#and the rest is mostly to moth here

[51-queer-frogs]

Unstable reality zone warning sign

inspired loosely be the never found warning sign and. of course. the good old office for the preservation of normalcy. it maybe could be better executed but ehhhhhhhh.

[beloveds-embrace]

☕ anon here

Hear me out. Quiet duchess with highly specialized interests that she can't shut up about. Maybe Kyle or Simon accompanies her on a walk outside and she spots a butterfly species like the black swallowtail and starts yapping happily about how the bright colors are supposed to help ward off predators or something, and how to tell the difference between male and female. And then goes on to talk about the differences between butterflies and moths, how they're all lepidopterans but vastly different, etc. And they're just absolutely SHOCKED about how much information spews out of duchess because it's the most excited anyone has ever seen her, to the point of almost concern.

It doesn't even have to be insects like that, it could be plants. Or jewelry. Gems and minerals. Or maybe even a big oral essay on her favorite character from a book series and why they're her favorite character because of XYZ intricacies. Hyper invested duchess my beloved 💖

YES YES YES YES

It had started as a quiet walk. Simon wasn’t much for conversation, and you had always been comfortable in silence. It was a mutually agreeable arrangement- one that allowed you both to enjoy the crisp morning air without the exhausting expectation of small talk.

And then you saw the butterfly.

It had fluttered past, landing delicately on a nearby shrub, its vibrant wings a striking contrast against the greenery. Without thinking, you had stepped forward, tilting your head as you observed it with growing excitement.

“Oh!”

Simon barely had a moment to register the shift before words- so many words- came spilling out of you.

“That’s a Red Admiral! You can tell by the bright orange bands along the wings- see? They’re warning colors, meant to deter predators. Some butterflies mimic toxic species for protection, but these ones are actually unpalatable to birds!”

Simon blinked.

You turned to him suddenly, eyes bright, gesturing toward the butterfly with enthusiasm he had never seen from you before.

“Did you know you can tell the difference between males and females just by looking at their forewings? Males have these little scent scales they use to attract mates- oh! And butterflies and moths, even though they’re both lepidopterans, are so different! Butterflies have clubbed antennae, while moths have feathery or filamentous ones! And their resting positions- moths keep their wings flat or tented, but butterflies close theirs!”

You were still talking- excitedly- and Simon was still staring.

Not because he wasn’t interested. No, he was listening, genuinely- but mostly because he had never seen you like this before.

Ever.

Their quiet, reserved duchess- the same woman who could sit in silence for hours, who struggled to speak even a handful of words in company- was rattling off information faster than he could process.

And you were beaming.

Simon had seen many things in his life. He had braved battlefields, faced horrors beyond reckoning. But this was entirely foreign to him.

He wasn’t sure what to do with it.

So, he did what he could.

“You like butterflies, then, Duchess?” He rumbled, still watching you as though you had sprouted wings yourself. The prettiest, loveliest of wings.

You paused, your excitement faltering slightly, as if only just realizing how much you had said. You folded your hands together, gaze lowering, a hint of shyness creeping back into your posture.

“I… yes,” you admitted, quieter now. “I like entomology in general, but butterflies are… lovely, aren’t they?”

Simon exhaled through his nose, a huff of something like amusement.

“Yeah, love,” he murmured, glancing at the butterfly still perched nearby, and then glancing right back at you. “They are.”

He didn’t need to say the rest of his words, and you pretended like you couldn’t feel the warmth creeping up your neck.

[smutmind]

More ahyeon!

MONSTER ft. Ahyeon

The countryside stretched silent and wide beyond the dusty windows. Inside, the guesthouse smelled of aged wood and dried herbs. Ahyeon stood just inside the threshold, backpack slipping off one shoulder, staring at the shadowed hallway where her host had disappeared.

She’d barely set down her bag when he returned—older, unshaven, sun-darkened skin, barefoot, and with the kind of presence that made her shrink into herself.

"You really came early," he said, voice low and amused.

"The bus wasn’t stopping again. I thought I’d wait here."

He nodded, glancing at her shoes. "City girl. You stand out here."

She tried to smile politely. "I won’t be any trouble. Just staying until classes start."

"Mm." He stepped closer. "They send you all this way just to hide you out here, huh?"

Her fingers tightened on her strap. "I’ll stay in the room mostly. I don’t take up space."

"No. You don’t."

He looked her over openly, then turned toward the hallway. "End of the hall. Last room. Come on."

The walls creaked with every step. When he opened the door, it gave with a groan. A single bed, one wooden chair, and thick light filtering through moth-bitten curtains.

Ahyeon stepped in. The air was warm, still.

"Nice and private," he said.

She nodded. "Thank you."

She turned to say something else, but he was already behind her, fingers grazing the strap of her top.

"Pretty thing like you, all alone out here. You think that’s safe?"

She stepped away. "I—My aunt said—"

He touched her wrist. "She didn’t know what you’d grow into."

Ahyeon gasped as he caught her other wrist, backing her toward the bed. Her bag dropped to the floor.

"Wait, I didn’t—This isn’t—please don’t—"

He shoved her gently onto the bed. "Stop lying. You think I don’t see how you look at me?"

"I don’t—I’m not—Please, let go!"

He yanked her top over her head, quick and practiced. Her bra followed, baring her chest to the dim light.

"Goddamn. Look at these. Soft little things—"

She covered herself. "Don’t! Please, don’t touch me like that—"

He pushed her hands aside, cupping them, thumbing her nipples until they hardened.

"Even your skin knows better than your mouth."

She winced, trying to twist away. "Why are you doing this? Stop—this isn’t right."

He leaned down, licking a slow path up one breast before sucking deep.

"You taste like fucking honey."

Her head jerked away. "You’re disgusting—get off me!"

He grinned. "And you’re tight."

She gasped as he pulled her to her knees on the floor, undoing his fly.

"No—no, I won’t! Please, stop—"

He slid her hands behind her back. "Mouth open."

"Please, I don’t want to—don’t make me do this—"

"Too late for that."

He guided himself to her lips. She turned her head, but he held her firm.

"Open up. Now."

Tears welled as she parted her lips. He slid in, slow but unrelenting. Her body tensed as he filled her mouth.

"That’s it," he muttered. "Wrap your tongue—yeah—"

She choked softly. Spit gathered at the corners of her lips. He rocked forward, deeper.

"Keep those eyes on me."

She tried. Her mascara streaked. Her breaths grew quick.

He groaned low. "Gonna cum. Take it all."

She gagged as he spilled down her throat, held there until she swallowed.

"Let me see."

She opened her mouth slowly, tongue glistening, empty.

He pulled her up roughly. "Bed. On your back."

She stumbled. "No, please, I did what you wanted—don’t do this—"

He shoved her flat.

"This is what happens when no one can hear you scream."

Her eyes widened. Outside, only the birds chirped.

"Someone—someone might come, please—"

He yanked off the rest of her clothes. Her legs trembled.

He spread them and ran his fingers over her.

"Soaked. Didn’t take long."

"That’s not true—stop lying!" she cried, voice shaking. "I’ve never... this is my first—"

He paused only a moment, then smirked. "Even better."

She gasped again as he moved closer, positioning himself.

"No, you’re too big—it won’t fit, please!" she cried, struggling.

"It’ll fit. You’ll stretch."

He pushed into her in one hard thrust.

She screamed into her arm. The bed creaked.

He grabbed her thighs. "Tightest I’ve ever had."

"Please—don’t—this isn’t what I came here for—"

He thrust deeper. "Say it again."

She sobbed. "Please stop—"

"You’re going to feel this for days."

He pounded into her, rhythm sharp, her hands slipping on the sheets.

"Even the birds know who you belong to now."

He leaned over, kissed her neck hard, biting just above the collarbone.

She turned her head, crying openly. "I hate you—I hate this—please... it hurts."

"You think anyone’s listening out here? You’re mine until I’m done."

Her body shook beneath him.

He grabbed her waist, pulled her closer. His groans deepened.

"Cum with me, baby. Now."

She sobbed harder. He drove into her one last time, hips locking. He spilled inside her with a grunt.

She went still beneath him, breath broken.

"Monster...."

[ilycosy]

❝ YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL ❞ | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing : luke castellan x reader (no parent mentioned)

summary — being the partner of luke castellan was a blessing and a curse, mostly a blessing— you had the best swordsman at camp and he was extremely loyal. a blessing really, but everyone always wanted him too. sometimes you forget that he could feel insecure too.

warnings : insecurities (relationship + scar) , petnames (baby, sweetheart, love) , hurt/comfort , luke is standoffish and implied to be mentally ill but reader loves him anyways , mentions of other ppl flirting w luke !!

aﾉn — i want to smother this man in the biggest kisses ever ... he didn't deserve anything that happened to him & he's innocent !!!! it's never said who readers parent is but they don't reside in hermes cabin :) ,,, also i made the scar worse !!!! i wish it was bigger & more gnarly everyday . enjoy !!!!

you felt burned by the sun everytime he was around, even with his stoic nature and go with the flow personality— he always seemed to burn so bright when you're around. his palms melted you everytime he pulled you into a kiss, his lips hot and slick with spit from his chewing.

his constant even tone (he'll deny when the sass slips through) never bothered you, in fact you quite enjoyed it whenever he spoke. his raspy voice telling you briefly about his day, or talking about a race him and chris had that day, even when he told you not to worry about him.

other people sure seemed to enjoy him too, boys and girls gathered around him like a moth to a flame. his glow always too bright for others not to be drawn, you always saw it— the way girls would giggle and fawn over him, whenever boys lingered around him during activities.

you never told him how it bothered you, because it wasn't really his fault— he was just too perfect.

which is why it shocked you when you began noticing the way he liked keeping the helmet on even after capture the flag, hiding his face until it was deemed inappropriate. the way he favored resting his scarred side in your neck compared to his other, even though he complained of neck pains the day before.

you can't recall when he began doing these little habits, maybe ever since he got the scar, maybe when a younger camper said it made him look scary. you didn't know, but you knew that it wasn't good for him— the way he allowed himself to ache just to hide it.

luke is a great boyfriend, he recognizes when people want something more from him— he's not afraid to distance himself from others when he notices the flirting. it doesn't make him feel good to have that spotlight when you were so much better than him, in every sense of the word.

he never knew how to tell you that he knew. how he knew that the obnoxious flirting hurt you, or how you always backed away when his friends came over.

he would always come in the morning to pick you up from your cabin, hoping that his searing kisses and warm arms could show you that he's yours— even with a disgusting face.

the scar taking up the side of his face made him curl away in disgust whenever he saw it, he completely avoided bathroom mirrors because of it. he hid away from your soft eyes at any chance he could, fearing that you'd realize just how scary it is to date something like him.

the praises eased in slowly, but surely, he almost felt winded the first time he heard it ("baby get your pretty face over here!" you had said, trying to wave him over to your table. he felt lightheaded and nauseous when he walked over.) he didn't know how to handle it.

whenever he tried to ask why you began getting so verbally affectionate, he was waved off with a small wave and shrug. "can't i compliment my boyfriend?" you had asked him with a teasing tone, he hid away under your shirt the rest of the night while he got teased.

you knew that he was confused, but you didn't really care to explain— he'd just shut down and ignore the problem if you did. and you liked complimenting him, especially when he gets flustered like he does.

calling him pretty made his cheeks go red, and he always seemed more spacey after. calling him handsome always got him smiling and hiding his face. cute? he was looking away and blushing. adorable? he scoffed and smiled. gorgeous, he rolled his eyes and flicked you with red ears.

you hadn't called him beautiful yet, waiting for the perfect moment— you'd think you were planning on proposing with how calculated you were with this.

luke hadn't been sleeping well for a while, mumbling in his sleep about nonsense you couldn't understand. stress had clearly taken its toll, and he's chewing again— his lips raw and almost always bloody from his teeth snagging at the skin.

you snuck into hermes' cabin during the night, hoping that he would be up to sneaking out or even finally getting a full night's rest. your boots made him shoot up, sweaty and eyes wide before he realizes its you.

"what're you doing here, love?" he asks in a hushed tone, not yet a whisper but close. you move closer, gently lacing your hand together with his sweaty one. "wanna sneak out?"

the question was whispered, barely audible even. but it made him stand up all the same, sweatpants and cream colored long-sleeved shirt bunched up at the arms, making him look ethereal.

"are you that needy, sweetheart?" he asks as a joke when you've successfully escaped the cabin without waking people. his eyebrows wiggling slightly, his usual stoic facade melting off him like you were a candle and he was wax.

you rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you told him no. tugging him along the camp grounds until you found the picnic blanket, the basket of food right next to it all neatly set up— it took you a whole week to convince people to help you find this stuff, a demeter kid had to weave the basket.

"ta-da!" you said, doing jazz hands as you showed him the comfortable blanket. he didn't say anything, only smiling wide as he laid down on it— he patiently waited for you to get the food out, not feeling any sort of rush as he allowed himself to relax.

you hand fed him strawberries, flicking his nose every time he tried to stick your fingers in his mouth. you admired him in the moonlight, he always looked the best at night. his radiating self was enough light for you anyways.

your fingertips gently brushed his face while he was eating, chewing a piece of cake when he felt them. your fingers making their way to his big scar, tracing the jagged edges of it along with the smooth, raised middle.

"what're you doing?" he says, his voice tight in his throat as he tried to ignore the building pit of fear in his stomach.

you hummed, caressing his face as you looked at him. his eyes focused on your nose to avoid eye contact, "you're beautiful," you whisper.

"extremely beautiful." and his face goes red, his eyes watery as his chest rises up and down in deep breaths. his hands are shaky and pulling you closer, desperate for you and your touch.

it makes you really wonder, how could he ever feel insecure when you're convinced he could be cursed by aphrodite herself, and you'd still see his face when camp visits the gods?

[mothandpidgeon]

Well Worn (Joel Miller x gn!reader)

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

Rating: M

Summary: You grapple with Joel’s death amongst his things. 

wc: 1k

Contents: grief, loss, Joel is dead, reader is (was) in an established relationship with Joel, Joel is sir not appearing in this film, sad Ellie, reader is not described but fits in Joel’s clothes 

notes: How are we all doing, folks? Bad? Me too. I used this tiny fic to just be as melodramatic as I needed because I’ve spent the past 24 hours totally wrecked. I began writing this before episode 2 but I saw in the teaser for episode 3 we’re getting Ellie in Joel’s closet so I guess I’m just working with cliches here. 

Joel screenshot in the moodboard by @iamasaddie Thanks @moonlitbirdie for reading this before I yeeted it out sorry I made you cry. 

--

The clock in tbe hall ticks so loudly, you can feel it echo off the inside of your skull. If it weren’t for the fact that Joel restored the little wooden figurines around its face, you’d rip it down right now and smash the dianty birds and berries to smithereens. Each movement of the second hand is another reminder, another moment gone by without him. 

You sit on the floor of the bedroom the two of you shared. The dresser drawers hang open like empty gaping mouths, their contents strewn about over  the quilt. All clothes waiting to be sorted. His clothes. 

You make two piles. One for things that need mending— shirts missing buttons, jeans with worn knees. The other for things that are ready to wear. It’s all done with as much detachment as you can muster, fighting the memories that bubble up as you fold each piece.

You’re not sure what inspired you to tackle this project today, still so deep in your grief. It’s something to do that isn’t just listening to the minutes move by. Maria would tell you to take as long as you need but everyone in Jackson’s grieving now and they’re busy mending the gate and replacing windows. Soon there will be newcomers with only the shirts on their backs and they’ll need something to wear. 

You used to tell Joel that very thing. 

“If you’re not going to wear a hat then give it to somebody else,” you’d say. 

“Fine. Get rid of it,” he told you, calling your bluff. 

“Just wear the damn thing!”

You empty pockets of all the things Joel left forgotten. Mostly screws and stubby pencils ground down almost to the eraser. A folded up scrap of paper with some diagram from one of the building projects, dimensions scribbled in his messy hand. It’s all rather ordinary and somehow that makes it worse. 

Tears come as the piles grow but you push on. You’re used to that by now. For the past few days you’ve done all sorts of things with hot, wet cheeks, it’s not even worth wiping them away. 

You remind yourself for the thousandth time that you ought to be grateful. The few years you’ve had with Joel were a miracle after all. What were the chances you’d both survive? Both find Jackson, find each other? You had something most people never get. And Joel wasn’t the only one that died that day. There are fresh graves for men much younger than him. Still, it doesn’t feel fair to lump your loss in with the rest. They died fighting. Joel was murdered. 

You throw shirts down onto the rug, the sleeves of Joel’s chambray button down fluttering into the heap as your vision blurs with yet another wave of anguish. Dutifully you strip each hanger and stack them away, working snaps and buttons open and then closed again. 

It’s not long before you find it– his favorite flannel shirt– and the ache in your chest ebbs again, heart straining against your ribs. The sensation is so familiar now, sometimes catching you unexpectedly, but always at a moment when you miss him most. 

You slide your arms carefully into one sleeve then the other. It hangs loose on your frame, warm as if it had just come off of his shoulders. The fabric is soft, a reminder of what life felt like— pressing your face against his broad back as you wrapped your arms around his middle. You try it now, lifting its front to your wet face one last time.

It smells like him. Musk and wood shavings, and something distinctly Joel that you can’t put your finger on. Behind your eyelids, you do your best to picture Joel as you breathe him in. The way he was, not wrapped up in a snow-soaked sheet. 

There are footsteps on the stairs and you recognize their rhythm immediately as Ellie’s. You wipe the snot from your nose on the shirt before she appears in the doorway. She takes in the scene around you but her eyes land on her shoes, red rimmed but refusing to well up again.

“What’re you doing?” she asks. Her voice has been much lower, not quite a whisper more a growl.

You want to scream at her, throw one of Joel’s work boots in her direction and shriek. Blame her, punish her for taking him away from you. Maybe not in the end but for all of those moments when his gaze clouded over as he quietly frowned out the back window towards the garage. 

But there’s another part of you that wants to hold her, to cradle Ellie in your arms and tell her that none of this is her fault, that you know your pain is nothing compared to hers. 

You’re too exhausted for either so you just sit there and stare up at her.

“I don’t know,” you say. 

It’s as honest an answer as any. You don’t have the heart to tell her that one day soon, someone else in the dining hall will be wearing Joel’s navy sweater with the patch on the elbow. You’re not even sure you have it in you to part with any of this. Not when you can still remember the way his body felt through  all of this fabric.

“I came to tell you I’m leaving,” Ellie says after a beat. “I’m going after them.”

You sigh. Tired, defeated. Oddly proud.

There’s no talking her out of it. It’s not like she’s ever been persuaded of anything in her life. But there’s a dull voice somewhere deep in the back of your brain that demands you say all of those grown up, level headed things. All those words Joel would want you to say. That it’s dangerous. That it won’t bring him back. That you don’t want to lose her too. 

You look down at the pile of clothes Joel used to fill. Socks you picked up off the floor with a sigh, t-shirts once damp with his sweat, pants you’d guide down his hips to the floor. All limp as his dead body. 

You scoop up one of Joel’s bulky sweaters and toss it to Ellie. She’s going to need it where she’s going.

“Bundle up.”

--

Thanks for reading and sorry.

Reblogs, comments, dms, and asks always welcome.

[velvetydream]

꒰ : 🥀 [ Stay - 성화 ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

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Pairing : BadBoy! Seonghwa x Fem! Reader Summary : You wanted a healthy normal relationship, he hated commitment and told you he would never change. Yet you two are drawn to each other like a moth to a flame, craving for the others warmth. Word count : 10K Genre/Warning : Angst, Comfort, Happy end, Romance, Smut(y) - Drinking, Toxic realationship, Friends with benefits, SA (not from Seonghwa), Blood a/n : Inspired by Ateez Stay cover bcs omg Seonghwa in that cover- Also please be aware that the realationship in this story is mostly very toxic and only to be seen as a work of fictional art, I don't condone behavior like that in any way! This is not supposed to represent Seonghwa in any way or form, it's a simple work of fiction!

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You swore to yourself you would never get into something with no strings attached. Romance and a healthy relationship were what you were looking for from early on, did that ever work out till now? Not really. Most relationships end before they even start, them cheating or ghosting you. Now that was the reason you told yourself you would never fall for Park Seonghwa, not like apparently everyone else. He was known for breaking hearts left and right and not being up for commitment. Despite his good looks, that scared you off, keeping your distance from him.

Now how did you end up getting to know him despite telling yourself to stay away from him? It all started with this one project in your history class.

Your best friend Yunho was sitting beside you, telling you about his weekend and how he visited this fun amusement park with his family. Listening to him till a sudden bang disrupted your conversation. In steps Park Seonghwa, followed by Choi San and Kim Hongjoong. Those three were rather known to be up to no good mostly, along with a few others like Wooyoung or Jongho. Clad in mostly black and blue clothes, a lot of leather, and Seonghwas neck adorned by a velvety chocker. He even wore some makeup, his black hair put up into a half bun, noticing even a few hickeys on his neck, probably from one of his playthings. Rolling your eyes before averting your attention to Yunho again, chatting till the professor walks in, Mingi stumbling in out of breath before he closes the door, the tall boy taking the seat beside you now.

The lesson was going rather smoothly, the troublemakers at the back only keeping to themselves this time and not bothering the rest of the class. Ears peaking up now as your professor announces a partner project, where he for once assigned the partners, making you wish to get anyone but one of those three.

