#haven't drawn a bird in a while

[vela-pulsars]

Reborn

[askymzbuki]

Metro

[wolfoftonight]

Assorted warm up sketches

[analligatorr]

Do you draw animals? If you do, do you have any animal you really like to draw?

I do!! i mean, i'm not very good at this, but i love drawing insects, beetles, moths, dragonflies, i usually did it in my sketchbook, but well, it got totally ruined because of the rain T____T

[beanskitsune]

Crashout

[otterbiscuits]

orthur. we're animals, orthur. This is me remembering that animals are a thing, and I haven't drawn them in a while. SO I hit two birds with one stone.

I was told by someone once that my work made them think of the Cartoon Saloon films. That's one hell of a compliment that will hang in my brain forever. I saw Wolf Walker during Covid, and it influenced how I go about art, funny enough. I don't think I noticed until someone pointed it out years later.

I don't know how Malevolent got dragged into these style/animal study pages, but, what the hell, sure.

[feralforfrank]

simon riley x fem!reader

simon gets hit by an umbrella like three times, sorry for not knowing proper british and scottish slang, i'm greek and trying my best 👍🏻 implied age gap (reader is in uni)

holidays in Edinburgh, part 1/?

the 141 is home for the holidays. home being all over the uk, with gaz and price spending their time somwhere in the country with their partners and simon accompanying johnny and his partner in Edinburgh. johnny insisted he come along, Edinburgh is full of bonnie birds, you never know, you might meet your match, lt.

you're miserable. spending yet another holiday in a foreign country, isolated in your flat with only your cat, warm tea, and a book to pass the time. you couldn't go back home due to finals starting soon, and your parents decided to spend Christmas in warm weather down under (Australia).

it's not half as bad, you try to convince yourself. your flat is quiet, as are the neighboring ones and the building in general. your bedroom window overlooks a busy street, and you envy those who flood them with shopping bags and smiles. you haven't made that many friends, and the ones you have are already visiting their hometowns. the upside is that you're in a warm, comfortable space while others are freezing their pinkies off.

even johnny is gone. the loud scot from next door, a guy you had disliked at first without having officially met him - thin walls was the only bad thing this building has, and you were forced to listen to him do everything, from weight lifting, to watching tv, to having sex - but when you bumped into each other your opinion changed drastically. a gentleman, funny and light-hearted. he hadn't taken to heart your complaints about the noise, only promising to take it down a notch.

without the muffled sounds of his tv to annoy you - his partner had apologised for the volume, saying he's partially deaf in one ear from having been too close to explosions way too many times - you were left reading your book in silence. maybe you'd go to the grocery store later, stock up so you won't need to leave your house - the weatherman said it's going to get colder, heavy snow expected.

johnny hands simon the keys to his flat. him and his bird are going to the supermarket, there's nothing in the fridge or the cupboards for the next few days. the scot told him to take a shower, relax and make himself at home until they come back, and he didn't have to be told twice with the biting cold making his nose stuffy.

johnny's building is freshly painted to look new on the outside but old on the inside. he's been here before, and he remembers mactavish struggling to open his front door sometimes, for the lock got stuck.

he tries to reenact the technique his best friend uses to get in, trying his hardest to open the door gently instead of pushing with his shoulder like he does back at his own flat. he turns the key one, two, three times and pulls forward softly, trying to turn the key for the fourth and final time.

fuck. you gotta be fucking joking.

"fuckin' hell."

he tries again. and again, this time throwing his bag on the floor. the door rattles as he uses a bit more force, frustration building steadily and quickly.

you press play on spotify, the familiar voices of joe and frank from the basement yard podcast filling your ears. your headphones are pushing the hair out of your face and also act as ear muffs. you check your coat pockets for your phone and keys, nodding to yourself before kissing your cat goodbye. you promise her treats from the grocery store.

at first, you don't notice the hunk of a man at the door next to yours. the podcast is on full volume and your securing your scarf around your shoulder. it's when you turn to shut your door that you freeze mid-step.

in front of you, with is back turned to you, there's a giant guy pressing all his weight to johnny's door. he's wearing all black, hood drawn up, which makes this situation much much scarier.

fuck fuck fuck fuck. what the fuck. he's tryinf to break in the flat. oh fuck fuck fuck, what do i do? has he noticed me? he hasn't turned around yet. what the fuck. shit fuck. FUCK. what the fuck?!

your body reacts a few seconds later. with wide eyes and pursed lips, you hold your breath, and take a step inside your home. half your body is outside, facing him incase he decides to turn around and your arm is blindly reaching for your big umbrella.

once you have a stready hold on it, you don't hesitate to take two big steps forward and hurl it on the intruder's neck. your headphones for on your shoulders, and you hit him again, and this time he physically recoils.

you hit him another time, not quite as hard, and flinch at the sound the plastic makes against his jacket but you're gaining confidence as he grunts in pain. you shout something at him, something about this being karma for trying to break into somebody else's house, and he yelps something in response, but the blood rushing in your ears is louder than your voices.

you swing the umbrella back to hit him again, gathering all the courage you can muster for a final blow. you take a millisecond more to do so and he has time to move before it can connect with his back. unfortunately for the guy, the umbrella hits the side of his face.

he yelps and you drop it with a gasp, hands covering your mouth in shock.

his face is still hidden under his hood, but his ungloved fingers reach for his cheek, where the tip of the umbrella connected.

there's a moment of silence. your eyes are wider than before, as wide as saucers, and you're breathing heavily like him. you're scared beyond your mind, the fear having paralysed you once again. you stand there watching him rub his face witha grunt.

"you fuckin' crazy or wha', lady?!" he finally speaks with gritted teeth. his accent is hot. "'m not a fucking intruder."

oh shit.

"...you're not?"

"no, the fuck 'm not," he says calmly, and your heart rate picks up. "would an intruder have keys to the bloody flat?" he shows you the keys and you gasp softly, recognising johnny's scottish flag keychain.

"i'm—oh," your hands reach out as you try to approach him. "i'm so terribly sorry, i just—mactavish isn't home and you're huge and you were throwing yourself at the door and you have your hood up and you're so. fucking. big, i thought you were trying to rob the place—" you take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts - you just beat a guy with an umbrella for no fucking reason!!!!!! ‐ "here, let me help you." you signal for him to enter your flat.

simon watches you for a moment. flushed cheeks, eyes glassy and overflowing emotions, hands waving frantically as you open your own door wider for him to walk in.

he should refuse. flat out say no. you just attacked him with an umbrella for fucks sake. it's still in your trembling hands. he should refuse. but you said mactavish. you know johnny. and he knows himself. he must've looked terrifying to you, back hunched over the lock, shoulder pushing on the old wooden door.

you look genuinely sorry and worried, very willing to let him into your home, even though he hasn't given you any information about himself. for all you know, he could've stolen the keys from johnny or his bird, he could be a proper burglar.

he should shake his head and turn your back on you. it doesn't even hurt. he's had worse. he thinks his cheekbone might have a scratch, but he's fine. ghost has been through torture before - your hits are nothing compared to that.

but you're pretty. extremely so.

so, he nods slowly, removing his hand from his cheek and grabbing his duffel bag from the ground. you wait by the door, watching his every move as he walks in.

you point to your kitchen chair, he sits - he's so imposing, your kitchen seems smaller with him in it - and you immediately rush for a pack of beans from the freezer and a towel.

