#Sir Not-Very-Good-With-Sharp-Objects

[thatsbelievable]

[springseasonie]

Auralism Pt. 3 | PJS (M)

Voice actor Jisung x fem reader

Part 1. Part 2. Part 4.

Summary: Your minimum wage job at a cafe brings you little to no joy. That was till an unexpected person walked through the door during your closing shift, making your day a lot more eventful.

Warnings: sexual content, dom Jisung, big dick Jisung, public sex, oral (fem and male receiving), face hitting/smacking (not enough to hurt the reader), fingering, cum eating, almost (actually) caught, face riding, face fucking, deep voice Jisung the whole time, hes very talkative

Word count: 6,3k

A/N: hey (laughs nervously) I haven't posted anything in almost a month ik it's criminal lmao. Life has been beating my ass. I hope you guys enjoy it I suffered writing this. Feedback is loved and appreciated 🤍🤍

He did it. He actually did it.

Jisung did a face reveal.

And God, was he one of the finest men you've ever seen. His big brown eyes, sharp nose, plump lips. If sex was a person it would probably be him. He looked better than anything you've ever imagined and deep down you're glad he was handsome because it couldn't break your fantasy. But now your fantasy could be ten times greater.

And unfortunately for you, it means you'll be all the more crazier. Masturbating to his voice is one thing, but you took a jump and masturbated to his face. Now you're at work, trying to clean the tables of the cafe as you attempted to push the events of the night prior to the back of your head. Very rarely are you embarrassed, but this was a new low. But was it really your fault that the center of all your orgasms just happened to be just as hot as his voice?

You're busy scrubbing the tables when you hear the bell on the door ring. It was the middle of closing and you just wanted to make it home to rest at a reasonable hour.

"I'm sorry sir, we're about to close in 10 minutes," you said, still wiping down tables.

"I'm sorry, you guys are the only people open right now and I really need some coffee."

Your heart dropped as soon as you heard his voice. Looking up slowly, you looked at him, standing there in front of you. "I-I…I.."

Jisung looked at you confused, brows furrowed not knowing what's wrong with either you or him. He watched as you gulped, going a bit wide eyed as you kept staring at him. "Are you okay?"

You were usually really good at masking your emotions from your many hours in this job, but this time couldn't be helped. If there was a list of the top ten embarrassing moments of your life, this would definitely be number one. You couldn't even respond to him, hands trembling on your sides slightly. But you had to pull it together, fake it till he left.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," you said, but he still looked at you worried. "We're going to close soon though."

"I know…but I really need coffee. Is an Americano okay," he asked, voice whining as he begged.

You gulped as his voice hit your ears, growing more and more aroused as you stood there listening. You couldn't help but stare at him in all his glory. He's tall, probably about 5'11 from where you were standing. He's wearing shorts and a hoodie, but he looks to be pretty muscular and in good shape. You watched as he pulled his wallet out the pocket of his hoodie, the way his fingers were wrapping around the object. You always thought he was just hyping himself up for the audios but fuck, his hands were big. Fingers were long too just like he said.

You didn't notice how long you were checking him out until you heard him clear his throat. Startled, your eyes search to look at anything but him. You really want to go home for the night, but making his coffee as an excuse to keep staring at him is a better idea.

"I don't know if you're tired or not but you keep staring at me," he said, giving you a warm chuckle.

You blinked, snapping out of the trance you were in and looked up at him. "Yeah sorry, I'm exhausted," you laughed, trying not to make the atmosphere stiff. "I’ll make you coffee. Just sit over here."

Jisung walked over to the stool, climbing on the chair as you went behind the counter. You began making his drink, not speaking a word as you worked. The lights in the cafe were dim, giving his features pretty lighting. The way the light hit his long lashes and pretty lips turned your legs to putty. You weren't even paying attention to what you were doing, spilling some of the ice on the ground.

Jisung looked up from his phone, brow raising as he watched you scramble to clean it up. Jisung noticed how jittery you were since he walked in and couldn't understand why. At first, he thought it was just because you were tired, but he saw you staring at him, sneaking gazes a little too much. He wondered what was on your mind, why exactly you kept looking at him. You were definitely his type from a looks standpoint too so maybe he should make the atmosphere less awkward.

Jisung cleared his throat as he looked at you across the counter, gaining your attention for a second. "So, are you from around here?"

You continued making his coffee, pouring 2 shots of espresso in the cup. "Yep, born and raised," you answered, trying to keep your composure. "What about you?"

"Just moved out here a couple of weeks ago," he answered, pushing his hair back.

You froze for a second, processing his words. He's been around you this whole time and you had no idea? Of course you would have no idea, you had no idea who he was up until the night prior. But the fact remained that you could have spoken to him at any time, completely unaware that he was the man making your day worth it every night.

"Really," you said, pouring the espresso over the ice. "Are you in school or anything?"

"Yeah, I'm in uni," he nodded. You watched as he licked his lips following his answer.

"What's your major?"

"Computer science."

You snickered to yourself. No one would ever guess he was a computer science major based off of his reddit content. He seemed like a completely different person offline, nothing like you imagined but you liked that. "So you live on campus or..?

"Oh no I have my own place that I rent out," he answered, shaking his bangs from his face. You were too focused on making his coffee to notice him eyeing your body from across the counter. If you did notice you'd probably melt or something, he's very careful with his looks.

"Really? This city is pretty expensive to live in, especially as a college student," you said. "Sugar?"

"Oh yeah, sure," he answered.

You nodded and added sugar before putting the cover on the plastic cup. You placed it in front of him, giving him a small smile. "It's on the house."

He looked at you surprised, but shook his head. "No, no. I'll pay, I'm holding you up anyway."

"Okay if you say so," you said and laughed softly. You started cleaning the coffee machines, throwing the grounds in the trash and throwing the dirty utensils used for the day into the sink. "So," you said trying to fill the silence, "do you do anything else besides school?"

"Oh yeah, I work," he said, sipping his coffee. But you knew that already. You knew his job, and you knew it very well.

"What's your job?"

Jisung glanced at you, who was looking at him intently. He didn't know what to say. Should he tell the truth or just give a vague lie? He wasn't exactly open about his job, but he took a leap of faith the night prior with his face reveal. People were bound to recognize him sooner or later.

"I do a bit of voice acting," he said, taking a sip right after.

"Really? Voice acting and computer science are really different things," you said leaning on the counter.

"Well, a lot of people told me I should try. They said I have a nice voice."

"They were right," you complimented. "It's really nice." You didn't realize how you said it, but your sudden tone change made Jisung quirk his brow. You were really trying to keep it together but the more he spoke, the more memories flooded in your head of every single time you laid in your bed cumming for hours to his voice. You felt your hands twitch looking at the man, his eyes never really leaving your leaning frame as you looked at him in silence, heart and head racing.

"Thank you." Jisung took another sip, but this time it was slow as he kept eye contact with you. The air grew thicker, you looking prettier than when he first walked in as he kept his eyes on you. "I never really asked you about yourself. What do you do besides this?"

"Go to school, write a bit, nothing special," you answered.

"Mhm.."

At this rate, you were probably going to slip up if he kept making noises like that. Sweat was collecting on your temple from your raging hormones – it was almost becoming too much to bear. All you think about it was him fucking you against the counter, hand wrapped around your throat as he whispered nasty things in your ears. He was so hot just sitting there drinking, you felt like a hormonal teenager. Your underwear was not surviving the night dry. You lifted yourself off the counter and went to the sink full of dishes, sticking your hands in the water to clean them.

"What do you write," he asked, typing on his phone.

"In school I do a lot of research reports, but I write lots of fiction in my own time," you answered.

Jisung hit the post button, placing his phone on the counter. However it didn't go unnoticed how yours buzzed at almost the exact same time. Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe it was just a weird thing that happened at the moment, but maybe the thought in the back of his head was right the whole time. Maybe you did know who he was and that was why you were acting weird when he first walked in.

You picked up your phone, checking the notification to see it was a post by the very many sitting in front of you. You read it, reading something about him being bored so there was probably going to be a surprise later that night. Right as you glanced up at him from your phone, he was staring right at you, a smirk tugging in his lips.

"So you do know me," he chuckled softly.

"What? I don't know you." You were completely caught off guard by the sudden accusation. The whole time, you thought you were doing so well in masking it, but somehow he found you out.

Jisung took another sip of the cold drink, gulping as he chuckled at your panicked response. "It's okay, you don't have to be nervous." He licked his lips pausing before speaking. You were clearly uncomfortable with the exchange and he should probably stop, but he wanted to have fun with it. "You listen to my stuff often?"

"I…" You blinked, not sure if you wanted to answer his question. You were standing there in a room alone with him just like you always imagined. So many times in your head, you had scenarios of how you would meet him, but at your job wasn't one of them.

"What? Are you embarrassed," he laughed.

"I'm not embarrassed, this is just not the way i thought it'd go," you admitted, mumbling.

"Meeting me? That's cute, you thought about it," he said, resting his face on his palm. "I never asked you your name."

"Y/N," you answered.

"Well, Y/N, I'm glad that I have pretty people like you that listen."

There it was, his soft soothing bedroom voice that made you lose your mind. You were about to respond when he cut you off unexpectedly. "Do you touch yourself listening to them?"

If life were a TV show, there would be a room full of gasps with no one around. You couldn't even move, just keep squeezing your thighs together like you were doing for the past 5 minutes. You felt small with the way his eyes lingered on you, waiting for you to answer.

"You don't have to answer if you want to. I was just curious," he said, giving you a kind smile.

"I-I do."

He nodded, smirking to himself at your change in body language. Nothing turned him on more than knowing you listened to his voice and came from just that. Knowing he could give you pleasure without even looking at you, touching you, doing anything but speak to you was starting to make him hard. Of course he knew all these things happened regardless but having living proof in front of him made his mind reel.

"How often?" He tilted his head slightly, watching you lick your lips as you looked away from him, wiping your hands on your apron.

"Really often.."

"Like every night?"

"Something like that." You said you weren't embarrassed about it before, but somehow this situation is probably the worst thing that could have happened to you. You felt like you were caught doing something wrong, like he was interrogating you in a way. But you liked it, you enjoyed the feeling. It made every fiber in your body tingle, making you even more excited.

"That's cute," he spoke softly. "Do you have a favorite?"

You looked at him then at the time. It was now 20 minutes past 8 and everyone should've long been out, but you've been entertaining the man of your dreams for a while. You couldn't possibly just kick him out, not when he seems as into you as you are into him.

"A couple," you answered honestly. You were beginning to feel shy answering all his questions, telling him about how privately obsessed you were with him. But you had no idea that every answer you gave him was only making him harder and harder underneath his sweats. Jisung meant it when he says the thought of his fans touching themselves to his voice turns him on. He thought about it all the time, but now that there is a living breathing example of this, he feels like he had to drag this out.

"Let me guess your favorite one," he said. "Alone time, date with you, couldn't sleep, stress relief…"

Your breath hitched hearing the title of the audio you were listening to the night prior. Jisung gave you a dry chuckle, licking his lips as you stood there completely still. The sheer power he had over you was astounding and it sent his mind to crazy places. "You like that one don't you?"

You nodded, gulping at the way he stares at you.

"What's your favorite part?" Jisung's fingertip circles the rim of the cup slowly, questions burrowing into your brain.

"I'm…not answering that," you said quietly.

"Why not," he teased playfully. " Would you like it better if I repeated some things to jog your memory?" He stood up from the stool, making his way behind the counter slowly. You watched Jisung walk behind your counter as you backed away after every step he took. His long legs got to you quicker than you expected, making you lean against the counter as you tried to move away from his large frame. Jisung planted a firm hand next to you, moving your body closer to his as he caged you in.

Leaning down to your ear, the soft tickle of his breath made you shiver. You looked at him, side eyeing the man as you watched every move he made hyper aware of whatever he was doing or saying.

"Does my voice turn you on, hm? Does it make your pretty pussy wet?" Jisung laughed darkly watching the visceral reaction you had to his word. You gasped softly, knees almost going weak immediately as you whipped your head to him, making him raise a brow at you. "Was it that one, or maybe it's an even better line. What about "I know you want my big cock to stretch you good. If I had you I'd fuck you so good you wouldn't remember your name." "

Your mouth parted slightly going dry hearing the words he said in the mic hit your ears in real time. This was definitely a fantasy you played in your head over and over, a reoccurring wet dream that started feeling lucid. At this point you couldn't tell if it was real or fake, if he was actually standing in front of you or if you were genuinely crazy.

"So which one, hm? Or should I keep reciting more lines," he asked, smirk on his face as he scanned your expression.

"Those were fine," you responded breathlessly. At this point, his face was extra close to yours. You couldn't look him in the eyes, afraid you'd fall to your knees and beg him to touch you so you opted for his lips instead. But oh boy, was that a bad idea, because now you couldn't stop thinking about kissing him, his lips all over your body, how they would feel all over your core.

Jisung stares at you, emotions coming to a standstill as he feels his dick becoming fully hard in his pants. This could either go one of two ways: he fucks you on this counter or rubs one out at home. But it's not looking like the second option is happening anytime soon. Not when he happened to be in a situation where 2 of his fantasies could happen at once.

"Do you have any other favorites? I could repeat some more stuff," he said. Jisung licked his lips as he eyed you, watching you squirm slightly under him. "Or maybe we can reenact it."

"Yes," you answered almost too quickly. "I-I wanna reenact it."

Jisung placed his hand on your hip, pressing his fingertips into your side. Your mind went fuzzy, his hands on your body turning your aching core into a pool. You could cum just from his hand on your hip and it wasn't even touching your bare skin. "Tell me which one and I'll make it happen, beautiful."