"Mingi and Yunho." Both boys high-fived, before sending you an apologetic look, your name was yet to be called, same for Seonghwa and you two were one of the last people left. "Y/N and Seonghwa." Your pen slipped from your hand landing on the desk, that man can't be serious right? Looking over to Mingi and then Yunho, both not meeting your gaze, knowing full well you want to switch with them. Screw them for real. No more focused on the lesson, you were thinking of ways to get out of this project, not even noticing how your two friends already stood up and were now watching a certain black-haired man walk over to you.

"Here is my number, write me for the project~" Shriking together as you hear a whisper in your right ear, a hand putting a piece of paper in your hand and disappearing before you could even turn around to scold him for coming this close to you. Out of them all it had to be Seonghwa, you could've maybe even worked with San or Hongjoong but him? A groan leaves your lips as you get up from your seat, following the duo out of the room and to your next class.

And so your relationship with Seonghwa started, you messaged him and made out a meeting point for the project. Which was the library, for now, not wanting to invite him to your place or go to his dorm.

The dreaded day came and you were sitting in the library only problem, was you were alone. Seonghwa was already half an hour late, you already started working but grew more and more irritated the more time ticked by. Almost an hour late he finally shows up, sunglasses perched on his nose as he took a seat beside you. "You're almost an hour late, listen I also don't want to do this, but I will not be doing this alone." Looking at him now finally, you notice how his form looked somewhat sunken together and he still wore the glasses despite being inside. "Are you fucking hungover?!" Groaning at your loud voice now, he holds your stare. "Even if, I'm here and you've got no place to complain." Rolling your eyes, you start to pack your stuff together again, not going to put up with this. You would just have to ask your professor for a different partner, this was ridiculous.

"Are you really being such a bitch right now?" Standing up to follow you, was he seriously coming late and then having the audacity to call you names? "Excuse me?! You were the one to be this late and even hungover now you have the audacity to call me a bitch?! Fuck you!" Slamming the door in his face now you make your way to the gates of the school, stomping your way through the path. Not daring to even look back after you just slammed the door in his face, he would probably just get going and leave you to finish the project all on your own. "Wait up! My god, you're so difficult!" Feeling your eye start to twitch irritated, yet you didn't halt and proceeded to walk. That is until a hand on your wrist suddenly stops you.

"Okay sorry for calling you a bitch, I'm just not in a good mood. Let's meet up tomorrow? I'll be sober for real, I'll even treat you to a meal." Looking at the black-haired man in front of you skeptical now, was he really offering to treat you a dinner while working? With a short hesitation you in the end agreed, telling him your address so he could pick you up, he insisted on picking you up.

With that, your ways part and this was the first real encounter you had with Park Seonghwa. Opening the door for him into your life in a little gap.

The evening was spent preparing some stuff for the project the next day, despite Seonghwa wanting to work on this, you decided to at least start some stuff. Not knowing if you can trust his words of picking you up to work on this tomorrow.

The next day is quick to follow, you get dressed in something flowy and thin because the summer heat is unbearable any other way. Makeup was applied and while you were packing your bag for the study session, your phone started to ring, showing Seonghwas's name. Astonished that he actually showed up, he probably knows you would ask for another partner if he didn't and he needed the good grade, knowing you are a good enough student to help him with achieving this.

The moment you stepped outside your eyes bulged, you knew he drives a motorcycle but you never thought he'd pick you up like this - on top of that you never drove on a motorcycle before. "Ready to go?" Looking up at him now as you stand before him, looking over to the side of the motorcycle before a helmet was held into your view - his helmet. "Don't you need one too?" Laughing a bit at the slightly concerned tone of your voice, Seonghwa assures you that it's fine and the drive a short one. Still a bit unsure you put the helmet on and get behind him, holding onto the sides of the motorcycle making him raise his eyebrows. "Put your feet there and your arms around me, this ain't some cute little slow bicycle, don't want you falling off." Without a second thought, Seonghwa grabs your arms placing them around his waist, your red cheeks being hidden by the helmet. Never in your life had a manhandled you like this. Rough and firm, yet a certain softness to not bruise you. Gripping onto him tightly he takes off.

The drive truly was not that long as he said, it took you maybe 10 minutes to be in front of a little diner. Getting off before you, Seonghwa then holds his hand out to help you off, which you accept before giving the helmet back to him. Following him inside now, he leads you two to a booth next to a window, sitting down opposite of you. "Let's eat first and then work on this stupid project." Nodding in agreement, you still felt a bit uncomfortable talking around him. "You're not really talkative huh?" Sending a smirk your way, you avert your eyes down to the menu. He was right, he intimidated you, even though you would never admit that out loud to him. "I don't really talk to other people than my close friends." This was the closest agreement you would give him, making him hum in acknowledgment.

After giving your orders, the waitress hits on Seonghwa and he reciprocates it, which by the way made you wanna puke, you two finally started to work on your school project because the food would take a while to get to you. Lost in the text now, you don't even notice how Seonghwa often looks up to you, mustering your face. Only catching his eyes for a second when your food arrives, a little break from working on the project while you eat. It was quiet for a while, the only sounds being your cutlery against the plate and the occasional picking up and setting down your glass again.

So after finishing you two got back to work, it actually surprised you how well Seonghwa was working along, had you thought he would let you do the whole work and then get a good grade. The conversations between the two of you also getting easier while the time ticks by. Seonghwa is different in private than he is in school and different from the vibe he gives off. He normally looks so stern and intimidating, yet when you two are alone right now he is rather calm, works well, and doesn't look as rough as he normally does. "Caught your eye darling?" You didn't even notice that you had started staring at Seonghwa, looking down quickly when you started to blush, only hearing a chuckle leave his lips.

"Cat got your tongue now?" You acted as if you didn't hear him, eyes set on the paper before you, that was until you felt Seonghwas foot push against your leg, not hard or anything but a little bump to get your attention and by the way you shrieked together surprised, he got his attention and reaction. The teasing continued while you two worked on the project that day, till you finally closed your book, finished for the day, face ablaze.

"Let's get going, the waitress is eye fucking me and she ain't my type at all." Grabbing his bag now, as he leads you out of the diner and back to his motorcycle. Handing his helmet over to you again, you put it on your head before sitting down behind him again, this time holding onto his waist from the start. "Good girl, you're learning~" Avoiding his gaze now as he glances at you, holding on tight to him as he takes off. The drive back felt even shorter than to the diner, stopping before your building, Seonghwa waits for you to step down and for you to hand his helmet back. "Text me when you wanna meet up next for the project, just give me a heads up early enough so I'm not hungover." You knew he was joking right now from the way he talked, he probably didn't drink every day, and yesterday was probably just a bad day. "Sure, thank you for picking me up and inviting me to a meal." A nod was sent your way before he put his helmet on and drove off. This was a really interesting event.

In your apartment again, you write Yunho and Mingi about how your first study session with Seonghwa went, and them immediately freaking out at how he tried to flirt with you. Rolling your eyes, as you tell then he was simply joking and teasing you probably.

Going about your night routine, before laying down, thinking about the day. Planning to write Seonghwa in two days when it's Friday, maybe to meet up on Saturday or Sunday for the next session.

The days went by quickly and you found yourself writing to Seonghwa, it didn't even take him long to reply either. Agreeing to meet up on Saturday, asking to meet up at your or his place this time. Thinking for a second, you ask for his address, being too uncomfortable to invite him to your place still.

So now you were finding yourself in front of a door, written on it was the number 206, the one Seonghwa sent you. Taking a deep breath, before ringing the doorbell, it took a few seconds, but Seonghwa opened the door for you. "Hello princess, glad you found it here." After the first meet up you were a bit more used to his pet names, entering his apartment now after he opened the door more, taking your shoes off. Glancing around the apartment, it was a bit smaller than yours and more chaotic, with clothes hanging over the couch, the coffee table full of different trinkets, and a pack of cigarettes lying open. Followed him over to the couch, sitting down beside him after he patted the space beside him. "Let's get this going, we don't get forever for this project." Nodding in agreement, you pull the papers you were last working on out, laying them on the table he had cleared right now. Only the cigarettes and ashtray remained on the table.

"Bothers you if I smoke?" Shaking your head yes now, Seonghwa raises his eyebrow. "Sorry I hate the smell, makes me sick to my stomach." Chuckling for a second, Seonghwa puts the pack away again.

"So how you wanna do this? Poster? Or PowerPoint? I could make a PowerPoint." Thinking for a second, a PowerPoint would probably be the best idea. "Sure sounds like a plan, I'll prepare the papers then, so we hand in both." Seonghwa nods before it goes quiet again between the two of you, the silence this time a lot less uncomfortable than before.

"I need a break!" Seonghwa groans as he stretches his arms above his head, noticing how his shirt rides up a bit and exposes his abs. Why did he have to be built this fine? "What you say 'bout take out? I can order." Grabbing his phone to scroll through a few services you agree, ending with both of you ordering Sushi. Now that you were taking a break from writing and working, you felt how sore your hand and fingers felt, like to wiggle them a bit to relieve the pain. "Do you smoke?" Looking over to Seonghwa now, cigarette dangling between his cherry red lips, making you wonder if he uses lip tints. "Not really, tried it once, hated it, my friend smokes from time to time though." Humming as a response, he takes a drag of his cigarette, fingers holding onto the little stick as he blows out the smoke. Just now you notice the chipped blue nail polish, the silver rings adorning his fingers, and the bracelets around his wrists.

"Do you want anything to drink while we wait?" Thinking for a second, before you ask him if he has any lemon soda, chuckling while he gets up to get one from his fridge. Coming back to sit beside you, handing you the lemon soda while he opens a can of beer. It amazed you how it was the middle of the day and he was still able to drink beer. A small conversation was held between the two of you, mostly about school and grades until the food delivery interrupted you two. The food was consumed in silence again, sitting cross-legged beside each other, your knee touching his. As soon as you two finished Seonghwa threw the containers away, sitting down beside you, who had started working yet again. Though unlike you, Seonghwa remained still beside you, watching you closely and how you worked. After a while you finally feel his eyes on you, looking over at him with a questioning look.

"Tell me.. I've been wondering the whole time, have you ever made out with someone?" You really thought your eyes would fall out of the sockets by how wide they got after he asked this. Out of nowhere too? Where was this coming from? Stammering now to find an answer, it's embarrassing to admit to someone like Seonghwa that at your age you never even kissed someone. All of a sudden the whole room and your body felt as if it was on fire. "I uhm.. I-" Smirking at the way you try to form a coherent answer, he already got his answer - no you never made out with someone. "Wanna try it?" Not believing your ears, you just stare at him, Seonghwa holding your gaze the whole time, his face being so intimidating and serious about his offer.. Was this even an offer?

"I mean.. Y-Yes someday.." Your eyes were glued on your hands now, which were playing with the trim of your shirt, not being able to look into his face. "I mean like right now, wanna try? Wanna know how it feels like?" You could feel him scoot closer to you, his body heat closer to you now, as he leaned his arm behind you on the couch, trapping you a little bit, between him and the couch. "I.. I'm not sure.." Feeling his fingers softly graze your chin as he turns your face to him, his eyes cast downward to your lips, making you gulp. "Say no or I will kiss you right now." The look on his face was telling you he was serious and despite that, you just looked at him, not telling him no. Your heart thrumming heavy in your chest, being able to feel it in your throat too. Even though you're aware of his reputation, you're way too curious to kiss him, make out even, but didn't curiosity kill the cat in the end?

Before you knew it his lips were on yours, soft and slow at first. His lips were warm against yours, he tasted a bit like smoke, but not too bad actually. Reciprocating the kiss, your body was still tense from being kissed by the Park Seonghwa, on top you were unsure about your inexperience. Seonghwas hands find your waist as he with ease tugs on you and places you on his lap. One arm stays around your waist now as the other slowly glides up, grazing your chest for a split second before settling on softly holding the side of your neck, his hand big enough for his thumb to slightly rub over your jawline. The kiss was turning more intense, your own hands gliding up his chest and coming to rest on his shoulders, slightly gripping the black shirt he was wearing.

A sudden gasp left your lips when you felt his tongue glide over your lip, him taking the chance to deepen the kiss. What surprised you even more, was a warm little ball pushing against your tongue now and then, you didn't even know that he had a tongue piercing. Pulling away for a bit now to let you catch your breath, his arms pushing you closer against him as he starts to trail kisses down your neck and onto your shoulder, pulling the fabric of your top down the shoulder a bit. "S-Seonghwa.." Gasping softly when you felt him suck on your collarbone, this prone to leave a mark for sure.

"We barely made out and you look this fucked out? Now I really wanna know what you look like after getting your brain fucked out." Eyes growing wide as he says these filthy words, you also can't deny that they have an effect on you, your core slowly growing wet. "But let's call it a day for now before I make you pass out." Letting you climb off his lap now, his lips pulled into a smirk. Just now you notice the smudged color on his lips, so he wears lipstick and not tint? Wiping a finger over your own now, checking your finger and being met with the same color on Seonghwas lips. "Here let me wipe it off." Grabbing your chin again, he turns your face to him as he softly wipes away the red lipstick with a tissue. Thanking him quietly, as you gather your things together. It was already quite late so you should probably head back now. "I'll drive you back." Surprised by that offer, you still take it, more convenient than taking the train for half an hour and possibly encountering creepy people.

The rest of the evening wasn't really special, he dropped you off, telling you to write him for the next session, making you wonder if he meant the school work or something else, before taking off after you went inside your building. And this was the first intimate moment you had with Park Seonghwa.

The next few sessions went rather normal, he did occasionally flirt with you, but nothing too much.

The due date was also a bit away and you two were almost finished, that's why you two decided to not study this Saturday. Great for you, did your girl friends invite you out to the club and you agreed. Get ready in a cute short dress, a belt, some matching accessories, and high heels, which will most likely kill you later in the night. Being picked up by your friends, you all arrive at the club and get inside.

It was full, like any Saturday night, the red and blue flashing lights made you squint your eyes for a second, getting them to adjust. People were mushed together on the dance floor, most booths were full already, luckily your friend knew some of the girls in one of them, making you guys join them. Shots were ordered, and some cocktails were drunk. It was a fun evening, spending some time on the dance floor, till you feel hands grab your hips from behind. About to punch the person grabbing you, stop when you notice that it's Seonghwa. "Such a skimpy dress, trying to drive me crazy?" Looking around frantically now, your friends were all caught up with something or someone else, to even notice Seonghwa being behind you. "Didn't know you would be here." Avoiding his gaze, you feel his body and hands move to grab your wrist softly and pull you outside of the club. Letting go of your hand for a second, he pulls out the pack of cigarettes, lighting it up before blowing the smoke out, not caring about how you recently told him how feel about people smoking around you.

"So babe~ How about we catch up on that wish of mine?" His fingers hook around your belt as he pulls you flush against him. Eyes darting around frantically now, no one seems to notice with whom you're standing this close with right now. "No ones here and the ones that are, are either too drunk or don't care and just wanna smoke." His face was beside yours now, as he whispered into your ear, before softly nibbling on the shell of it. Shrieking together at this, making Seonghwa chuckle and snake his arm fully around your waist keeping you flush against himself. "So you want to or not?" Too embarrassed to talk and again out of curiosity you nod. After the short yet intense make-out session with Seonghwa, you couldn't stop thinking about him and how you want him to ravish you.

"Good let's go then, hope your friends won't miss you." Pulling you along now, he makes his way over to the parking lot and his motorcycle. "Here put this on, it's too cold to drive in a short dress like that." Shrugging off his jacket now, he hands it over to you. It was a large black leather jacket, with safety pins on it for decoration, it was huge on you but felt oddly comfortable and calming. Used to it by now, you get on behind Seonghwa and hold on tight to him so you won't fall off before he takes off to his apartment.

Upon arriving there he kicks his shoes off, before grabbing you by the waist and pushing you against the closed door now. "Last chance to back out baby, tell me do you want this?" It surprised you how much he takes value in consent, after answering him with a yes that you want this, his lips are on yours. This kiss was much more heated than the last one you shared, full of lust and emotions. Seonghwas hands were running over your body, over your thighs pushing the trim of your dress up before moving up again to threaten his fingers into your hair.

Pulling on your legs now, he pulls you up onto his hips as he starts to carry you to assuming his room. Before you knew it, your body hit a soft mattress as Seonghwa stood above you, pulling his shirt over his head, gawking at his well-built body now. Of course, you assumed he was well off, but this well? This man looked like a statue, so flawless and perfect. Moving above you again, he starts to kiss you again, as your own hands start to glide over his collarbones to his shoulders and into his hair.

And so Seonghwa gave you a night of pure pleasure and you knew, if you didn't get out soon, you'd be addicted to the pleasure, his touch, and Park Seonghwa himself. If it didn't already happen and was too late for you to escape his grip.

Sunlight was tickling your face softly, as your hand moved to try and shield you from the sun, groaning as it was no use, before turning around. Bumping into something, or rather someone, your eyes grow wide as the last night comes back to you. You slept with Park Seonghwa. Looking at the man before you now, he looked so soft asleep, moving your hand you softly push a strand of hair out of his eyes. Looking down at your body, you were wearing what you assumed was one of Seonghwas's shirts, it was huge and he probably helped you put it on in the after-bliss of last night.

Getting up carefully now, you walk to the door and out of the room to try and find the bathroom. Coming to a halt in the kitchen, when Kim Hongjoong stood before you in his sleepwear. They lived together?! Before you could turn around, he greeted you, making you shy away slightly, a quiet morning before rushing to the bathroom, hearing the man chuckle after you left. This was entirely crazy, you had slept with Seonghwa, Hongjoong knew that now, and your friends probably worried about where you went last night. Finishing your business you quietly exit the bathroom again, hoping to dash for Seonghwa's room, but the man who was sleeping a few minutes ago stood in the kitchen with Hongjoong now. His hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, no shirt on, and the hickeys you left on him on full display.

"And I thought you took off without saying goodbye~" Were his words to you when he noticed you standing in the door frame, his hand moving to softly pull you against him, his head leaning onto yours slightly. "Hongjoong made breakfast, let's eat." This was all so strange, sitting with those two at the kitchen table now and eating eggs with bacon for breakfast.

The morning continued rather calmly, you got ready to leave, and Seonghwa dropped you off at your apartment, where you immediately went to charge your phone which was empty. Upon opening your messenger, you see that probably Seonghwa sent your group chat a message to not worry and that you went home, you would scold him for going on your phone without permission, but also glad he told your friends you were safe.

Using the rest of the weekend to study for your upcoming exam, it was now Monday which meant you and Seonghwa would meet up again for the project. This time it would be at your apartment because Hongjoong had an important online meeting and needed the apartment to be quiet.

For you it was still a bit awkward to sit beside Seonghwa again after what happened just merely two days ago, he however seemed calm and normal as ever, except for the sly glances your way every now and then. "The project is due this Friday, right? You think another session should be enough to finish this?" Thinking for a second, before confirming his question, you two were almost finished, just a few touches here and there. So with no complications, Friday came around and you two-handed in your project, the teacher was seemingly surprised with how well you two worked together.

"So tomorrow a few friends of mine throw a little get-together, do you wanna come around too?" Seonghwa was pulling his bag onto his shoulder now, as he watched you with sharp eyes. Surprised at his invite, you thought he would probably not ever talk to you again as soon as you two-handed the project in. "Oh? Sure, just send me the address!" Agreeing, but after finishing he immediately declines, telling you he would pick you up like always, before leaving the room.

Mingi and Yunho who witnessed the whole conversation pulled you to them, bombarding you with questions about what that was supposed to mean and since when you and Seonghwa were this close, so with a little hesitation you told them everything that happened. Yunho was shocked, to say the least, but supported you, Mingi was terrified and worried for you.

The next evening came around rather quickly, you were getting dressed for the little party Seonghwa invited you to, waiting for him to message you that he was there, while you were still touching up your makeup. Upon receiving a message from him, you make your way downstairs and greet Seonghwa smiling. "Someone seems to be in a happy mood huh~" Pulling you closer, he softly nuzzles his nose against your cheek, pressing a kiss afterward before putting the helmet on you and helping you on. "You know the deal, hold on tightly princess, don't want you falling off~" And with that, the two of you took off.

Arriving at the party, Seonghwa guides you inside the house, it was rather big, and he told you it was one of his friend's parents house, who were away for a few weeks. It was packed full of people, inside and outside. Normally any party you go to isn't this crowded, Seonghwa noticed your discomfort and took your hand in his, guiding you outside to the bar. His hand wandering to your waist now as he waits for your drinks to be ready, while you take in your surroundings. There were a lot of faces you knew from university, but also a lot of strangers, which made you quite uncomfortable and glad that Seonghwa was by your side.

"Hwa! Didn't know you were here already!" Approaching him now was a well-dressed man, followed by Choi San. "Wooyoung! Sorry it's a bit full, I wasn't really able to say hello yet." Turning to the two men now, watching them from behind Seonghwa a bit. Both their eyes fell onto you and the interlocked hands, sending Seonghwa a smirk. After a short conversation the two leave again and Seonghwa turns around to you, apologizing for taking so long. Telling him it's fine, he grabs the two drinks and leads you to one of the little garden benches, sitting down with you and placing your glass in your hand, before leaning back and taking a sip of his own. "Enjoying yourself so far?" His dark eyes were fixated on you. The eyeshadow he was wearing complimented his eyes, he chose a dark red this time with a black, cherry lip tint. His usual leather jacket, a ripped shirt underneath, and ripped jeans where net stockings could be seen through the cuts. "It's a bit fuller than what I'm used to, but it's fine." Being honest with Seonghwa makes him raise an eyebrow, offering for you two to leave if it's too much for you, declining with a shake of your head. You didn't want to ruin the night for him.