"put this on your cherk," you instruct and disappear somwhere further inside the flat. he watches you.

when you come back you have rubbing alcohol, cotton pads and a packet of band-aids. simon begins to stand.

"'s not necessary. 's barely a scratch, ma'am."

you don't even look at him as you set the stuff down. he stares at you. "no, no, i feel terrible - the least i can do is fix your face."

"you sayin' my mug is ugly?"

you pause, head snapping to the side to meet the stranger's eyes. you frown, another apology ready to escape your lips.

he's smirking. right corner of his lips tilted up. he's joking. your shoulders sag and you exhale with a smile.

"no, your face is quite nice, stranger."

it is. strong features, long nose - looks to have been broken a hundred times - some scars here and there, long eyelashes and pretty brown eyes.

"simon. simon riley."

simon. nice name - suits him. friend of johnny's, you remember. probably military, judging by the width of his back. and the unintenional scrutinising and intimidating gaze.

you introduce yourself, breath hitching when he repeats your first name slowly.

"pretty name." you shrug, grabbing a wet cotton pad and slowly moving it towards him. he doesn't pull away, and you press it against the small scratch on his cheek as he speaks. "suppose a pretty girl deserves a pretty name."

you chuckle, heat rising up your neck and spreading to your cheeks as you move on to the pack of band-aids.

"so, you know johnny?" you ask.

"saved his ugly mug a coupl'a times. we're spending christmas here."

your smile falters as you stick the small band-aid on his cheek (only now realising it has anakin skywalker printed on it). you're once again reminded of how lonely you'll be during christmas. simon notices it, but hesitates asking if you're okay.

"sorry for the uh, band-aid. uh, i don't have any normal ones." he brushes it off with a shake of his head. "you're good to go, now. i'm sure you have things to do."

simon silently gets up and grabs his things, all while watching you put your coat and scarf back on. whatever light you had on your face moments before is gone, and he's trying to figure out what he said wrong to cause this.

he follows you out of the flat, mind forming different ways to ask if something's wrong. he can't help but ask when he hears you sigh heavily, almost defeated.

"you okay, love?"

"huh—what?" you look at him once and then continue locking your door.

"you alright? did i say something that upset you?"

your smile returns with his words, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes.

"no, i'm all good, don't worry. just don't want to go for groceries in the freezing cold, ya know?" he nods, jiggling johnny's keys in his hands. "anyway, it was nice meeting you, simon. and i'm really sorry for thinking you're an intruder and hitting you with my umbrella and whatnot. i hope to see you around - have fun!"

and before he can ask where you're spending your christmas, or why you're going to the supermarket instead of packing to go back to wherever your home is - your accent clearly indicates you're not from edinburgh, as if the books, pens, and scattered notebooks at your home were not enough - you're walking down the stairs and dissappear from his eyesight.

simon stands for a moment before turning to the door again. you're interesting, to say the least, and you said his face was...nice - he doesn't get that often. and you have band-aids with Star Wars characters, and you laughed at his joke. and you were brave enough to attack him when you thought he was a burglar.

yeah, he hopes to see you around too.

[americaswritings]

Voices of Roses and Ruin

Warnings: Psychological torture, manipulation, Coriolanus being himself

Summary: Coriolanus is forced to watch the gamemaker use his voice against you in the arena.

Words: around 2k

Pairing: Young Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: I watched TBOSAS yesterday and yeah don't judge me but young Snow is hot and I shipped him and Lucy Gray a lot (until it all went downhill cough cough). Obviously he's horrible and does many unspeakable things later (!!!). But I think the idea of a love story between a mentor and their tribute has so much potential and when I saw the birds in the film I thought of this idea.

This is written from Coriolanus perspective (I haven't read the book yet. I just bought it and I'm so excited to read it!). I obviously wanted this to be about real feelings, but I tried to stay true to his character so there are some 'questionable' and alarming thoughts and motifs in here.

Can be read as Lucy Gray x Coriolanus Snow here

Part II | Masterlist

Coriolanus had thought watching you in the arena, alone and scared, hiding from a pack of murders that were hunting for your life was among the worst things he had ever gone through, but nothing could have prepared him for the Gamemaker’s new horrendous plan.

He was tired, just as you were, but refused to go home like most students had done. Instead his head was resting in his hand as he kept watching your sleeping form, as if he could protect you if he just kept his eyes on the screen and on the lookout for a potential threat.

He wouldn’t be able to do anything for you, if the pack of murders found you. He couldn’t warn you or give you advice.

All he could do was sit here and watch and he found himself thinking if this was not the worst torture of them all; being trapped here while you were out there and all he could do was watch.

You were trembling in your sleep, if from the cold or fear he didn’t know, but he kept his expression carefully guarded as he felt his own heart breaking bits by bits.

Even there covered in dirt, with your hair a wild mess and your clothes strained with mud you looked breathtaking to him.

You were pretty, there was no denying that. Everyone else saw it too. He saw it in the way heads turned for you, men‘s eyes raking over your body like you were theirs to take.

He hated it, every part of it.

They all deserved to die.

But it wasn’t your looks that had drawn his attention to you. What had fascinated him. He liked to think he wasn‘t shallow like most people and blinded by pretty things.

No, what has drawn him to you was the way you carried yourself. The confidence you wore like an amour. Yet you were breakable at the same time.

You seemed to be made up of duality; strong but so weak, fierce but uncertain, opinionated but withdrawn, stubborn but helpless.

You were a dangerous little thing and a petite fragile flower at once. Drawing all eyes on you but forgotten due to your ordinariness by most after a moment.

Not by him though. To him you could never be ordinary.

It was frustrating and captivating and alluring.

Naturally, his constant worry for you since you had entered the arena stemmed from his will to get the scholarship. It was what he deserved and he would claim it.

Tht was why he was so engaged in saving you, not because of the deep unease he felt when he saw you in that arena, your eyes drifting around frantically until they passed a camera and he could have sworn they had locked on his for a moment.

It had nothing to do with the way his whole body seemed to light up when you smiled or the invisible pull he felt towards you when you were in the same room as him.

He definitely didn’t want to kiss you and he didn’t dream about you since the reaping, when his eyes had fallen on you for the first time and he had only thought one thing: You’re mine now.

Mine to claim, to showcase, to protect.

He had gone into the mentorship thinking he would use you to serve him and his purpose of getting what he deserved, but as he watched you now, still rooted in his chair although a deep exhaustion weighted down his body, he knew he was serving you.

Being here with you every second of the way. Vowing to protect you. Whatever it took.

You awoke from your restless sleep right before the screaming started. In an instant you were up, your eyes widened in panic as you gazed around, trying to locate the source. With the rest of the students that had stayed Coriolanus flinched in his seat, leaning forward to try and help you figure this out.

As quickly as it had started the screaming stopped and for a moment you were one, both breathing and blinking heavily as your mind tried to make sense of what happened.

And then he heard a voice. His voice. “Follow me.”

He forgot to breathe for a moment as he stared at what was happening in pure shock. You seemed just as confused, turning around in circles as you tried to find him there.

„Coriolanus?”, you whispered and took a step forward, towards the voice. “Follow me”, it whispered again and he watched you do.

No, no, no.