"7 minutes in heaven," you answer quietly, looking down at your feet. You don't know why you felt so embarrassed telling him about that particular audio, but it was another one you listened to often also. It was one of the rare audios where he showed his rough side, the side that would linger in your head for days to come.

Without a word, he chuckled softly, taking your chin between his fingers and lifting your head. "You're a little pervert, you know that right? Get on the floor."

You kneeled down directly in front of him, pants getting wet from the pool of melted ice from earlier. It hadn't registered that you were doing this in an area where anyone could walk by, where cameras are pointed, but you were far too gone. You looked up at him, breathing heavily as he stared down with hungry eyes.

"Tell me what you liked about it."

"How demanding you were," you mumbled.

He gave you a dry chuckle, licking his lips as he stared down at you. "Suck my dick." You looked up at him, brows raised high as you remained still. Jisung looked at you mockingly, tilting his head when you didn't move. "You can't hear all of a sudden? Suck my dick."

Jisung didn't have to say a word before your hands flew to the waist of his sweats, untying the string. Your fingers made quick work of the knit, but your hands hesitated to go into his pants. You couldn't believe this was actually happening. You were going to fuck the man of your dreams.

"Don't hesitate," he said softly.

You gulped nervously, nodding as you pulled the waist of his sweats and boxers down enough to allow his fully hard cock to spring out. Jisung could tell how numb your brain was at this point, the way you took him in your hands, stroking him slowly. Your breath was shaky despite not doing a thing but kneeling. Jisung wonders if this is something you've dreamt about, something you hoped for. But he no longer has to wonder seeing how you close your eyes, licking and wrapping your mouth around his tip in pure bliss.

Your mouth wrapped around the head, sucking it softly as the small beads of precum hit your tongue. Naturally, you took your hand, wrapping it around his shaft stroking as you sucked him softly. You opened your eyes, lashes fluttering as you looked at the man above you. Jisung watched you intensely, eyes never leaving yours as you bobbed your head. His large hand took a hold of the back of your head, rubbing circles into your scalp as you kept going.

The lights were still on, all windows open on the dark street. Anyone who walked by could probably tell you were on your knees, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was finally being able to make the man in your audios cum like you always wanted. Soon, Jisung's hold on your head became rougher, guiding your mouth lower and lower, more and more. You moaned softly around him, looking up as your brows furrowed.

"Yeah, take it," he mumbled, moaning softly.

It was just like his audios, the soft dominant tone he took to the mic. It almost made your head spin.

"You like having that pretty mouth on my cock?" You moaned and nodded in response, earning a smirk from him. Jisung pulled himself out of your mouth giving you a chance to breathe as he forced you to look at him. "Use your words princess."

"Yes, yes I do."

"Good girl." Jisung parted your lips with his tip, your jaw gladly dropping for him. You stuck your tongue out, taking him while in your mouth and throat. Jisung rocks into your mouth slowly, savoring the way you feel around him. Jisung's moans and groans made you drunk right off his sounds, the only things you're able to focus on is his voice and his cock.

"Look at you," he groaned softly. "looking at me with those big pretty eyes, you're such a good girl Y/N."

He kept thrusting slowly, gradually speeding up making you furrow your brows. You held onto his pants, gripping the fabric as he fucked your throat, sucking him at the same time. Jisung closed his eyes, throwing his head back as his breathing increased just like in his audios.

Your throat tightened around him, saliva messy and all over your chin. His groans and moans were music to your ears, making you want to do more than just a blow job. Just then, you feel a smack on your cheek, not enough to hurt you, but just for the impact. You looked up at him, moaning as he grabbed your hair rougher.

"You liked that? You like it when I smack you," he asked condescendingly. You wished you could answer but your mouth is occupied at the moment. Another smack landed on your face followed by a dark chuckle from the man above you. "You've been dreaming of this haven't you Y/N. C'mon, answer. Oh wait…you can't with your mouth full of my cock can you?"

Jisung kept fucking your mouth at a steady pace, pulling out periodically to let you catch your breath. He was constantly edging himself, moans and grunts becoming louder every time he was close and closer to his orgasm. The scene of you below him was messy. Saliva falling from your mouth, lips swollen and puffy, face absolutely fucked out. He loved it.

"Fuck I can't take this anymore," he mumbled. Jisung pulled himself out of your mouth, giving you a second to catch your breath. "Stand up, I need to taste you."

Jisung took your hands, helping you stand. You instantly leaned on the counter as he dropped to his knees, untying your apron. You took the fabric off your body, dropping it on the counter as he undid your jeans. Jisung pulled them down with your underwear to your ankles.

"Fuck," he said breathlessly, looking at the wetness between your legs. "Fuck, I do this to you?"

You nod silently, a little too turned on to even form words. Jisung smacks the side of your leg, rubbing the spot with his thumb softly right after. "Speak, princess."

"Y-yes you do. All the time. Every night."

Jisung licks his lips, eyes flickering between your face and your soaked core. His breathing was ragged, gulping silently as he just stared at you. "Can I eat your pussy?"

"Fuck yes."

That's was all he needed to dive into your core making you spread your legs even wider for him. Jisung lapped up your juices like a dehydrated man, moaning and whimpering all over your sensitive clit. It wasn't until you looked down at him that you realized he was jerking himself off to eating you out. Jisung flicked his tongue against your clit, stimulating the swollen bud.

"Fuck, oh my god," you moaned softly, voice cracking from the surge of pleasure.

Jisung smiles against your cunt, eyes heavy as he watches you in lust. "You like that, pretty girl?"

"Yes, keep going.."

Jisung never broke eye contact with you, working on himself as he worked to make you cum. You began to rock your hips against his face, his sharp nose nudging your clit ever so slightly making your head spin.

Just at that second, you heard the front door open the sound of the bell ringing in the silent room. In a split second, your hand connects with Jisung's head, pushing him away from your aching cunt. You spun around, looking at the door to see your coworker, Chenle.

"H-hey, I thought you went home for the night," you said. You were speaking a bit louder unintentionally, trying to seem as normal as possible.

"Yeah, but I realized that I left something in the back so I had to come before someone locked up the shop," he said.

You nodded in understanding. You were starting to feel like you could pull it off until you felt Jisung lick a stripe on your cunt as you bent over on the counter. You sucked in a sharp breath, exhaling shakily as you covered your mouth. Thank goodness the counters were so high so Chenle couldn't see the way the younger man was working on your pussy.

"Um, Y/N, are you okay? You look kind of uncomfortable," he asked, looking at you confused.

Jisung moved on from your clit to your entrance, lapping up your arousal. You clenched your jaw feeling his fingers come into contact with your sensitive clit, rubbing the bud in circles.

"Yeah I'm fine, just a stomach ache that's all," you lie. Chenle looks at you, squinting at your unsure answer, but shrugs and walks away.

"You know what's good for stomach aches? Soup," he says.

"I'm pretty sure everyone knows that, Chenle." Jisung chuckles under his breath, lapping at your entrance as he pressed his fingers harder on your clit, making your knees go weak. Thankfully for you, your body was being held up by the counter. "Well hurry up, I want to lock up and go home soon."

"Oh, well I can help you ou-"

"No!" Chenle raised his brows, furrowing them at your sudden denial. "I-I just wanna close alone tonight. It wasn't very busy anyway. I-I can close alone." You couldn't really control the way you spoke at this point, not when Jisung was now rubbing your entrance with his soft fingers, placing soft kisses on your ass. Jisung slowly plunged his fingers inside of you, giving you the stretch you desperately needed.

"Are you sure you're okay," he asks, staring at your flustered expression.

"I'm fine, just a little pain. It's nothing I haven't dealt with before."

Chenle nods, feeling unsure about your answer, but too tired to probe any further. "Okay..if you say so. I'm gonna get my stuff and leave through the back," he said.

"That's fine, just make sure to lock the door on your way out."

You watched Chenle as he nodded and walked away into the back. Watching the door close, you immediately collapse onto the counter, body spent from trying to remain as normal as possible in front of your coworker. Jisung was in awe at how you began to move your hips against his fingers, the desperation in your movements and soft moans. Cunt so wet, your arousal began dripping down his hand. The sound of his fingers moving in and out of you filled the space, your soft whines filling his ears.

"J-jisung, oh fuck," you moaned softly. "I-it feels so good."

"I know baby, I know, but we don't want your friend catching us, do we," he mumbled.

"N-no. I'll keep quiet."

"That's my good girl."

Your attention was split between the man below you and the man on the other side of the wall, making sure he couldn't see you or hear you. But soon enough your focus was all on Jisung who pulled his fingers out your cunt. You whined at the loss of his hand, looking back wondering why he stopped. That's when your body was forced around, back now leaning on the counter like before. Jisung sunk his fingers back into you, fingering you with the same passion as before as he attached his plump lips to your clit.

"Oh my god," you whimpered in a broken moan. Your hand gradually made its way to his hair, cupping the back of his head as you began to move your hips on his hand and face. Jisung sucked you clit hard, flicking his tongue on the bud all while jerking himself under you.

"You're gonna cum for me baby," he mumbled under you.

"Y-yes, fuck, make me cum," you grunted softly.

His moans against your clit sent vibrations all over your body, almost sending you into overdrive. The pleased look on his face, eye contact, his whimpers were far more than you could imagine.

"A-ah, fuck.."

"C'mon baby cum," he mumbled, stroking himself faster. "Cum on my tongue. That's it pretty girl, ride my fucking face. Make me drown in this pussy."

The thought of Chenle being in the back completely disappeared from both of your minds, the both of you moaning and whimpering louder. Your whines and whimpers filled the room as you threw your head back. Jisung fingered you faster, curling his fingers inside of you.

"O-oh fuck, I'm cumming Jisung.." Your body shuddered as you took a hold of his hair, cumming on his fingers and tongue that was flicking your clit even faster through your orgasm.

"Keep cumming baby, don't stop. You're so pretty when you cum baby. Prettiest girl I've ever seen."

Jisung pulled his fingers out of your dripping cunt, cum covering every inch of them. He was so fucked out of his mind, he had to taste you. You watched him as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, tongue swirling all over to savor the taste of your cum. He sucked his fingers clean, eyes never leaving yours. But he couldn’t get enough of you. Jisung dived right back between your legs, making you whine as you leaned on the counter.

"Yeah, just like that. Fuck, that feels so good," you whimpered, throwing your head back in pleasure. Your hips moved on their own at this point, riding his face once again, grinding down on his tongue as his nose nudged your clit in the best possible way.

"This pussy loves me, doesn't it, hm," he mumbled, chuckling darkly, feeling your hand pull his hair harder.

"Mhm." You nodded fast, brows knitting feeling that familiar storm of butterflies. "Shit, I'm cumming again."

Jisung smiled between your legs feeling your legs shake again as you gushed all over his tongue. He lapped your cum up like a dog, thirsty for more of your taste. "Good girl. Good fucking girl."

"I-I want you to cum too," you tell him, making him chuckle. "Cum in my mouth, please." You and Jisung quickly switch positions, you now being faced with his rock hard cock. You spit on the tip, licking the flesh messily. Jisung watched you, face still wet from your cum as he moaned softly at the feeling of your mouth. You take him down your throat, gagging slightly as his tip hits the back. Jisung marveled in the way your watery eyes never left his, the way you remained a good girl just for him. Jisung's hand tangled in your hair, the tug hurting in the best way as he began fucking your mouth.

"Take it," he grunted through gritted teeth. "This is what you wanted isn't it? Only sluts want something like this."

Jisung fucked your throat more and more roughly as his orgasm began approaching. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, moaning around him sending vibrations through his body. Jisung pulled himself out your mouth, watching you cough and catch your breath. He tugged his cock quickly, tilting your head up for his orgasm.

"You're so pretty for me on your knees. You take me so good, fitting my big cock in your mouth." He was rambling, brows furrowing as his moans and whimpers grew faster in speed and louder in volume. You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out making Jisung lose it. He stroked himself fast, panting, getting louder and louder, faster and faster. Placing his tip on your tongue, he stroked himself faster, big brown eyes never leaving the scene below him.

"A-ah fuck, open wide for me, swallow it all." Jisung came, ropes of cum shooting all over your lips, tongue, face, everywhere. His shaky moans hit your eardrums in the best way possible, the visual of him still milking his hard cock making you wet all over again. The man watched you as you took a bit of his cum off your cheek, sucking your finger right after.

"That's the hottest thing I've ever seen," he mumbled between breaths. Jisung was spent, that being the most intense orgasm he had in a while, he was exhausted. You on the other hand couldn't have been happier. Yes, he did just fuck a fan and it's frowned upon, but you didn't care about any of that. You gave him a blowjob while he ate you out at your job. Life couldn't get any better than that.

Rising to your feet, Jisung took your waist in his arm fast. "Let's get you cleaned up. You must be tired," he said softly.

"I-I am." Jisung grabbed a couple of napkins and wet them before turning to you. He tilted your chin up softly, taking the wet paper to your skin. He wiped his cum off your face gently, making sure not to hurt you in the process.

"Fuck, I can't believe I just did that," he rumbled. "I can't believe you let me do that."

"I'd let you do anything." Jisung enjoyed the lust, fucked out look in your eyes. The way you batted your lashes, still just as pretty as you were before getting your face fucked.

He smiled, a raspy chuckle erupting from his chest. "We have to get out of here. I'm sure some people walking by have already seen us, not that I mind."

"I-I don't mind either, but I don't think anyone walked by or even saw us." You pulled your clothes back on, getting fully dressed in the open area behind the counter along with Jisung who was trying his sweats.

"So, about that coffee," he started. "Do I still have to pay?"