After a while of talking, Seonghwas's hand wanders to your naked thigh, softly caressing it while talking to you, Hongjoong joins the two of you, greeting you. Glad the two were talking now, allowing you to calm down and rest a little bit. Seonghwas hand still on your thigh, you softly lean your head on his shoulders with your eyes closed, his scent of vanilla and spice coming to you.

Looking up again when you heard a lighter going off, watching Hongjoong light a cigarette before wanting to pass it to Seonghwa, who declined. "You stopped?" Raising an eyebrow at his friend now. "Only when the little princess is around~" Your eyes widen a little bit as your cheeks blush, before hiding your face in his shoulder again, making the two men chuckle.

The night continued on, Seonghwa getting you two a new drink every now and then, at some point both of you visibly tipsy. Whispering in his ear softly, brave enough to let your hand glide through his hair, to his nape, and down his spine, making him breathe out shakily. "You know, there are some guest rooms upstairs~" His face was nuzzled in your neck, placing soft kisses on your throat, sucking a few times to leave a little red spot. Even in this state, you knew you shouldn't, the first time was one time too much, and the danger of getting addicted to Seonghwa was too big. Yet you're drawn to him. Pulling him into a kiss by the collar, his hands landing on your hips. "Let's go then~" You didn't have to say more as Seonghwa already stood up, taking your hand in his and guiding you into the house and up the stairs. Searching for a free guest room, he leads you in and pushes you onto the bed after making sure the door is locked.

"So pretty and all for me~" Hovering above you now, he sits up a bit to take his jacket and shirt off, before leaning back down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. His tongue swipes along your lips and you allow him immediate entrance. His hands were running wild all over your body, pushing the short dress up, exposing your bottom and soon your chest. Moaning his name softly when his hand came in contact with your breasts. "Yes moan for me, let them know who makes you feel this good~" Whispering those words into your ear now.

And with that, Seonghwa gave you yet another night of pure bliss, waking up next to him the next morning, this time staying out beside him. Admiring his soft features that finally relaxed when asleep, not like over the days when he looked sharp and dangerous, intimidating even. Running your fingers softly through his hair, to his eyebrow which has a slit shaved into it, to his nose, over his cheeks noticing his long eyelashes, and down to his lips. "Having fun baby?" Just now noticing Seonghwa was staring at you, you retreate your hand apologizing to him. "It's fine, you looked cute all concentrated on me~" Pressing a peck on your cheek before getting up and getting dressed, still bare from last night. You were only in Seonghwas's ripped shirt, he probably put it on you after last nights events.

"Get dressed, I wanna go grab some breakfast together~" Leaving the room for a second, before coming back in a new shirt and putting his leather jacket on. Putting this dress on and Seonghwa's shirt over it, so it won't be too revealing before following him outside and down. "Wooyoung if you don't shut up, my brain is killing me and your voice isn't helping." Could be heard from downstairs, you assumed it to be Jongho from the few times you heard him talk. "How much did you even drink to be so hungover? You the heavy weight of us.." Hongjoong spoke this time, following Seonghwa into the living room shily now, slightly hiding behind him. Jongho was lying on the couch with a pillow over his eyes, San still passed out on the other one, while Hongjoong and Wooyoung sat at the bar. "Ah, good morning you two!" Hongjoong greets you with a smirk, knowing exactly what had occurred last night.

After a short chat, Seonghwa announces that you two will be leaving now to go grab some food, saying goodbye to the four men before leading you outside to his motorcycle. The drive to the diner was rather short, he led you inside and into the booth you also worked in the first time. This time he sits down beside you though instead of the opposite. It didn't take long for someone to take your orders and disappear again, making Seonghwa turn his body fully to you, hand resting on your knee. "Are you free this weekend? There is this new movie I'd like to watch." Was he asking you out on a date right now? No, he wouldn't right? "Like a.. date?" Looking questioning at him now, he chuckles lowly. "If you want it to be a date, babe, sure~" His hand found its place on your nape now, caressing and softly playing with your hair.

The food soon came and you two had a nice breakfast, Seonghwa bringing you home. And even sooner Saturday arrived, having you stand in front of your mirror wondering if your outfit is too much or not enough. This would be your first ever real date, so you were rather nervous.

Again Seonghwa picked you up, mustering you from top to bottom before smirking at you. "You look gorgeous, all for me~?" Grabbing your waist as he pulls you against himself, pushing your hair behind your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your lips. "It's not too much?" Your question made him chuckle, telling you how beautiful you look and that it wasn't too much. Arriving at the cinema, Seonghwa softly holds your hand as he leads you over to the ticket counter and then to the food stall, getting you two drinks and popcorn.

Finding the right room you two enter and sit down on your designated seats, there were a few people already, probably to be fuller in a while since it's a movie newly airing. "What shall we do after the movie?" Seonghwa was leaning his body over to you, his arm around your shoulder. "I don't know, maybe go to a cafe? Or we could just hang out at your or my place!" At that his ears peak up, he wasn't at your place yet and was rather excited to visit it. Agreeing with that immediately, the lights dimming now as he stays leaning onto you and watches the movie. Sometimes through the movie, your head starts to lean on his shoulder softly, enjoying the moment.

Sadly the movie and moments are over too soon and quickly you find yourself in front of your apartment. Opening the door and letting Seonghwa in first, he starts looking around immediately making you a bit self-conscious. It was of course clean, maybe a few things here and there, but it was still entirely different from his place. "It's so adorable." Looking around, before stopping in front of your picture wall. There were many different pictures from baby pictures to family photos and Polaroids with friends. A lot of them of Mingi, Yunho and yourself. "That's Mingi and Yunho right?" Pointing at the two men, you're surprised he actually knows their names. "Yeosang is friends with them, he wasn't at the party last time though, so you probably don't know him, he's at another school." That did surprise you, not knowing those two were friends with someone close to Seonghwa. "Though there is definitely missing something.." Looking confused over to him, before scanning the wall. Nothing was missing correct? Did he take something? "..A picture of us~" Whispering those words in your ear now as his arms move around your waist, pressing himself against you. "As soon as I have a picture of us, I'll hang it up!" Smiling brightly at him, you don't know what you're doing to Seonghwa.

The evening continues on with you two playing on your Switch, and cooking something together before watching a show together. He was lying on your chest softly, his arms holding you while focused on the television. It felt nice to be held like this.

Saying goodbye to him with a soft kiss, closing your door, and leaning against it with a big smile. Was this finally the time? Is someone serious with you?

Those thoughts should soon be destroyed though, arriving at the school in a really good mood, you walk over to Yunho and Mingi, greeting them with a big smile. Telling them hushed what happened and how happy you are, they were, of course, happy for you, yet skeptical about how serious Seonghwa is with you. Some glances were exchanged between you and Seonghwa in the class, this not going unnoticed by his friends.

"You're not really serious with her are you?" That voice was Jonghos, halting your movement of packing your things together after the class, listening closely now. "Huh? Of course not, you know I'm not up for commitment." That was Seonghwas voice now, feeling your heart drop. After all that happened, especially last weekend he says this? Was he only leading you on? Yunho who overheard everything too, tried to softly lay his hand on your shoulder, but before he was able to you darted out of the room, not able to hold the tears back for much longer. Yunho was furious, glancing over to Seonghwa who also watched you leave, his gaze meeting Yunhos now. "Asshole." Was all he muttered, before grabbing his bag and leaving the room, leaving behind a confused Mingi who just woke up from his class nap, looking around confused.

Hiding in your favorite spot to do so, under the stairs on one of the more empty sides of the university. Knees pulled up all to your chest, face buried in your knees. Of course, he wasn't serious, it was Park Seonghwa. Did you really think you were special? Your sobs were silenced now when you heard footsteps, hoping the person would leave, but soon black combat boots came into view and soon that handsome face you didn't want to see leans down to look under the stairs. "There you are, princess.." Turning your body away from him now, not trusting your voice to tell him to fuck off.

"Hey I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that.." He was sitting behind you now, his arms softly around your waist as he hugged you softly. "I'll change, for you, so please stay, don't leave me.." His face was pressed against your shoulder as he pulled you flush against him, your back pressed to his chest.

It took a while for you to calm down again, Seonghwa held you through it all, softly patting your head and kissing your hair. After a while you finally turned around, rubbing your eyes as you looked up to see Seonghwa staring at you. "I'm so sorry, I made you cry how can I make it up to you?" Warm fingers softly touching you your cheeks and brushing away the tears. "A dinner would be nice.." A soft pout was visible on your lips which made Seonghwa chuckle, pressing his lips to your forehead now. "Of course, how about you come over today and I'll cook for us? Hm? Hongjoong has work tonight." Agreeing to this, Seonghwa pulls you out from under the stairs and brings you to your next class. Saying goodbye to him before entering.

Yunho immediately rushes over to you worried, having you assure him that you're fine, sitting down beside him, touched by how worried he is for you. The day went by rather quickly, grabbing your bag and meeting up with Seonghwa in the parking lot soon.

"So what do you wanna eat?" Looking at you now as you two arrive in Seonghwas apartment. "Tteokbokki? Or we could make fried chicken!" Looking at him now, he nods getting everything out for both. The cooking process went on rather calmly, you were mostly sitting on the counter, watching Seonghwa cook, exchanging small kisses and hugs here and there. At some point you even put his hair up in a ponytail, smiling at him fondly. Soon the food was finished and you two enjoyed the self-made meal, not having one thought about the things that happened earlier.

"Do you want to stay the night?" Looking up at Seonghwa now, you two were cuddled up on the couch, some movie playing in the background. "I have nothing here to sleep over.." You would love to accept, but you neither have sleepwear nor your hygiene products. "You can wear something of mine and I still have unused toothbrushes." Pondering over his offer a bit, before nodding and accepting.

So the evening went on, you two continuing to watch the movie, before getting ready for bed. Finding yourself in the bathroom alone, looking into the mirror, Seonghwas shirt hanging loosely off of your frame. Brushing your teeth before joining Seonghwa in his room. He was already ready for bed, lying down with a book in his hands, glancing up at you when he heard you enter the room. Laying down beside Seonghwa now, your arm moving around his waist as your head comes to rest on his chest, resulting in Seonghwa laying down his book. "So cuddly~ Are you tired?" Nodding as an answer, your eyes dropping closed, listening to him breathe softly, his chest raising, while his arms go around you. Feeling him press a kiss onto the crown of your head. Not even realizing when you fell asleep.

The next morning your back was turned to Seonghwa, his arms holding onto you tightly, his face nuzzled in your neck. Smiling softly when you looked over to his sleeping face, softly running your hand through his hair and pressing a kiss to his cheek, feeling him slowly stir awake. "Morning~" His voice was raspy and deep this morning making you giggle, watching his sleep drowsy self cuddle closer to you. "We have to get up, school is starting soon." Making him groan softly, shaking his head as he hides his face more in your neck, turning you onto your back to lay on you.

So with Seonghwa not wanting to get up, you two stayed put cuddling and skipping the first lesson of school, arriving for the next class then. Walking into the class you walk over to Mingi, sending Seonghwa a soft smile before sitting down. "You skipped school? With Seonghwa?" Whispering over to you shocked now, you look to the side a bit before nodding, this was the first time you actually did anything like that.

The day then goes on, meeting up with Yunho for lunch and then going to class together then.

"By the way, a new club opened this weekend and maybe we could go? It's been a while since we went." Yunho suggests to the two of you, looking at Mingi before nodding with a smile. It's truly been a while since you three went out together, so you were rather hyped. Telling Seonghwa later that day that you're busy on Saturday with Mingi and Yunho, but that you two could meet up on Sunday which he agreed on. The rest of the week goes by rather quickly, with some time spent with Seonghwa, and one evening with Mingi, and now you're finding yourself beside Yunho in his car, Mingi in the back.

Arriving at the club, a lot of people were already near it, the music from inside was loud and the lights peaking through the door whenever someone went inside. Exiting the car together, the three of you enter the club, thick air hitting your face from how many people are there. Following your friends over to the bar, ordering a drink for now, and looking around, it was full, it was amazing to you how there could even be more people inside still. Your eye notices the orange hair of Hongjoong in a booth, was Seonghwa here too? But before you could look around for him, Mingi dragged you to the dance floor, Yunho watching you two with a smile.

The evening went on, enjoying yourself with Mingi on the dance floor, even Yunho joining you two from time to time, before sitting down at the bar again to drink something with your two boys. Not being able to help yourself but look around the room for Seonghwa again, eyes meeting the ones of San for a second, which go wide from the shock that you're there, before they lock onto Seonghwa, your heart dropping in your chest. On his lap was some girl, sucking his face off, his hands all over her. Without a second thought, you stand up and rush out of the door, Mingi and Yunho are in the bathroom right now, walking off to the side outside a bit, before you lean over and empty your stomach in a bin. Suddenly feeling someone holding your hair back, not being able to glance at them as your stomach decides to empty out all the expensive alcohol.

"It's okay, you're fine.." The deep voice calmed you down a bit, a soft hand rubbing over your back. Standing up again finally, a bit wobbly on your feet, San softly holding your arm as he leads you over to a bench, sitting down beside you. "Do you want some water?" Shaking your head no, your eyes staring down at your feet now, why was this happening? After all that happened, you really thought this could be something serious, that Seonghwa felt something for you. But apparently, you were nothing more than a plaything for him. "He's an idiot, he's drunk out of his head.. He drank too much after seeing you with Yunho today.. It's not an excuse but, I believe he truly likes you.." San was such a nice person, trying to calm you down, holding your hair, and now trying to explain the situation to you. Tears were pricking at your eyes now, a soft sob leaving your lips, before your tears could even escape, San pulled you onto his shoulder for you to cry. "It's okay, you're safe, cry as much as you need." Sans's hand was softly rubbing up and down your back, as he leaned back and stared up into the starry night sky.

After a good half an hour, Yunho and Mingi join you outside, Yunho squatting down in front of you, his hands softly resting on your knees. "Hey beautiful, Hongjoong told me what happened, wanna go home?" Your eyes cast down again, looking at Yunhos hands, noticing the blood on his knuckles, but not questioning anything about it as you nod. You wanted nothing more than to get home and cry into your pillow, which would probably still smell like Seonghwa after the last time he slept over.

Yunho softly helped you up, thanking San for his help who just nodded, also noticed the blood on his knuckles, as he watched you leave with Yunho and Mingi. Before he could join his group inside again after watching you drive off, his friends came outside, Seonghwa leaning onto Hongjoong, an ice pack held against his jaw. "Good job, you fucked up with the only girl that felt something for you other than wanting to fuck you, seriously get a grin Hwa, I'm disappointed." San was someone who hated when people played with others' feelings like that, that's also why he immediately rushed after you when you went outside, the reason he stayed with you, and the reason he now walks in the other direction of his friends.

Yunho and Mingi just dropped you off at your place, telling them to go home and that you would be fine, watching them drive off before going into your apartment. Closing the door behind you, as you slide down the door, not even bothering to turn the lights on. Legs pulled up to your chest as you hid your face in your knees, the position and situation oh so familiar. Your body does not even have enough energy anymore to stand up and move to your bed or even couch, resulting in you falling asleep on the floor and waking up with a headache and back pain the next day.

Look around a bit as you sit up, rubbing over your eyes as you slowly stand up, walking over to your kitchen to grab a glass of water before sitting down on your couch, the events of last night resurfacing again making tears well up again in your eyes. This all felt so surreal, Seonghwa acted so sweet and loving once and act like an asshole the next. The day went on with you crying, eating ice cream, crying, and watching a comfort movie. Till your phone lights up, one of your girlfriends messaging you, Soyeon telling you that Yunho told her what had happened. She was one of the closest female friends you had and Yunho probably thought you just needed some female support right now, not being mad at him for telling her.

You want to answer her, but the next moment a knock at the door makes you look up. Walking over to open, seeing Soyeon and Yuqi together, bags in their hands as they hug you tightly. "You know fuck that guy, we'll doll you up and go out. No disgusting club, but this high-end lounge!" Soyeon pushes you into the bathroom, telling you to take a shower. Sighing a bit, despite not being in the mood, you appreciate it and do as they tell you. Coming out again they sit you down on your couch, getting started on your makeup, hair, and nails, turning you prettier than you felt in a while.

So soon you found yourself in Soyeons car, on the way to that longue they were talking about, short yet modern dress on your body, your hair and makeup done beautifully. Inside you three get shown to a booth, sitting down as you scan through the menu of drinks, ordering your favorite beverage. The evening goes by smoothly, you are enjoying yourself, even getting up to dance with one of the girls now and then. It was an entirely different setting than the club last night and you had to admit you enjoyed this so much more. It was more comfortable and enjoyable.

That was until you decided to go up to the bar to get another drink, Soyeon and Yuqi were on the dancefloor right now. When you suddenly feel someone lay a hand on your waist, turn around to push the hand away. "Excuse me, could you please not touch me?" The man in front of you was dressed rather well, but oh damn was he ugly. "Oh come on babe, don't be like that~ I could show you some good time hm? Can even pay you~" He grabbed your waist now, pulling you against himself which made you so disgusted, this didn't feel like when Seonghwa did it, Seonghwa was soft yet dominant, this man was simply a pervert and disgusting. "Let go! Leave me alone!" Trying to push the man away, you looked around behind the counter but the bartender was nowhere to be seen until you felt the man let you crash into the bar before falling to the floor.

"Listen when my girl tells you to leave her alone." Before you could even look at the man beside you he spoke up, Seonghwas voice echoing through the longue, the man stood up again ready to punch Seonghwa back, who quickly pushed you behind him and landed another hit on the man's face. Landing a kick to his chin when he was on the floor, before turning to you, grabbing your hand, and dragging you to the exit. And even further outside, Seonghwa didn't let go and pulled you even further away from the longue.

"Seonghwa you're hurting me! Let go!" Trying to pull your wrist away, trying to stop him. He finally stops making you almost crush into his back. "What's gotten into you?! First, you say we aren't serious, then you screw around with some bitch yesterday and now you beat someone up and pull me away?! Explain it!" He wasn't looking at you, probably trying to find his words. By now the makeup Yuqi so carefully put onto you was being washed off by your tears. Tears of confusion, anger, and sadness. "I have no way to excuse The first thing I know this is that, I saw you and Yunho so close yesterday. I got drunk and wasn't thinking straight, then I saw this asshole touch you right now. I'm sorry.." Seonghwa finally turned to you, meeting your eyes, hesitatingly reaching out to wipe the tears away, scared you would pull away and leave him for good. Your eyes move to his hand, grabbing it softly and analyzing it, seeing the second time in two days that someone's knuckles bleed.

"Why do you have to be so confusing? I.. I though we could be something more, something serious.." Your fingers softly rub over the back of his hand, looking up at him now, eyes blurry from tears, seeing the bruise on his jaw and just a little bit you thank Yunho and think Seonghwa deserves it. "I'm not used to commitment, I never had a serious relationship and.. I. scared, I know I'm not good enough but.. please give me one last chance." Tears were building up in his eyes now and you're pretty sure, you're the first one to see Seonghwa cry. Your hand reaches up to his face softly, brushing the tears away. "One last chance, if you screw over again I'll leave.." His eyes widen, probably not thinking you would give him one last chance, nodding now as sobs leave his lips, his arm reaching out to you and pulling you against him as he cries his heart out, same as you, tears running freely. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..I love you.." You two simply hold each other tightly under the night sky.

"Wooyoung shut up!" Hongjoong put down the popcorn on the table as he scolded the young man, who just points his tongue at him, making the older one wonder if he was an adult or a child. "He won't change, we just gotta accept that." Mingi laughs as he settles down beside San and Yeosang, grabbing a handful of candy from the bowl on Sans's lap. "And that's why we love him." You giggle, making Seonghwa let out a gasp. "I thought you only loved me!" Looking over at your boyfriend now, as Yunho stands behind him and laughs. "She loves all of us, gets used to it." Running away to the couch to Mingi before Seonghwa could hit him for his words.

"He's right but. I love you the most~" Pulling him down for a soft kiss, hearing some gagging noise of San and Wooyoung from the couch. After sitting down with Seonghwa, Hongjoong turns to the two of you. "By the way, it's your third anniversary soon isn't it? Have you two planned something?" Looking over to Seonghwa now, you two haven't talked about any plans yet, but he just smirked at you. "Maybe I booked us a two-week trip to Paris~" Looking at him shocked now, he didn't right? Seonghwa did earn enough now after university with his job to do this, but you didn't think he actually would. "You didn't right?" He just smiled at you, as you threw your arms around him and planted kisses all over his face, telling him how excited you are to go there together. Not knowing the small velvet box sitting on his nightstand was also ready to be taken there.

[dumbgoondog]

Jealous Much?(p4)

Cw/Tw- possessiveness, threats, implied murder

Tags- GN!Reader, Pre-established relationship

Ft. Jogo, Uraume, Ijichi, and Todo

First chunk is exposition, then it’s the boys. What happens when your man sees you being flirted with?

PRELUDE

When a guy slides up next to you at the bar, grinning like he’d just won the lottery, you didn’t immediately brush him off. Mostly because he wasn’t annoying—yet—and partly because you were curious to see how far he'd go before he took the hint.

“Did it hurt?” he asked, eyes gleaming with anticipation.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“When you fell from heaven,” he clarified, finger-gunning with zero irony. You actually laughed—not with him, more at him, but he didn’t seem to notice the difference.

“Wow,” you mused. “That’s vintage. Do you dust that one off for special occasions?”

He chuckled like you were flirting back. “Only when I see someone who makes it worth it.”

