped me add depth. I really appreciate everything you did to help me get this challenge how it is now!

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THE GENERATIONS

Generation 1 - Femininomenon Well, what we really need is a femininomenon

You always thought you would find your ‘one true love’ and settle down together, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, right? You try your hand at online dating, but it never seems to work out, and you make friends with women who have similar experiences to you. You decide to band together and give up on guys, who needs them anyway? You vow to help queer sims find love that they truly deserve.

Requirements:

Go on multiple failed online dates

Start a club with close girl friends

Reach level ten of the romance consultant career

Raise a child with one/some of your girl friends

Own a rental with only sapphics for tenants

Traits: ambitious, unflirty, genius Aspiration: neighbourhood confidante Colours: hot pink and green

Generation 2 - Red Wine Supernova Baby, why don’t you come over? Red wine supernova, falling into me

Wow, who is that stunning sim who came into your life like magic? Is it lust, or love? It’s hard to tell, you’ve never felt like this about anyone else before. But there’s something about her that draws you in… You both are a little, let’s say, ‘different’ to everyone else, but that’s what makes things so interesting. The flame burns hot, and you’re not going to let it die out anytime soon.

Requirements:

Live with roommates your whole young adult life

Fall in love with a vampire lady

Befriend a rabbit

Collect all ten wands from the magical artefacts collection

Become a rank four spellcaster

Traits: lovebug, goofball, loyal Aspiration: expert nectar maker Colours: red and white

Generation 3 - After Midnight ‘Cause everything good happens after midnight

Your mum always warned you that your hot-headed nature might land you in some trouble, and that’s not all that leads you that way! You’re always down for a good time, letting loose on the dancefloor and with romantic partners. Life’s more fun when you live each day as it comes, even if that means facing some inconveniences. You’ll find a way to make things work for you, but you just can’t ever seem to escape the drama.

Requirements:

Go out clubbing every weekend

Hook up with both guys and girls you meet at the club

Have at least three fights at the club during your young adult years

Max the romance skill

Woohoo with multiple sims in one night and get pregnant not knowing who the other parent is

Traits: hot-headed, party animal, erratic Aspiration: serial romantic (bonus: drama llama as a teen) Colours: navy blue and black

Generation 4 - Coffee ‘Cause If we do coffee, it’s never just coffee

You’re the opposite of your carefree parent, you must have everything perfect, even if that means losing the one you love the most. Although, you never really seem to be able to let go of them completely. They always find a way back into your life, back into your heart. They’re your one weakness, your only downfall. But how long can you go on living this way, knowing things will never work between you both?

Requirements:

Join the barista career as a teen

Have your first date at the park

Meet your partner’s parents at a fancy restaurant

Have an on-off relationship with the same sim your whole young adult life

Develop the coffee fanatic lifestyle

Traits: romantically reserved, perfectionist, loves outdoors Aspiration: master mixologist Colour: brown and green

Generation 5 - Casual Hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell

You’re a hopeless romantic who can’t see red flags when they’re staring you in the face. Maybe you can change them? After all, their family loves you, and you love them. Your friends try to warn you, but you shrug them off, wanting to see the best in everyone. Will things ever change, or are you permanently blinded by love? If love is really what you can call this situationship…

Requirements:

Fall in love with a noncommittal sim but never become official

Become best friends with their sister

Go on holiday with their family to Sulani

Have public woohoo in five different locations

Have an explosive breakup after getting pregnant and raise the baby alone

Traits: clumsy, generous, foodie Aspiration: romantic explorer Colours: turquoise and baby blue

Generation 6 - Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl We’re leaving the planet and you can’t come

You know what you want, and you won’t let a fugly man hold you back. You’re done giving these guys chances when they can’t give you what you deserve. You have big dreams and you know who will be there to support you, and who won’t. You plan to leave this planet and explore another world without any men to bring you down. And who knows, maybe there will be a cute alien in your future…

Requirements:

Have an awful first date at a bar (bonus if it’s on a friday night with a guy who hates dancing!)

Only date girls after

Travel to Sixam

Host weekly parties

Reach level ten of the style influencer career

Traits: outgoing, high-maintenance, squeamish Aspiration: friend of the world Colours: silver and yellow (or as bright as you can make it!)

Generation 7 - HOT TO GO! Baby, do you like this beat? I made it so you’d sleep with me

You’ve always loved to dance and find it’s the best way to communicate. Who needs words when your body can paint a picture even better? And when you meet a sim who leaves you speechless, surely there’s no better way to confess your love to them than through dancing! But you can’t embarrass yourself, that would ruin every-thing, you need to make sure everything is perfect before you shoot your shot.

Requirements:

Become head cheerleader as a teen at high school

Stay single until you meet your perfect sim at a nightclub

Only develop romance with your soulmate after you’ve maxed the dancing skill

Max the DJ mixing skill

Develop the hungry for love lifestyle

Traits: active, self-assured, creative Aspiration: party animal Colours: yellow and purple

Generation 8 - My Kink Is Karma People say I’m jealous, but my kink is karma

You’re trash, and everyone knows it. But somehow, you managed to land the perfect sim, who sees past all your nastiness throughout high school. This was never going to last though, you love making sims miserable, even if it means you’re never happy yourself. When your ex becomes more successful than you ever will be, you continue to take it out on everyone around you. How long can you live like this? Will you ever redeem yourself?