You laughed softly, biting your lip softly. "I completely forgot about that."

"I didn't expect you to remember," he laughed. "not when I just fucked every thought out of you. By the way,..." Jisung grabbed his phone off the counter behind you, not breaking his stare. "Give me your number."

"M-Me?"

"Yeah, who else," he laughed. You gave him your number, cheeks on fire as you typed. The man of your dreams not only fucked you, but now has your number.

"We should meet tomorrow. At my place," he suggested.

You nodded slowly, gulping as he took your waist in his large hands. You could feel yourself melting yet again, just wanting to sink to your knees and let him have his way with you. "w-why your place?"

He leaned into your ear, breath tickling your skin. "So I could give you some private audios. Ones where it's just you and me. How does that sound?"

You look up at him, nodding frantically as you feel the space between your legs flood with arousal once again. "G-good."

"I knew it would." Jisung took his phone, placing it in his pocket. "I would offer you a ride, but I don't have a car," he laughed softly.

"I-it's fine, I have to finish anyway. You go ahead," you said, shooing him away with your hand.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah," you nod. Jisung waves goodbye, walking out the door and into the darkness of the street without looking back. You didn't know you were holding your breath as he left, but you exhaled dramatically, internally screaming at the events that just took place. Never in your wildest dreams would you ever think you'd be in a room alone with the man who makes your audio porn, but things just happen.

You were far too exhausted after standing on your feet all day and having the best sex of your life to continue cleaning, so you decided to just leave and go home early. You were sure you were going to have to hear a mouthful from your manager the next day, it's nothing you haven't heard before.

Grabbing your phone, you shoved it in your pocket along with making sure all of your other belongings were with you before you left. You often didn't bring much with you to work, just anything that could fit in your pocket. Turning the lights off, you walked to the front of the store, locking the large glass door and closing it, finally finishing up for the day.

The only thing you didn't know was that Chenle was still in the back, and watched every bit of what happened through the security cameras.

[i-am-countess-olivia]

From this exchange with @wandererseas.

James finds Jopson in possession of a Captain Crozier heart locket.

--

Outside the door after another grim supper of Francis stewing in the black, James comes into collision with the man's inbound steward. They jostle and side-step for a spell, Jopson whispering apologies, and when James shoulders him in an attempt to give room, something strikes the boards between them with a tiny metal clack.

James bends just as Jopson lurches sharply, as if thrown by a squall. Their foreheads strike hard.

"Careful, man!" James demands, annoyed. Rubbing his brow, he lowers himself to collect whatever dropped and at the sight of it his mood improves.

Having straightened, he holds up the little brass treasure between thumb and forefinger: cheap, a little worn, without a chain.

"Lucky devil, Jopson," he declares. "Has she got a name?"

Jopson's eyes dance anywhere but James' face. He extends out a trembling hand. "Thank you, sir."

"Just a moment. May I?" James asks with all friendly grace.

But Jopson only swallows and fixedly stares. James can't make it out: why does the man look so stricken, as if by the name of this very ship?

He laughs. "She's not a dog, is she, Thomas? Come now—"

The lock pricks sharp against his finger and the tiny heart swings unhinged. All traces of mirth slide from James' face.

"Jopson!" The captain's cabin half-roars, half-croaks.

"Commander, I beg you—" Jopson pleads. He sounds on verge of tears.

In James' palm, the object burns as hot as his face. "What— no, you wait here, you must explain. What is the meaning? Does—" He dares to glance again at the two halves of the brass heart: two full colour miniatures, done in a mediocre brush yet unmistakable in their likeness turn towards each other in wistful profile:

Thomas Jopson on the left, Francis Crozier on the right.

James drops his voice to a hard whisper: "Does he force you to carry this?"

He wouldn't put it past the man.

Jopson heartily shakes his head. "No, sir, please— Understand, it was given to me as a joke— another voyage, another crew, a little joke from them—"

"JOPSON!"

Whether it is the roar or the two visages who lock sentimental gazes in the cup of his hand, an anger boils over in James — hot and shapeless and—

"You cannot have this," he states abruptly. "If the men knew, it would look very bad indeed. I am confiscating it until such a time as I see fit."

Jopson shrinks against the door that summons him with such force, eyes brimming but offering no complaint.

"So now go to him," James half-snarls and then, recovering at least a surface of composure, adds: "Good night, Jopson."

On his dark and icy walk back to Erebus, he cannot help but paw at the blasted thing in his pocket. It burns him like a heart-shaped ember and stokes the unaccountable fury that rose at his awareness of its existence.

Later, in his berth, undressed, he reaches for it again. He snaps it open and soft fondles and hard stares as if he might force his will onto the heart and its contents, to what end he knows not.

At last, he slides a thumb over the left image, holds it like that covered, and feels marginally better.

[lokisprettygirl]

Rain to his Fire (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon 80s Au) (18+)

Read chapter 1 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 2

Summary: Dr. Vis gives you the responsibility of the patient in room 393.

Warning: 18+, discussion of mental health (it's a fic based in a mental health facility), the fic would contain several mentions of several disorders like mpd, did etc, if something triggers you don't read, smoking.

Note : This fic is a bit of a slow burn so don't expect overly heated smut in the second chapter itself.

Species dysphoria, that's what they called it, a feeling of displacement or non-belonging in one's own species and feeling as if you belong to another. Your mother used to talk about one of her patients who felt this way and believed he was a crow - he would make crow sounds, walk and act like one, and even attempted to fly like a crow, which led to him breaking most of his bones.

Upon learning about Daemon's condition, you recognized the similarity to the patient who thought he was a crow, but you also recognized that Daemon was not constantly pretending to be a dragon, he just said that he was one, not just a dragon but a hybrid instead. As you had woken up this morning Mona had informed you that Dr. Vis wanted to meet you which had immediately made you all nervous.

“Good morning Dr. Vis” you mumbled politely so he gestured to you to sit down. He was an intimidating man with brown hair and few wrinkles that came with age of course, eyes always hidden behind those thick glasses, and you had never seen him in anything but the professional suit he would wear and of course the doctor's coat. As the silence made you uncomfortable you began to pick on your nails nervously like you always did in anxious situations.

“The new patient in 393 is not allowed to leave his room for two days, I want you to make sure his meals and medicines are taken care of” he passed you a piece of paper as he spoke so you nodded. The paper contained a breakdown of the patient's diet plan and a list of medications.

“Anything else sir?” You asked him so he gave you a smile,

“Don't be fooled by his charm, he's insane but very sharp minded, he can read weaknesses and he will try to manipulate you”

You felt slightly offended at his words, just because he was a semi good looking man that didn't mean you were going to salivate after him like Shyla and others.

“Don't worry sir, I don't get overly involved with patients”

He gave you another smile but it only made you more uncomfortable.

“That's why I'm giving you this responsibility, get going now”

You got up and proceeded to step out of his office, there was always a shortage of staff in the center, the main reasons being that it was located right in between the dense woods where it wasn't really possible for everyone to spend hours commuting back and forth everyday, and not everyone was willing to stay here 24/7, only single people and those desperate for a job did so. People like you.

During Lunch time you grabbed the plate for Daemon and placed it on a tray as you made your way to room 393, you knocked on his door twice before you entered yourself.

It was dark in there as the blinds were off so you placed the cart on the side and were about to open the blinds when you heard his distinct voice.

“Don't do it” his voice came out all groggy so you hummed in response and turned on the bedside lamp instead to not irritate him further.

“You need to eat before your medication” you mumbled softly as you neared the bed, he was laying on his front with his head squished into the pillow, as usual he didn't have a shirt on. You couldn't help but stare at the large, diagonal scars that stretched across his back, which looked like they'd been inflicted by a large object. Despite the urge to touch them, you refrained but you wondered how he had gotten them.

“Daemon?” You called out his name again so he rose from the bed and stepped towards the bathroom, letting out a low moan of discomfort. You had to turn around quickly because as the sheets dropped his naked sculpted behind came into your view. His room was also freezing cold so you wondered how Dr. Vis had allowed him this privilege in this cold weather.

As Daemon stepped out of the bathroom he smirked as he saw you standing with your back against the bathroom. You had your usual work uniform on, a light brown colored dress with a cardigan on top.

“Never seen a man naked before?” He asked as he pulled his pants up you so you rolled your eyes, that was none of his business even if you hadn't.

“Don't speak to me like that, I'm not your servant” you warned him as you turned around hoping that you'd not see him naked again.

“Mmmmmhhhmmm of course you're the doctor's servant aren't you? That is why you are here, attempting to impress him with a job well done so perhaps he'd pity fuck you finally and you'd get a promotion?” He spoke with that annoying smirk on his face but his eyes softened as you teared up, you had never been spoken to this way, people mostly respected you here, patients and staff alike.

“Finish your food, I'll be back in half an hour” you told him sternly as you walked past him but your breath hitched as he grabbed your upper arm.

“Stay, I'm sorry, I don't want to be alone” the tone of his voice had changed suddenly so you sighed,

“Will you behave?” You asked him sternly so he nodded before he sat down on the bed so you passed him the plate of food you had brought for him.

“I'm not your enemy alright, i have been assigned to take care of you-” before you could even finish your sentence he cut you off and looked you in the eye,

“Take care of me? Pretty girl you have no clue what you'd have to do for me if you really want to take care of me” he mumbled as he shoved a piece of steak into his mouth. You never had an urge to slap a patient until now.

“You're doing it again”

“I'm jesting..I'm bored senseless,”

“Well you must have pissed them off to deserve the confinement, otherwise you'd have been out there doing fun activities with other patients” you retorted so he opened his mouth and smirked again,

“Does the fun involve orgies?”

Taking a deep sigh you didn't respond this time as you didn't want to encourage him. When he was done eating you made sure he had ingested his medicines before you left him alone for good.

After two days of isolation, Dr. Vis had granted Daemon the brief privilege to take a walk outside. You were entrusted with accompanying him throughout the premises. Despite the fact that he was handcuffed, you couldn't help but feel nervous about being alone with him, given his unpredictable nature.

As the two of you reached the conclusion of the walking path, Daemon chose to settle on a grassy patch, he seemed calm for once so you didn't want to disturb him.

“Sit with me y/n” he mumbled softly so you nodded and sat down next to him to offer him some company. Isolation wasn't pleasant.

“What's a lady like you doing around here? Does the constant exposure to such madness not drive you mad as well?” he asked you with a touch of curiosity so you turned to look at him.

“First of all What do you mean a lady like me?” You asked him so he made eye contact with you before he smiled like a cheshire cat.

“You're too pretty to be cleaning up after crazies” your face felt warm as he said that, you didn't appreciate him calling the fellow patients crazy but his compliment almost sounded genuine and you weren't used to being complimented this way, it also sucked that he was kind of sort of beautiful, you couldn't help but stare at his sharp features, perhaps those strange features contributed into making him believe that he was an otherworldly creature that don't even exist..

“What's wrong with helping people? Besides they're not crazy…most of them are just sick and traumatized from their past, there's a reason behind every ailment” you emphasized so he let out the sort of smile that you could hear.

“How old are you?” He asked you so you shrugged in response.

“30..close to 31” you mumbled softly and you could tell he was surprised by the knowledge.

“You don't look a day older than twenty five darling”

“Well there's not much difference between 25 and 30.. how old are you?”

“Why would you want to know?”

He asked you and you almost felt embarrassed, now you could see what Dr. Vis meant when he said that Daemon was a charming man.

“I'm just countering your questions buddy”

He chuckled as you said that.

“I'm thirty four sweetheart”

“Mhhhm and since when you feel that you're a uhhh…a dragon?”

The look on his face changed as you brought it up , he turned his whole body towards you and scooted closer as he looked at you intently.

“Don't mock me frail little thing, it would do you no good” he hissed his words, perhaps in an attempt to intimidate you but he was handcuffed. What's the worst he could do? And why did you want to figure it out so badly?

“I was just asking you a genuine question”

“Did Vis ask you to shove your nose into my personal business?” he questioned so you shook your head immediately.

“Noo i am curious”

“Ohhh I know you're curious”

He tilted his head and pressed his nose against your neck to sniff you again, this time in broad daylight, if someone was to see you like this it wouldn't go down well.

“You didn't answer my question”

You mumbled gently so he dragged his nose over the vein on your neck before he stepped away, that's when you were able to let out the breath you had been holding in.

“For as long as I could remember, I knew what I was”

His voice was deep as he whispered, pupils dilated now as if he was drunk or high on something all of a sudden.

“Why do you sniff me like this?” you asked him, curiosity apparent in your tone.

“To read, to assess, to judge”

“What are you assessing?”

“Assessing whether you are as sweet on the inside as you smell and look”

“Alright…umm we need to get back now” you stood up suddenly so he snickered as if he was proud of himself.

You knew you had to maintain some professional distance from him if he was going to sniff you out of nowhere.

And you knew you had to deny the fact that it made you feel so warm and tingly sudden whenever he was so close to you.

Perhaps you had an ailment of your own because you had never really felt a genuine sexual attraction towards a man all your life, the only crush towards the opposite sex you remember having as a child was on this actor from the movies, Paul Newman. Men didn't attract you, nor did women, you loved the idea of romance and love but you had never experienced it, you never found yourself thinking or dreaming about anyone constantly. It made you yearn for that sort of connection but you were never able to find it in a man. You had learned to accept it as it was.

But something changed that night, as you laid down on your bed you found yourself thinking about him, his hazel eyes that you could have sworn were glowing under the sunlight, his silver hair longing to be touched.

“Fucking stop it..he's sick ..he's sick…he's a patient, you're responsible for him in a way so stop indulging him” you mumbled in your head over and over again until you were drifted into sleep.