You rested your elbow on the bar and gave him a look, still smiling. He wasn’t threatening, just... kind of ridiculous. He probably meant well. Or maybe he was just drunk enough to think he stood a chance. Either way, it was easier to play along with a few sarcastic quips than to go full shutdown mode. You figured he’d get bored eventually… He didn’t.

“I’m serious,” he went on. “You’ve got this whole mysterious vibe. Like... someone with stories. I could listen to you talk all night.”

“You don’t even know my name.”

“Then tell me.”

You tapped your fingers on your glass, swirling the last bit of your drink. “That’s usually how conversations go, huh? I tell you my name, then what? You try to guess my favorite color?”

“Let me guess—black,” he said confidently, eyes flicking to your outfit.

You snorted. “Wow. You cracked the code.”

He leaned in a little closer, clearly not getting the hint—or maybe refusing to. “You’ve got a great laugh, y’know that?”

You smile and roll your eyes, your boyfriend should have been here by now, and glancing to the clock? Oh he should’ve been here 10 minutes ago! Where is that-

JOGO

A dense, invisible pulse of heat that rolled across the room like a thunderhead. Not enough to scorch, but enough to make your skin tingle. You didn’t turn. You didn’t have to.

Behind you, the low-grade sorcerer’s bravado flickered. He stiffened, head turning slowly like he knew something ancient and pissed off had just walked in.

“Didn’t realize gnats could talk,” came the voice—low, volcanic, rough around the edges. Jogo.

You smiled, and finally looked over your shoulder. There he was.

Your furnace in humanoid form, eyes smoldering, posture loose but predatory. Smoke flickered lazily from the crest of his head, not aggressive—yet. Just a warning.

The sorcerer at your side paled.

“Can I help you?” he managed, voice cracking.

Jogo didn’t acknowledge him. His gaze was already on you.

“You alright, firefly?”

You leaned against the bar with a casual tilt, letting him look. “Took you long enough.”

“You act like you’re not the one lighting up the entire damn city,” he muttered, stepping closer. His heat curled around you instinctively, like a protective shroud. “Hard to walk into a room without every moth throwing itself at you.”

The sorcerer tried to recover. “Hey—look, I didn’t realize they were taken.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not an object.”

“You’re mine,” Jogo growled. “That’s different.”

Your heart shouldn’t still stutter when he said shit like that. But it did. Because it wasn’t just possessiveness—it was need, blazing and raw.

The sorcerer lifted his hands in retreat. “Okay, okay. Message received.”

“You sure?” Jogo asked, tilting his head. Flames licked higher from his head. “Because I’m happy to burn it into you if it didn’t stick.”

You stood then, slipping away from the bar and toward him—because he was the gravity in the room. He always had been.

You placed your hand against his chest, right over the soft orange glow beneath his skin. “Let it go,” you murmured, voice low. “He’s not worth your fire.”

He didn’t move. For a second, you thought he might actually roast the guy anyway. But then he exhaled—and the heat dimmed. Not gone. Never gone. Just redirected.

“All of them,” Jogo muttered, as the man beat a hasty retreat. “Every goddamn time. Like they’ve never seen a spark before.”

You raised a brow. “Is this jealousy I’m sensing?”

“No,” he said. “It’s about nerve. And the fact that I can’t incinerate every idiot who thinks you’re unclaimed.”

“I thought you liked when I got attention.”

“I like when you get attention from me.” He leaned down, his mouth grazing just beside your ear. “I like when you get flustered firefly.”

You swallowed thickly. “Then maybe stop showing up late.”

He squints, giving lip. “I said I’d meet you at 9:30.”

“It’s 9:43.”

“I had to make a sorcerer scream on my way here. Romantic, right?”

You huffed a laugh, leaning into him slightly. “You’ve got a twisted idea of romance.”

“I lit their eyebrows on fire in the shape of a heart,” he deadpanned. “It was symbolic.”

You bit your lip, half-annoyed and half in love. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“No,” Jogo said, his hand finding your waist, his thumb brushing just above your hip. “I’m lucky you see me.”

You blinked. That… was new. Not the heat. Not the teasing. But that crack in the armor.

You looked up at him—truly looked—and his eye was softer now. Still blazing, still intense, but not angry. Just… happy. For you. For all of this.

And for once, he wasn’t rushing to devour. He was just holding it.

The heat between you rose, slow and steady. The world around you melted into a blur of shadows and neon.

“Take me somewhere,” you said quietly. “Somewhere we don’t have to be careful.”

His mouth curved into something crooked and fond. “I know just the place.”

You left together, the bar sighing in relief behind you.

URAUME

The temperature dropped.

Not drastically. Not instantly. Just enough to notice. A whisper of wind that didn’t belong, the kind that made the hairs on your arms stand up. The kind that said you were no longer alone.

The sorcerer didn’t seem to feel it right away.

But you did.

A presence behind you—cold, smooth, patient. And furious.

“I believe,” came the voice—sharp and dangerous like cracked glass, “you were just leaving.”

The sorcerer blinked. Looked over your shoulder. And paled.

Uraume stood there, expression unreadable, eyes calm in that way that meant someone was seconds from dying. Their posture was immaculate, hands folded neatly at their sides, as if they were politely waiting for the trash to take itself out.

“I—I didn’t know they were—”

Uraume didn’t even look at you. Their eyes stayed locked on the sorcerer like they were mentally calculating the cleanest way to unspool his insides. “You didn’t ask. You assumed. That’s worse.”

The guy raised his hands, backpedaling. “Look, I didn’t mean anything by it. We were just talking—”

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” they snapped. “You weren’t talking. You were pawing.”

You stood slowly, stepping aside just enough to give them room. Uraume brushed past you, never touching, but their presence grazed your skin like frostbite.

“I suggest you go,” they continued, “before I forget I’m trying to stay unnoticed tonight.”

The sorcerer went. Fast. You didn’t even watch. You were already watching them.

Uraume didn’t speak right away. They exhaled, slow and controlled, eyes flicking to your drink. “You let him talk to you for too long.”

You arched a brow. “I didn’t let him. I just didn’t care enough to vaporize him.”

“That is not a standard I approve of.”

You smirked. “What, jealous?”

They finally looked at you. Their eyes were like twin daggers—sharp, discerning, and cold enough to freeze fire.

“I am territorial,” they said flatly. “There’s a difference.”

You moved a little closer, just to test the waters. “So dramatic.”

They didn’t step back.

“If I am,” they murmured, “you made me that way.”

You studied them—perfect posture, expression carved out of ice, yet beneath it all… the tension in their jaw. The flare of cursed energy still humming under the surface. They hated being in public. Hated being seen with you in vulnerable moments. But they were here anyway.

“You could’ve just frozen his mouth shut,” you offered. “Quick. Clean.”

“I considered it.”

“Didn’t want to waste the energy?”

“I didn’t want to waste time. My time.” Their voice dropped an octave. “I have no patience for insects who forget what they’re beneath.”

Your chest twisted a little. Not fear. Something deeper. You’d never been scared of Uraume.

You were drawn to them. The chill in their presence, the razor-thin line between affection and violence. And how, for all their elegance, they still chose to be seen with you.

“You’re glaring.”

“I am ensuring your safety.”

“I’m capable of—”

“I know,” they interrupted sharply. Then softer: “But tonight is supposed to be for us.”

Silence settled.

You stepped closer, just slightly, enough to feel the temperature dip again. Their eyes stayed locked on yours, cool and steady, you reach and take their hand.

Not for others to see.

Just for you and them.

And that touch? It was the warmest place here.

KIYOTAKA IJICHI

“Ah... excuse me,” came the quiet voice, slightly breathless but clear. “Sorry to interrupt.”

You turned, relief sparking the second you saw him.

Ijichi.

Hair slightly wind-tossed from the night air, suit neat but not perfect. He looked nervous — not because of you, but because of the scene. He hated confrontation. But he’d come anyway.

You offered him a soft smile. “Hey. You’re right on time.”

“Sorry I—uh—had to park a little farther than usual. The... the lot was full.” He hesitated, then gently placed a hand on the back of your chair. Not forceful. Just present.

The other sorcerer glanced between you. “Oh. You two know each other?”

You could practically see Ijichi’s thoughts racing behind his glasses. He didn’t want to make a scene. But he also wasn’t about to leave you sitting here with some guy breathing beer fumes into your face.

So instead of answering the question, he reached out — slow, deliberate — and picked up your glass.

“This yours?” he asked softly.

You nodded. He handed it to you, fingers brushing yours just slightly. Then, in a move so casual you almost missed it, he rested his hand at the small of your back. Light. Barely noticeable. But firm.

You saw the other sorcerer clock it.

Ijichi didn’t say anything. Just looked politely at the man and offered a slight bow of his head. “Apologies. We had plans.”

The tone was extremely civil.

The message was extremely clear.

“Oh,” the sorcerer said, blinking. “Right. Got it.”

He left.

Not immediately. But soon enough that the silence afterward felt like air returning to the room.

Ijichi exhaled.

You glanced at him. “You hate doing that.”

“I really do,” he said. “But I hate watching someone make you uncomfortable more.”

You smiled, touched. “So you decided to... assert yourself by handing me a drink and gently standing too close?”

He flushed faintly. “I thought it would be... diplomatic.”

You leaned in and kissed his cheek. He blinked, eyes wide behind his glasses.

“That was diplomatic,” you teased.

He looked away, flustered but happy. His hand hadn’t moved from your back.

“You didn’t have to come early,” you said gently.

“I wanted to,” he murmured. “I always want to. Just... sometimes takes me a while to get there.”

You laced your fingers through his under the table.

He squeezed back.

And that, you thought, was Ijichi. Quiet, careful, but steady. The kind of warmth that didn’t blaze or chill, but stayed — even when it scared him.

AOI TODO

CLAP.

You blinked.

The guy was suddenly gone.

In his place, Aoi Todo sat across from you, legs spread wide, hands clasped on the table like he’d always been there. Meanwhile, the sorcerer now stood all the way at the bar entrance, blinking in confusion like he’d just been mugged by teleportation.

Todo grinned at you, sharp and wolfish. “Miss me, babe?”

You sighed, but your smile betrayed you. “Show-off.”

He leaned in, elbows braced, his body language screaming this seat is taken and so is the person across from me.

“I sensed,” he said, “that a low-grade cretin was invading my beloved’s personal space. Naturally, I had no choice but to intervene.”

You gave him a long look. “So you swapped seats with him instead of just walking over like a normal person?”

“I am not normal,” Todo said proudly, gesturing at himself. “I am exceptional.”

At the bar, the sorcerer staggered forward. “What the hell just—?!”

Todo raised one massive hand and snapped. “No.”

The man stopped mid-step.

Todo didn’t even look at him. His attention was fully on you, now leaning one arm on the table so he could drop his voice slightly. “Are you alright?”

“I wasn’t in danger,” you said with a smirk. “Just bored.”

Todo leaned closer, eyes flashing. “Then let me entertain you.”

You rolled your eyes — but he took your hand across the table and brought it to his lips, gently. For all his volume, his touch was surprisingly tender when it came to you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you murmured.

“I am,” he said, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “And I am yours. Don’t forget it.”

From behind you, the sorcerer finally found his voice again. “You can’t just teleport people without—!”

CLAP.

He was gone again.

This time, he landed outside the bar. Through the window, you could see him stumble into the sidewalk with a loud “What the—?!”

Todo exhaled with satisfaction and cracked his neck.

“You’re going to get a ban,” you warned.

“They should thank me,” he replied. “I am improving the view.”

You laughed, unable to help it. “Are you jealous?”

“I’m attentive,” Todo corrected. “I know what I have. And I won’t let anyone — anyone — mistake you for unclaimed. You are a person of strength, brilliance, and unmatched taste.” He raised a brow. “After all… you chose me.”

You leaned across the table, brushing your fingers through his bangs just to make him flinch. “Yeah. I did.”

He smirked. “Boogie Woogie wasn’t the only reason I won tonight.”

[danieyells]

@2flowerz also asked for Lyca so

NOW WITH 100% MORE DOGGO LYCA. HE IS DEFINITELY A HUMAN AND NOT A WEREWOLF. He is trying very hard to be a human. I love him very much. . . .

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"...You again. Where're we going today?"

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Hey, you got letters. Don't you have to read them? Oh, don't you know how?"

he understands if you can't read, man. neither can he.

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"You smell sweeter than usual today... Stop. Go away."

after learning that the pc is going to turn into the anomaly that cursed them any sort of 'you smell nicer than normal' feels like such a threat lmao

"You want to touch me? Fine. Ten seconds and that's it."

that is more than enough my good sir

"When I find Neros, I wanna prove I've been getting along with humans. Then he'll definitely let me live with him."

considering he related the term 'neglect play' to what Neros did to him. . .I'm not so sure. . .and if Neros was as old as he sounds like he was, I wonder if he's even still alive. . . .

"Hey! Moth-eaten Casanova! Where'd you go? I'm gonna show you my special move today."

"special move" in Japanese is 「必殺技」 or 'lethal move'/'killer technique', usually unique to a person or fighting style. Not sure if he wants to show Ed how cool he is or try and kill him lmao--

"This phone thingy they gave me keeps making noises and making me jump... Why do I gotta carry it everywhere? It's scary!"

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"Mnn... Let me sleep... Don't touch me... Zzz..."

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Laws, school regulations, anomalous law... Manners, morals, rules... How're you s'posed to remember all that?"

man i wish i could tell you. . .i've mostly got the morals in order, that's basically just 'don't do harm to others' when you get down to it. laws are about 50% 'don't do things that may endanger you or others' and 50% bullshit. the rest you're kinda on your own with.

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Urgh... My skin's crawling... Moon must be gettin' round soon..."

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"At first I was sad 'cause I got put in a different house to Suba, but all kinds of stuff happens here every day so it was fine."

awww he was sad because he doesn't get to see Subaru as often but he's not bored so it's alright! glad he's comfortable ;u;

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"H-Hey, don't come so close! Somethin' about your scent makes my stomach feel weird!"

WE'RE ONLY ON AFFINITY 5 DUDE YOU CAN'T BE CATCHING FEELINGS THIS EARLY it's probably because he's scared of girls or something lol

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I didn't do anything wrong! Those guys were saying mean stuff about me 'cause they thought I couldn't hear. All I did was yell at them."

I hate how they won't even let Lyca defend himself verbally. . . .

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I don't mind classes. The teachers say cool stuff. Once I learn to read the textbooks and the notes and the blackboard it'll be perfect."

HE'S GONNA BE SUCH A GOOD STUDENT WHEN HE CAN READ???

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"There was this big noise in our practical class and my ears popped out. Everyone ran away screaming. Damn it..."

wow they're cowards if the ears alone scared them. . .how're they supposed to deal with anomalies if that scared them!?

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"This? It's a picture book, duh. How come you don't know that when you're a human? I study with it before bed, everyone does it."

I wonder who made him a picture book of all the things he'd be learning as a first year to study with. . . . . .or maybe it's just a generic picture book lol

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"This blanket's not trash, it's just dirty. I can't sleep without it, so hands off."

he really loves that blanket huh. it must be one of the only things he had from his childhood or from being looked after by neros. . . .

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"What's a "so-shul skill"?  That blond gigolo was talking about them. He said I don't have any. Is that a good thing?"

he's got social skills!! Just. . .not very human social skills!!!

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I'm starving... I wanna eat Sho's food, but I can't order it without Suba... Wait, you can read, right?"

Lyca slowly realizing how many people he knows can actually read and thus can help him with placing orders for delicious foods--

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"That moth-eaten Casanova's in his room all day so I tried to take him for a walk, but he locked his door and ignored me. The hell?!"

LYCA CONTINUES TO SCRATCH AT ED'S DOOR COME FOR WALKIES ED!!!!

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"That stupid blond gigolo ran off with my blanket. I'm not done sleeping yet..."

tbf your blanket is filthy. . .and I get it, it's what you've got and it smells familiar but. . . .

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"I can't get back to sleep... I'm gonna wake up that moth-eaten Casanova for a walk."

lyca is a dog scratching at your bedroom door with his leash in his mouth like 'yes it is time for walkies now rise human'

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"The teacher asked us to name an anomalous plant you can eat but when I did he said humans can't eat it. So what? I can, so I'm not wrong."

I AGREE WITH HIM HE SHOULD NOT GET THAT MARKED WRONG. if you only want a human applicable question say 'humans' not 'you.

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"In the last place I never knew what time it was and I pretty much just slept all day. Now I gotta get used to having a "roo-teen.""

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I'm drawing. If I draw all the good stuff and bad stuff that happened every day I won't forget about it."

if he could write he'd keep a diary but since he can't write he's keeping a picture diary. . .and he's a really good artist according to his character story, so it's probably a pretty faithful recreation of whatever happened that day. i'd love to see his picture diary. . . .

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Huh? The blood on my bed? ...It's nothing. Don't touch my stuff, you're gonna get your smell all over it!"

WHY IS THERE BLOOD IN YOUR BED, BUDDY. ARE YOU OKAY??? IF YOU ATE SOMETHING IN BED THAT'S FINE I JUST DON'T WANT YOU TO BE INJURED. . . .

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"...Did you cry? Your scent is all squeezy. How come?"

smelling you sad makes him sad too so tell him why you're feeling sad and he can make the sad go away?

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I wanna go to the cafeteria, but the teachers won't give me my pocket money. They said I'll get "spoiled." The hell does that mean?!"

GIVE HIM SOME MONEY SO HE CAN BUY FOOD???? HE NEEDS TO EAT????? HE'S BUSY WITH CLASS SO HE CAN'T GO ON MISSIONS YOU CAN'T JUST STARVE THE BOY????

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"That moth-eaten Casanova told me humans like it if you ignore them sometimes. Something about playing hard to get? I'm gonna try it tomorrow."

I wonder if that has anything to do with Subaru's home screen chat where he wonders why Lyca hasn't messaged him back. . .he's trying to play hard to get because he thinks it'll make Subaru like him more. . . .

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I'll stay here and be quiet at night, even when the moon's not round. 'Cause you're tired, aren't you? Go sleep."

even if he doesn't have to stay or even if he wants to make lots of noise, he'll stay and be quiet so it's easier for you to fall asleep. He won't be loud and you don't have to worry about him! so sleep tight!

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Sleep here. Huh? Is there a law that says we can't sleep together? There's not, is there? Hurry up and lie down."

it's pretty much innocent. . .he just wants you close by. . .being able to smell you while he sleeps would probably make it easier to fall asleep. . .feel safe and familiar and everything. . . .

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"I'm gonna work hard... I'll gonna work so hard, they're gonna say I can live with humans forever..."

Lyca, despite being a werewolf, is a lot like Kaito in that he just wants to be a normal human. Except he never started as a normal human, so he has a bit further of a distance to go to become one. . .he's not a dog, he doesn't wanna be a pet or an animal or anything like that. He wants to be a person like everyone else. But it's hard when others reject him, and when everyone says they think he's too dangerous even when he hasn't done anything wrong. Other ghouls--other humans--do way worse stuff than he does, and yet he's still held to a higher standard. It's not fair. But he's working as hard as he can to catch up. . . .

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"That blond gigolo tried to wash my blanket! He's never coming in my room again!"

he does not like spring cleaning--

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Lately there's flower smells everywhere, but sometimes there's one that kinda smells like you."

IT'S GONNA BE HILARIOUS IF THE ANOMALY THAT CURSED YOU HAPPENS TO LIVE IN OBSCUARY'S FOREST. . .LIKE YEAH IT'S JUST OUT THERE IT WAS ALWAYS ON CAMPUS IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU WE COULD'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS CURE BEFORE YOU GOT IT.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Harurin kept nagging, so I went to the safari park. Not gonna lie...it was super fun."

I love that Lyca uses the nicknames Rui uses for some people lol and I bet he loved running around Jabberwock!!! All that fresh open air and the wildlife. . .he's a wolf at heart really and truly.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Cherry blossom petals are super fun. They're like, whoosh, then they fall everywhere. I wish our house had some."

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Urgh... My head...it hurts... This? It's shaved ice. The blond gigolo told me to eat it so I don't get "heat eggs-aw-schun.""

oh buddy you're eating it too fast. . . . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I was just in that moth-eaten Casanova's room and it was so cold I thought it was gonna snow! Is he secretly a yeti?"

okay it was only 63 degrees in there it wasn't THAT cold Lyca.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm gonna go practice swimming at Harurin's place. Can you do other stuff besides doggy paddle?"

I can't swim at all so. you are miles ahead of me my friend.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I know I said I always wanted to do sparklers, but... you sure this's okay? I thought we're not s'posed to play with fire!"

canid instincts are kicking in--fire BAD and SCARY and DANGEROUS. ABORT MISSION.

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"I just tried to join in with some guys playing with a ball, but they said I don't know the rules and told me to go away."

THEN TEACH HIM THE RULES god they're such jerks around here.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Blond Gigolo was makin' this massive fire near the garden just now. It smelled all burnt and sweet... Is that some kinda ritual?"

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Finished my picture. That Romi guy who comes to the bar all the time said he wanted one, so it's for him."

Romeo does like fine things. This just goes to show how good of an artist Lyca is! I bet Romeo's gonna frame it and put it somewhere people can see lol or maybe just keep it in his room. . .that or he wants to see if he can get him to make a forgery and profit off poor Lyca--

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Moth-eaten Casanova said humans like looking at the moon... D'you get sad if you can't see it?"

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"I'm gonna go play at that big ice castle after class! Huh? 'Cause playing in the snow's fun."

THE FROSTHEIMERS BETTER NOT GIVE HIM TROUBLE LET MY BOY RUN AND ROMP IN THE SNOW!!!!!!!