Around him he heard chuckles from the other students, but he drowned them out. All he could focus on was you, following his voice through the darkness. “Where are you?”, you hissed, your eyes darting around. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here for you.”

He sank lower in his seat, wishing himself somewhere else. It wasn’t him saying the words, obviously, but it was his voice and everyone could hear it, see you follow it.

He hoped people would laugh about you. About your nativity and the brilliant idea of the gamemaker to use your mentors voice against you. Hell, he didn’t even care, if they thought you might have a silly little crush on him and the gamemaker used it against you.

Because if people knew the whole truth, he couldn’t imagine the catastrophe that would follow.

The truth that there was something between the two of you, the mentor and the tribute. That it was something he couldn’t explain, but had let him do dangerous things. Break rules. Forget himself.

The truth that this might not be him speaking those words now, but that he had spoken them to you once. Had they been listening all this time?

His stomach twist in terror as he tried to remember all you had shared with each other, all he had said to you. Promised you.

It would ruin him.

“I can’t see you”, you whispered now, being led further into darkness.

Damn it, think! He wanted to yell at you. It’s not me. I’m not there.

There was no reason for him to be there.

Except…there was.

“I’m here to see you. I won’t let anything happen to you!”

“How cute”, one girl hissed in his ear, but he remained stoic. “She’s as dumb as they come”, another said and he wanted to punch her. Enjoy the feeling of triumph when she looked at him in horror and didn’t dare open her mouth again.

“Looks like you’re guiding her straight to her own death. How ironic.”

And it was ironic.

Maybe in his attempt to protect you, save you, all he had done was ruined your one chance.

All he had said to you to make you trust him and then because he hadn’t been able to stop himself were used against you now and all he could do was watch. Keeping his face carefully blank he shut out their voices. They didn’t matter.

Finally he saw you hesitate. Maybe you had remembered his exact words or maybe you realized that you weren’t getting anywhere. That if it truly was him he would have just stepped out of the shadows and shown his face. “Is this real?”

Oh how funny it was to the people around him. He hated them all. Every single one.

Your words hit a mark. They pierced right through his heart, because he had said them to you. Whispered them. Before your farewell, when he had visited you one last time.

Your faces had only been separated by a few inches and he had fought the urge to kiss you right there and then. But he couldn’t.

Because of everything, but also because it felt too much like goodbye. It was stupid, but if he didn’t give into the temptation then, a part of him hoped it meant you would come back to him.

That your chapter wasn’t over, your story just starting. He would kiss you when you won. When there was a chance for a future with you.

Still those words had escaped his mouth, like he needed the reassurance that you felt the same way. That this meant something, so much that it was worth the risk.

Coriolanus leaned forward in his seat, hope blossoming in his chest. He didn’t know why whatever game they were playing with you hadn’t affected the other tributes yet, but he was sure their time would come.

And right now it seemed you wouldn’t fall for their tricks. Because there could come no answer to your question, as he had been the one asking it.

But he had underestimated the gamemakers.

Instead of a reply there came a scream and then a groan. “Coriolanus?” “Help me!”, he heard himself yelp. What?! He had never sounded like that.

But then flashes came back to him. The bombs. How the arena had collapsed, almost burying him alive. He would have died there, if it hadn’t been for you.

You had saved him.

But how in the hell did they get his voice now?!

“Coriolanus!”

Gone was the glimpse of hesitance and suspicion and you began sprinting into the direction the voice was coming from.

No!

He watched with dread as you ran directly towards the sound. It’s not real, he whispered, knowing you couldn’t hear him but desperately hoping somehow his words would reach you.

When you stumbled upon a clearing you jerked to a stop, twisting and turning, your gaze furiously searching for something.

“Coriolanus! Tell me where you are!” But he could only hear his own painful screams, in between pleading for your help. Sounds he was certain he had never made.

What was this?

With a stab of pain he saw your face was tearstained. You were crying. For him. For someone from the capitol.

Was this what the gamemaker wanted?

Whatever you did or said would never matter again.

All everyone would see when they looked at you now was the broken girl in a dark forest, all alone and desperate and crying for a man she never stood a chance with.

A man who knew hunger just as you did, who in a way fought for survival every day too. But they would never see that, because unlike you he wouldn’t let them. Where you had no choice, he still had one. And he was watching that one chance crumble in front of him.

Flashes of a better life filled his mind.

A house. Plates of food. Tigris smiling. His uniform, a real one made from the finest materials hanging draped neatly over a chair. Laughter echoing through the corridors and then a flash of your face as you stepped into the room, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you leaned over the desk to peek a look at what he was working on.

It was the life they deserved, he deserved, if he got the scholarship. But you were there too. Alive and well, just as breathtaking. And you were his.

There had never been the choice between the scholarship and you, because they were one. Your life was connected to it and so his was to yours.

But now he could loose both and he felt the agony of that thought travel through his whole body.

The screaming seemed to be everywhere and he watched helplessly as you bent forward, covering your ears. All he wanted was to get the screaming to stop, wrap his arms around you and tell you everything was okay.

Instead he forced a neutral expression on his face, as if seeing you break didn’t break him the same way and pray for this hell to end.

Part II

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[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [10]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4.5k

Trigger Warnings: graphic violence/torture, gore, implied mutilation

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 9 | Fic Masterlist | Part 11

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Wooyoung called out, entering the general's study with Jongho following closely behind, having been summoned to the estate.

Seonghwa looked up from his desk, "Ah yes, I heard you turned down the bonus incentive we offered. Why is that? Is there something else that you wish to have?"

Having encountered few who would refuse extra money, your husband found it hard to comprehend the private investigator's decision. Most people around him were usually drawn by the allure of his wealth or other associated benefits, which left him curious about Wooyoung's motives for declining the bonus. Surely, there was something specific he desired.

The younger man beamed, "My lord, I wasn't working so willingly for you because I wanted something more from you. Honestly, nothing makes me happier than being recognised by you! I just... okay, maybe there is one thing I really want."

Raising his brow, the general was not surprised by the sudden admission, "Go on, name it then."

With a cheeky grin, the investigator replied, "It's that you allow me to help you with whatever problems you have now!"

Your husband rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "What do you mean? I have no problems now; the worst is over."

"Really? Is that why you're here sulking alone instead of being with Lady Park? You clearly want to be near her, and yet, here you are, staying away from her because you haven't a clue how to face her after the traumatising ordeal you put her through yesterday."

That finally piqued Seonghwa's attention, prompting him to sit up straighter, though he attempted to maintain a nonchalant demeanour, "H-how did you figure that out?"

Without waiting for Wooyoung's response, he shook his head, "No, wait, actually, I don't want to know that. Just tell me... what should I do? I realise I haven't considered well enough what she went through, but I... I've never had to care for someone like this before, and I'm not really sure how to..."

The investigator offered an understanding smile, "My lord, the key to any relationship is communication. You need to talk to Lady Park. Ask her how she's feeling, and tell her you're sorry for what she went through. Avoiding each other won't solve anything; it will only create more distance between you two. You're her pillar of support now, and she needs to feel that you're there for her. You both deserve happiness, but it starts with open and honest communication."

Absorbing the advice, the general nodded thoughtfully, "You're right, Wooyoung. I appreciate your straightforwardness. I'll go talk to her and make things right."