But the sleep didn't bring you any relief, it worsened it instead. You saw him in your dream, you saw yourself laying on the same patch of grass and he was on top of you all naked, as you pressed your head up you realized you didn't have any clothes on either, your legs were secured around his slender waist, his hair falling on your face so you tucked them behind his ear, that's when he lifted his head up to look at you.

He licked your lips with his tongue, before he kissed you and it was as if you could feel his touch all over you, he was burning like a fire but you didn't feel uncomfortable, it calmed you instead. The wet grass beneath your flesh, the warmth of his body all around you, the smell of the forest, everything intoxicated you.

He then let out a growl as his hips moved slowly against yours,

“Daemon–” you couldn't help but moan his name, your fingers clutched onto the strands of grass so he grabbed your hands and placed them over your head,

“You're mine you know that right? I have got my eyes on you and I'm not leaving without you, the moment I saw you i knew you belonged to me, a part of my soul that I have been missing”

He mumbled between his staggering breaths and all you could do was whine and whimper in response, your arms wrapped around his upper back and then you felt something.

Something protruding out of his back, wings, you felt the wings….

That's when you were awakened by the loud sound of your alarm, drenched in your own sweat, breathing was faster as if you had raced away from something, and worst of all your panties were soaked.

“What the fuck…the fuck” you groaned as you got out of the bed.

The dream, it was so vivid, it felt so real. It felt like a memory you have never lived.

That afternoon you were asked to grab his meal and leave it outside of his room but that bothered you. Why wasn't he present in the cafeteria with other patients? Had he done something to warrant confinement again?

As his plate was made you placed it on a cart along with a glass of water and made way to his room..

You were instructed to leave the food outside his room with a knock but you felt restless. Why weren't you allowed to see him?

After wrestling with your thoughts for a moment you decided to enter instead, there was no one around the hallway and if you were caught you'd simply tell them that you only went inside to check up on him because he hadn't come out for his food in a while.

As you stepped inside his room you found him on the floor instead of the bed so you quickly closed the door behind you,

“Daemon.. hey” you crouched down to check up on him as he wasn't conscious and immediately checked his pulse for signs of life. Upon confirming that he was indeed breathing, you proceeded to look around for signs of injury or drug overdose, but found nothing out of the ordinary. Desperate to awaken him, you snatched the glass of water and sprinkled the droplets over his face.

And it worked, you saw him moving his eyes before he opened them up slowly,

“Heyyyy ..oh thank God, are you okay” you asked him worriedly so he sat up slowly. He was still in his uniform as he had returned from his therapy session with Dr. Vis.

“What happened?” He asked you so you looked at him worriedly.

“You were unconscious..I don't know for how long” he placed his hand over his head and that's when he cursed loudly.

“The bastard zapped me”

“What?” You asked him confused so he groaned as he tried to stand up on his own but his body felt weak so you offered your support and that's when it clicked what he had meant.

“He used a stun gun on you?” You asked him as you helped him sit down on the bed.

“Leave me alone” he mumbled as he placed his head down into his palms so you sighed and got up,

“Will you eat?” You asked him and perhaps it was the gentle tone of your voice but as he looked up at you, his eyes were teary

“Don't go…don't leave me alone”

The sad murmur of his voice made you feel really awful for him, the constant mood swings, the way he seemed so broken bothered you alot.

“I can't stay, I was asked to leave your food outside, I'm already breaking my code”

You said to him so he grabbed your hand, his thumb ran over your fingernails, they were red and flamed from the recent biting and picking and you felt a little embarrassed by them, not to mention his touch was making you feel weak at the same time.

“Why did he use a stun gun?” You asked as you crouched down on your knees and placed your palm on his shoulder to comfort him.

“So I'd accept that I'm not a dragon, that I'm just an ordinary man like him.. like all of them”

He mumbled somberly, his words were broken in pieces and it made your own eyes tear up “I am not crazy y/n”

“I know, you just need help-”

“I don't need help, I need to be understood”

“I..” you were at a loss for words as he said that, you wanted to comfort him but you didn't want to lie to him.

“Understood?”

“I know what I am..I'm not delusional or whatever they're trying to make me believe”

“Okay..then why did you agree to come here?”

He went quiet as you questioned him. This wasn't an asylum where people were forced against their will, it was a wellness center. If he didn't want to get better then why did he come here?

“I made a mistake out there .. I didn't know.. couldn't control my powers–they come and go in waves..i have no control..no–” the moment he saw the perplexed look on your face he stopped his rambling, he was saying too much too soon, you weren't going to believe him, nobody believed him “Just go ..I'm done talking”

You nodded as he said that as you didn't want him to get upset or mad again but before leaving you made sure that he was fed.

You felt conflicted about him, he didn't seem dangerous, sure he had his moments of aggression but so did several other patients, why was he being treated so harshly by Dr. Vis?

You couldn't stop thinking about him even when your shift had ended. Sick people were capable of convincing you that they were not sick at all, it wasn't their fault, that's just how their brain operated but Daemon seemed different, you couldn't put your finger on it but he seemed different from the rest of the patients.

That week you didn't see much of him because you weren't really allowed to, Dr. Lisa had informed all the members of the staff that Dr. Vis didn't want anyone interacting with Daemon due to his aggressive and unstable temperament.

Such restrictions only made you want to seek him out further, your mother always told you that patients flourished when they were allowed to be free and form human connections with their caregivers and fellow mates so why was Daemon being treated so differently? That night on the way to the terrace you knocked on his door twice before you climbed the stairs, as you reached up there you didn't lock the door this time from the inside,

“And here I was thinking you were a stickler about this job”

You heard his voice so you smiled and turned around, you had your coat on and your arms crossed together due to the cold but he was without a shirt again. Why didn't he feel cold? Or was he good at pretending he wasn't affected in the slightest?

“I am not going to offer you a cigarette if that's why you came here” you told him so he walked closer to you.

“Tchhh that's a bummer but this ain't too bad either”

He mumbled as he walked past you and leaned against the ledge to look at you intently. What was he thinking you thought, perhaps the fact that you had invited him upstairs when you had no obligation or rights to do so.

“You're cold” he mumbled softly so you chuckled in response

“It's cold out here”

“Mmmhm come here” he tilted his head as he spoke and it made you nervous, the look on his face sent shivers down your spine. You had to remind yourself of your situations to snap back to reality.

“So they will be lifting the restrictions tomorrow..you must be doing well in the therapy” you switched the conversation so he rolled his eyes in response,

“I'm doing what he want me to do”

“And why is that?”

“I want my freedom” he mumbled so you nodded but what he said next made your heart skip a beat “and i miss a certain lady's presence in my room and her forcing me to fucking eat all the time”

You couldn't help but smile as he finished his words.

“Do you feel better?” you asked him in the hope that he won't notice the warmth his words had brought.

“I do now”

Was he flirting with you? You couldn't really tell, you had no idea what he was planning in his head.

“Okay we should go back now–” you mumbled softly so he followed you as you walked side by side, being as careful as you could be.

As his room arrived you whispered a soft good night so he grabbed your hand in his own, his eyes then raked over your fingernails before he looked at you intently

"Next time you're anxious you can use my flesh to pick on, don't ruin yourself"

And then he went in without causing a scene. You hadn't realized all day that you had been smiling constantly these days for some reason. Perhaps you had a crush on him, if this is what a crush on a real man felt like. It was wrong, completely wrong but a crush was just that, a crush. You'd get over it, you were confident about that.

However the next morning you were greeted with an unexpected turn of events as you arrived at the staff area. Mona informed you that Shyla was let go that morning so you'd have to take up double shifts for a few days until the new member was hired,

“Wait ..what happened?” You asked her worriedly so Mona's expression turned serious as she glanced around, ensuring no one was in earshot before stepping closer to you.

“She was caught fooling around with the dragon boy, such a stupid girl”

😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Taglist

@anukulee @ammo23 @littledark11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

[derangedanomaly]

Wait since we're asking about kinks now- what are all of the guys and the stars kinks? Do they have any lol? I'm genuinely curious

*rubs my hands together* This one's gonna be a ride. 😈🙏🏻

Nah- without jokes now lol. I need to cleanse myself after this lmao. DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE ANYTHING REGARDING SEX.

TW: NSFW CONTENT, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

Chaos

I can imagine Chaos being a family kinda guy. Like, family probably means A LOT to him, so I can definitely see Chaos having a breeding kink. Something about his partner's belly being full, because he got them pregnant does a lot of things to him.

Chaos is never the type that chases for his own pleasure, I really think that he'd prioritize what you want, when it comes to having fun in the sheets. So I can see him doing fingering/blow job to his partner. He's the type of guy that loves to praise the shit out of you, but also playfully kinda degrade you. Like- he'd probably say something like, "Oh...your doing such a good job for me...what do you think would happen if the others found you drooling all over my cock? What would they think of you?" Followed by, "....Would you like to find out?"

Since Chaos is into having a family, I can see him also having a daddy kink. And along with this all, I can for some reason, also see him being into Katoptronphilia, which is a fascination with mirrors, or more specifically, watching yourself in a sexual situation. So I think that Chaos would make you watch yourself in the mirror, while fucking you from behind.

Nightmare

I've established before that Nightmare's into master kink, just calling him anything that gives him a sense of power is enough to get him hot. (Master, King, Sir,...)

But between all this, I can also see him being into Impact play, this involves hitting or being hit with an object in a safe and consensual way. Nightmare wants to feel that he's always in control. So he'd 100% whip you with a whip or just slap you anyhow. He'd probably also be pretty rough, just to show you that he's the one in control. Speaking of control... Orgasm control is also a thing he'd be SUPER into. But he's a giant asshole too, he'd be SO unfair when he'd use a vibrator or anything else on you. He WON'T let you taste that sweet sweet release at all. The only thing I'll say...is dirty talk. And he's really good at it too.. He could probably make you come just from his words alone.

Ace

Ace is pretty much a sub. It's pretty easy to drive him into submission, because he doesn't NEED to be the dominant one in a relationship. He's just happy he even has a partner to be honest. But I can see Ace being a sadist. Just you hurting him anyhow drives him nuts probably. Because he's the stronger one, he's the one that holds more power than you, so the feeling of you actually landing a hit on him has him weak.

Cuckolding is also a thing that he IMMENSLY gets off of. This a kink or a fetish is the act of being turned on by watching your partner get it on with someone else. He feels a little guilty about actually liking this, but he can't deny it.

Blade

Is anyone really surprised when I say that Blade's into knife play? Blade enjoys the thought of running his sharp, bloody knife along the curves of your glistening body. He also pretty much gets off of seeing you covered in blood. Really anything that's connected with blood or knives, he likes it. I do not recommend telling him that you're on your period. He'd eat you out if you did. Never probably stopping until you'd pass out. Even if someone would barge into the room, he WOULDN'T stop. Not at all.

Blade also degrades you VERY MUCH, he LOVES to tell you stuff that makes you embarrassed while he's pumping you from behind. He's also into Voyeurism, which is the sexual interest in or practice of watching other people engaged in intimate behaviors, such as undressing, sexual activity, or other actions of a private nature. He 100% hides somewhere in your room just to watch you get undressed. The thought of you not knowing he's there only makes him more and more hot.

Ted

Ted promised himself that he'd never engage in sexual intercourse ever again after the accident where he lost his virginity, so you would have to build a LOT of trust with him for him to do that with you. He's like- "Sex...?....Ew....."

But I can see Ted being very careful with you, treating you almost as if you were made from glass. After all, the last time he did go....rough.... VERY rough... he killed the woman. Shockingly. And he cares about you, he doesn't want to kill you with his ginormous size. :(

I think that Ted's the type of person to be VERY gentle and kind when having sex. As for the kinks, I don't really think he cares that much when it comes to it, because he'd do anything you ask him to do, except for the things that would hurt you in any way. He truly does NOT want to hurt you.

NOTE: I wanted to write the Star Sanses too- but It was SO much that I lost motivation to write any more. I'm so sorry!

[sassenach77yle]

7x12 “Carnal Knowledge”

DAN MORGAN’S “IT” WAS nearby: a ramshackle cabin set in a little elm grove, down a short dirt lane off the main road. There was a big gray gelding hobbled and cropping grass nearby, his tack resting on the porch; he looked up briefly and whinnied at the newcomers.

Jamie ducked under the lintel after Dan and found himself in a dark, shabby room that smelled of cabbage water, grime, and the sharp reek of urine. There was one window, its shutters left open for air, and the sunlight coming in silhouetted the long-skulled head of a large man sitting at the table, who raised his head at the opening of the door.

“Colonel Morgan,” he said, in a soft voice touched with the drawl of Virginia. “Have you brought me good news?”

“That’s just what I brought you, General,” auld Dan said, and shoved Jamie ahead of him toward the table. “I found this rascal on the road and bade him come along. This’ll be Colonel Fraser, who I’ve told you of before. Just come back from Scotland, and the very man to take command of Taylor’s troops.”

The big man had risen from the table and put out a hand, smiling—though he smiled with his lips pressed tight together, as though afraid something might escape. The man was as tall as Jamie himself, and Jamie found himself looking straight into sharp gray-blue eyes that took his measure in the instant it took to shake hands. “George Washington,” the man said. “Your servant, sir.” “James Fraser,” Jamie said, feeling mildly stunned. “Your . . . most obedient. Sir.” “Sit with me, Colonel Fraser.”