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Mm, I don't really feel the cold. Humans get warm when they run around too, don't they? Race you over there! "

he is having so much fun in the winter ;;;;; just running around and playing. . . .

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"My fingers have been gettin' all tingly and stiff and my hair's all crunchy! What's up with that? "

maybe playing in the snow a little too much lol--

(between 8pm and 5am)

"How d'you drink hot drinks so quick? They always burn my tongue... Huh? Dogs have sensitive tongues? I'm a wolf, not a dog..."

His birthday: (April 19th)

"Oh right, it's my birthday. Neros told me my mom wrote down the date."

Your birthday:

"It's your birthday, right? No, I only know 'cause that blond gigolo was yelling about it. ...Here's your present."

I bet he drew something really nice or found you something really cool ;3;

New Years: (January 1st)

"Hope you have a happy and prop...props... prosp...prospinous? new year... Damn it, I practiced that for ages..."

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"Oh, thanks. Professor Nicolas said I can't eat chocolate, so I'll give it to Casanova and Gigolo!"

why would you even risk giving him chocolate in the first place lmao. . .also in Japanese he says "I'll share with those two idiots" instead of "casanova and gigolo" lmao

White Day: (March 14th)

"This is for you. I dunno what kinda stuff human girls like, but Suba helped me pick it, so it's prob'ly fine."

Subaru knows girls' tastes is Lyca's logic I guess lmao Subaru is a lil on the femme side comparatively--

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Why's everyone being so mean today?! Telling lies and laughing at me... They're all jerks...!"

please explain the day to him. . .people are mean enough to him as it is. . . .

Halloween: (October 31st)

"My ears and tail are out? I know, I'm doing it on purpose. The moth-eaten Casanova said it's okay today."

THE ONE DAY HE CAN BE HIMSELF IS HALLOWEEN BECAUSE NO ONE WILL THINK ANYTHING OF IT. . .they'll just think it's a cool costume or maybe a fox robe! And he'll get candy for it!!!

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Hey, look! When I got up this present was next to my pillow! Santa really came..."

WHO TAUGHT HIM ABOUT SANTA. . .AND WHY. . .then again Romeo said Santa's reindeer is real so. . .it probably isn't actually harmful to teach him about Santa since Santa's probably somewhat real here. . . .

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"...I'm going for a walk."

(13 affinity and above)

"Hey, you alive? Huh, you're breathing so I guess so."

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"How come you stopped coming? Do you hate me? It made my heart all squeezy, so don't do it again."

oh no sweetie. . .sometimes we just have to take care of things and disappear without wanting to. . .sometimes life gets in the way instead of finding away. . . . . . . .

JUST. . .SWEETEST OF SWEETHEARTS. HE'S SO CHILDISH AND ADORABLE AND SWEET AND GOOD. . .I WILL USE MY TEN SECONDS OF PETTING TIME WISELY. He really does try harder than anyone, he's so determined and I believe in him so much. I want my boy to be happy.

[gnohomotho]

Just a game (part 2) 𝄞⨾

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Pairing: Hwang In-ho / The Frontman x fem!reader

Summary: We're getting there, folks. (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞ ☜(ﾟヮﾟ☜) Mostly fluff, need, imagination, fantasy, slow burn. Focus on the f!reader, because you deserve nice things. She's home, receiving odd gifts, some sweet, some...quite the not sweet, the game and plot and trouser legs thicken (I'm so sorry, it's literally 2 a.m. here). In-ho definitely isn't obsessing over you, hatching elaborate plans, thinking of you so hard he'll break another turtleneck. Not saying the f!reader has any specific issues, but if you recognize any, I hope to be nothing but respectful. ♥ Oh, and we have a dream sequence, Freud would be proud.

(This was mainly meant as a "put your feet up and be cozy, read about yourself and feel good" read, the action will come later. Among other things. I'm so sorry, my thesis is driving me mad.)

Warnings: It's the god damn Front Man The usual Squid Game warnings, mdni, stalking, spying, voyeurism, touching, self-touching, sexual themes, sexual almost-intercourse, descriptions of anatomy and body parts, blood, yearning, some terrible references and Slavic folklore. Privacy? In my fic? It's less likely than you think.

Word count: 4.2k

Link to previous Link to next

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A cup of tea. A cup. You were watching the cup. Steam rises from it and folds into nothing. Your stomach is churning. Is it stress? You ponder. Seeing the liquid close in on itself as you stir it. Again and again.

"It'll get cold." You say, to no one. You try to breathe. Heart pounding. Head a bit spinny. You look around your room. Dimly lit, warm orange light from a salt lamp. You check your blinds - still closed, still safe. Noise from other people you try to filter out. Why do you jump at every single sound? Why does white noise blaring its head off make for the only atmosphere you can stand? You wonder. You get up. The world spins. The phone lies on your bed. As it has for the last three hours. Unchecked. Your sound is off. It always is. You turned off everything this time. It's just black. You try to think, ground yourself, poems float through your pounding head. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the tall mirrors of your wardrobe. An oddly shaped form stares back at you.

"Jesus Christ…I look…like shit." The mirrored lips curl around your words - but it might as well have been a stranger speaking back at you. You don't recognize yourself, and what you do, you dislike. Like a funhouse mirror. Without the fun. Your long hair falls across your shoulders, curling towards the ends. Your exposed skin is cold and giving a nice exposé of every vein under your neck, driving rivers of blue across your collarbones, your shoulders, your chest. You won't look further. They seem to be drawn to your middle, pooling across your skin. People often referred to you as pale, no matter your actual skin tone. When things got a tad too heavy, you became transparent. It was calming, sometimes. Calming that so much was trying to keep you alive to the point of exhausting itself and sending highways of signals through every vein to keep at it. Your head spins again. More poems. Try to drink the tea.

"Light your candle, one, two, there's a moth…" You know the rest. But the lips fail to speak. You pick up the phone. And almost knock over your tea. Then proceed to fight an urge to fling it into a wall and watch the stains roll down like fresh blood.

Seventeen missed calls from a blocked number - your now ex-companion. A worried message from your friend, no doubt spurred by said ex-companion with an entirely different story to reality. Frowning, you adjust your dressing gown and tie it down to hold everything in and hold you together.

"Hey, Y/N…I know you probably don't want to talk, but I'm sorry things went so badly. I'm here."

You hate yourself a little more. Clara has always been a darling, you…cared for her. A lot. You wish to say "loved", you squint your eyes and wish to say you love her. People are kind. People are always so very kind. And you can't drink a cup of tea. Nor reply. There's also an email. From a set of numbers, no name. You open it, against your better judgement. No subject, only a photograph. Of your door. Your door inside your flat. Which is locked. You didn't ring anyone in. You, of all people, didn't hear any steps on the stairs. You live at the very top floor. And still?! What is wrong with you lately, now of all times?

And still, there is a photograph of your door. With…things? Your shoes were gently placed beside your mat.

"Um…" You knock on your housemate's door - how grateful you are for the economic situation which doesn't permit you to live alone now, you think bitterly as his steps approach.

"Oh, Y/N, how are you? What can I do you for?" Ever the cheerful voice and visage stands before you, half dressed, always flooded with work and hobbies. The room behind him is full of papers and candles, manuals and scripts, and information that probably shouldn't be lying around covered in bird photography snaps. It calms you a tad. You breathe out and uncross your arms. In the back of your mind, you wonder what he's always so entranced with.

"I'm getting there, thank you, Lubo." Your chest falls a tad, you really do feel a bit better, but very on edge. You fidget with your fingers as you speak. "Would it be alright to ask if you could open the main door with me? Something is there and I've been listening to too many IRA anthems to trust it." Because making a joke out of a very serious situation never failed you yet.

"Sure!"

You notice one of the birds on the ground behind him. Gazing at one photograph a little longer, you smile at the birdie and its soft grey feathers, little black dash across its little eyes...you realise you're looking at a shrike. The universe really is sending her best.

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You open the door as Lubo endeavours to rummage through the things on your doorstep. It seems to be a very neatly wrapped black box with a pink bow. With a little token of a crow embossed on its side. Heavy, by the looks of it. You half expect your ex-companion's limbs to be soaking its insides.

"I'll take it indoors and disinfect it, ok? Just so it doesn't feel like you've contaminated the flat." You nod, thank him over and over, and feel very grateful for him remembering your slight fights with obsessive cleanliness and parasites. But this looks…clean. You take a knife from your room, the knife that's been under your pillow for good reason. Kneeling, you gently unwrap the box altogether and distance yourself from the thing for a little bit. Breathe. It's just a box. Those never go wrong.

It's…full of…gifts?

Your…favourite flowers, perfectly preserved. No one knows your favourite flowers that well. Under them, resting under jewels of crimson poppies, lies a book of poems, the ones you use to calm yourself down; the ones that make you feel less alone. In the correct languge, even. Next to the poppies, hot water bottles, wrapped, fluffy, still warm. Under them yet, medication you couldn't get from your doctor for the entire month due to disagreements and never being heard, half of them aren't even sold in the country. Bath salts, dark chocolate, tea…there seems to be so much. Your face is caught in a mixture of attempting to frown, being swept off your feet, and deeply uncomfortable with what is basically an encyclopedia of you in a box. You carefully lay the items to the side and begin to notice things you truly need your housemate to not see. You lose your breath for a moment and blush so hard you almost forget both the kindness and terror of the rest of the package. It seems to be divided into care for you and…some other forms of urges. As if. As fucking if.

"Google, remind me to photograph this tomorrow in good light," you say to nothing, "to use as evidence either after this person manages to kill me or before, if the courts move faster than an asthmatic ant with heavy shopping."

Against your better judgement, you carry the box to your room and watch it for a while, as you do other things, but can never quite relax. Surely he can't be serious. Your name isn't Shirley.

There was also a note you now keep flinging on your table and crunching in your hands, neatly written, with no name.

"Dear Y/N,

should you wish to meet someone qualified to help with the attached records, it has been arranged. Be at the coordinates listed between the red and white gift and you will be taken care of. No harm will come to you. You are safe. As right as rain."

Right as rain…that's a part of a poem, that absolute…dear God, fuck, the thoughts in your head are tumbling down at you and you collapse onto the bed, staring at your knees. It's a good thing he somehow didn't include your most loved flowers, since they're all poisonous. One of them you like specifically because it is elegant, sharp, snowy, and beautiful - and all of her body, leaves, and seed pouches scream "don't fucking touch me, if you do, you will die and wish for death the entire time you are doing so". You would very much like to be the flower now. Make someone else hallucinate.

You search the box again and find the beautiful gown, in red, and the gentle white lace undergarments - as kind and gentle and revealing as they are elegant. A little QR code is nestled between the lace.

"Nope. Nope nope NOPE. Absolutely not," you say out loud. Fighting the fact that the nightgown under the two other garments is cozy and light and so very beautiful. And it smells…oddly familiar. With a hint of something else. As if someone knew you loved scents of sweetness, vanilla, caramel, honey, and skin combined with darker, heavier tones that don't usually mix with feminine perfumes. Something lovely and gentle to draw you in, with something far more potent, enveloping, and enthralling to drag you down the lake to drown. And yet. Still. Something else. Something more. You decide to put on the gown and stare into a little crow's eyes. Such a pretty little statue, you don't even remember where you got it from.

"I'm going to be alright. Water is fine. This is just water. We've been here, we've been in the mud up to our noses." You are whispering to yourself, trying to sooth your mind. Metaphores, poems, sooth sooth sooth. You close your eyes, think of beautiful women, barefoot, in the dark of a forest. Glistening lights in their long hair, lights in their gorgeous eyes. Light on their feet, as they dance upon the water and through the marsh. You cannot drown a forest spirit of a woman scorned. They will mesmerize you, dance you, dance you to the end of your love and tether, and pull you into the depths. Then kiss you as you gasp for air.

You undress, eyes still closed, holding the long white gown. You slowly slide into the fabric, which clings to your skin as a lover's touch at the first sign of morning light. Still trying to be as unbothered and confident as a forest Rusalka. You aren't. But the gown smells nice. And it's quite light. Long sleeves, fabric that reveals but doesn't scream. Lace around your chest and stomach, falling down your hips and thighs.

…Kiss you as you gasp for air.

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In-ho was pleased with his gift. Not only the gift, but the message. Upon message. Upon message. He wondered, quite hopeful - yet reserved - if you understood them all. No matter.

You will. Oh, you will. Every word. Even if he has to cling them to your skin, one by one, with his own lips.

To the surprise of absolutely no one except you, perhaps, the small bird brought him all the feedback he could desire. Rather low quality feedback, he thought, as he watched you ponder, watched you crunch up the note, and watched you dress. Instinctively, he looked away as you began to slide your own clothes down. He glimpsed perhaps a strap, perhaps more skin than he first saw…light reflecting off you, sliding down, further down, caressing your tenderness…yet he looked away, calmly resolute to not look back. His gaze remained firmly in the corner of the room, he certainly wasn't fighting - or imagining himself being the photons of light resting on your supple skin. No. It would be unbecoming to watch a lady undress, so vulnerable, so unknowing. Never mind the rest. If you looked up the word "hypocrite" in the dictionary, In-ho's face wouldn't be next to it. It would be on the next page, because he would never be caught. As he looked back, you were dressed, not looking at yourself.

In-ho frowns for a moment, before he sees the rest of you. Even though it's just a phone screen and the picture quality truly isn't doing you justice, his breath is caught. He shifts and looks around instinctively, only a flicker of the eyes and a small movement of the neck. But he's nervous, nervous to be so exposed. He chuckles to himself just as unnoticeably - he's spying on you yet he's the one feeling exposed..was the chuckle to ease tension? This is just a game to him and you are nothing, after all. No one. He shifts once more and uncrosses his legs, one hand slowly combing his hair firmly away from of his forehead. Nothing. Just as it is nothing that is making the jacket around his neck feel tight. He sees you stand, further away now. He sees your entirety in the white flowing fabric, the lace, the…entirety…of you. His coat needs to come off, and is discarded to the side in haste. The remaining turtleneck isn't much help, but he goes in, now fully enthralled. Positioning himself, he endeavours to enjoy you. Slowly. From the tip of your head to the soles of your feet, remaining fully in control, admiring, never taking, never grabbing. Never…needing. But as he moves down your face, your cheeks, your chin, along your neck all the way to your hair resting on your now exposed shoulders, back to your mouth and lips - he leans into the screen - those supple yet reserved, tender lips whispering gently and curling around words as if speaking to a sleeping lover in the night who is caught in a bad dream, the eyes - damn the picture quality - the eyes that glint, yet resemble dark pools amid features that are…that mean…his heart is fast. His eyes pools of reckless abandon. They flicker to the movement of your hips and tick fast, fast back up top, stopping at the almond curve the nightgown begets your breasts - In-ho's hands twitch as his fingers yearn with a mind of their own, to hear you gasp and squirm and melt under their touch as he teases, cups, and caresses in the gown's place. Tender flowers, waiting to be kissed. As you move, for him, for his eyes only, his mind floods through its inhibitions and begins racing on instinct - yet does so wrapped in cotton; barely subdued. Algorithms, scenarios, plans - ten a second - gather in his mind - resting on nothing but your features, spurred into existence by you, your lips, your form, your movement. He's watching the last flame dance before him in a sea of suffocating darkness, and it is his. Tension grips The Frontman's trousers as he digs his fingers in to feel something, anything, as if to drag himself back, painfully if need be - all this…for a low quality moving picture of you.

You. Your self before him. No adjective does it justice to In-ho, no painter could stroke its surface, nobody could own this moment. Nobody but him. And he cannot reach, reach through the screen, for you, for you mean…you in your entirety, before him, vulnerable, bare, unknowing, both a deity to be worshipped and a form to be devoured and left pleading, barely breathing under him, his grasp, his hot breath, you, you mean…

…nothing to him. In-ho leans back again. He breathes a bit faster, containing himself. As his breath slows and features fall back into place, he straightens the trouser leg and exhales. Your name is on his lips as he does so; he whispers it to himself. A name that doesn't seem to leave his tongue, no matter how many times it wraps around every syllable.

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N…you are nothing."

He turns off the screen with one click. "Nothing." He gets up, leaving the phone behind. He is back to his true self - unbothered, cold, empty. A statue of stone. It was fun while it lasted, but the shell he wears gets tired of the falsity imbued in it during these little sidesteps. Little adventures to ease the monotony. Your records lie on the table, next to his glass of dark liquer. He walks over slowly, cradles it, sipping with restraint, and puts it down just as slowly in the exact same place. He goes on with his evening, thinking, it must be said, of nothing. He continues his work, thinking of nothing. Nothing replaces the drabble of his underlings as they update him on the latest games. Nothing is on his mind as he showers, nothing is in the water that glides down his own body. Nothing is in the warmth that he doesn't imagine being replaced nor coming from a different source. The voice of nothing is in the hiss and humm of the shower, nothing sings to him sweetly as it envelops his form. Nothing is woven into his satin sheets, nothing still smells of the perfume he picked for you, nothing is in his bed and pillows and nothing is slowly, invariably, fatally invading his mind. The cologne he uses, the same cologne he rubbed upon certain parts of the gown you now rest in, isn't combining and wildly interweaving with your gentle, warm, sweet, yet heavy scent. Nothing is everywhere and nothing is driving him absolutely stark, staring mad as he lays there - naked, exposed, amid satin sheets, it is nothing that invades his dreams and wraps him in sensations he can still only dream of.

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Barren lands and dusk. No flowers. No life. In-ho is alone. As far as the eye can see lies nothing. He cannot feel his mask. A shape is in front of him, laying there, incredulous. Unfitting its surroundings. As if guided by an unseen hand, he walks up to her slowly and kneels beside her. She is dressed in white fabric, falling across her skin, exposing more than is becoming of such a form. Her hand is resting next to her head, her other at her side. She is peacefully asleep. A gentle humm escapes her lips - she must be dreaming. In-ho glides the back of his hand everso carefully across her cheek, guiding it down her neck and stopping at her collarbones. Her chest lifts in a slow rhythm as her skin touches his. She is his. Is she not? He could...open his hand, and his hand opens. He could place it around her neck, and he does. As he feels her warmth and blood pumping into his hand, he thinks he could squeeze and hold down. He doesn't. The form reacts to his intentions, seemingly, her face frowning in the most unnoticeable way, lips falling from their previous peaceful expression to a worried frown. As if caught in a bad dream.

No, no, no.

In-ho releases the pressure and merely rests his hand on her neck, pushing errant strands of hair away from her skin. They fall around her shoulders and between the fingers of his other hand, which lifts instinctively to cradle her head. Her expression relaxes, and he smiles almost on instinct. Suddenly, her eyes flutter open and gaze into his own, almost unblinking and holding his gaze. The pools of comforting darkness set in an innocent visage drive electrical current through his entire body and In-ho almost has to steady himself against the ground where his hand is holding her head, still. She isn't scared, she only gazes and studies, lays, and rests in his own dark eyes. Her smile mirrors his. As if the two of them were already familiar, already far beyond anything novel. She whispers to him.

"Darling, this isn't your place."

In-ho doesn't think, he knows the voice. The gentle, slow, melodic whisper that he wishes to hear before he goes to sleep himself. Putting more strength into his grip, he places his dominant palm in hers as it still lays beside her head. He squeezes her down. Without thought, his body shifts to move above hers, holding her gaze, now directly on top of her, without touching her body with his. His hands no longer gentle, but firmly holding down. His thumb caresses her cheek as his other hand pushes her palm into the ground.

"It doesn't need to be."

As the sentence barely left his lips, he connects them with her neck, firmly kissing the skin and pulling her into his bite. The taste is intoxicating, and beckons for more. Sweet, tender, pure, intoxicating. Down her neck he plants kisses and barely restrained bites, gliding his touch, gripping her hand and moving his other to her neck once more. He hears gasps and timid moans, and he moves down, lips brushing against her chest and resting upon it. He lets go of her hand and finally grips her, under the small of her back, caressing and squeezing her waist, lifting her body into his. Now he feels her. Now he feels her being react and pressure and squirm, now he feels the pulse of her body directly under his and melting into him. Every movement, every gasp, every beat of her heart - in his control, under him, sinking into him. Her waist lifts against his and he eagerly helps it up, feeling his need against her body, finally, all he needs to do is tear off the gown, take her, make her fully his and hear her cries and moans as he takes what is his. Still in control of himself, he fully recognizes his itch, his need, his voracious hunger. He recognizes it and fully gives into it.

But the dream does not let him.

Something is wrong. The body is colder now, her breathing is slow, her voice no longer caressing him, her being no longer reacting to his touch. The current fizzled out. Pulling away, he sees the damage done - even as her eyes are wistful and her smile still there, it is sorrowful and soft, gazing down at him although broken under him. He sees her neck and chest, her breasts exposed, her skin red with bite marks, red with his signatures. Lines where his grip failed to falter rest on her tender flesh, her pallor a canvas for his need and depravity. For his destruction. He does not want this, he does not want her like this, his mind races and tries to get back in control but cannot. The canvas before him begins to soak through in crimson, blood pools into the white fabric where he lay and pushed and tried to take her. As he watches the gown cling to her stomach with blood, fear drives cold daggers through his back. He is no longer the Front Man, he is himself. Himself before a Front Man ever was. And he is...scared. Still her voice reaches him, doing nothing to alleviate his state, doing nothing to destroy the damn invisible barrier that keeps him from holding her close, holding her together, holding him together.

"Not like this darling, not like this again."