Without hesitating, he sprang from his chair and made his way out of the study. The assistant and his friend couldn't contain their laughter, covering their mouths with their hands, but quickly composed themselves when Seonghwa glanced back at them, "Oh, and please, accept the bonus. You deserve it, especially after this."

Before Wooyoung could object, he had already exited the room and was rushing down the path toward the House of Lotus, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing his wife again.

He remembered how quiet you had been during the entire journey back home the day before, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. While you weren't overtly distant or cold to him, you seemed lost in thought throughout dinner. You excused yourself early, retiring to your quarters. The atmosphere carried an unspoken tension, making him hesitant to say anything for fear of your potential reaction.

Reflecting on it, he realised he should have assured you that things would be better from that point forward. Rather than maintaining a facade of normalcy, he regretted not breaking the silence and being there for you in that moment of unease.

His steps hesitated, and his breath deepened as you finally appeared in his line of sight, seated alone in the pavilion outside your room. Your lady etiquette books lay open beside you, but the faraway look in your eyes remained glued to the horizon beyond the lotus pond. For a moment, he stood there, appreciating your beauty, suddenly feeling thankful you looked nothing like your father.

However, as soon as you turned your head slightly and noticed him standing by the entrance, he blinked rapidly, feeling flustered. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and approached you.

Just go talk to her, you fool.

Seeing him approach, you closed the books and made room for him to sit in the small pavilion. He offered a warm smile, "Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you or anything."

Shaking your head, you returned a small smile, "No, not at all. I tried to study, but I just... I couldn't."

As he settled down beside you, reaching for your hand, you didn't flinch or pull away. He released a relieved breath and moved closer, "It's alright, you don't have to force yourself. I know you're probably upset with me. I... I'm sorry, my dear."

Lifting your head to meet his eyes, you furrowed your brows, "What? Why would I be upset with you?"

He winced, wondering if you were intentionally testing him to see if he knew what he did wrong. But then again, he knew you would never do anything like that. Sighing, he admitted, "Look, I know I should've thought things through better yesterday. I was so focused on wanting to punish your family for what they did, I forgot about how horrible it must have been for you to go back there and sit through all of that."

"I acknowledge it was a mistake. My intention was to give you a chance to confront your family by taking you to your old room. I didn't think it would affect you so badly. I realise now that it was a misguided decision, and I regret taking you back to that place. I'm a goddamned idiot."

His admission tugged at your heart, and you responded by placing a comforting hand over his.

"Seonghwa, you're not an idiot. I'm not upset with you," You assured him, "I've been quiet since the visit because I'm still processing the fact that my own father killed my mother. All this time, I believed she died from sickness. Now, I can't help but wonder how different my life would have been if only she were still alive. He took her away from me just like that, and for what? All for his own selfish reasons..."

"I just... I feel so—" Tears welled up in your eyes, and your voice broke, "I-I'm sorry..." You pulled your hands away from him, attempting to wipe your eyes, but he gently grasped your shoulders and turned you to face him.

"No, you need to stop apologising. You have every right to be sad, and I'm here to tell you that you never have to endure any more of the pain you're going through alone. I'm here for you, okay? From now on, I want you to lean on me whenever things get too unbearable. Can you do that?"

Feeling the genuine warmth in Seonghwa's tone and seeing the unmistakable care in his eyes, you finally broke down. The weight of the revelations, the pain of your father's actions, and the years of emotional torment spilt over, and you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. He pulled you close, cradling you in his arms as you sobbed against his shoulder.

Whispering comforting words into your ear, he pressed gentle kisses onto the top of your head. His touch was a soothing balm, providing the comfort and support you desperately needed in that moment. As you let out your emotions, he held you tighter.

The sound of your heart-wrenching cries only caused an uncomfortable squeeze in his heart. The general had never experienced this kind of ache before. Throughout his life, he had always believed that no one had a tougher life than he did. But then you came along, with your fragile form, managing to shake his entire world and alter his perspectives on life. All of a sudden, the notion of having someone to protect and care for didn't seem so repulsive, especially when it was you.

You slowly pulled back, staring up at him through your wet lashes, and offered a grateful smile, "Seonghwa, I want to thank you for doing all this for me. I never imagined someone caring enough to go through all that trouble. I promise, in return, I'll try my hardest to be a worthy wife for you."

He wiped away your tears tenderly and gazed into your eyes, "You don't need to prove anything, my love. You're already perfect, just as you are."

Your heart raced, and your eyes widened as you stuttered, "W-wait, what... what did you just call me?"

He stilled, realising the words that had slipped from his mouth before he softened. Leaning close, he pressed his forehead against yours, "My love."

Seonghwa's presence became almost intoxicating. Feeling him so close, as if with a mind of its own, your eyes slowly fluttered closed. He took that as permission to lean in further, and after what felt like an eternity, his lips touched yours in a soft and tentative kiss. When you didn't push him away, he bravely angled his head before pressing his lips firmly against yours.

Finally, our first kiss.

Pulling away after a while to catch your breath, you bit your lip shyly, "I-I'm sorry if I wasn't—"

He shook his head, "Don't worry, it's my first time kissing someone too," He admitted, struggling to take his eyes off your swollen lips. A soft smile played on his lips as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, "Can I..." He asked with half-lidded eyes, and you nodded breathlessly.

Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in another loving kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of each other's presence. His touch was gentle yet filled with a depth of emotion. As the kiss deepened, you felt a rush of emotions, a mix of vulnerability and passion.

Feeling the need for air, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes met, and you could see the affection and sincerity in his gaze, "You're perfect." He whispered, his voice filled with tenderness, realising that kissing you might just be his new favourite thing to do from now onwards. The moment lingered, the air charged with newfound emotions. It was a beginning, a sweet promise of the love that had blossomed between you.

"Your Majesty, please—"

The King slammed his fists against the handle of his throne, causing the minister to gasp and lower his head. He shook like a leaf, awaiting his impending doom as the ruler declared, "I don't want to hear another word from you, Jang. You're a bloody disappointment. Actually, you're worse than that, you monster."

Kneeling beside your father were your stepmother and stepsisters, equally trembling. Pathetic tears rolled down their cheeks as they attempted to put on a pity show, hoping to move His Majesty's heart. However, their efforts did little to appease his rage. He scoffed in disbelief at their audacity to cry, considering all the despicable things they had done to you and your mother.

This marked the first time the four women had set foot in the palace, and little did they anticipate it would be under such circumstances. The visit might also be their only time here, as the imminent judgement from the King would decide their fate.

Seonghwa stood in the corner, arms crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face. He left home that morning after a lingering kiss on your lips, feeling rejuvenated and determined. Choosing not to burden you with the details of today's assembly, he shielded you from further thoughts about your family.

Don't worry, my love. I'll make sure they suffer a punishment worse than death.

"I can't stand to look at you imbeciles for another moment longer. Let's get this over with already. Royal Secretary Choi, would you be so kind as to enlighten us with all of Minister Jang's crimes and his punishments?" said the King.

Stepping forward from his corner next to the throne, San bowed, "As you wish, Your Majesty," Tugging open the scroll in his hands, he began reading out loud, "Minister Jang has committed a total of five crimes. First, he committed adultery voluntarily, and for that, he will be whipped with eighty lashes. Second, he committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, he will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

Dread filled the minister as he gulped, anxiously listening to the secretary move on to the next section, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of his own daughter, an innocent citizen, he will be flogged thirty times. Next, for violating the code of ethics as a minister, which is to be a law-abiding citizen, he will be stripped of his title and flogged another twenty times."