The big Virginian gestured toward one of the rough benches at the table. “My horse pulled up lame, and my slave’s gone to find another. No notion how long it may take him, as I require a good sturdy beast to bear my weight, and those are thin on the ground these days.” He looked Jamie up and down with frank appraisal; they were much of a size. “I don’t suppose you have a decent horse with you, sir?” “Aye, I do.” It was clear what Washington expected, and Jamie yielded gracefully. “Will ye do me the honor to take him, General?” Auld Dan made a disgruntled noise and shifted from foot to foot, clearly wanting to object, but Jamie gave him a brief shake of the head. It wasn’t that far to Philadelphia; he could walk. Washington looked pleased and thanked Jamie with grace in turn, saying that the horse should be returned to him as soon as another suitable mount might be procured. “But it is somewhat necessary that I be nimble at present, Colonel,” Washington remarked, with an air of apology. “You’re aware, are you, that Clinton is withdrawing from Philadelphia?”

A shock went through Jamie like a hot penny dropped on butter. “It—he—no, sir. I was not aware.” “I was just about to get to that,” Dan said tetchily. “No one lets me get one word in edgewise, I tell you.” “Well, now you’ve got one,” Washington said, amused. “You might get another, if you’re quick enough to speak before Lee gets here. Sit down, gentlemen, if you will. I’m expecting—ah, there they are.” Sounds from the dooryard indicated a number of horsemen arriving, and within a few moments the cabin was crowded with Continental officers.[...]

“Colonel Fraser! Well met! Well met!” The voice jerked his attention away, and, to his astonishment, he found his hand being pumped with enthusiasm by Anthony Wayne—known quite openly by now as “Mad Anthony”—whom he had last seen a few weeks before the fall of Ticonderoga. “Is your wife well, sir, and your Indian nephew?” Wayne was asking, beaming up into Jamie’s face. Anthony was short and stocky, with the full cheeks of a chipmunk, but also equipped with a sharp, poking sort of nose over which his eyes did now and then seem to glow with fire. At the moment, Jamie was relieved to see them merely alight with friendly interest. “All well, sir, I thank ye. And—” “Tell me, is your wife near at hand?” Wayne moved a little closer and lowered his voice a bit. “I’ve been having the most damnable time with my gouty foot, and she did wonders with the abscess at the base of my spine while we were at Ti—” “Colonel Fraser, allow me to make you acquainted with Major General Charles Lee and with General Nathanael Greene.” George Washington’s voice drove a smooth Virginia wedge between himself and the base of Mad Anthony’s spine, to Jamie’s relief.

Besides Washington himself, Charles Lee was the best equipped of the lot, wearing complete uniform from gorget to polished boots. Jamie hadn’t met him before but could have picked him out of a crowd as a professional soldier, no matter how he was dressed. An Englishman of the sort who seemed always to be smelling something dubious, but he shook hands cordially enough, with a clipped “Your servant, sir.” Jamie knew exactly two things about Charles Lee, both told to him by Young Ian: to wit, that the man had a Mohawk wife—and that the Mohawk called him “Ounewaterika.” Ian said it meant “Boiling Water.” Between Mad Anthony and Boiling Water, Jamie was beginning to feel that he should have spurred up and run for it when he met Dan Morgan on the road, but too late for regrets. “Sit, gentlemen, we have no time to waste.” Washington turned to the woman in the corner. “Have you anything to drink, Mrs. Hardman?” Jamie saw her throat move as she swallowed, squeezing the child so hard that it squealed like a piglet and started to cry. He felt several of the men, doubtless fathers, wince at the sound. “No, Friend,” she said, and he realized she was a Quaker. “Naught but water from the well. Shall I fetch you a bucket?” “Don’t trouble thyself, Friend Hardman,” Nathanael Greene said, soft-voiced. “I’ve two bottles in my saddlebag will do us.” He moved slowly toward the woman, not to startle her, and took her gently by the arm. “Come outside. Thee needn’t be disturbed by this business.” He was a heavy, imposing man, who walked with a noticeable limp, but she seemed reassured by his plain speech and went with him, though looking back with an anxious face, as though fearing that the men might set fire to the place. A quarter hour later, Jamie wasn’t so sure that they might not ignite the cabin by the sheer force of their excitement. Washington and his troops had been bottled up at Valley Forge for the last six months, drilling and preparing, and the generals were on fire to be at the enemy. Much talk, plans proposed, argued over, put aside, returned to. Jamie listened with half a mind; the other half was in Philadelphia. He’d heard enough from Fergus to know that the city was divided, with regular clashes between Patriots and Loyalists, these kept under control only by the presence of the British soldiers—but the Loyalists were a minority. The moment the army’s protection was withdrawn, the Loyalists would be at the mercy of the Rebels—and Rebels who had been suppressed for months were not likely to be merciful. And Claire . . . His mouth went dry. Claire was, so far as anyone in Philadelphia knew, the wife of Lord John Grey, a very visible Loyalist. And Jamie himself had just removed John Grey’s protection from her, leaving her alone and helpless in a city about to explode. How long did he have before the British left the city? No one at the table knew. He took as little part as possible in the conversation, both because he was estimating how fast he could reach Philadelphia on foot—versus the possibility of going out to the privy and stealing back the horse he’d just given Washington—and because he hadn’t forgotten what auld Dan had said to General Washington when he’d dragged Jamie in here. The very last thing he wanted was—

“And you, Colonel Fraser,” Washington said. Jamie closed his eyes and commended his soul to God. “Will you do me the signal service of accepting command of Henry Taylor’s battalion? General Taylor fell ill and died two days ago.” “I . . . am honored, sir,” Jamie managed, thinking frantically. “But I have very urgent business . . . in Philadelphia. I should be happy to oblige ye, so soon as my business is accomplished—and I could, of course, bring back word of exactly how matters stand with General Clinton’s forces.” Washington had been looking severe during the first part of this speech, but the last sentence made Greene and Morgan hum with approval and Wayne nod his little chipmunk head. “Can you manage your business within three days, Colonel?” “Yes, sir!” It was no more than ten miles to the city; he could do that in two or three hours. And it wasn’t going to take him more than thirty seconds to take Claire out of that house, once he reached it.

“Very well, then. You’re appointed to a temporary field rank of General of the Army. That—”

“Ifrinn!” “I beg your pardon, Colonel?” Washington looked puzzled. Dan Morgan, who’d heard Jamie say “Hell!” in Gàidhlig before, shook silently beside him. “I—thank ye, sir.” He swallowed, feeling a dizzy wave of heat pass over him. “Though the Congress will have to approve your appointment,” Washington went on, frowning a little, “and there’s no guarantee as to what those contentious, shopkeeping sons of bitches will do.” “I understand, sir,” Jamie assured him. He could only hope. Dan Morgan passed him a bottle, and he drank deep, hardly noticing what was in it. Sweating profusely, he sank back on the bench, hoping to avoid any further notice.

Jesus, now what? He’d meant to slip quietly into the city and out again with Claire, then head south to retrieve his printing press, perhaps establish a wee business in Charleston or Savannah until the war was over and they could go home to the Ridge. But he had known there was a risk; any man below the age of sixty could be compelled into militia service, and if it came down to it, he was likely a little safer being a general than a commander of militia. Maybe. And a general could resign; that was a heartening thought. Despite all the talk and the worrying prospects of the immediate future, Jamie found himself paying more attention to Washington’s face than to what he said, taking note of how the man talked and carried himself, so that he could tell Claire. He wished that he could tell Brianna; she and Roger Mac had sometimes speculated about what it might be like to meet someone like Washington—though having met a number of famous people himself, he’d told her that the experience was likely to prove a disappointment. He would admit that Washington knew what he was about, though; he listened more than he talked, and when he said something, it was to the point. And he did give off an air of relaxed authority, though it was clear the present prospect excited him very much. His face was pockmarked, big-featured, and far from handsome, but had a good bit of dignity and presence. His expression had become very animated, and he went so far as to laugh now and then, showing very bad, stained teeth. Jamie was fascinated; Brianna had told him they were false, made of wood or hippopotamus ivory, and he had a sudden dislocating recollection of his grandfather: the Old Fox had had a set of teeth made of beechwood. Jamie had thrown them on the fire during an argument at Beaufort Castle—and just for an instant he was there, smelling peat smoke and roasting venison, every hair on his body a-prickle with warning, surrounded by kinsmen who might just kill him. And as suddenly he was back, pressed between Lee and auld Dan, smelling sweat and exhilaration and, despite himself, feeling the rising excitement among them begin to seep into his blood.

It gave him a queer feeling in his wame, to sit nay more than a foot away from a man whom he knew not at all but about whom he maybe kent more than the man himself.

True, he’d sat with Charles Stuart many evenings, knowing—and believing—what Claire had said would happen to him. But still . . . Christ had told doubting Thomas, “Blessed are those who have not seen but have believed.” Jamie wondered what you called those who had seen and were obliged to live with the resultant knowledge. He thought “blessed” was maybe not the word.

10 THE DESCENT OF HOLY GHOST UPON A RECLUTANT DISCIPLE ~ Written in My Own Heart's Blood

[your-local-hoemie]

I've genuinely never put in a request for something before so ur the first T.T

I was wondering, what would happen if you just wandered into scaramouche's room?

Im sorry if this is oddly specific, but I was hoping for a NS!FW M4M, possibly with Balladeer instead of wanderer, and if you do this thank you so much :))

NS!FW. 18+ ONLY!!!

OF COURSE!!!! Thank you for asking!!!!

You’ll have to forgive me if it’s not great. Even though I edge more towards masc im still not 100% sure how dudes work djdhdu

Also good lord, I went kind hard (hah) with this one, my cheeks were gLOWING while writing this. I’m never seeing heaven istg 💀

Edit: I accidentally went a little off script because I got extremely flustered so I’m sorry T-T

Warnings: ns!fw, dom!scaramouche (he needs his own warning), mild degradation, mean words, bratty behaviour, smug little shittery, lots of spicy words, swearing, male!reader, not proof-read.

Characters: scaramouche as: The ✨Balladeer✨

Scaramouche and you had a weird relationship.

No one knew whether you hated each other or if you were actually close.

Including you-

Sometimes you’d be at each other throat with any sharp object you could find and then the next, you’d be defending the other for whatever morally questionable crimes you had committed.

You happened to be one of the unfortunate fatui members that had been assigned to Scaramouche.

You don’t really know how he didn’t decide to murder you for your instinctive comebacks whenever he’d insult you.

He’s never admit it but he enjoyed having someone to banter with that wouldn’t immediately shit themselves the second he glanced at them.

Which is why you were now in his office for…

Well you didn’t really know.

He was busy doing paperwork that he was making extremely obvious that he hated every second of.

You were sitting in a chair across the room from him, equally as bored.

“So what exactly do you need me for… sir”

“To sit there and shut up.”

“…why?”

Letting out a sigh, Scara rolling his eyes, waving your questions off.

“You know, I’m supposed to be doing work. Going out, getting information, torturing, stealing, all the good stuff. Not sit in a room with a pouty brat-”

Clearing your throat, you suddenly realise what you had done.

Oh shit-

With a glare more threatening than a cryo mage in the rain. Scara placed his pen neatly down on the table, carefully organising the papers in front of him with sly grin.

Double shit-

“You know, you do a lot of talking for someone who can’t even handle to be alone in a room with their boss for more than an hour”

“Yeah well you’re not really the most enjoyable to be around…boss.”

The balladeers grin became even more sly as I pushed the chair away from his desk, standing up and taking a few steps forward, positioning himself right in front of you.

“I’ve had a very stressful day and I think I could use a little worshiping. Why don’t you use that mouth for something other than pathetic remarks, hm~?”

“Excuse me-?”

Without a hint of hesitation or shame, the harbinger placed his hand on your head. Most likely relishing the feeling of actually being taller than someone for once.

“Don’t act like our… banter doesn’t get you hard. I’ve seen the way you squirm when I get a little too close~”

Scaramouche pressed your head close to his crotch, speaking with a tone laced in sly smugness.

“I know you’ve imagined what I could do to you. I bet you even stroke yourself to the thought of me. Having the hand of a deity stroke you~”

Obviously he was right. Which just annoyed you even more, causing your pride to outweigh the sheer embarrassment coursing through your veins at his lewd words.

“You know how much shit you’d be in if I told anyone about this, right?

Scaramouche frowned at your remark, swiftly taking your chin in his hand and forcing you to look up at him.

“If a word of this leaves your mouth to anyone other than me, I will make you wish that I killed you. Understand me?”

Feeling your words catch in your throat, you give him a irritated nod, unable to fully deny how hot the whole situation was becoming.

“Good. Now, be a good for your god and worship me the way I deserve.”

Smirking down at you, Scara unbuttoned his shorts, letting his already hard dick bounce out against your face, making him sigh out in satisfaction.

“I always thought you looked so much better on your knee’s~ now suck.”

Blushing violently and not even able to deny how turned on you were, you locked eyes with The Balladeer and took him inside your mouth.

“Good boy~ just like that..”

Petting your hair with a surprising amount of gentleness, Scara pushed your head back and fourth, making you gag as his tip hits the back of your throat.

“Why don’t you touch yourself for me like the desperate, horny slut you are~”

Letting out a small, muffled whimper, you knew you were completely at his mercy as you couldn’t help but move your hand down, touching yourself as he commanded.

Scara thrust his hips more intensely, picking up his speed as moans and grunts escape his lips causing you to match his speed with your hand.

Feeling his hand grip tighter on your head, with one finally thrust and a loud groan of pleasure, scara finally released himself down your throat, pushing you over the edge as you coat your hand and pants in your load.

“Mmh! You’re such a good fuck toy,m. Now make sure to clean up the mess m’kay?”

Pulling out, leaving a messy string of saliva mixed with his load; Scara took a deep breath and returned to his paperwork like nothing happened, leaving you panting and and mess on the floor, still somewhat dazed.