How is she still smiling? How does she seem so cold yet encompassing an utter lack of proximity? Holding her now seems like the most sacriligeous, repugnant thing he could do. His hands shiver lightly, how is he afraid to touch her now? After all that? She is his, his, this is all so incredibly wrong! He doesn't care, he doesn't have feelings for such frivolities, she is a dime a dozen, she is worth nothing, and she is nothing to him; nothing.

And she's still smiling, a little laugh escaping her lips as if she can hear his inner turmoil and has seen it thrice before.

"Taking what you want, never what you need."

In-ho looks down at his own body, which begins to feel cold and wrong. As if missing something vital. He smells copper, his hand feels hot as he touches his chest yet his body grows colder. The last thing he remembers before waking up in a freezing sweat is looking down at his own body, now filled with open chasms wherever it touched hers - gaping empty holes that can be filled with nothing, bleeding him into the ground as she watches on.

In-ho gasps, springs up into a seated position and touches his chest, his stomach - and breathes in relief. As he is composing himself, a new manner of play begins to form in his mind. Between hurried breaths and elevated pulse beats, he plans a new way to play this game and win.

[wrathofrats]

Mushy May Day 15: first time

1k, nsfw, ifrit/zephyr, prompts by @forlorn-crows !

Read under cut or find all of mushy may on ao3!

Transfem ifrits first time after bottom surgery (:

Notes and things: inspired by @noahl-art bc I realized he was the only one I saw talking about bottom surgery and I got really curious so here’s this. There’s a couple hours of research into this I saw many many vaginas LMAO. And thanks to @jimothybarnes and @everybodyshusband for encouraging and forcing this fic into fruition

Mostly fluffy, virginity kink shit as always, they’re sickly in love it’s kinda gross, wrath’s trying her best if there’s something inaccurate pls dm me but I tried to do a lot of research to make this respectful and accurate so I hope that comes across <3

“Ifrit…” zephyr breathed. They swallowed thickly, tentatively putting their hands on her waist. Her skin was covered in red lace, a bralette that pushed her breasts up enough to practically spill over and panties that hugged her hips, digging into the soft curve of her waist. She looked absolutely breathtaking beneath them. 

“You picked it out for me moth, don’t know why you’re so speechless” ifrit was flushed red at this point, picking at the hem of her bra and fidgeting like she was truly nervous, like she truly couldn’t believe zephyr was this in awe of her. 

“I’m speechless because of you, you look better in it than I could’ve ever imagined”

They thumbed over the fabric, fingers delicately tracing over her smooth skin. They didn’t tug at the lingerie even though they craved to see her. Months without intimacy keeping zephyr more on edge than they’d like to admit, though they’d happily wait years if it was what made ifrit comfortable. But she initiated. She asked zephyr to pick her out something to wear for when they first saw her again after the surgery and they were more than happy to oblige. 

"Do you want to see?" Ifrit finally asked. She grabbed zephyrs hand that had settled on her hip, seeming more than content to just stay like this. Aether and omega were the only ones who had seen her so far, being there to take care of her and help her with her dilators afterwards. Though those were never fun, as much as she almost hoped they would be.

But it was nothing for zephyr to see or be involved with even though they offered. She wanted this to be special, some kind of grand reveal for some reason. Maybe for her own ego, or just saving the weirdness of having them look at her post op while things still didn't look quite right.

"Please marigold" zephyr breathed. Their hands intertwined together over the waistband of her panties pushing and pulling them down to reveal herself. Zephyr tried not to completely gasp at the change. They tried not to immediately reach out to touch her though with the way ifrit was breathing heavy, they were sure that's all she really wanted.

"Is it… is it ok?"

"You're absolutely beautiful ifrit"

Ifrit reached down between her legs, spreading herself open for them. She was already slick and shiny, working herself up for this. A weird glint of proudness along with a big smile as she ran a finger up and down her folds, showing off the slick that had accumulated.

"See how wet you get me Zeph?" Ifrit sighed. She grabbed their hand, bringing it to settle on her vulva, an invitation to touch her as well. "I can say that now" she giggled "I can tell you how wet you make me"

Zephyr used their fingers to open her up, thumbing up and down trying not to act like they were examining her. But it was fascinating, and she looked perfect, tempting. Their finger came to rest on that pretty little bud at the top, giving it a bit of pressure before tentatively rubbing in a circle. Ifrits leg twitched, hips bucking a bit with the sensation. Not entirely new, but with zephyrs hand it only added a new form of arousal to the act.

"Still sensitive?"

"It feels good- don't stop" ifrit breathed in, arching a bit off the pillows as zephyr made faster circles. No longer simply experimenting, but knowing how to make her actually feel good. Maybe zephyr asked mist for help before hand, sue them.

"Can you cum like this?" Zephyr could feel ifrit twitch and clench as they worked. Obscene, wet sounds came from their fingers, now covered in ifrits arousal.

"Multiple times- found out the refractory period is a lot lower too"

Zephyr got two fingers inside of her as she said that, feeling her from the inside for the first time. Silky, hot and wet, she was absolutely perfect.

"Come on then, wanna feel you cum around my fingers"

Ifrit stifled a cry, throwing her head back. It felt amazing, better than before if she was being honest, and much nicer than her own hand. She spasmed around zephyrs fingers, rolling her hips as they worked her through it. Sparks of pleasure mellowing out into an almost over sensitive buzz before they finally pulled away.

"You taste better than before too firefly" they licked a fat stripe up and around their index finger, keeping eye contact with ifrit. She blushed, squirmed as her breathing regulated more, though this didn't help.

"Shut up-" she whispered, looking away. Zephyr couldn't help but giggle a bit at her sheepishness.

Her body relaxed, legs finally opening again as zephyr waited for her to be ready. They traced swirls and squiggles up and down her legs, simply watching her.

"Wish you wouldn't stare at me like that zephs" she laughed, light heartedly, "you make me nervous"

"Can't help it, you're too pretty, am I not allowed to stare at my beautiful fire lily?"

"No I brought you in here to fuck me like a whore if I'm being honest"

The act still felt new, even if it really wasn't. Settling between her legs and spreading her knees apart. She already felt prepped, though zephyr still went slow like they were scared of breaking her. Their hands smoothed over her thighs, lining their cock up to tease up and down, purposely taking time to run over her clit.

"You're ok with penetration? I'm not going to hurt you am I?"

"Need it Zeph, been waiting months for you. Wanted you to pop my cherry"

Zephyr almost choked, vision going blurry for a second as they fumbled to push into her. They felt filthy, weirdly enough. Her First time, sure they already assumed but it was different hearing it come out of her mouth like that.

Ifrit groaned at the stretch. It felt much better than the dilators she had been using, and the one off time she tried to use a dildo. Warm and close, it was different than the hard silicone. She could feel zephyr twitch inside of her, the wet slide of his cock in and out.

"Saved yourself for me? Letting me take your virginity? How sweet is my girl, spoiling me really"

[velnna]

The more I learn about your comic... The more I fall in love with it. Especially your bugs! Like can you explain more about them? I'm really curious about them (from the full bugs to the hybrids and anything else that comes to mind).

Anyway your art is wonderful and I adore seeing it on my dash. And you can info-dump too. If you want ofc.

Thank you!

The worldbuilding is a work in progress (as it always is, but the first chunk of the comic itself is pretty self-contained so we've been slowly tinkering at the rest of the world and creatures as we go without affecting it much), so we mostly have loose rules and ideas for the bugs as a species. Or anything in between for that matter.

For all intended purposes, bug people are all the same species and can usually cross-breed within mechanical constraints, as well as mix with the elves we threw into the mix. Genetics? Don't know her. We operate on Sims logic here.

A full bug has roughly a human lifespan, with some variation depending on the type of bug it's closer to and some type-specific quirks. The one we've explorer the most, as it pertains to Ashton and the latest batch out of the oven, is the ability that some types might have to undergo metamorphosis, usually at the expense of lifespan. This is Ashton btw

And this is Ashton pre-metamorphosis:

Something like this isn't super common tho! So despite me drawing a bunch of butterfly or moth people they generally don't get to that point and stay looking more like funky lizards with many arms

Bugs can have many arms or legs or eyes, funky colours, exoskeletal bits, antennae, or look pretty close to your average human/elf with hidden bug features. Dahlia for instance is a vaguely spidery bug but can easily hide a bunch of her eyes and secretes venom thru hidden glandes so you could mistake her for an elf

Meanwhile it'd be very hard to mistake someone like this guy for anything other than a horned bug

If u catch my drift.

Some bugs are small! Some are huge. Some are out there committing atrocities

Some dont look like bugs at all

They're generally not as physically strong as the average elf but more resilient in a cockroach kinda way. They can have a chaotic range of circulatory systems and internal organs that sometimes just make them really hard to kill and its also pretty hard to keep track of every variation of the species and their quirks.

That being said in a lot of places they're super common and coexist with elves just fine, mix up and it's also not super uncommon to have half breeds like our man Staeve (the ThUG edition). The closer you get to elf the longer you live and less "non human" traits you have. There's also a bunch of different types of regular ass elf and it all falls under the elf category unless we decide to name them something else down the line.

Then you've got a smaller category of super elves that have been isolated for so long they never blended with anything else, are more attuned to magic and in general have a sort of mythical status amongst everyone else. They also have the longest lifespan at around 250 ish years.

That's sort of the TL;DR for now! Ollie and I have started to put all the info we've got into a single repository and do want to start sharing it (probably as patreon posts for now) because comics are slow and the scope might not encompass that much of what we want to explore of this world. And the chaotic idea machine never stops

Here's a metamorphosis meme for ya

[theanoninyourinbox]

ONE OFF (maybe) WORLDBUILDING TIME

This is all @moths-wc-aus fault with the Worldbuilding generator, and thanks to @exocynraku for the cat description generator!

INTRODUCING STORMCLAN! (yes I know there's now a canon stormclan but it's cool so shoosh and enjoy)

Stormclan is a clan known for their steady demeanors, their efficient actions, and their mercy in battles. They value being like their environment - steady as stone but quick as water, ready to grow like the trees and laugh like the wind - and respect the cycle of life. Their merciful natures comes from the gods they worship - The Five Before. They eat a varied diet, but mostly fish and birds. Certain insects are farmed for the barren times. They weave the reeds and bark of their home into dens, baskets, and accessories.

This clan lives in a verdant stretch of a canyon, on the edges of a grand river. The clan is so large that the are split into 3-5 (depending on the seasons) colonies along the river, all in caves or under stony overhangs.

The main camp is situated under a large, ancient olive tree, and in the den of an equally ancient wolfpack. The nine founders of Stormclan found some of their bones scattered throughout, and sometimes trade the claws to travelers and wandering groups - the rest of the bones were either given to the river or buried beneath the path to The Sacred Grove. A Monster skeleton lies in front of the main cave entrance, and the Leader of the clan will address all from there.

The river is gentle on the surface, but has few places where cats can cross or fish safely. Each safe point is marked with stone stacks, and all cats are taught at a young age to be very careful - fish may be their main food in the hottest times, but the river doesn't differentiate between cat or leaf litter or whole trees. In flash flood season, messengers or available swift and loud cats are stationed at high points, ready to scream an echoing warning to go to higher ground.

The Sacred Grove lies behind the waterfall, down a long tunnel of packed earth. Here a piece of each passed clan member are buried in the walls, the rest given to the river to carry to new places. The Grove has an opening in the roof, allowing a single small tree to grow there. This is where the Speakers go, to offer sacrifices to the Five Before, and to ask the stars for guidance. The stars are where the dead rise to, regardless of their lives. It is the company of the Five Before that is withheld from the wicked, and the ability to give wisdom to the living to the virtuous.

The clan is guided by a single leader, with an heir and several underleaders - one for each colony in the clan. If two colonies merge, the senior underleader takes over, and the junior underleader acts as their heir. If the heir wishes to step down, they choose the next heir - unless they cannot choose (by death, being missing, or being banished, or otherwise), then the clan is asked to vote. The leader is given nine lives - for the nine founders of the original clan - and their health is tied to the health of Stormclan. A happy clan that trust their leadership means a healthy leader - but a clan in turmoil may lead to a sickly leader.

Kits are usually apprenticed at 6 moons, but may take up to 10 moons if they have a disability or special need - so that the best mentor or mentors may be chosen. No kit is left behind, for all kits can overcome anything, with the right mentor or the right role. Training may take up to a year, with the second half of the year being dedicated to learning at least a little of each role alongside polishing their skills. Knowing how to weave a basket may be useful, but knowing what herb helps with snakebite can save a life. This also can ensure an apprentice is happy with their role - there is no shame changing a path to a better or more fulfilling one. All cats know how to hunt, and work in shifts of their chosen duties and hunting duties. Cats may take mates at the half-year apprenticeship mark, when they gain their adult names and visit the Sacred Grove with offerings to each of the Five.

Messengers are traveling nearly every week - carrying woven bags of herbs, bones, and other goods. Only experienced messengers are allowed to travel in the heat of the day - most travel in the cool of the night, on moonlit nights. They are welcomed to each colony, with their goods and tales - and with the toms, their genetic contributions. (Such donations are carefully recorded, with the usual family lines. Female messengers may also get donors from the colonies they travel to, but usually molly messengers are single or don't want/keep kits)

Nurses are healers, but also the cat equivalent to first responders. They tend their precious herb gardens, grind medicines, and valiantly fight off anything or anyone who threatens their patients. The current Lead Nurse lost a leg saving their pregnant patient from a falling stone. Any nurse is allowed to have kits, but only if they have at least one trained apprentice under them, or another fully trained senior nurse available. Every colony has at least two nurses - one fully trained and one apprentice.

Denmakers are the artists of the clan, weaving both useful and beautiful items. They make the dens, as their names suggest, but they also make messenger carry-baskets, storage baskets, and accessories. They often are older or retired cats, and sometimes cats who became injured and can no longer work as they once did. There is no shame in retiring, and denmakers are often good therapists and philosophers.

Speakers are rare - only one can hold the role at a time, but another is always chosen two years before the natural death of the current Speaker (in the case of a murder or accidental death, the leader acts as a temporary Speaker until the new Speaker is chosen, and helps to train them). Speakers are always cats who have survived the unsurvivable - long falls, drowning, flash fires, or heat stroke. They Speak to the gods, and tell the colonies what must be sacrificed for good fortune or to stave off the wrath of offended Wandering Spirits - the dead and the gathered feelings of the living. The current Speaker was found abandoned, her legs burnt by a lightning-sparked fire. Speakers may not take a mate or keep kits, but they may donate and have contact with their family. Only one molly Speaker had kits, but she was chosen shortly after surviving major bloodloss, and was able to raise them with her mate and see them become adults, until becoming the Speaker.

Stormclan worships the Five Before - Stone, River, Tree, Sky, and Change.

As the ancient story goes, River and Stone were mates in the void, and River birthed Tree and Stone birthed Sky. They ran together in the endless dark, before shedding their fur and creating the world. Change clawed their way up from the soil when the world became too crowded, and created the Cycle of Rot and Renewal - of Life begetting Death, and Death feeding Life. One day, nine cats decided to battle the Five, so that they may have a safe place to live. The nine were easily defeated, but Sky begged that his kin stay their claws and fangs, and made the nine cats explain. The boldest spoke up, that their homes had thrown them out for many reasons - being too crowded, refusing to have kits, changing their pronouns, feeling unsatisfied in life, and being too outgoing - and being so desperate for a home together that they would fight the Five Themselves. The Five Before were sympathetic - Stone and River had made their family so they would not be lonely, and Tree, Sky, and Change could not imagine throwing away their kin for any such silly reasons. The Five made the cats vow to give them offerings, and learn from them, so that they might be something new - the first Clan. Sky named them for their ferocity and wild cries - Stormclan.

Stone is the most fierce of the Five, and is known for their hotheadedness and unbreakable fangs and skin. They shed their fur to create stones and soil, and their wrath is felt in earthquakes and rockfalls. Offerings to Stone are succulents (Tree's gift to Stone, to give them the inspiration to grow gems), black or sandy stones, and fossils.

River is the most emotional of the Five, and is known for their adaptability (being ice and water and fog) and constantly waterlogged pelt. They shed their fur to create rivers, oceans, and snow, and their wrath is felt in floods and droughts. Offerings to River are fish bones, hail (Sky's gift to River, so they could make ice and snow), and clear or white stones.

Tree is the most helpful of the Five, and is known for their cheeriness and is known for their ever-growing and ever-changing bark and leaves. They shed their fur to become trees and all green things, and their wrath is felt in disease and poisonous plants growing wild. Offerings to Tree are petrified wood (Stone's gift to Tree, to preserve their favorite trees), seeds or fruit -especially olives-, and green or wood-brown stones.

Sky is the most talkative of the Five, and is known for their sense of humor and their pelt of clouds and feathers. They shed their fur to become the sky and the air, and their wrath is felt in out-of-season storms and tornadoes. Offerings to Sky are windswept stones (River's gift to Sky, showing him how to carve the earth like her waters did), any part of a flying animal - bird, insect, or rarely bat or very adventurous lizard -, and cloudy or grey stones.

Change is the most mysterious of the Five, and is known for their preservation of balance, and their two faces. They keep the Cycle of Rot and Renewal turning for all creatures, and are the most difficult to Speak to. Change is the one who chooses Speakers, halting the Cycle so one may Speak to the Five Offerings to Change are mushrooms (a gift from the rest of their family, mushrooms grow everywhere and keep the Cycle going), birth and death objects paired (like eggs and bird bones or seeds and dead branches), and multicolored stones.

Offerings are given every full moon, and colonies have a designated area to worship, so they don't have to trek back to the main camp every moon.

[impale-me-radio-daddy]

Hell 2 Pay

℣ Pairing: Vox X angelic!reader

℣ Summary: A naïve angel descends to Hell looking for Vagina. Finds Vox instead.

℣ Content notes: Voyeurism, first time for everything, explicit sexual content,use of a vibrator, guided masturbation, loss of virginity, creampie, Vox being Vox, pet names: mostly sweetheart, babydoll and baby, reader is a girl, reader has a pussy, reader has a name and it's a fucking stupid one.

A sequel to Heaven Spent

Taglist

@it-gal888 @jurijyuu @bishiglomper @brunette-bet @bapple117

@diffidentphantom @leonotlara @redvexillum @nyx-umbrakinesis

“You sure it’s okay for me to come to this with you?” you asked, quietly, as you walked out to the limo, holding Vox’s arm.

“Baby, everyone who is anyone is going to this party.” Vox gestured wide with his talons, an arc of electricity between his fingers. “I hear even Lucifer himself is on the guest list. If this friend of yours is still down here, and she’s as powerful as you say she is, she’ll be there.”

In the days since you’d met Vox, you’d come no closer to finding Vagina, though not through lack of trying. You’d searched every database Vox had access to for her name, scoured security feeds and drone footage from across the city looking for a glimpse of her aquiline nose. You’d searched until your eyes watered, until Vox came round to your console each evening and told you it was time to stop for the night. To sleep.

Half the time you found yourself passing out against him in the elevator on the way to the penthouse, waking up in his arms as he carried you to bed. It was embarrassing to admit how much you liked the sensation- the fact that he lifted you almost effortlessly, strong arms cradling you against his chest. A kiss goodnight was as much as you managed to give him, though he didn’t press for more, his tired voice a gentle rasp against your ear as he told you to rest up for the cameras the next day.

In exchange, you’d taken the job as spokesperson for Angelic Security, and spent your days in fitting rooms and in front of cameras, chirping out your lines with as much enthusiasm as you could muster.

You thought you’d hit a dead end, until Vox had arrived on set one afternoon with a change of costume for you; an off-the shoulder floor length pleated gown with an empire waist, and a hair ornament that made your breath catch when you looked at it, beads of glossy pink glass, shaped like pomegranate seeds, spilled in a cluster and connected by fine gold thread. The extravagance of it had made you nervous, but when Vox showed you your reflection in the mirror, you’d had to cover your mouth to stop yourself squealing with delight. You looked important and refined. Like a princess. And the look Vox gave you told you he thought so too.

You bit your lip. “I don’t want to embarrass you.”

“And why would I be embarrassed to have a beautiful girl like you on my arm, huh?” Vox’s talons squeezed gently around your shoulder, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

Vox’s business partner and roommate Valentino got into the limousine first, stooping to get into the spacious cabin inside, followed by his date, a pale pink spider demon who was only a little shorter than he was. Both of them were dressed for the event; Valentino with a silk top-hat in the place of his usual hat, and the spider demon in a tailored satin-lined jacket that hung open at the chest, no shirt or waistcoat underneath.

“This party better have an open bar, that’s all I’m saying-” the spider demon paused to look up as you climbed into the limo after him. “Who’s the skirt?”

“Angel Dust, this is Angelic Security’s newest spokesperson and my date, Ari. Ari, this is Angel Dust, Val’s-” Vox squinted, a glance at the big moth. “-most valued employee.”

“Oh.” Your grip on Vox’s arm tightened as you stared at Angel Dust. His soft pink fur didn’t make him look demonic, certainly. “Are you really an angel?”

“That depends who ya ask, toots.” Angel winked lasciviously.

“A lot of people have seen his pearly gates, that’s for sure.” Valentino wrapped a possessive arm around Angel, his long fingers sinking into the chest fluff that peeked from Angel’s half-open jacket. “But rest assured my cariño here is just as soaked in sin as the rest of us. Other things, too.” Valentino grinned, flashing a gold tooth, and you watched as Angel’s smile dropped fractionally.

“Alright, alright, save it for the afterparty, jeez.” Vox waved the air in front of him, opening a chilled compartment in the table between the four of you and pulling out a tray of drinks in a puff of condensation.