As your father's hands trembled, he attempted to hold himself up by pressing his sweaty palms against the floor, breathing heavily as he awaited the final and most severe punishment. San continued, "And finally, for the murder of his first wife, an innocent citizen, he will be sentenced to permanent exile."

That's... it?

Feeling a sliver of hope, the old man let out a small sigh of relief. At least it wasn't death by beheading or arsenic poisoning as he had feared. Banishment seemed acceptable; he supposed he could still live a quiet life somewhere away from here. Bowing deeply, he cried, "Thank you, Your Majesty! Your grace is immeasurable!"

All the ministers and officials present quickly stole glances at Seonghwa, wondering if he would throw a fit and object to the punishment that was yet to be the heaviest one. However, they failed to discern his feelings, as there was only an unreadable smirk on his handsome face.

Lady Jang and her daughters trembled as they awaited their turn. With a nod from the King, the secretary continued, "Moving on, Lady Jang has committed a total of four crimes. First, she voluntarily committed adultery, and for that, she will be whipped eighty lashes. Second, she committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, she will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

She nodded to herself, seemingly already accepting her fate, as she listened, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, she will be flogged thirty times. And finally, for being an accomplice to the murder of the first Lady Jang, she will be sentenced to penal servitude for life."

Her eyes shot up immediately, finding it hard to accept that she would be separated from her husband. She had believed she, too, would be exiled along with him. But she quickly lowered her gaze as soon as she saw the glare the King had directed at her, as if daring her to complain about it.

Oh god, my life is over...

Noticing the King's patience wearing thin, San quickly concluded with the final sentencing, "Lastly, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, the three young misses of the Jang family will be flogged thirty times each and sentenced to penal servitude for a total of thirty years."

All three of the sisters' jaws fell slack at their punishment. After living luxurious lives like spoiled brats for so long, they were now expected to be servants, performing hard labour for three decades. All their dreams of getting married and leading comfortable lives were shattered. The prospect of finding suitors after serving their sentences seemed bleak. Their lives were forever ruined, and things would never be the same.

"Now that that's settled, remove these individuals from my sight, and see to it that they receive their physical punishments by today. I don't want their presence contaminating my palace walls any longer than necessary. Moving on to the next agenda, let us discuss who will stand in as the interim Minister of Military Affairs until we elect a new one." The ruler grumbled, waving his hands dismissively.

Seonghwa grinned smugly, relishing the way your father's face fell as he absorbed His Majesty's words. The King fully intended to drive the point home, reminding him that, no matter how much he believed he contributed to the nation, he, too, was just as disposable. Consider it emotional torment for further punishment, if you will.

As the members of the Jang family were forcefully pulled to their feet and guided toward the palace torture chamber where all punishments for criminals were administered, the general bowed deeply, "Your Majesty, forgive this humble subject for not feeling too well. Would it be possible for me to excuse myself from the remainder of today's assembly?"

With a knowing glint in his eyes, the King nodded, "Of course, my boy. Nothing matters more than your well-being. I'll have Royal Secretary Choi send you the minutes of today's meeting later on."

All eyes were fixed on your husband as he confidently exited the hall, wearing an excessively pleased expression, looking a little too content to be feeling unwell as he had claimed. It became evident to everyone that he was plotting something, a scheme that even His Majesty was privy to and had tacitly approved.

"P-please, have mercy!"

Screams reverberated within the dim and eerie confines of the torture chamber, a place the general once frequented during his duties of interrogating spies, war criminals, and suspicious individuals to maintain peace within the nation.

The familiar sounds of your family's agonising cries filled his ears, and he couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips as he entered, "Ah yes, music to my ears."

Upon his arrival, all the royal guards present swiftly bowed deeply and greeted Seonghwa with respect, "Good day, General Park!" They dared not continue until he gave them a nod, "Go on, don't let me stop you. I'm only here to enjoy the show."

"Yes, sir!" They chanted in unison. To many young soldiers and palace guards, he was akin to a god, an embodiment of success they aspired to achieve one day. Therefore, his mere presence motivated them to perform their duties with increased ruthlessness and precision.

Taking a seat in the centre of the room, your husband bit his lip with a smug expression, locking eyes with your father whose gaze reflected anguish. The elderly man lay face down on a wooden table, enduring lash after lash on his already bloody and battered back. His painful ordeal was far from over.

Whimpering, your father pleaded, "S-Seonghwa, I'm s-still your father-in-law! Please, at least show a little mercy to your wife's father!" Beside him, his wife nodded pathetically, sharing the same painful fate. Meanwhile, the three daughters stood frozen in a corner, wrists cuffed, awaiting their turn to face their beatings.

A devilish laughter escaped the general as he shot a menacing glare at the former minister, "Oh, I'm sorry, was that supposed to make things any better? I would show you mercy if only you had shown my wife any. You shouldn't have said anything, you fool," Turning to the guard in charge of whipping your father, your husband ordered, "Not hard enough, soldier. I want to see his skin tear."

"Yes, sir!" Striking with increased force, the lashes landed on the old man's back, inflicting wounds that would take months to heal. The continuous shrieks of pain only served to widen the smile on Seonghwa's face, "And to think you were thanking His Majesty for his grace; you've underestimated the severity of being whipped, haven't you? Did you really think you were going to walk out of here with a small bruise? Dream on."

"Oh, I can't wait for all of you to experience the wonders of flogging! It will be delightful, a punishment perfectly suited for your kind." The general sang, eyeing the three girls slyly.

They cowered under his intense gaze, suddenly regretting every action they took on the day of your visit. Perhaps if they hadn't attempted any of those, they might have gotten away with a lighter sentence. But there was no point dwelling on such thoughts now.

"Father! Mother!" The girls cried, witnessing their parents only now completing the first half of their punishment. Before they could continue their wailing, guards approached them, saying, "Quiet down! Worry about yourselves instead; it's your turn."

The former minister and his wife looked practically lifeless by the time the guards were finished with their hundred lashes each. The skin on their backs was completely torn open, blood gushing out relentlessly. They were nearly unconscious by the time the guards moved them to separate poles, where they would be beaten with a heavy stick all over their bodies.

Letting out a small yawn, Seonghwa signalled for them to prepare for the flogging. This would be entertaining to witness; most criminals barely survived this punishment by the time it concluded. He would relish the idea of them being left in critical conditions.

"Enjoy yourselves! Thirty times each for what you've all done to my wife – just the perfect amount to leave you halfway to hell. Don't worry; you'll wish you were dead by the end of this. But rest assured, we will keep you alive," Your husband exclaimed with a clap of his hands, "Now, I want you to think of all the things you've done to my wife as you endure this. Can we all do that?"

In the ensuing silence, the guards approached each family member, forcefully striking them with the heavy sticks in their hands. With just one hit, all of them began howling in pain, "Answer the general! Can you all do as you are told?!"

"Y-yes! Yes!" All five of them sobbed miserably, and the general beamed, "Fantastic! Now, let the official flogging begin! The first one does not count, alright? Consider it warm up!"