“Y-yes…sir…”

HSIDUDICUIDJDIVUDO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

squeaks 👺👨‍🦽👹🧍

[nocandnc]

I wonder that in the wedding of Kafka and Mina, what would Okonogi and Hoshina do? Also who would try to catch the bouquet during the wedding reception? (I believe that would be Hoshina=))) And what was other's feeling after seeing that? Thank you for your time^^

Hi there~

It's funny you bring this up as I have a wedding-related OkoHoshi ficlette idea I've been tinkering with lately, though I don't know if I'll go ahead with it...

Anyways, KafMina wedding!!

They do strike me as the type to go with a modern western-style wedding, bouquet tossing and all! White is very much Mina's colour and she'd look gorgeous in a full bridal gown (Kafka is mildly scared to find a pistol strapped to her thigh later into the night, which she claims - somewhat unconvincingly, might he add - is a precaution against kaiju other than her new husband.)

Regarding Okonogi and Hoshina... I think they might be left out of the wedding party to be honest. Instead, Reno and Kikoru take up the position of Best Man and Maid of Honor respectively (+ Bakko as ring bearer). Not because Kafka and Mina wouldn't want them to take part, but if the Captain is busy celebrating her wedding day then the Vice Captain needs to be at the ready to take care of any urgent kaiju matters on her behalf, right? It just makes practical sense. As for Okonogi, well... she'd just feel too awkward being part of a fancy ceremony like that, even if the eyes weren't necessarily on her.

But Hoshina and Okonogi still attend as guests of course!

While Hoshina isn't a part of the wedding party proper, Kafka and Mina still pull him up on stage to give a speech early into the reception festivities. Okonogi makes no speeches but claps as others say their piece, eyes misty from joy and laughter.

The heartfelt anecdotes and silly jokes wrap up, after which there is cake and music and drinks of all kinds.

When it comes time to throw the bouquet, several ladies gather near the front in hopes of improving their chances of getting married catching the beautiful flower arrangement - but it turns out Mina's throwing arm is just as impressive as her firing one and she overshoots the crowd by a large margin.

It flies across the venue in a long arc, petals scattering along the unexpected trajectory.

Soshiro barely registers the object entering his peripheral but snatches it from the air flawlessly all the same - as expected, it takes the Vice Captain to catch the Captain's throws. He laughs a little at the bouquet that's now securely in hand, followed by further laughter as the attending women groan and cry out in disappointment.

"How could you, sir!"

"That's supposed to be for us girls!!"

"I caught it fair an' square!" He shoots back, waving the bouquet at them like a baton. "How about you try puttin' in a little more work for it next time!?"

It's all in good fun though, for the women laugh too and quickly return to drinking and dancing and the eating of cake.

Somewhat prior to this, a reticent Okonogi was dragged onto the dance floor by Akari and the rest for several fast-paced songs. Though she'd admit to having a bit of fun, that one bit was still more than enough for her. The Operations Leader sticks to lingering near the drink bar after this, quietly taking photos now and then - even snapping a shot of their Vice Captain catching Mina's bouquet when the cameraman wasn't ready - but otherwise content to watch the cheerful chaos from a distance.

A wallflower like her had no aspirations of catching flowers.

...Which is why Okonogi Konomi is all the more startled when the much-sought-after bouquet is suddenly shoved into her hands.

"Huh?"

"Hold these for me, would you dear?" Vice Captain Hoshina asks before she's even fully registered his presence.

"What??"

Amused by Konomi's bewildered state, Soshiro flashes his sharp canines at her along with his phone - a familiar Kaiju warning blinking violently across the narrow screen.

"Duty calls!"

[tellmeallaboutit]

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 15, In Which You Dance Twist With Mr. Goat (Pulp Fiction Style)

AO3

TAGS: self-harm, sharp objects, glass, politics

There was a time, not so long ago, when you were terrified of flying. 

The mere thought of that huge metal thing plummeting from the sky for no apparent reason (well, the human factor. It's always the human factor), a minute of sheer terror, descent, and then boom.

No survivors.

No bodies ever recovered.

You used to fear situations that so brazenly took control away from you. 

Well, you were wrong; there was something strangely comforting about letting go; about snuggling up in the plush comfort of an oversized leather seat, scrolling through messages on your phone to the roar of the twin engines. 

Raphael's hand was always on your knee, his tail wrapped tightly around your ankle, as if you could escape him on the private jet - or off it. A black diamond ring on your finger sparkled in the sunlight filtering through the oval windows. 

Across from you sat Camilla, while Jens occupied the far corner seat. Yurgir was conspicuously absent; you didn't pry into his reasons, just assumed his size exceeded the weight limit of any aircraft.

A headline in the Daily Mirror caught your eye: "Who is Anya Berger? What do we know about the mysterious girl who won the heart of a billionaire in ten days?"

What do they know, you wondered and clicked.

"Walk me through the panels again," Raul asked. "And the key people to talk to."

"Morning is boring," Korilla replied. "Mental health crisis, supply chain disruptions, sustainability regulations. You start in the afternoon, sir: your first is the AI discussions with the UN Secretary General's Special Envoy for Technology."

"I won't say a word about this soulless drivel," Raphael said, skimming through the agenda.

Camilla choked on her coffee while Jens flinched at her sudden movement, his hand swiftly resting on the gun now.

"Mr D'Avergni, Avernus' portfolio is 15% invested in AI technologies," she said as soon as she collected herself. "What do you mean 'soulless nonsense'? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said. I will not say a word about these abominable technologies. I have been made privy to information that they are cannibalising art and I will not stand for it". 

"Where did you hear this nonsense?" whispered Camilla. "Tumblr? Anya? Is that your doing?"

"I'm totally against AI," you interjected, without looking up from your phone, engrossed in the news article about your grunge heroin chic and manic-girl attitude.

They recommended black nail polish, drawing dark circles under your eyes and perfecting the look of total derangement to repeat your success. There were also some advanced blowjob techniques at the bottom of the article. 

"What is this panel 'Securing an Insecure World'?" asked Raphael. "I quite fancy the name."

"Sir, it has nothing to do with you. This is the macroeconomic panel on the dying middle class, youth problems, inequality, blah blah blah. Fear-mongering."

"Fear-mongering?" said Raphael. "I seem to have found my stage."

Camilla closed her eyes and put on her best smile. The flight attendant glided by in her pressed uniform and replaced your coffee; you were momentarily struck by the amount of cleavage she was showing as your eyes glanced upwards. 

To see very familiar eyes and a smile. Haarlep put a finger to her lips and gave you a little wink. You smiled back.

"Sir," Camilla said gently. "It doesn't work that way. You can't just speak whenever and about whatever you want in a global forum. It's all scripted, all pre-written."

"Astute observation," said Raphael. "Scripted conversations, scripted problems, scripted solutions, no room for improvisation. Davosneeds a breath of fresh air. Of honesty. Of a genuine hope for change".

Camilla said, "Of course, sir," and forced a smile. 

Back to the article: did they really get your ex-boyfriend to give an interview about you? Did he have anything good to say, that bastard who regularly forgot to flush the toilet?

Yes, he had plenty to say, mostly about you being not right in the head. You put him on your hit list and stroked Raphael's tail, which in turn stroked your ankle. They even got your mum on the phone, who thankfully had nothing much to say except that you were a good Catholic girl.

You saw some frantic movement out of the corner of your eye.

Camilla was waving you over to the plane's galley. You tried to get up, but were stopped by a tail wrapped around your ankle like a boa constrictor. "May I go to the toilet?" you asked, and Raphael uncoiled his tail, three times, with a slight reproach in his eyes. Jens did his best to keep a straight face, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Camilla pulled you deeper into the galley. She smelled of fresh coffee and burnout. 

"Anya, listen, I am very sorry that it has to come to this, but just between us girls..." she said, her fingers fidgeting with her diamond necklace. "Did Raul remember to take his medication today? I don't like his mood”. She shifted on her feet. "God, I miss the days when you could smoke in these things”.

"I'm not his doctor," you shrugged.

"Well, maybe it would be worth reminding him," Camilla drawled. "I'd rather not see viral videos of him committing political suicide in Davos. And I'm sure you'd agree."

You weren't so sure.

"I'm not going to poke the devil, and I suggest you don't either," you said, leaning against the galley counter.

Camilla sighed and gave you a very sympathetic smile.

"Anya, may I give you some friendly advice? Raul may seem like a half-god to you, but I've seen him curled up in a ball sobbing about how Daddy never loved him when he was high as a kite on coke. He's... as human as the rest of us. For better and worse”.

Just then, the plane shook violently, sending you both clutching the walls for support. The pilot quickly apologized over the intercom.

"Don't patronise me, Korilla," you said. "Do you think I'm just some pathetic, love-struck girl Raul likes to abuse?"

Camilla paused for a moment before suppressing a grin. "I'm going to invoke my right against self-incrimination. So tell me, my dear: who are you really?"

"Much more than meets the eye." You straightened up, standing slightly taller than her (which was not difficult). "I'm the one who gave him all this power in the first place."

"Wow," Kamilla snorted out in surprise. "Wow. Okay. Cool. Never mind."

"You need proof?" you said quietly. 

"Not really," she said.

"I wish you would get down on your knees and kiss my hand."

"What?" Kamilla burst out laughing. "Maybe you should share your medicine with Raul. Ask Dr Bambauer for a family discount. He will be at Davos, by the way, speaking on the mental health crisis".

"I wish for you to kiss my hand," you insisted. "Come on, do it, I have a point to prove."

You really need to learn how to calibrate these things. This one worked, though; she complied, sinking to her knees before you, a wild look in her eyes. Then she planted a surprisingly gentle kiss on your palm, leaving a crimson mark. 

"What the hell?" she whispered as she looked up at you. Raphael was engrossed in his paperwork, oblivious to the scene, so was Jens.

"See, Korilla," you started again after letting the moment hang awkwardly in the air for longer than necessary, "don't worry about Raphael talking nonsense. You'd be surprised how many people eat it up."

"Who the fuck is Raphael?"

"Your new boss," you said. "Well, old boss actually. Ahh... you won't really notice much of a difference; I hardly do myself sometimes," you lowered your voice to a minimum. "But don't tell them that, they'll get angry. You can get up now, this is getting a bit weird."

She tried to say something, her lips barely moving. You think it was 'how'. She was asking ‘how’.

"You see," you said. "The devil thinks I am very, very  special”.

Having said that, you came back to your seat. Raphael's tail immediately darted to your ankle and wrapped around it. You leaned back in your chair and watched Haarlep flirting with the pilot out of the corner of your eye.

It would be really stupid to crash because Haarlep wanted to have a quickie in the cockpit. The plane began its descent to Samedan St Moritz airport. The rugged Swiss Alps came into view out the window, snow-capped peaks glistening in the afternoon sun. 

***

When you book a presidential suite you no longer have to check in, you can just walk straight past the reception. The hotel was a mountain resort so exclusive that the website was just an artistic photo with no way to reserve a room. 

Raphael was eerily calm as he watched the staff unpack your belongings. His calm demeanour lasted until some poor sap nearly wrinkled his suit while trying to hang it in the en-suite cloakroom. A deafening growl sent the trembling fellow scuttling from the room.

The rest were given very generous tips.

Soon after, you found Raphael rehearsing his speech in a mirror, repeating the same phrases three times in a row, "when youth was told their souls were worthless, easily replicated by machines". Each time he spoke, there was a subtle change in tone, as if he was trying to capture some emotion - you were not quite sure what he was getting at - was he trying to imitate genuine concern? 

If so, he could work on his delivery.

He gave it another shot, the tension in his back muscles evident through his shirt.

"Excellent choice of attire, gattina," he gave you a look you approached. "Might I suggest an improvement? Not these trousers. The black pencil skirt with the white vertical stripes, the Saint Laurent one from the spring collection."

"It looks absurd on me," you looked away. "I don't have the body for it."

"You have the body for anything," he said. "Don't debate me on this. Slip into the skirt, return here and see how right I am”.

That damned skirt was a nightmare: so constricting that any wrong move felt like a tear waiting to happen; clearly designed by someone who either had never laid eyes on an actual woman or harbored a deep-seated resentment towards anyone the wrong size and proportion, which would be everyone. 

Yet somehow, you managed to wriggle yourself into it and made your way back to him.

"Now that's what I want to see," Raul smiled. "A beautiful woman and all mine."

"It's two sizes smaller than what I wear".

"Come closer, you silly creature, and grasp how breathtaking you are."

He tugged you towards the full-length mirror and swept your hair to one side so that you could take in your entire reflection.

Only it wasn’t yours.

When you played Sims and tweaked the controls to create the ideal you, you ended up with someone like this. Every trait similar to what you had, only better. A lot better. Smoother skin, better hair, smaller waist, perkier tits.

"They will see you through my eyes," Raphael said as his hands slid under your blouse and cupped your breasts. "These mortals will seethe with jealousy, envying me for having you and you for having me."

The woman in the mirror looked like someone Raphael would choose to be his consort. The skirt looked perfect, as it was tailor made just for you. 

"That’s not me," you said, mesmerized by the eerie reflection.

"Nonsense. You didn't know who you truly were until you met me," he whispered in your ear. "If it's not you I'm putting my arms around, why would you feel them?"

You felt his palms squeeze your breasts and roll your nipples between his fingers. His lips brush your neck. His growing bulge against your backside.

"Now would you be so kind?.." he asked. 

You could swear the woman in the mirror was bending over before you did, eagerly offering herself, sliding her panties down to her knees and placing her palms on either side of the mirror for leverage. His hands kneaded your buttocks, spreading you apart as his erection pressed against your entrance.