“Oh, thank fuck. My thirty four inch hero.” Angel reached out with two of his arms, took a glass in each, and dumped them unceremoniously into his open mouth. Vox and Valentino exchanged a look.

“I’d better not have to send anyone to scrape him off the floor this time,” groused Vox, his mouth sliding to the bottom corner of his screen as he watched Angel down another drink.

Valentino laughed. “He’ll be good tonight. Won’t you, cariño?” Valentino’s fingers slid up Angel’s neck, tilting his head to force eye contact.

Angel rolled his eyes. “Yes, daddy.”

Vox held open the door of the limo to let his other business partner, Velvette, in as she arrived. “No plus one tonight?”

“I’m meeting someone there.” Velvette ducked under Vox’s arm and climbed into her seat, phone in the palm of one hand as she grabbed a flute of champagne from the tray and took a sip, making a face. “One of my all-time least favourite people just died.”

“Ohh?” Valentino looked at her over the rims of his heart-shaped glasses. “That fashion editor bitch you hate?”

“That’s the one.” Velvette grinned at him. “I said I’d give her a job if she let me piss in her mouth.”

Vox snorted, pulling the door shut. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Of course I’m fucking kidding,” Velvette’s gaze went back to her phone. “I’m not giving her a job.”

You snuggled up to Vox’s side as the limo wound its way through Pentagram’s streets. Little by little, you were starting to suspect that Vox’s associates were not nice people.

You were afraid that the five of you would be overdressed until you actually arrived at the party, helped out of the limousine by stately-looking demons, and ascended the steps to the venue. Everyone there looked majestic, in white tie or glittering gowns, tall bird-headed demons mingling with a practical menagerie of others. You found yourself clinging tight to Vox’s arm, and were gratified to feel him shift his grip, his claws sliding down your back to your hip, pulling you against him. The quiet thrum of his body was a comfort, and you grounded yourself with it.

“You gonna be okay?” he asked, his voice a murmur in your ear as the attendants at the door checked his invite and waved the two of you through, Valentino and Angel behind you.

You nodded, though in truth you were still a little intimidated. A bird-headed demon thrumming with power floated past you, accompanied by a pair of hellhounds. “It’s just… sparkly, that’s all.”

“Me and Val are gonna mingle, so take your time looking around. I’ll be right here if you need me. And-” Vox sighed, straightening the lapel of his jacket, the pocket square he wore deep pink to match your hair ornament. “-this should go without saying, but you’re here on my invite, so I’m responsible for your actions. Try not to get yourself in trouble, okay?”

“I won’t.” You looked down, your face hot, your fingers squeezing Vox’s upper arm. “I-” you swallowed, gathering your courage, before raising your head, and planting a single kiss on the edge of his screen. “Thank you, Vox. For everything.”

Vox gave you a look that was meant to be suave. “Anytime, babydoll.”

“So, uh, what are you looking for, exactly?” Angel swayed after you with a backwards glance at Valentino and Vox, and you stopped to let him catch up. “Seems like you’re pretty bent outta shape about it.”

“Vagina,” you answered, your voice soft as you scanned the room from your vantage by the canapé table, dazzled by the reflected light of diamonds and rubies round the throats of the female attendees as you looked for her face. The grey skin, like yours, the aquiline nose, the short white hair. You looked and saw nothing, an ache in your heart.

Angel grinned crookedly. “Well, I’m afraid I can’t help ya much there. Any particular type of vagina or are you not picky? Cuz I do know some people.”

“No.” You shook your head, frustrated. “Vagina is my friend.”

“If you say so.” Angel sighed, grabbing a drink from a passing attendant. “I’m more of a penis man myself, but if I meet any vaginas I’ll send em your way. Later, toots.”

And just like that, you were alone in the crowd, still looking for Vagina's familiar face.

You saw her, across the room, a glimpse through the crowd that had you moving closer to check that you weren’t hallucinating. Her hair was longer than you remembered, a large red satin bow at the back, and she was missing an eye, but you would know that face anywhere. Hope crested in your chest. She was here. She was alive. You could go back. You could take her hand and go back to Heaven and things would go back just the way they were.

“Vagina!” Unable to wait a second longer, you rushed towards her, calling her name, dodging a waiter and a stuffy-looking pair of owl demons.

“Hey!” A hand on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks and you looked up to see a tall blonde girl in a ruby-colored tuxedo, frowning as she looked down at you. “Excuse me! That’s my girlfriend you’re talking to there, you can’t just-”

“Charlie.” Vagina joined you, a soft touch on the tall girl’s arm. “It’s okay. I know her. Can you give us a minute?”

“Oh.” Charlie gave a small smile, looking between you and Vagina. “You know her. Of course you know her! Okay. I’ll just… give you guys some space.”

“Vagina!” Your mouth felt dry, tears beading in the corners of your eyes as Vagina steered you behind a pillar in an unpopulated corner of the ballroom. “Oh thank goodness. You’re safe! Your eye-” you reached out. What had happened to her?

“Stop calling me that.” Vagina pushed your hand away with a scowl. “It’s Vaggie now.”

“Sorry.” You drew away, your back against the pillar. “But it’s okay! I’m here now!”

“Look.” Vagina, or rather Vaggie, sighed, her one remaining eye closing. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but you should go. It’s dangerous here.”

What? The world seemed to stop around you as you stared at her. Of course- she didn’t want to put you in danger. You straightened your back, pulling yourself to your full height, feet a little wobbly in the high-heeled shoes Vox had given you. “I’m an exorcist, just like you.”

“Areola…” Vaggie scrunched her nose. “You’re a janitor. You clean the showers. The only weapon you know is mop.”

You persevered, an ache in the back of your throat. “I came to save you.” That had to count for something, didn’t it? You had come all the way down from Heaven, malformed wings or no, you had risked your life, your immortal soul against the forces of Hell, for Vaggie. She had to be able to see that.

Your statement seemed to have the opposite effect to what you intended, Vaggie’s expression darkening. “Why? I never asked for your help. And I know for sure Lute didn’t send you.”

“Because you’re my best friend.” My only friend, you thought, your bottom lip quivering. “That… that counts for something, right?”

“Oh, for crying out-” Vaggie buried her face in one hand, giving a deep sigh before she looked up at you again. “Let’s set the record straight here. We weren’t friends. We were coworkers.”

You stared, unable to speak, every word out of Vaggie’s mouth like a knife to your chest. All the times you had brought out iced drinks to her when she’d been training, all those times she’d listened to you talk about your day. That had been friendship, hadn’t it? Real friendship? Your hands shook. “But-” you managed to squeak out, feeling like you were falling, as if the floor of the ballroom was dropping deep beneath you.

Vaggie’s gaze went past you, to the milling crowd of dancers, and the tall girl in red. “I don’t need to be saved,” she said. “Go home, Areola.”

It was all you could do not to burst into tears as you watched Vaggie's retreating back, a lump in your throat as she walked away from you, red ribbon bright in her white hair.

“Everything okay?” Vox seemed to sense something was up when you rejoined him, pulling you close, his voice low.

Silently, you shook your head, tears hot and painful in the corners of your eyes. You knew that if you said too much you’d be bawling right in the middle of the dance floor. “Take me home?”

Vox paused a second, watching you, then nodded, slowly. “Car’s on the way. I’ll give the others a call on the way back.”

In the privacy of the limo, you buried your face against Vox's chest, gratitude welling in you as your throat tightened. “I’m sorry, I… I know you had things you wanted to do tonight, I don’t want to be a burden.” You rambled, swallowing a sob.

“Val and Velv will do just fine pissing on people without me,” said Vox, his tone wry.

“Are you my friend, Vox?” you hiccuped, leaning into his chest. “Do you even like me?”

“What kinda dumbass question is that?” Vox’s arm tightened around you. “Someone said I wasn’t your friend?”

“N-no. I just-” your bottom lip trembled. “I found her.” You felt your voice crack. “She said- she said she wasn’t my friend. She said she’d never-” a small sob escaped your lips, and you felt like you were falling again.

“Hey, babydoll.” Vox’s talons caught the underside of your jaw, tilting your head up to face him, until you were staring into his red eyes, the view made blurry by the tears in yours. “Hey,” he repeated, his voice dropping a half octave, and he kissed you, softly, lips brushing yours, fingertips up over your jaw, over your cheek. “You’re my girl. You’re mine. No-one in this city gets to make you doubt that, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured as you found yourself on top of him, your body clinging to his as if he were the only solid thing in the world.

“I know something that will definitely make you feel better.” Vox reached into a compartment under one of the seats and pulled out a small object; a tapered, bulbous cylinder in VoxTek silver, cyan light shining from its contours.

“What is that?”

“Personal massager. Top of the range. Fully submersible, adjustable frequency and torque. Self-warming, body-grade silicone sheathe.”

You glanced up at Vox’s face. This was more than empty commercial copy, a flash of pride in his eyes. “You… helped design it, didn’t you?”

Vox quirked an eyebrow. “If I say yes, will you let me use it on you?”

You felt your face heat. “W-when you say personal massager…”

“I figure a few good orgasms are just what you need right now,” said Vox, eyes half-lidded, grin toothy.

“A few!?” You felt the pulse at the apex of your legs as you remembered what just one had felt like, Vox’s leg between your thighs.

“Lay back, baby,” Vox practically purred. “Let me take care of you.”

You hesitated, a little. Letting this happen to you was clearly not a thing that a good and chaste angel should do.

But what had being a good girl ever got you? You had been good, every day of your life; you had worked hard, and abstained, and been modest and never complained. You’d put yourself in danger, for someone you had assumed was your friend. And what had you gained? Aside from Vaggie’s disdain, the Lieutenant’s disdain, the disdain of every angel who saw your malformed wings and assumed you had done something to deserve it? Maybe this was a part of the grand plan the higher angels were always talking about, paid for in full with your deformity.

Who would even be waiting for you, if you went back to Heaven? Maybe you were meant to fall from grace, here, in Hell, in the arms of the one person who seemed to actually like you.

You placed your hand over Vox’s, fingertips over his blue talons. “I’ve never…” you said.

“I know that, baby.” Vox’s other hand was at the hem of your gown, pulling it up over your calves, over your knees, the fabric a silky whisper against your skin. “All you have to do is lay there and hold your legs open nice and wide for me, let me take care of the rest. Trust me.”

“O-okay.” You closed your eyes, feeling Vox push your skirt up over your thighs, your back flush with his chest as he pulled you into the position he wanted.

“Knees apart, sweetheart,” Vox murmured into your ear, his voice sending a shiver through your core.

You choked back a sob as you parted your thighs for him; one leg slung over his thigh, the other half-bent on the leather seat under you.

“Don’t cry, pretty girl,” Vox rasped, talons tracing thin lines over your knee, your quad, your inner thigh. He trailed the vibrator along the same path, its surface warm as skin as it shivered against your flesh. “I’m gonna make you feel so good you forget everything else that happened tonight.”

You turned your head, pressing the side of your face against Vox’s shoulder, and squeezed your eyes closed as you felt his hands ascend to the apex of your thighs, fingertips teasing at the lacy edge of your panties.

“Hey now, don’t be shy. I can feel how wet you are for me already,” said Vox, his fingers continuing to move. As if to demonstrate his point, he pressed two fingertips to the gusset of your panties, pressing your sex through the fabric in a languid up-down motion, then lifted them to your mouth, brushing the wetness that had seeped through your panties onto your bottom lip.

You opened your mouth, letting Vox slip his fingers inside, and were rewarded with a low groan from Vox as he smeared your tongue with the taste of your own arousal, musky and slick. “My good girl,” he growled, his other hand pushing your panties to the side. “So fucking obedient.”

He teased the vibrator against your outer lips, its setting still a low shiver as he moved it, smearing the arousal that leaked from you up towards your mons and then back down again, his fingers in your mouth echoing the slow, deliberate action. You shifted, and Vox parted your sex with his fingers, the vibrator against your inner lips, then up over the hood of your clitoris. It felt good, better than something this sinful had any right to feel, and you moaned around Vox’s fingers.

“See, baby? Didn’t I tell you I would make it better?” Vox exuded smugness as he kept the vibrator moving, and even if he hadn’t had his fingers in your mouth you weren’t sure you could have formed a coherent response.

Tears slid hot down your cheeks, your mascara running as Vox slid the vibrator over your sex, the shiver it had started with becoming a low thrum as he increased the power. He murmured sweet nothings as he slid it over your inner lips, the barest touch on your clitoris like a beam of heavenly light that had you forgetting that you were in the back of a limo with your sex spread open on a man’s hand.

“Tell me you want it inside,” said Vox, voice low as he pulled his fingers from your mouth, his other hand guiding the vibrator down a little, the thrum of sensation round your entrance, teasing at untouched flesh.

“Vox,” you gasped, as each tilt of his hand brought an answering shiver from your body.

“I wanna hear it, babydoll,” coaxed Vox, his second hand on your inner thigh now, spreading you further apart. “Tell me to fuck you with the toy.”

You swallowed, the concentric circles he was drawing around your entrance at war with the mortification you felt at using such crude language. “P-penetrate me-” you managed, to a soft chuckle from Vox.

“You’re just about the cutest girl I’ve ever fucked, you know that sweetheart?” he said, as he dipped the narrower end of the vibrator into you, just the tip. The sensation made you catch your breath, the thrum of it fluttering against your nerves. “Here you are, wide open for me, my toy in your sweet little pussy-” as if to demonstrate the point, Vox pushed the vibrator in another half inch, then out again, drawing a lewd little whimper from your lips. “-and you can’t even say the word fuck.”

“S-sorry,” you stammered, screwing your eyes shut.

“Don’t be sorry, Ari.” Vox’s lips were in your hair, kissing the beads from your hair ornament aside as he rocked the vibrator in and out of you, his other hand at your sex now, index and ring finger either side of your clit. “You’re my sweet baby girl. All for me, aren’t you?”

“Vox,” you whined, tears threatening to form in your eyes again. “I’m yours.”

“All mine?”

“Y-yes,” you squeaked

“Tell me again. I take good care of my things, babydoll.”

“I’m yours,” you repeated for him. Yours, yours, all yours. And each time your reward was that soft affection, that sound of approval, Vox’s thumb stroking the sensitive nub of your clit, making you squeak, and cry out, all the while the vibrator penetrating you in a shallow rhythm, slipping easily in and out of the slickness of your core. It wasn’t as if anyone else wanted you anyway.

“You’re close,” Vox purred against your ear, and you could feel that he was right; the sensation of his thumb on your clit the most vivid thing in your mind, along with the thrum of the toy against your inner walls. It felt like you were floating, pleasure your only compass, as Vox’s touch urged you to your destination. “Gonna cum with my toy inside, aren’t you?”

You whimpered an affirmative as you crested the wave, your core pulsing, twitching around the intrusion of the toy as Vox’s thumb stilled on your clit, pressing down but not moving.

Vox slipped a finger inside you with a groan, the width of the digit along with the toy bringing with it another round of little quakes. “Cumming hard for me babydoll?”

You gave a mortified little whimper, and Vox’s thumb pressed hard on your clit again, the sensation bringing more aftershocks as you found yourself fluttering round the toy and Vox’s finger.

“Holy shit, you’re still going,” Vox muttered, something like excitement creeping into his voice. “Hope you’re planning on cumming on my dick that hard.”

“I’m not planning!” you protested, to Vox’s indulgent grin.

“Course you’re not, sweetheart.” Vox’s voice was low as he dragged the tip of the vibrator from your still-twitching hole and up over your clit, its setting the gentle shiver that it had started on.

It was both too much and not enough, a flame on nerves already afire, oversensitive and quivering. “Vox!” you cried, hand going to his wrist, and he lifted the toy from your flesh, leaving you aching with its absence.

“Too much?” he asked, a prideful edge to his voice.

“Y-yes,” you admitted, breath coming in fast little pants through your lips.

“You wanna try using it yourself?” Vox pressed the toy into the palm of your hand. “I can talk you through it.”

You nodded, hesitant, and Vox took your hand in his, guiding the toy in your hand back to your slick and quivering sex. “Don’t worry about the settings. I can control those for you. Just press the tip here.”

The toy quivered in your hand as you pressed its bulbous end against your engorged clitoris. A stroke had your eyes fluttering closed, breath catching in your throat as you felt sheer, unmitigated pleasure. You drew back, swallowing saliva before you ventured another touch, a whimper on your lips.

Vox pushed two fingers into you, not the teasing in-out he had done with the toy, but in deep and curling, pressing something sweet at the apex. You drew the toy against your clitoris again, more steadily this time, feeling your body pull taut, a soft, birdlike noise in your throat as Vox’s fingers bullied the tender spot inside you.

“You need a little more power, babydoll?” Vox asked, and you only had to nod for the vibration to intensify, each moment threatening at too much before you drew your hand back, gasping as his fingers squelched in and out of you. “You should hold it there, hold it down, so you can cum round my fingers. Yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you agreed, voice small, bracing yourself for the sensation as you pressed the toy once more against sensitive flesh. The quiver of the toy built into a tremble, the bliss of its touch into something almost painful, and you found yourself biting your lip to not cry out. You couldn’t keep going; it was too much, too much-

“Keep going,” Vox murmured, a light pressure on the back of your hand. You nodded, keeping the quivering toy held against the most sensitive part of you, an insensate noise on your lips as every muscle in your body seemed to shake, your legs drawn wide as they would go, riding bliss upon bliss upon bliss.

“Attagirl,” growled Vox, plunging his fingers in deep, and you were hit by a climax you hadn’t known to expect, a noise from you that was neither dignified nor sexy as your body spasmed, curling in, your thighs closing round Vox’s hands. “Attagirl,” he repeated, as your walls fluttered round his fingers, the vibrator still purring against your overstimulated clit. “Be a good girl and cum again for me now.”

“T-too much,” you whimpered, the rumble of the toy against your nerves threatening to blot out all other sensation, all thought, all language. “Vox, I can’t-”

“You can,” he encouraged, his hand guiding yours, keeping your hand in place, keeping the vibrator in place as you whined and bucked your hips. “See, I’m a very good judge of character, and I wouldn’t give you anything you couldn’t handle. I think you’re a good girl, and you’re gonna cum round my fingers when I ask you.”

“Vox!” your voice was starting to feel hoarse from the moaning, and the curl of Vox’s fingers inside you made you scream. You were still twitching from the previous orgasm as Vox pulled you inexorably to the next one.

“Tell me I’m right. Tell me you’re my good girl,” Vox pushed.

“I’m-” you started but were unable to finish as you crested the wave, pleasure flooding you, leaving you twitching senselessly round Vox’s fingers again, your back arching, thighs squeezing, head back. Vox stole the rest of your words with a kiss, his strange lips against yours as he cupped your chin with a hand coated with your arousal.

Warmth welled in your chest as the kiss deepened, Vox’s tongue twining with yours, the toy stilling as it powered down in your hand. Vox drew his fingers from you, wiping the slick on your bare thigh.

“Doing better now?” Vox asked as you broke the kiss, the limo slowing as it pulled up to the Vee tower.

“Yes,” you admitted, looking down at your rumpled dress, the heeled sandals still on your feet, anywhere but Vox’s smile. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, babydoll,” said Vox, smug as you’d ever seen him. “Let’s say you and I continue this in my room, huh?”

Your legs felt like jelly, but it still surprised you when rather than help you up, Vox simply scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the private elevator that went straight to the penthouse suite, taking the time it took for the elevator to ascend to unlace and remove your shoes, along with Vox’s jacket and tie.

You stroked the sides of Vox’s wide screen as you kissed him, and he carried you unerringly up the small flight of stairs that led to the mezzanine of his living space and through his bedroom door. He spilled you forward, onto the bed, and you sat back, your hands behind you, looking up at him.

Vox was looking at you with unashamed, undisguised desire, two lines of red from the corner of his mouth as he crawled onto the bed after you, pulling your knees apart to kneel between them, your dress once more riding up over your thighs.

“Do you want me?” you asked, quietly, part of you afraid of the answer. “You’re not… you’re not just doing this to make me feel better, right?”

Vox caught your hand by the wrist and pulled it to the fly of his tuxedo pants. Your eyes widened at what you felt there; his erection, hot and stiff and straining at the fabric. “What do you think, babydoll?” He pulled your hand more firmly against his hard-on, rutting against your palm with a movement of his hips, another line of red from his mouth as he did so. “Because I think you should take that pretty dress off for me and let me fuck you into the pillows til you scream.”

“Y-yes, of course.” Gratitude flooded you, your hands going to the clasps of your dress. You found yourself fumbling with it, your fingers shaking as Vox watched.

You failed to undo the same clasp on your side three times before Vox intervened, leaning into your personal space, a gentle hand on yours. “Lemme get that for you, sweetheart,” he said, voice soft enough to set you blushing as he undid the clasp with ease, his fingers finding the zip and easing it slowly down your side.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your cheeks hot, then, because it felt right, “I love you.”

Vox paused, his fingers under the shoulder of your dress, and you felt doubt rise to the surface again.

You looked at him, biting your lip. “I’m sorry, was that too soon? Am I not meant to say that?”

Vox lowered his face to your shoulderblade as he pulled off the shoulder of the dress, screen against skin, kissing his way down your back. “You are three orgasms too far in to be worrying about shit like that,” he said, in a tone that reminded you exactly what each of those had felt like. “You can say whatever you like to me, babydoll.”

“And you won’t leave?”

You felt Vox chuckle, a soft exhalation of breath against your back as he shimmied your dress down over your hips, hooking his fingers through the sides of your panties and pulling them down with it. “Does this look like leaving to you?” he asked, and you gulped, feeling exposed as you were naked under him, a prickling over your skin that had nothing to do with the temperature. “Tell me you love me again. Tell me you’re mine.”