Requirements:

Have a bad breakup with your high school sweetheart after living together (all red relationship)

Move back in with parents after breakup

Dye your hair at least three times after breakup

Argue with your ex who has become more successful and happy than you

Max the mischief skill

Traits: jealous, mean, self-absorbed Aspiration: villainous valentine Colours: red and orange

Generation 9 - Picture You Do you picture me like I picture you?

With a parent like yours, you’ve never been able to differentiate between what’s right and what’s wrong, everything is sort of… morally grey. So when you find an attractive sim who is way out of your league, you’re too afraid to approach them. Instead, you decide to take pictures of them… without them knowing. It’s not bad if they never find out, right? You still admire and appreciate all your other lovers though, but they’ll never be that sim.

Requirements:

Max the photography and research and debate skills

Enter the freelance fashion photographer career

Decorate your bedroom walls with photos of an attractive sim who you have no romance with

Paint portraits of all romantic interests and never sell or dispose of them

Meet your partners at the library

Traits: nosy, bookworm, socially awkward Aspiration: painter extraordinaire Colours: black and lilac

Generation 10 - Kaleidoscope It’s never just a shape alone, love is a kaleidoscope

Finding love with your childhood best friend was the most incredible thing that could happen to you. They’re your muse, your everything. Until things go wrong. The dynamic between you both shifts and things get awkward. You won’t chase them and make them stay if that’s not what they want. Instead, you reminisce over the years you had together, and you never forget them. You can’t bring yourself to get over your one and only love.

Requirements:

Date your childhood best friend

Write and sell love songs

Break up and lose all contact with your ex

Watch your ex build a new life with a new family

Buy a ranch in Chestnut Ridge and remain a single parent

Traits: music lover, loner, lazy Aspiration: musical genius Colours: purple and gold

Generation 11 - Pink Pony Club I’m gonna keep on dancing at the Pink Pony Club

You and your parent are very different, and this makes things hard for you growing up. You don’t connect with the world you grew up in. You dream of escaping the small town and starting fresh in the city. You can be who you want to be, do what you want to do, and make friends with sims who feel the same way. You never forget where you grew up, but it was never home for you. You make a new life for yourself and are so much better for it.

Requirements:

Have a pink horse growing up

Move from Chestnut Ridge to Del Sol Valley when you become a young adult

Have a difficult relationship with your mother

Reach level ten of the entertainer career

Create a club with drag queens and kings

Traits: horse lover, insider, dance machine Aspiration: leader of the pack Colours: baby pink and silver

Generation 12 - Naked In Manhattan Touch me, baby, put your lips on mine, could go to hell, but we’ll probably be fine

Everything changes for you when you find yourself crushing on a cute girl after years of bad relationships with sucky guys. What is this feeling? You can’t explain it, but you’ve never felt this way about anyone before. There’s an undeniable connection between the two of you, and you know you can’t go back to your old ways ever again. But will you and this girl ever be more than just friends?

Requirements:

Have slumber parties every weekend as a teen

Live in San Myshuno your whole young adult life

Have multiple bad relationships with guys

Get juiced and hook-up with a girl before becoming woohoo partners

Never date guys again after your self-discovery

Traits: romantic, cheerful, materialistic Aspiration: city native (bonus: slumber party animal as a child) Colours: turquoise and white

Generation 13 - California Thought I’d be cool in California, I’d make you proud

You have always dreamed of making it big, so you move in with your grandparents who live in Del Sol Valley. But things aren’t easy and you struggle making a name for yourself. You won’t give up straight away, but you can’t help but feel like something is wrong. Growing up in two cities your whole life maybe isn’t right for you. Maybe a new dream in the countryside is all you need.

Requirements:

Move to Del Sol Valley and live with grandparents as a teenager and young adult

Never complete your celebrity aspiration

Join the actor or social media career, but never surpass level six

Move to old family ranch in Chestnut Ridge as an adult and quit your job

Live the rest of your days looking after your ranch

Traits: gloomy, family-oriented, rancher Aspiration: world-famous celebrity, swap to championship rider as an adult Colours: brown and orange

Generation 14 - Guilty Pleasure I want this like a cigarette, can we drag it out and never quit?

You’re the perfect daughter, perfect student, perfect ‘good girl’. But when a not-so-perfect sim catches your eye, you can’t turn away. They challenge everything you think you know and push you to do things you never thought you were capable of. They don’t change you though, and you don’t change them. You find the perfect balance in your relationship and continue to help each other grow, keeping each other on your toes at all times.

Requirements:

Achieve A grades throughout school

Have the stereotypical ‘good girl’ image your whole life

Achieve a pristine reputation

Date someone with different traits, appearance, and lifestyle to you

Earn the opposites attract sentiment with your partner

Traits: adventurous, good, geek Aspiration: inner peace (bonus: goal-oriented as a teen) Colours: navy blue and gold

Generation 15 - Good Luck, Babe! You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

It’s hard when you don’t feel in control of your own feelings. You want to commit to a girl you love, but instead self-sabotage and refuse to admit to how you really feel. When she calls it off, you’re heartbroken. You go back to an old boyfriend who could never love you how she does and hope to find happiness with him. But years down the line, you still can’t get her out of your head. Will you ever be honest with yourself and live your true life?

Requirements:

Date a girl in secret, but never be seen in public together

Kiss lots of guys in bars

Marry a guy who you don’t love

As an adult, divorce your husband and reunite with your secret lover from years ago

Only work on your aspiration after your divorce

Traits: noncommittal, paranoid, cat lover Aspiration: soulmate Colours: baby pink and baby blue

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