Foreplay wasn't on his agenda, you realized with a shiver. True enough, he penetrated you with a single thrust. First sharp pain, then the very familiar pleasure, liquid and pitch black and all-consuming.

"Look," he said. "Look at yourself. Look at me. Marvel at what you see."

The woman in the mirror moaned in response, pleasure etched on her face as the devil behind her ravaged. Her features twisted and blurred in ever-changing motion, skin wobbling like waves of water; she was shifting between all the women you ever dreamed of being - one moment Tav, then Christine, then Sarah Williams.

"It's not real," you moaned. 

His eyes remained fixed on the mirror the whole time he fucked you. You arched backwards into him, grinding against him with each thrust, skin slapping against skin.

"There is no reality," he whispered back. "Other than what you see in that mirror”.

His thrusts came harder now, jolting you against the cold glass. The woman in the mirror seemed to have gone insane from how well she was being fucked, her face twisted in a barely human grimace of bliss.

"Climax," he commanded with a snap of his fingers.

You saw the woman in the mirror go limp in his arms, a look of absent bliss on her face, and then remember that the woman was you. A jagged sound ripped from you. Your body responded to the command like a dog thrown a biscuit; your cunt tightened around his cock once.

Twice. 

The woman in the mirror morphed again; now it’s someone you’d seen a thousand times, the weird pale girl nobody ever gave a second look. 

You. 

Thrice.

The mirror you were propped against shattered - spectacularly so, its razor-sharp fragments raining down like confetti.

"Hang on," you managed to gurgle out in sheer terror as you tumbled, losing your balance. "Raphael, hold on..."

He didn't. Instead, he let gravity take over and you fell face-first into the broken mirror below, his weight following right after. Your scream of pleasure morphed into a wail of agony as countless tiny shards opened up on your skin; mutilating, cutting, obliterating. 

oh god it hurts 

Raphael groaned as he drove you deeper and deeper into the jagged fragments, your writhing and screaming doing nothing to deter him. The shards under your skin thrust in and out with each thrust, piercing right through you, through your face.

oh god it hurts; pulsated the single thought. The pain was nothing like you had felt before; it was the clearest sensation your clouded mind had ever processed.

A growing pool of blood spread like spilled wine on the white marble tiles beneath you. You closed your eyes tightly, but that didn't make the blood disappear. You blinked them open again... then closed them... 

Blood was still there. Raphael thrust once, so hard there wasn’t a single shard left that didn’t hurt you. 

Twice.

Three times, and he came inside you, spitting curses in Italian between ragged breaths. 

The pain suddenly vanished as if snapped away by his fingers; but its ghostly memory kept your tears flowing.

"I swear to God, kitten" Raul murmured as he rolled off you, "the way you're screaming would make anyone think I'm murdering you."

You opened your eyes and stared at the perfectly white tiles.

No blood.

No shards. No cuts. No pain.

Nothing. You looked up in the mirror: the Gorgeous Version of You looked back. You looked down on yourself. 

Exactly how you always wanted to be. 

You laughed in blissful abandon. Then, you rolled onto your back, catching sight of Raul's gobsmacked expression which made you laugh even harder.

read the rest on ao3

[kaylaz-world-00]

Scenerio: You and Bullfrog go on separate missions without informing each other, you both secretly attend the same party, switch clothes, and try to blend in so you can kill the same guy. Until you both finally noticed the other.

A/n: I couldn’t help myself. This idea stuck to me for a few days now. I was planing to write more but yeah… I am leaving this like this to you guys.

Hehehe, Jelly Bullfrog~

Masterlist

Warnings: curses, alcohol, mention of killing of course, might be a bit suggestive :/ (this is a bit more lean to female reader so... heads up?)

Words: 1.6k

Taglist: @blorbostation @eateableworm @livelaughluvvfaithyy @darkchanx @astoraa @shiroisotto64 @kalemwoof @sleepyscribe @oneofthesillies @lpsyumy-chan

Everyone is welcome in the tag list

Dear anons; I would really appreciate it if you could choose an emoji while sending your asks and requests (and stick with it) so I can tell you apart. Thank you~

Bullfrog adjusted his tuxedo in front of the mirror. Why did he enter the party like this? He could find a way in and take advantage of a good moment. But there was too much risk.  Someone might notice. And this man was better protected than he thought. He would have to look out for a moment when he was alone at this party. It was his only chance. His own home was much more sheltered. The only way was to join this party is like this. Of course, since he didn't have an invitation, he would enter this way. It made him feel a little lucky to have hybrids around... as waiters? Eh, not much of his liking but his own comfort was out of the question right now, he had to use what worked for him. He took a deep breath and placed the mask on his face. When he thought he looked decent, he came out of the restroom. He looked around carefully with the tray under his arm and left when he didn't see anyone. Okay, act normal. You are a waiter. You are a waiter. This is not a normal party either, of course it isn’t, he needs to look quite formal here.

The music getting louder and louder proved that he is going to the right place. He carefully adjusted the wrist of his right wrist, when he felt the sharp object a soft smile appeared on his lips, confirmed that it was still there, and continued forward. It was starting to get crowded around him. His eyes were carefully searching for his target.

When he finally saw him, he changed his path but stopped immediately. The waiters around him were distributing drinks. Those whose trays were empty went to get new ones. It would be very strange if he walked around empty handed like this. He immediately followed someone and went to get a few drinks on his tray himself. After a short while, he returned with a few glasses of drink. When he saw his target again, he moved towards him.

"Hey, you. Get me a bottle of red wine now."

He paused and turned towards the voice.

"What are you staring at? Go and get me one!"

"Of course, sir." He muttered and scoffed when he turned his back on him. He sighed this is gonna take longer then he liked.

────────────────────

You laughed along with him at his jokes and sighed, "Oh, dear. I don't even remember laughing this much in my entire life!" You laid your head on his shoulder with the sweetest smile you could muster.

He wrapped his arm around you with vodka in his other hand, "Your smile is like a revelation to my ears. Let jokes be your slave, babe. As long as you ask, I will play all my cards on you from morning to evening." You muster everything in you to not roll your eyes at this.

Finally you were waiting for this moment, he was drunk too. Perfect moment. You used your most seductive look and voice, slowly turning to him and took your mask off, "Oh, really? I would love to hear more about those..." you traveled your hand on his chest and leaned to his face, "cards you can pull." You breathe out.

He bit his lip, definitely getting excited, "If so... let's get inside my room so I can show you all my tricks~" You can't believe how easy this was.

You grinned happily, you were nearly at the point of sitting on his lap. God, finally!

"Yes!" You acted giddily, bouncing on his legs as he grunted hungrily, holding your thighs tightly.

He smirked, "Mm, slow down a bit, dear. I want to order one more drink then I am all yours."

He put his finished glass down on the table, stealing a kiss from your neck.

You playfully sighed, "Mm, be quick. I can't wait for you~”

"Of course." He egoisticly responded.

He made a hand movement to one of the waiters nearby, not getting a response caused him to scoff, "Newbies." You heard him mutter. You laid your head on his chest to ease him up.

You notice him relax and speak up, the waiter must finally understand and approach like he asked. "Get me another vodka. The strongest we have. You want something sweetheart?" He softly muttered to you.

You hummed and gently sat up, thinking of an excuse, "No, thank you, I think I am good. The only thing that gets me drunk tonight can be you, honey~" You flirted, your eyes landing on the waiter that in front of you, the smile on your lips dulled. His honey colored eyes glaring deep into the man holding you.

The Fuck He Is Doing Here?!!

The man's cocky laugh seemed to be deafen to your eyes as his arms tighten around you. Bullfrog's eyes gazed over you only for a second. You knew him more than anyone. And you know for a fact that he was holding so much back from just killing him at that second. And throwing so many questions at you. He knew you were an agent. But you never told him you choose to lure your prey like this.

Getting inside a party as a waitress to kill his target? That's not much of his still either. Is he here to kill the same guy? Seems highly possible. You quickly cleared your head. You can talk to him about this later. Just finish your job first.

"Alright, bring me a vodka then we can go to my room."

You give one last glance at Bullfrog as your eyes meet. You both stared as if communicating through it. He sighed, hesitated and walked back. You smiled up at the man.

"Yes." You gently caressed his chest. "Will you excuse me a bit, please? I need to freshen up my makeup a bit for the night. Wait for me here, don't leave anywhere~"

He groaned and held you tighter, "Come on you are already good like this. Don't leave me now~"

You gently push him away, "Ah, come on. It won't take long. We are already going to your room after this~"

He finally accepted and let you go. You get up from his lap and send a kiss. You turned around and walked away. What an idiot.

Now, where is Bullfrog?

Before you can even start to search someone pulled you inside a restroom. You quickly get out of their grip but halted before you can start fighting.

"Oh god damn it. You scared the shit outta me." You heaved a sigh.

He quickly took his mask off, "What are you doing here with that guy?"

You scoffed, "Isn't it obvious? I am here to kill him."

He took a deep breath, "Yes, of course." He sighed, "A heads up would be nice..."

"No, you are right. Sorry about that..."

You muttered after a bit of silence, "So... we are here to kill the same guy?"

"Pretty much."

You smiled at him, "I already got him under my finger. It's easy to convince him to let you in also. Wanna kill him together?"

He breathed out a sarcastic laugh, "Yeah I can see that... there is nothing for me to do here it seems! S'il te plaît. Go and do your job, my job, madame. Freshen your pretty makeup and please go onward." He bowed. Something ached in your heart to see him like this. He was definitely upset. Maybe more than upset.

You sighed, "Come on, don't be like that.” You gently caressed his cheek, “I already said sorry. You know that I love you and only you, right? So, stop worrying. We don't have much time. Tell me, are you gonna follow along or not?"

He sighed, he is not gonna act childish about this, "Let's get this over with."

You gently grabbed his mask from his hand and placed it back on his face, you bit your lip, as he pressed his cheek to your warm hand, enjoying the kind touch, "Is anyone told you that you look so good in a suit." You gently fixed his tie.

He chuckled, "I heard lots of stuff today. But you are the first." He glanced up at you with a smirk.

You pulled him in by his tie, he didn't resist as you both leaned in for a hot kiss.

You break the kiss pressing your head to his, "... I am sorry. I should have told you everything. Will you be able to forgive me?"

"Je fais but only in one condition, I want to kill him myself." He smirked.

"I thought you weren't the revenge type of guy?" You laughed.

"I am not. I'm just doing my job."

You smiled, "I would like to watch you kill that asshole. Please go ahead. But first lemme freshen my makeup and you should go ahead and pick a drink." You walked towards the mirror with your bag.

He grumbled over the door, "Poisoning that guy would feel really good right now. It would be much easier too." He pouted.

"Too bad you don't have poison then." You smirked while doing your makeup.

"Why do I feel like you have one?" He raised a brow, smiling.

"Not at the moment." You informed with a smile, "Maybe for our next target~"

He laughed, "This never happened before. We both having the same target?" He hummed, "I hope we encounter this much more, I like it. Though a heads up from both sides next time?"

"Sounds good. We shall inform each other more often."

He chuckled and opened the door, "Bonne soirée, mademoiselle." And left you smiling.

[ofallthingsnasty]

Urrrgg im such a wuss about physical pain but something about punctured wounds specifically makes me scared more than cuts or bruises. I think it’s something about the “intrusion” that a sharp object does when it stabs you that it doesn’t do when merely cutting you

Suffice to say Crocodile even threatening to give me a “piercing” will scare me into submission. Suddenly I’m throwing out my escape plans because I do not want to be hurt like that 😓 Sir you can spank me however you want but PLS don’t put that hook anywhere near my face

oh goodness anon, you're way too cute 😭💕 he would never ever hurt you because i say so.... but this also made me think...

tw. yandere, violence, a little over-the-top gore (facial), references this post

Now that you mention it - there are two ways he could harm you with his hook in that specific scenario, one more planned and one more impulsive. (To pierce your tongue, he’d need a forceps or at the very least a very steady hand or else he’s going not only cut into your tongue but the floor of your mouth as well - which could lead to severe bleeding and neurological damage, oh my. Your cheeks are a different story - he might still injure a tiny branch of the facial nerve but you’re not going to lose some motor functions.) 

But to be honest - if he does this to you, it’s going to be entirely impulsive because he’d have to be exceptionally mad. Angry beyond belief or reason, so precision and thought aren’t going to be present. (Even if I really want him to get my tongue, ugh 😔) He isn’t even going to threaten it, he’ll just launch forward like a man possessed and puncture your cheek, force his hook through the fat of your face until he hits your teeth, just lashing out, just senselessly hurting you to shut you and your horrid mouth up.  And god help you if you react on instinct and pull away, because that is going to net you an open cheek and a nasty scar.

Will he feel guilty just moments later, as rare as that emotion is for him? Yes. Will it stop your incessant  babbling and shock you into submission? Also yes. Like you said, I can only see this happening once, maybe twice? You’d have to do something so outrageous and disrespectful and keep at it to get this rather calm man to that point - but it’s achievable and a serious escape attempt could do it.  But you being feisty plays a big part in this - because if you aren’t (if you grovel and cry and beg for forgiveness, kiss his feet to soothe that anger, worship him like you’re supposed to), he won’t end up that mad. You’re still going to regret it, no doubt, but he has this pesky little soft spot for you that, if pressed, can mellow him out rather quickly. It really depends on you and your actions.