“I love you,” you said, your eyes fluttering closed as Vox maneuvered you onto your hands and knees, lifting your hips a little until the bulge of his erection pressed your ass. “I’m yours.”

“Holy fuck, you’re beautiful, Ari,” Vox’s voice was thick with arousal as one finger stroked your exposed labia, still dripping slick from your adventures in the limo. “You’re gonna let me fuck that beautiful little white feathered pussy of yours, aren’t you?”

“Mm.” You nodded, nose to the sheets.

“Say it for me, babydoll,” said Vox, voice low, his clothed erection still pressing against you.

“I’m gonna let you…” you paused, breathless, searching for a way to paraphrase Vox’s words. “…take me,” you finished lamely. It was ludicrous, really; what you were about to do was something much worse than swearing, and plenty of angels swore, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“Still not gonna swear, huh?” Vox’s hands were gentle over your hips, his voice more amused than annoyed.

Silently, you shook your head.

“That’s okay.” Vox gave your ass a reassuring squeeze. “Still gonna fuck you, though.”

You waited, your face pressed to the soft sheets, your sex presented to Vox, as he unzipped himself and lined himself up. The tip of his cock was warm, running hot like the rest of his body, unfamiliar but not unpleasant as he slid it between your outer lips, gathering slick. You whined as he stroked it against your clit, still oversensitive, and found yourself clutching the sheets between your fingers, your body tensing.

“Ari.” Vox curled himself over you, a kiss between your shoulderblades. “Relax for me, yeah?”

“S-sorry.” You squeezed your eyes shut again, and felt his hand cover yours.

“Don’t be sorry. Just trust me.” Vox’s glans slid over your clit again, back and forth, and you moaned into the sheets at the sensation. “You’re gonna feel so good on my cock, I promise.”

“I trust you,” you whimpered, and Vox lined himself up with your entrance again, the head of his cock teasing it just as the toy had. “That… that feels nice, Vox.”

“Good girl.” Vox pushed himself a little further into you. His cock was wider than the toy or his fingers had been, bringing with it a stretch that had you panting open mouthed into his bedsheets. Another inch and he was pressing the sweetness inside you that his fingers had found, drawing another whimper from you.

“Can you feel me?” he coaxed, pushing further in. “Can you feel me inside?”

His cock inside you was an ache that stirred your guts and left your eyelids fluttering closed, his big hands clasped over yours. I love you, I love you, I love you, lay heavy and sticky as treacle on your tongue as your face pressed into the high-threadcount cotton of his pillows. “It's big,” you murmured. You buried your face deeper in the pillows. “I’m yours.”

“All mine, babygirl,” Vox answered, pushing himself into you a little further, moving one hand onto your hip as leverage. “Fuck, you're doing so good. Taking me so well.”

His knees between your shins, your face to the sheets, you found yourself helpless to do anything but accept him in, soft chirps of pleasure escaping your lips as he stretched your insides to his form.

“Shit, you are incredible. Made for me.” Vox pulled out a little and thrust back in with a snap of his hips, his balls rocking against your clit as he bottomed out again. “You’re gonna look so pretty once you’re all fucked out and filled with my cum.”

You called his name as he pumped his cock into you, one hand reaching round to stroke at your engorged clit, each snap of his hips an obscene squelch, slick dripping down your trembling thighs, his cock both hitting divinity and burning with its stretch, the apex of each thrust leaving you deliciously, sinfully full.

“Be a good girl and cum for me now,” Vox ground out, fingers sliding a cruel back-and-forth across your oversensitive clit, the intensity of the sensation almost painful, making tears bead in your eyes. “Cum on my cock, babydoll, milk me dry.”

You didn’t have words anymore, only sensation as Vox worked you, his voice gentle and coaxing as his hips set a pace that had you crying out into the pillows, fingers on your clitoris first slick pressure and then light as he brought sparking blue energy to his fingertips, moving over your skin and alighting on nerves. You were giving soft cries into the bedding, your throat hoarse as Vox hit sweetness upon sweetness, your body aching with the intensity of it, a string pulled tight, tight, tight.

“You’re close,” Vox told you, words penetrating your brain somehow, his screen pressing close and static-y as his hips and hand kept the rhythm. “Gonna cum with you, okay?”

You nodded, no words, only a string pulled tight, tight, tight as you felt him swell inside you somehow, and a flash of hot, white bliss hit you, your body clenching around him as he pulsed inside you. He was filling you with his seed, a pulse of warmth inside you, and then another, and then another as your walls twitched tight around him.

“Fuck. Ari. So fucking good.” A groan escaped Vox that sounded not unlike a modem noise, his chest against your back, and the lights flickered off, plunging the both of you into darkness.

“Vox?” you asked, in a small, hoarse voice, the only light in the room the dim blue of his screen, his arms wrapping around your chest. His cock, mortifyingly, still inside you. You touched his arm, the back of his hand. “Vox?”

Vox gave an affirmative grunt. “Gimme a minute, sweetheart. Just took out the power in the block- shit.”

You swallowed, a vague feeling of guilt welling in your stomach. “Was it my fault?”

“It happens sometimes, babydoll. Don’t worry about it.” Vox pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Emergency power kicks in in another thirty seconds.”

“So you don’t need to go?”

“No, I don’t need to go.” Vox breathed out, a shuddering exhalation. “Baby, you made me cum so hard I caused a power cut. That means; a) I am not going anywhere in a hurry, so right now I can give you the care and adoration you deserve, and b) you can stop being so damn insecure about it. You got that?”

“I think so.” You found yourself smiling, almost despite yourself, as Vox pulled out of you, his seed dribbling out over your thighs, and rolled you over to face him, your face against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head, the beads in your hair ornament clacking as his lips nudged them. You were dirty now. Ruined. Willingly full of a demon’s seed. Heaven would never take someone like you back.

But Vox’s arms were around you in the low light as the emergency power came on, his screen casting strange shadows across the sheets. And he made you feel warm and happy and safe, in a way no-one in Heaven ever had. You were his. He took good care of his things. In his bed, basking in the afterglow of the orgasm you had shared, was the happiest you had ever been.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the night

lilac, chapter eleven

a/n: just know that my cat stayed glued to my right thigh the entire time I wrote this (even though it wasn't in one sitting, every time she'd be like a moth to a flame. I mean, not that she's not like that all of the time, she is, but it was just especially prevalent throughout this chapter. always the right thigh during this chapter...) so, yeah, I hope that feeling somehow comes across

summary: "what happened? I mean–, I know what happened, but wh-what happened?"

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, angst, hurt/comfort, crying, cuddling, reading

word count: 1648

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Snapping awake with a painful gasp, you shot straight up and the surprising plushness of the mattress below you dipped and bowed at the movement.

The chair that was usually placed in the corner of your room had been scooted closer to the bed and in it, watching over you like a guard dog, sat Frank. As soon as you sprang to life, so did he, rushing out of his seat and closing the distance to your panicked frame. 

Kneeling on the floor beside you, his wide hands instinctively inched closer in a comforting touch, “hey, hey, it’s alright, you’re okay,” although his caress never met your form as they stayed suspended in the air, weary that some man putting his hands on you the very second you woke up properly wasn’t what you needed. 

The initial hyperventilating breaths your lungs had sucked in began to calm as your frantic gaze trained on him and you hoarsely uttered, “Frank?”

Staring back at you, a faint smile twitched at his sombre expression as he exhaled, “yeah.”

Grounding yourself in his coffee gaze, you felt your tense frame begin to thaw as you found yourself melting into his arms, “oh, Frank…” as he enveloped you in his hold, your neck craned to rest your chin upon his broad shoulder, but as you tried to slot into that instinctive embrace, your throat pressed up against him and caused you to jerk back slightly in pain, “ow, fuck…” your brows trembly knitted together as your fingers reached up to ghost over the tender lavender bruise, “…Frank, what–…” but before you could inquire any further, you awoke entirely and recalled just why it hurt so much to speak, “oh god…” averting your gaze, you noticed the wide rectangular bandages that clung to your palms as well as your left elbow, “oh god.” 

“You’re okay,” you watched him place his hand just above one of your sore knees hidden by the duvet, his thumb swiping in a comforting caress, “doctor Díaz made a house call earlier and she said that your injuries are mostly just superficial.”

Forcing a deep breath, you let your eyes drift around the room. The sheer curtains drifted slightly in the calm wind that seeped through the cracked open window, the night sky being softened by the dancing fabric.

“What time is it?” you whispered, although that volume still managed to sting your sore throat.  

“A little past three.”

Turning to look at his kneeling figure, you hesitantly asked, “what happened? I mean–, I know what happened, but wh-what happened? I-is, Preston–”

“Nowhere near here,” he assured you, “how much do you remember?”

Taking a second to ponder, you then uttered, “everything up till you came and then I remember ringing the bell to try and get Otto’s attention,” revisiting the memories brought fresh tears to your eyes, “but not anything else after that… did he hear it? Did he come?”

“Yeah, he did. Took him into custody, but unfortunately, Nilsen didn’t have enough to do any more than put him on a 24-hour hold. So, I took care of it.”

Scarily breathing at all, you couldn’t help but fear the worst in his vague words, “…what do you mean you took care of it? Frank, what did you–… he isn’t–… is he alive?”

Sucking in a controlled breath, his jaw tensely clenched a moment before he answered, “he is… although I’d personally sleep much better at night if he wasn’t, he is. Sheriff Nilsen wasn’t able to do a lot, if anything in this situation, so I made a call to someone I know who can.”

“Who?”

“Someone at homeland who owes me a favour. She should be down here in the morning. I don’t know exactly how much she’ll be able to do, but at the very least she’ll be able to get you one hell of a restraining order, get some eyes on him to make sure he doesn’t try anything again.” 

As you didn’t say anything, simply stared down at your striped duvet, completely stunned, his voice quietly filled the room once more.

“I–…” uncertainty tainted his tone as he tried to read your expression, “it’s your choice what you wanna do. Whatever you want, if you want me by your side, I’ll be there. I just wanted to do something, try and respect your wishes, and if I did the wrong fucking thing, then I’m sorry, but that asshole fuckin–”

“Thank you,” your whisper cut off his desperate words. Eyes fluttering up to meet his, your hand found the top of his, softening it as his gruff knuckles had turned white from how he was clenching the blanket, “I–… I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”

With a soft shake of his head, Frank uttered, “you don’t have to thank me, really.”

Wobbly bottom lip and tears welling up in your weary eyes once more, you leaned forward and buried your head in his chest, his palms swiftly finding your back in soothing patterns as you trembled, letting it all unravel just a tad at the newfound relief.

Soft sobbing swiftly turned into weeping, and as more and more of your tears stained the cotton of his shirt, you heard yourself muttering wistfully, “I can’t believe you’re here…” 

“I am,” his hand gently ran up and down your trembling spine, “is that alright?”

Nodding against his chest, you thought back as you cried, “you came. You found me just in time.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he let out a low sigh, “as long as you’ll want me to, I’ll always find you.”

It seemed an impossible task to fall back asleep and face the potential nightmares that would no doubt plague you, so instead, to make the dark night gently pass, you found yourself curled against Frank’s chest as he had joined you against the headboard. One of his hands permanently clasped in yours, the other held up a nostalgic book from your childhood, rediscovered upon the shelf in the corner that still carried all of the old tales that you were brought up on.

Laying there, tangled together, your gaze rested on the view of the slowly rising sun outside as you listened to Frank’s quiet reciting. But as your vision soon shifted and glided across the ceiling, a thought suddenly struck you.

“Y/n?” Frank gently cut through your haze after a few moments of silence, waiting for you to turn the page as you had done for him since you took one of his hands captive. 

“Sorry,” you softly shook your head, blushing slightly as you shared, “it just occurred to me that you’ve never been in my room before now…” 

“That’s true,” he murmured softly.

“It just feels a little weird…” your gaze flickered to the worn teddy bear that now simply decorating the top of your dresser, “like you can see into my brain…”

Breathing out a smile, he lowered the open book to be even closer to your reach, “you mind turning the page?”

Mirroring his content expressions, you reached up to flip over to the next part of the story, but just as you did, a gentle knock echoed at your door.

“Just a second!” you called, winching slightly as the higher volume stung like sandpaper scraping out of your throat. Letting Frank’s hand go, you scooted back a bit as you separated, waiting till he was situated back in the armchair before you said, “come in.”

Creaking open the door, you watched as your father gingerly stepped inside, his gaze locked upon the steaming tray balanced in his hands. 

“Alright, potato leek soup and ginger tea with honey,” he sat it down on your bedside table, “careful it’s hot.”

Sucking in a deep breath as the aromatics began to fill the room, you looked up at him and offered an exhausted smile, “thanks, dad.”

Sighing lowly, you could tell he was trying to stay stoic as his empathetic gaze washed over you, his head lightly cocking to his side as he asked, “are you okay, pumpkin? Is there anything else I can do for you? Do you have enough pillows?”

“Yeah, I have enough pillows,” a slight chuckle managed to roll off your tongue, “although now that you mention it,” you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “I was actually thinking about lying low for a little while, just until all the bruises and stuff aren’t as noticeable anymore. I just don’t think I can deal with all of the questions and comments right now.”

“Well,” the moustachioed man’s eyes narrowed in thought, “there aren’t any guests staying on the entirety of the second floor, so if you want to, you can just bunk out up there. We could set up a sign in the stairwell or something saying that there is construction going on, which wouldn’t be a lie, but nevertheless, would ensure that no one bothers you.”

“Oh, I-I could,” your eyes flicked to Frank’s for a moment in hopes it would grant you the strength needed to share, “but I was actually planning on going to stay at Pete’s for a little while. You know, his cabin is so secluded and–“

“Oh, right, of course,” your father chuckled, giving his noggin a light tap as if that should have somehow been his first guess, “sorry, I guess I just didn’t wanna assume that after all of that, you wanted to go hang out with your guy, if anyone–”

“My what?” you chuckled, eyes growing wide, though the dumbfounded laugh faded as you took in the nonchalant expression plastered upon your dad’s face, “wait…” your brows knit together, “you know?”

“What?” the weathered man simply stood there, nearly resembling a child as he shrugged, “was it supposed to be a secret?”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[outofangband]

Gardens of Lórien headcanons

The Gardens of Lórirn are the realm of Irmo and Estë in Valinor. Canon details are sparse though the book of lost tales has some lovely descriptions

Reposting from yesterday because of a few mistakes!

I might make a follow up with more cultural headcanons and I will be updating my elven states of consciousness and sleep and dream thoughts

Awhile ago I wrote a collection of quick descriptions of the realms of the Valar! I want to make a longer series of posts and ever since I made a board for Lórien I wanted to make a collection! Let me know where you’d want to see next!

I headcanon Lórien as a sprawling, labyrinthine realm of mazes, glades, springs and forests. There are similar disorienting effects throughout as around the borders of Melian's realm. It is incredibly difficult to navigate Lórien without the aid of a Maia and elven devotees to Irmo can spend centuries or longer learning the cartography of the realm. No in depth, accurate maps exist for Lórien.

The temperature is mild and warm with an average 24 degrees Celsius (around 75 degrees Fahrenheit) though like many of the Valar’s realms it can shift and change at the behest of the rulers. Caves, sides of streams and strange spots in the forest might be ten or twenty degrees cooler.

Parts of Lórien are dark and parts are dim, like twilight. This has been true even before the rising of the sun and moon. There are glades that can induce sleep to non Ainur within minutes or even seconds of entering

In the book of lost tales, we learn that Yavanna gifted cedars and yew trees and pines and a huge cypress tree. I really love this and think there’s no reason it couldn’t be true in canon as well. Cedars and pine are likely the most common trees with willows, alders and birch.

I talked about this being true in general in Valinor here in some places but in Lórien there are turns, glens, and clearings that seem shift and change, being there one day and not the next. Time and space can stretch Even while walking known paths, there is always the possibility of ending up in a hidden clearing, covered in hanging mosses and with strange lights of glow worms all around.

While Lórien and especially Estë’s island are a place of refuge and rest, wandering them without aid can have strange and disorienting effects for most elves especially those unused to the realm.

The gardens of Lórien do indeed contain many formal gardens. These places are somewhat more neutral and can be endured without mind altering effects for longer. They are vibrant, with hummingbirds, dragonflies, tree frogs, salamanders, and a variety of butterflies and moths.

Paths are often sheltered by a crisscrossing canopy of flowering trees and vines; lilacs, wisteria, phlox, honeysuckle, Viburnum and rhododendron for just some examples

Irmo enjoys the elves and interacting with them. Though his typical form and countenance can be unsettling, even dangerous to elves, he very much likes to spend time among them. He has a slightly larger number of devotees in Valinor than the other Fëanturi and Estë has a number of students though who mostly learn from her Maiar rather than from her. There is a feast in Lórien held occasionally and without a patterned schedule. Attendees will wind their way through the mazes to join Irmo and his Maiar in a secluded area where the soft scent of flowers is itself hypnotic. These celebrations are not without risks. One or more guests are likely to fall into states of vivid dreams of hallucinations and many intentionally invoke altered states under the guidance of the Maiar.

Estë has no large celebrations and like Námo, most of her traditions are conducted only among her students and followers. There are occasional small events where offerings of herbal plants are brought to Lórien though these are arranged by the Vanyar and Teleri and not by Estë herself

In Beleriand, luna moths are highly associated with Melian and with Lórien (the place and the Vala). They symbolize night, dream, and desire and appear as motifs in a lot of later Sindar poetry and art

[kaihuntrr]

A bunch of Scott designs I did for warmups <3 using my personal head canons for each one! Explanations for their looks and ‘names’ down below!

Life Series: Scott!

I love all of them so much,, I wanted to keep their outfits and general vibes simple, they’re all pretty but also some practicality in their wardrobes as they are in some type of survival game ehe.

3rd Life: Poppy

Self explanatory name, this version of Scott is the sweetest and the most disconnected from the survival games. He only wanted to live with his husband in their little paradise in forms of flower valleys and endless wheat fields, completely isolated from the war. His outfit is of a gardener, overalls and a sunhat with his and Jimmy’s favorite flower; poppies. He grew out his hair and ties it, not wanting it to be in the way of his work. He is overly protective of his husband, wanting to keep him safe and away from danger for as much as he possibly can. A widow’s rage is something else.

I imagine 3rd Life designs to be more humanoid, so Scott here is an elf! This soul of his moved on to Empires, where he spends the rest of his days with his husband in sweet bliss.

Last Life: Star

Earned the name after being victorious in the game of betrayal. A guiding star to others, he keeps the titular mark on his forehead for the remainder of his time in the Life Series due to being a winner, a reminder of him losing his final life to a lightning bolt. He is the most cunning, using his wits and trust to be a strong ally. He lived in the center of all the chaos with his partner, his best friend Pearl, using little moths to communicate to each other. With sheltered forests and a cottage as their ‘home’, he has deer-like features and antlers to boot. Perhaps this was an attempt to recreate a copy of Poppy, as he has some memories of ‘his’ previous life. He dresses in a neat dress shirt and vest, matching with his best friend and fitting the aesthetic of their pretty house in the woods. Just don’t touch the wall, please.

I wanted to use yellows for this design, as he starts off with two lives! Plus, the contrast looks so good <3 this soul is the host of future life seasons, having full clarity of this life when he goes into future events. Once a series is over, all precious memories will wash over him and the star will hover over his head. This is his ‘real’ form, his ‘winning’ soul.

Double Life: Venus

Named after the brightest ‘star’ next to the moon, he feels isolated. He felt something familiar as he was brought into this life, but he never expected to be connected to Pearl. He shouldn’t blame her, but he doesn’t deal well with being alone. Somehow, he still has a brief memory of Poppy’s as he feels.. something when Jimmy’s soulbound isn’t with him. He loves being with Cleo, his chosen soulmate, and being Pearl’s soulbound meant he could feel her frustration and loneliness. Should he have been there for her? Likely. He couldn’t bare seeing her face again. He couldn’t bare losing her again. Not again. Maybe it was better this way, they’re both hurting. He hopes this is better.

I used green as he was green in his iconic and heartbreaking moment of splitting off with Pearl and Martyn to join up with Cleo, and also I can remember him being mostly green until Pearl ups and ruins that- he’s a ram, his horns shifting to ram horns to solidify his stubborn nature to reconnect, and a general ranch aesthetic given he and Cleo made a whole soulmate ranch thing. The hair over his eyes are to hide his teary eyes, still missing and hurting over his soulmate.

Limited Life: Coral

A fitting name for the person who established the Coral Isles. The cottage was in the middle of it all, so he wanted his life to be away from all the drama, just by the side of the map near the ocean to relax. Unfortunately, things just won’t stop coming for him. Be it being the boogeyman first, allying with someone who you swore was supposed to kill you, and more memories of your past life you don’t understand coming back to haunt you, it’s a little too much. He can’t help but be flirty with Martyn though, the man definitely bites back. He finds his partner’s overprotective-ness rather adorable, and he’d do anything for him back, even give him time.

Fish!! Drastically different than my AU design, which is good- used his red skin as he did wonderfully as a red name and whenever I think of Limited Life I’d always think of Red Scott, which I adore <3 he does have long hair, can’t not have his long hair for him!

Until series five comes out, these are my thoughts and ideas for Life Series Scott! I’d love to write out possible interaction ideas but I’m afraid this post might be too long LMAO- a good break from Sea Prince content, but I absolutely adore the life series and the pseudo-story I have for this guy in particular. Who knows, you might see fullbodies of them in the future? :D no promises!