The insanity in his eyes was genuinely terrifying, and your family was once again reminded of his reputation. Suddenly, it all made sense. This was how it felt to be a victim of his cruelty. They never should have sent you to him; that was their biggest mistake, and nothing they do or say could ever change that now.

"Yes, sir!"

And so it began, the screams that now filled the room were even more piercing than the ones during the first round of whipping.

Approaching each family member one by one, Seonghwa smirked, "Remember all the times you starved her?" Jinjoo nodded in between shrieks, "Good. And you, recall all the times you insulted her and made her feel small?" Jinhee repeated her sister's actions, nodding furiously, "Very good. And you, remember all the times you did something wrong and blamed it on her so that she would take your punishments for you?"

Jinah cried, tears and snot running down her sweaty face, "I'm sorry!" He shook his head, "Will saying a useless sorry change anything? Nope. Hit her harder, soldier," With a grin of approval, he moved on to your stepmother, "And you, recall all the times you kept her locked up in that prison cell you call her room?" Not wanting to suffer like her eldest, she nodded aggressively, "Good."

Finally stopping in front of your father, he crossed his arms over his chest, "And you, remember all the times you laid your hands on her? Your own daughter?" The former minister nodded quickly but was not spared, "Good, hit him even harder so he never forgets how it feels."

"Twenty-nine, thirty." The beatings stopped for the four women, and they collapsed one by one onto the floor like rag dolls. Blood trickled from their noses and the corners of their lips, their bodies covered in countless bruises and open wounds, soaking their clothes red. And that is only what can be seen on the outside; who knew what fatal internal injuries they could be suffering from.

With his hands propped on his hips, Seonghwa took in the sight with satisfaction, "Very well, some of these scars should last you for life. Now, you look as bad as the way you'd left my wife. Actually, worse. But that's good. I'm very happy with the outcome. Guards, take them away and make sure to send them to places where they're known to treat their servants poorly."

The girls sobbed upon hearing that, "General, please, have mercy! We've already suffered enough!" Your husband scoffed, "Mercy? Have you not been paying attention this entire time? I'm not known for that. Get them out of my sight."

As the guards dragged the wailing women out, they cried for their husband and father. The former minister yelled, still taking his twenty additional beatings as he watched his wife and daughters go, "W-will you not at least let me say my final goodbyes to them?"

"Minister, please don't make me laugh. Did you also allow my wife and her poor mother a final goodbye?" The old man had nothing to say at that, grunts of pain escaping his lips as he tried to endure the remainder of his punishment despite feeling like all of his insides had been beaten to mush at this point. He didn't have to look down to know that he was soaked in blood; he could feel the sting on his wounds whenever the slightest bit of wind blew past.

Just a bit more, and I'm free.

« Preview of Part 11 »

"Forty-nine, fifty." Your father sighed in relief when the punishment finally ceased. Collapsing to the ground upon being untied, he stared blankly ahead, feeling pain throughout his entire body. Slowly but surely, he slipped into unconsciousness due to the loss of blood.

Unfortunately, his respite was short-lived. A bucket of dirty water was abruptly dumped over him, causing him to scream in agony as the injuries on his body stung intensely, bringing tears to his eyes.

"Did you think it was over?" His blood ran cold as he noticed he was now tied to a chair, unable to move. With most of the guards gone, only him and Seonghwa remained.

"What do you think you're doing, general? I've completed all my physical punishments; you're supposed to banish me now!" The old man croaked, his eyes widening in fear as he noticed the dagger in your husband's hand.

The general burst into laughter, "Oh, minister, you can be quite slow at times. Did you genuinely believe that His Majesty's decision not to sentence you to death was an act of kindness? Who do you think requested your exile?"

"Y-you—"

Seonghwa smirked, "Indeed, it was me. Killing you would have been too merciful. No, I want you to endure a life so filled with pain that you wish for death every single day. Now, after seeing how skilled you were at begging all day, I believe you'd make a very talented beggar. Do you know what would make you a successful beggar?"

Tears streaming down his face, your father shook his head hopelessly as your husband traced the blade against his skin before whispering, "One without limbs."

That was the most violence I have ever written HAHA I had to channel my inner Joker for Seonghwa's character. Anyway, I hope that was satisfying enough!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[feral-witch-hat]

Turbo Tastic Nightmare Fuel

Okay, so, I watched a certain 2 hour video by a bird about a certain twist villain.

Disney's GREATEST Modern Villain: a Turbo/King Candy Analysis by Randomalistic ( @randomalistic you are fantastic and helped me re-discover my love for this movie, so thank you for that) go watch it is AMAZING.

And a part of that I especially liked was the analysis of the Turbo reveal, and going about it scene by scene.

However, I re-watched that scene myself, slowed down, and I found some... rather interesting shots that I haven't really seen anyone talk about to say the least. I'll post them, and under some of them I have little rants, mostly for the ones I like the most or found most interesting from a creative standpoint.

So, I introduce to you, Turbo-Tastic Nightmare fuel!

Without further ado ~

(quick side note, if some of images don't load right just try clicking on them, they are screenshots and I know tumblr doesn't like loading those a ton)

The monster is hinted at (AKA Malice towards a 9 year old);

A frame afterwards, we see him MELT back into his King Candy Persona;

Seriously, this scene has a lot of body horror elements to it. Like if they were not split second cuts and they were drawn out more, then I doubt this movie would still have this same rating it does, like, DUDE;

(I like how during this sequence we literally see his character models overlapping. If you mod games, especially characters, then this is a pretty common error that can occur if I'm correct. I've mostly seen it in mods of Skyrim, were a vanilla character is given a new skin, but the skin can clip and you see the original underneath.

I feel as though this scene is also a reminder that, despite his appearance, that is still Turbo underneath the King Candy façade. Modding a new skin onto a vanilla character is essentially just putting a costume on them, and here we see the costume start to rip to shreds.)

Now on a less horrific note;

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH-

Well at least his tongue isn't yellow;

(I know this implies his lisp, but I think its way funnier to think Turbo's enough of a sore loser to stick his tongue out at a little girl)

Jaw Dropping;

Man's looks like he's been half modded into Roblox;

(another side not, but I love how Turbo's absolute hatred is kept consistent in his expressions, no matter how glitchy or blink and you'll miss it they are. Like they could have just taken the lazy route and have him glitch so much you don't see his face, but to go the extra mile is lovely.)

Here's another example of that;

(I think this is probably my personal fav for two reasons. 1; the determined and equally as pissed off look Vanellope has. And 2; how Turbo is basically half and half here.

I'm a sucker for split faced/multi headed monsters in media, especially if they have symbolic meaning. Not only does this look sick as hell, but it does have that symbolism;

While not a perfect 50/50 split, here the façade Turbo tried so desperately to keep up is melting away. Literally. Turbo's complexation is taking up most of King Candy's face, the mask is slipping off, while the true face is inching it's way on.)

His head looks like its about to crush his body dear lord;

I love it when family media can get away intense body horror;

(Again we have the melting here, now with a dash of blocky pixals. I don't know how physical of a sensation glitching is, but I feel like this would be insanely painful. Imagine feeling blocks popping in and out of your body, before smoothing back down into skin, like that can not be comfortable.)

I find this shot more funny than horrifying;

( I wanna honk his stupid nose).

Live Candy citizens reaction;

(I like here that we can see the pixals that make up Turbo's body, float around his head, as if his own body parts don't even know what to do now that his covers been blown.)

Pixalated and still pissed off;

( I still love how they chose to show his pixelated form to add onto his scariness ((or yuckiness I should say)) and, yeah, it does it's job well.)

Holy shit;

(Combined with Vanellope's expressions and desperate struggle here, this is just flat out horrifying, and adds onto the prior point I made.)

I could play checkers on his teeth;

Suddenly don't want to honk his nose anymore;

When you forgot to wear a matching hat with your fit (smh);

(since glitching is partially emotional based in the movie, I like to think his pixels flying off him shows his rage towards Vanellope and in that moment, he can't keep himself together anymore.)

Another favorite shot, mostly because I paused here when I was a kid and it horrified me;

Live Felix and Ralph Reaction;

Bro is s h o o k ;

(Also I never noticed here how he throws the pole away, I dunno why my brain never put that together.)

Bamboozlement;

(One of the few times he actually looks distressed ((beside the Cybug scene that follows and end of the movie of course))

I saw this in the video essay too, but bros just, gone;

TURBO POGGIES???!?!?;

Trying to put the mask back on;

(Despite being caught and happily revealing who he really is, his body is still attempting to put his disguise back on. It's probably just the glitch being uncontrollable, but after this the costume will never fit the right way again.)

And, to finish off this already ridicoulously long post off, we have one of the most creepy shots that I can't beleive are in a goddamn disney movie;

Sadly im at my picture limit, but I still can't get over how amazing this scene is. I doubt they thought anyone at the time would go by this scene shot by shot, frame by frame, but they still took the time to make this scene as creepy as possible while staying in the Family Friendly zone. Well, I doubt any kid watching this will notice the last shot without pausing, and if they accidentally do, may God save their soul because I doubt they are going to be sleeping soundly the next few days.

Again, thank you to a certain amazing parrot for awaking one of my oldest hyperfixations and helping me see this masterpiece in a new light that old me would have never thought of!

[moonthehybrid]

"I will only break your pretty things, I will only wring you dry of everything."

Grian and Mumbo everyone!

Yep so our little silly bird and coal miner was Grian and Mumbo!

I saw two people say Jimmy and Mumbo and one person say ranchers.

Unfortunately not this time but they will have their own art hopefully soon!

As for this one, not the proudest unfortunately.

I couldn't think of any dances for them and didn't find any references I thought fit so- took a while and I haven't drawn Mumbo and Grian enough- I really need to-

But I think it turned out fine. And if you guys couldn't guess this is Last life Grian and Mumbo!

As for your hint for your next one!

A fox, a demon, an angel, and a blaze walk into a bar...

[ranticore]

Longwing siren harpy VS Cuinn Vs Ironwall harpy showdown. Who wins??? (They can use their in-world technology I guess)

we're asking the real questions now. let's compare three individuals. I'm shocked I haven't drawn an up to date image of one of my actual Siren longwings.. all the other ones still have tails but longwings don't have those anymore

longwing siren harpy: Miakef From My Blog Header

advantages:

the navigational visor acts to shield the face and eyes

has hands to hold things (weapons maybe?)

quadrupedal stance means a strong and explosive take-off

disadvantages:

flight tends to be slow and hyper specialised

claws are practically vestigal, they have no natural weapons and would struggle to carry substantial manmade weapons

the body of a longwing harpy is extremely small, fragile, and light, they're the ultralight aircraft of the siren harpy world they would rather fly away forever than fight

Ironwall Eagle Harpy: Pascal Leclerc (taking a break from being a horse)

advantages:

it's a yes for natural weapons, no beak no problem. catch these wing-hands

owns a phone with internet access so he could cyberbully you

might call the cops

disadvantages

just a big bird with a guy's face and tits

no natural desire to fight

deep well of insecurity means he's vulnerable to psychological attack

its just like whatever man who cares

Ama Plains Eagle Harpy: it's Cuinn/Ice Storm Over Kosa with the steel chair

advantages:

bloodthirsty and eager to kill, has a biological drive to fight

yes for natural weapons, for artificial weapons i guess he could use a sharpened stick

could get the rest of the flock to attack if you're not a personal rival

deep well of insecurity means he is more likely to ramp up the aggression in response to psychological attack

disadvantages:

as a regular cob harpy he's not that big or strong. and kings are rare on a population level so you'd be more likely fighting a cob than a king

no lips 😔 unkissable

no hands! he doesn't have hands and must use his mouth and feet for tool manipulation. you could just grab him while his feet are busy

overall size comparison (with placeholder longwing):

they're closer in size than i thought. longwing max height is 6ft according to my siren height chart but that's if the neck is stretched out, and cuinn is also 6ft if he stretches. ironwall harpies are comparatively and nonsensically gigantic because i was like fuck it what if i didn't care about flight dynamics for once (and then i put them back in later because i couldn't help myself)

ultimately i think the ama plains harpy is most likely to win because he wants to win and his continued existence as a king (if he is a king at time of fight) relies on him winning. longwing harpy is not built for combat at all but the visor technology would flag any opponent before they were within a hundred miles so they could just leave. ironwall harpies might be big and could probably match an ama harpy if they wanted to but tbh they're too busy worrying about their mortgage (& in pascal's case, which bandmate wants to kick him out)

[kpopsexstories]

QUICK FIX #39: TXT Yeonjun – 'Boyfriend'

Member: TXT Yeonjun

Content: You cuddle with Yeonjun in bed and discuss the burning question: "Are we a couple?". There's foreplay in this story but no actual sex, because that's not what it's about.

Type: VANILLA

Word Count: 1168

This story was inspired by Yeonjun's song 'Boyfriend'. It's part of my Quick Fix Dirty Kpop Imagines series – check it out for more x female reader smut and other groups and members.

-> Is this story not hot enough? I wrote a follow-up story to show the sex that takes place after this one 😉 (The story in this post builds up to the sex in the follow-up story.)

There's no doubt that Yeonjun is your best friend, but the fact hasn't dawned on you until recently. You think about him all the time, spend time with him almost daily, and he's the one you want to call when you're excited or sad about something. You can no longer lie to yourself: this is getting serious.

You finally started to realize how close you have become when you had sex for the first time. It happened so naturally, felt so good, and he was so sweet throughout the whole thing. Since then you've lost count of how many nights you've spent in his apartment.

This morning you wake up alone. There's no response when you call Yeonjun's name, but the warm sheets beside you tell you that he's been there until recently. He's probably just gone to the bathroom, or to make you breakfast in bed the way he sometimes does.

You smile and yawn and stretch your arms and t-shirt. You look at the window and feel the bright light on your skin. Your body and mind is slowly coming to life, and you feel all happy and giddy inside.

Then you hear drawn-out footsteps in the hallway, and you turn to look at the wide-open door. Yeonjun lazily appears in it, slouching and barely lifting his feet off the ground. He's wearing the shorts and white tank top he slept in and his hair is a hot mess.

He stops and stares at you. You giggle when you see his tired face. “Morning babe,” you say and chuckle at how sleepy he looks. He's never been an early bird.

“Morning,” he mumbles and crosses his arms, pulling his shoulders in while yawning. Then he slowly makes his way back to you.

You roll to face him and lean on your elbow while he lifts the duvet to crawl back into bed with you. For a second he looks down at your legs and panties, smirks and winks with his eyebrows. You giggle again and playfully pull at the duvet to cover your exposed body.

He comes to lie beside you. The mattress jumps as he huddles up close in your arms and makes himself comfortable. You kiss his sweet lips and rub your nose against his cheek.

“How did you sleep?” he asks with his eyes closed. You feel his bare legs and feet brush against yours under the covers.

“Amazing,” you say and it's not a lie. You haven't felt this good and rested in ages. “You look exhausted.”

Yeonjun opens his eyes and smirks. “It's your fault,” he says and pulls you closer. He puts an arm around your back and buries his face in your hair, and the giddy excitement in your heart intensifies.

Mornings like this make life worth living. And who are you kidding, you're not just good friends anymore. Are you?

This is the question you ponder when you lovingly look down at the head of the sweet man in your arms. It occurred to you for the first time last night. Are we an actual couple? You feel a strong desire to find out if, maybe, hopefully, probably but not necessarily, he's wondering and feeling the same thing.

“Yeonjun?” you say in a low voice while stroking his warm back.

“Mm?” he grunts by your neck. When you don't say anything else he lifts his head and looks into your eyes. His piercing gaze sends a strong current running through your body and heart.

You're afraid to ask. You don't want to ruin the friendship. But you've just slept together, again, and you need to know.

Little do you know that Yeonjun has indeed been having the same thoughts and questions. He even wrote a song about it, perhaps realizing your feelings even before you did so yourself.

Now, there's something about your loving look that makes him think about it again, but he's afraid too. He decides to open the door, but simultaneously to pass the ball back to you: “Why are you looking at me like I'm your boyfriend?”

It's like he's reading your mind. That's exactly what you want him to be. God, why does this make me so nervous?

“Because I love you,” you blurt out. That's more than you intended to say, but better stay calm.

Yeonjun's lips turn into a smile. A faint one at first, as he processes your words. Then it grows large and out of control, like he can't keep his happy emotions in check.

“I love you too,” he says. His eyes are glimmering. You press a little harder on his back and start to smile too. The pause that follows feels like an eternity, until he comes in for a long, hot kiss on the lips.

“I love you,” he repeats. “I've wanted to tell you that for so long.”

“Why haven't you?” you ask in between soft kisses.

“I was afraid you'd think it was too soon.”

“Is it too soon?”

“Maybe. I don't care. I love you.”

There's no describing the intense feelings you have in this very moment. For a while there you honestly thought you fucked up. Now the giddiness inside you multiplies tenfold, and you feel both relieved and incredibly happy.

Your soft kisses quickly turn into a make-out session. Yeonjun's body stiffens as he touches your skin which fills you both with excitement. You rub your hips together, feel his smooth torso when the tank top slides up his side, and enjoy the sensation of his large hand which ventures to areas no ordinary friend would touch.

“Mm,” you moan with your eyes closed.

Yeonjun starts panting softly. “I'll be your boyfriend if you want me to,” he whispers.

It makes you chuckle. “Yeah,” you whisper back. Yes! More than anything!

Yeonjun attacks you with his lips, as if your confirmation brings him immense joy. Your love-making quickly turns more passionate, and when you roll slightly on your back while your tongue is inside his mouth he quickly follows and climbs on top of you.

Your bodies glide together. You spread your legs to let him in. His hand massages your boob over your shirt, while the other moves down your side and he sticks his fingers between your hip and the seams of your panties.

His soft panting returns. You caress his back and push the tank-top higher up his body. He eventually sits on his knees and takes it off, and you admire his beautiful body.

No questions or further confirmation are needed. You've done this part before, many times in the past few weeks. But when you smile and look up and down his hot body between your legs, and he looks down at yours, you both know that this will be the best time yet.

“I love you,” you repeat and you genuinely mean it. He's not just your best friend. He's your lover, your partner, and now that has been cemented with a label: your boyfriend.

-> Continue to the follow-up story where sex happens 🙂

[nightwonder7]

GOT THE GREATEST IDEA EVER...

your OCS but they're crossover costumes in idv for Alice and Norton :3

YOU KNOW WHAT

For a while I have been entertained by the thought of which IDV characters would be cast as my OCs if they were a crossover essence or something. Like who would be a skin for who in the game. Sadly none of them fit Norton nor Alice, but these are the ones I've been thinking of:

Emmett Dean Abberoth

I'm thinking Novelist. Emmett is a nervous pharmacist, but he's impeccably dressed and has a notebook, so I can see it fit the most. The alternative could be Professor.

Melanie Vinter

I can see her as Perfumer. She's a shy vampire with a troubled past. I dunno, the in-game abilities just feels right for some reason. Plus, both of them have regrets about the past.

Timothy Daw

I'm not too sure here tbh. Seer? Or maybe Acrobat (even though he'd likely fall apart in that role fhdsjfgs). Timothy is a scarecrow with a sunny disposition who deeply loves his birds.

Wayne Barner

Grave Keeper most definitely! Even though their personalities couldn't clash more gdghjdkg Wayne is my Don't Starve OC. From the working class and good with the shovel.

Jakob Ross Lockhart

For him, First Officer. He's a psychiatrist with questionable methods and dark secrets. Reckless and a bit of a psychopath. Good at reading people. He uses hypnosis on his patients.

Audrey Haupe

I feel like maybe Gardener would suit her. She is Lockhart's maid. Dedicated and down to earth, she keeps her master grounded.

Cyril Iwo Davinski & Angelica Sage Thornwood

I haven't drawn these two in the IDV style yet, so I'm slapping them here together 💀 I'm not very sure who would fit them best either. I can see Angelica as Faro Lady. Maybe even Coordinator or Antiquarian. Cyril I have the hardest time with cause none of them really fit. Closest I can come up with is maybe Embalmer.

I'd love to make more refined drawings of my OCs in the IDV style some day ;<; Thank you for giving me an excuse to yap about this XD

[homunculus-argument]

If you're planning to start drawing comics, there's something I need to tell you: while it's good to challenge yourself and put yourself outside of your comfort zone, the page is not where you practice.

You can, should, and as a matter of fact must occasionally draw things that you're not good with, things you don't draw often, and from angles you haven't tried before, but that kind of practices and studies should be in your sketchbooks and casual drawing. While it's good to have ambitions, and plan to draw things you haven't drawn before, do not try to draw something you dislike drawing (like crowds, characters in motion, dynamic poses from a bird's eye view) for the first time right on the page you're drawing. You might think you're going to do better than that, but eventually you will just go "fuck it, badly done is better than undone" and the characters in what should have been the most dramatic and impactful panel of the scene instead look like this:

[plethoraaa-of-things]

There was a trend on Spanish speaking twitter a while ago where people made Blu from Rio a new girlfriend because of how Jewel treated him in the second movie, so I figured why not make my own for giggles LMAO Am I late and on a different platform? Oh so very. But I had fun!

Meet Guinevere, a Camelot macaw! (A first generation hybrid between a blue-and-gold macaw and scarlet macaw) I imagine she's probably also semi-domestic. I think she turned out super cute!

I had a lot of fun doing style studies to draw her properly, though I heavily referenced Blu for his drawing to try and get him to look right LMAO I haven't drawn birds much before this, but I'm really happy with how this turned out. >:) Mwehe