But if it happens? If the meat of your right cheek suddenly loses tension and flaps around because his hook is too big to control and you instinctively pulled back, away from the pain, the hurt? All that anger is going to evaporate in an instant. He just needs to see your stunned face, pain barely registering because of the adrenaline that is running through you, just needs to see all that exposed fat and muscle to immediately regret it. It’s a grotesque sight; yellow, pink, stark red mixing as your teeth gnash in horror and your thoughts are going a mile a minute trying to register what just happened. Of course, he wastes no time and takes you in for the best care he can find in that moment, intent on keeping both the functional and aesthetic damage to a minimum - but his hook is big and brutish and the wound leaves you with a gnarly scar, no matter how skilled the hands of your surgeon are.

When it’s all said and done, he’ll still feel that little pang of guilt from time to time when he traces the scar with his thumb - but it’s more that feeling of regret a little boy gets when he scratches up a brand new toy, that disappointment that it isn’t shiny and new anymore and not genuine remorse because he inflicted so much pain on you. He can’t feel bad about it for too long when he remembers that you see what disobedience gets you every time you look into the mirror. It might have marred your looks - but it has made you so wonderfully pliant as well, has earned him your respect. 

[mirikitakato]

[Translation] Shylock Initial SSR Card Story: Sweet Honey Mixed with Wine

I'm surprised this card hasn't been translated. I guess it's interesting to look back at the characters when the story just started years ago, considering the coming anime!

Characters: Shylock, Murr, Chloe, Akira

P/s: My main objective for now is to translate Shylock's cards, but sometimes Murr's cards if I have them. I would love translating Owen's cards for sure, but his card stories' motif tend to be the same so I hardly find them interesting to translate.

Card Story: Sweet Honey Mixed with Wine

Episode 1

Akira: Hm? The two people coming over there are...

Murr: Ah, Sage!

Chloe: Good evening, Sage.

Akira: Good evening, Murr, Chloe. Where’re you going?

Chloe: Murr and I are going to play poker. We're heading to the lounge now.

Murr: What about ya, Sage? Join us for some fun!

Akira: Is it okay if I do? I don't want to be a bother.

Murr: Not at all! Don't worry about it!

Chloe: Yeah, come on, Sage! It's more fun with more people!

Akira: Haha. Well, since it's getting late, I'll just join you for a little while.

[In the lounge]

Murr: Yay, I won!

Chloe: Eh!? Murr again!? How many times has this happened?

Akira: Uhm... Pretty sure it has been...

Murr: 12 consecutive wins!

Chloe: T-t-twelve!? That many? Maybe we're just bad at poker...

Akira: Hmm...It's not that we're weak...

Chloe:...It's just that Murr is too strong... Even by chance, could he really keep winning like this? ...Maybe he's a cheater*...?

Murr: Cheetah? Who's a cheetah? What do you mean?

Akira: Well, I guess he acts like a cat…so calling him a cheetah is not wrong?

Chloe: Wait, what do you mean by that?

Shylock: I couldn't help but notice some lively conversation. Would you mind terribly sharing what brings such joy at this hour?

Chloe: Oh...Shylock! What perfect timing!

Shylock: Oh, what a warm welcome. What's the matter?

Chloe: Actually, we're playing poker, and I can't seem to win against Murr at all...

Shylock: —I see. So, you think Murr is cheating somehow.

Chloe: Uhm... It's just that he's so good...

Shylock: Murr's usual behavior is quite erratic, so it's understandable that you would think that... But for the sake of his honor, let's make this clear. He's not cheating. He's simply very good.

Murr: Hey, so who's this cheetah anyway?

Shylock:...Even though he's a bit quirky, he's a genius when it comes to games. Not just cards, but chess too. To beat him, you'll need natural talent, a sharp mind, and extraordinary effort. He's that formidable of an opponent.

Chloe: I see... He really is that strong... Sorry for doubting you, Murr.

Murr: Yay! I got a compliment!

Chloe: ...So that means I'll never beat Murr, will I...?

Akira: But even if you can't win, it was a lot of fun. Playing with you guys.

Chloe: Sage...!

Murr: Hey, Shylock, why don't you join us too!

Shylock: ...You still haven't learned to read the room, have you, Murr? I'll pass this time. It's getting late.

Murr: Aw! Why? ...Oh, I see! You're scared to lose to me!

Shylock: Hoh?

Chloe: Wait... Did Shylock's face just tick there for a second?

Akira: Uhm, the room temperature also suddenly dropped...

Shylock: ...You're quite the eloquent speaker, Murr. If you're asking for punishment, I'll be happy to oblige…

*Note: The Japanese word for cheating is ikasama, but Murr heard it as ika-sama, which means Sir Squid, lol. That’s why he keeps asking who is ika-sama. Akira also continues it by saying “if he is a squid, then he is not human, so it makes sense he is good.” (no Akira you are not making any sense). Everything confuses poor Chloe. I just change the joke to something easier to understand.

Episode 2

Akira: I'm so sorry for having you walk me to my room. Thank you.

Shylock: No problem at all. I was in the mood for conversation rather than talking to myself. Speaking of which, you're quite the night owl, aren't you, Sage? I'm sure you would have kept going if I hadn't called it a night.

Akira:….Uhm, yes. I got a little carried away.

Shylock: Murr and Chloe are wizards, they can handle a little sleep deprivation. You, on the other hand, are a delicate human being.

Akira: …Y-yes. I'll be careful. (...In the end, Shylock didn't take up Murr's offer.) (Was he just trying to get me to leave, or was it like Murr said…?)

Shylock: Sage, will you be able to sleep well tonight?

Akira: Oh, um. I'd like to say yes, but I'm still a bit wired from the poker game earlier. I might have trouble sleeping.

Shylock: Fufu. Very honest of you. As a reward, I'll give you some medicine to help you sleep well. ...But only if you allow me to make a little detour.

[Shylock's room]

Shylock: Please, don't be shy. Make yourself at home.

Akira: Sorry for the intrusion... (In the end, I followed him as I was told, but...) (What could the sleeping medicine be? Hopefully not something too bitter...)

Shylock: ...Fufu, you look uneasy. Are you perhaps feeling nervous?

Akira: Eh...?

Shylock: A helpless, lost fawn...That's how you appear to me. You are truly innocent. …I'm in trouble now. When you make such an adorable face, I want to teach you.

Akira: Eh…teach me what...?

Shylock: ...Dangerous, risqué, and licentious love...things most wouldn't dare teach. What do you say, Sage? Aren't you tempted to learn?

Episode 3

Akira: ..........Um, no, I...

Shylock: Fufu. Such a charming person. Please wait here for a moment. And don't try to run away.

Akira: (.........He finally let go of me. Even if he was just teasing me, it was bad for my heart...)

Shylock: I kept you waiting. Here you go.

Akira: It smells sweet and nice…. Is this...wine?

Shylock: It's mulled wine. It looks like red wine, but it has almost no alcohol. Since it tastes good, I think you'll find it easy to drink.

Akira: Thank you. Oh, are you drinking the same thing, Shylock? But isn’t this non-alcoholic?

Shylock: Yes. I usually wrap myself in a blanket of intoxication and fall asleep at night...But tonight, you will be my companion. So, I'll skip the alcohol. Now, cheers.

Akira: (...Wow, his mannerisms are so sexy…) (He looks like a painting just by drinking wine…)

Shylock: What's the matter? The aroma is good, but you can't taste it without using your tongue.

Akira: Y-yes! I'll have some. Delicious!

Shylock: I’m glad it seems to suit your taste.

Akira: It's really easy to drink. It's so mellow. (Is it because of the wine? My body is gradually getting warmer…)

Shylock: Are you getting sleepy? Fufu. Your eyes are a little hazy...

Akira: Thanks to you, it seems to be working well. (Shylock's voice is so gentle…The tense atmosphere between him and Murr earlier now seems like a lie) Um...Shylock, you are close with Murr, right?

Shylock: Of course, we’re friends.

Akira: (I see…I'm relieved...)

Shylock: However, I also hate him and find him lovingly detestable. After all, he's a bad boy.

Akira: I-is he…

Shylock: Yes, very much so.

Akira: ....

Shylock: Sage, your hand has stopped. I still have more refills, so please enjoy them to your heart's content.

Akira: ….T-thanks. (I guess I shouldn't ask too much about this topic.)

Card Episode: The Engraved One

Akira: The chosen wizard crest is on your left chest, right?

Shylock: Yes. Would you like to see it again? If you wish, Sage, I can open my collar right away.

Akira: No, no! That's fine. (I feel like he's sexually harassing me...) When you're chosen as a Sage’s wizard, the crest appears, right? Were you surprised at first, Shylock?

Shylock: Yes, I was. I had heard stories about the chosen wizards and their crests, but…When the crest appeared on my body, I was disgusted.

Akira: Disgusted... As expected, it was a role you didn't want to be chosen for…

Shylock: No. It's not the role, but the crest. Isn't it unpleasant to have a crest that you don't even like appear on your body without your permission?

Akira: Ah! So that’s why…

Shylock: I liked my body, so I wasn't happy for a while. But over time, I accepted it, and eventually, it became my favorite. Isn't it sexy to have a crest over your heart?

Akira: It’s sexy…

Shylock: Would you like to see it again then?

Akira: N-no! Thanks!

Shylock: Fufu, how cute.

---- Home-screen line ----

“Even the best performance of madness pales in comparison to the real thing, don’t you think?”

[zehglitch]

The Fallen Angel

Ezephr's Backstory

— 1

Content Warnings: Human experimentation, child experimentation, kidnapping, violence, toying with people, mentions of death, mentioned abuse/starvation, mentions of children killing each other, dehumanization

Chapter 1 — The Lab

Computers beeped, vast containers full of strange liquid bubbled, and people scribbled notes. These were the only sounds taking up the research facility, the head doctor there to receive their new supplies. The firm, confident steps of the doctor created a new sound that echoed around the room, all eyes turning to him. His sharp eyes studied the line of ‘products’ they'd just finished gathering. Children. Most were babies hardly old enough to go without their mother’s milk, the majority seeming to be human. He frowned with his distaste of their samples and his eyes skipped to the others. “Humans? You couldn't get us a single dragon? Or even a demon?”

The cloaked team that had stolen the children away stared in silence, knowing better than to speak. Only a single one of them stepped forward. “Sir, we collected as many as we could from each continent. We found an elf child, as well as an angel. That is why--” The man was cut off when the doctor raised a hand for silence.

He quirked a brow. “An angel? Are you certain the parents are nowhere to be found? The last thing we need is a flock.” He wandered down the line again until he found the young angel. Brightly colored hair and the purest wings…it was perfect.

The man bowed. “It was discovered with a single angel present, a woman. They seemed to be fleeing from somewhere.”

“And the woman?”

“She has been disposed of, sir.” Silence fell upon the room, and yet the doctor grinned, reaching out and lightly touching the baby in front of him.

His smile was dark. “Well done. But not good enough. A single gold star among stones is far from the quality of many raw diamonds. The addition of the elf aside from the angel is the only reason you still have your heart.” He sent a glare their way before lightly tapping the edge of the basket. “Now then, transport the items to the nursery. Do we have a nursemaid available? Perhaps one that we can keep away from sharp objects, this time?” He scowled at his staff, watching the cowards flinch away from him with an air of satisfaction.

The cloaked group began to collect the children and followed the guidance of the other doctors and staff. “We do have a girl, sir.” One of the men who had been silent approached the doctor, dropping onto his knee. “There was a young wolf critter that saw us. We judged her wolf nature would assist in taking care of many children at once, we apologize for making a decision without prior approval.”

This made the doctor hum, then immediately strike the man, watching as just his head moved. “Making your own decision deserves punishment, but your judgement was correct. This time. Take her to the room, be certain there are enough supplies. Oh, and, go back out. Scout for the possible targets we can claim in five years.” In five years, these children would graduate from the nursery and move on to the next stage. He wasn't all that pleased with the quality this year, but it was better than not getting enough. The doctor had to pause to look at the number of children. Around twenty…and only two were useful. Despicable.

He turned away, heading to the monitors and studying the data of their current children. “Is there a test subject worth acknowledging?” From the way they all looked away, he doubted it. A frown etched his brow and he sighed, fixing his lab coat. “Very well. I suppose the one I had my eye on has also hit a lull. How disappointing.” He didn't miss how the researchers he hired shivered in unison. Rather, he found a sort of twisted pleasure in having so much sway over someone.

The doctor was a smug man at times, but that wasn't the biggest problem with him. A brilliant man that discovered a way to interfere with magiveins to create new magic and reinforce one’s physical strength. Except he experimented solely on sentient beings, never with animals. He called it animal cruelty while displaying a twisted grin and ordering children be captured instead. The man could be violent every now and then, but most of his energy went into studying his test subjects and determining if the method worked.

Then there was the pit. A child that disappointed him fighting against one he has hopes for? That man reveled in the activity. Currently, he had his eyes on the infant angel, drawing his attention away from the wraith that had begun to show promise. The wraith wasn’t improving anymore, so he no longer cared. He was watching his cloaked men transfer the products to the new room, debating if he should get involved this time as well. The test subject seemed to respond positively if they believed there was a familial relationship…perhaps he should indulge in a game.

☾︎☀︎︎☽︎

This batch of children proved to be both promising and worthless at the same time. The female critter was at least useful. Being of the canis lupus family made her capable of managing so many of them, even providing the bonus she wouldn't resort to suicide. Wolves take care of their pack after all. He was pleased with this, but the best result so far was the angel. The boy, X1, had a knack for healing incantations and he was hardly three years old--not to mention they had never taught these children spells. It was fascinating.

The elf, X4, often huddled in a corner as far from him as possible when he visited to play father. She would always have such a wide eyed stare, as if she already knew his true nature and intentions. Nothing he did convinced her he was friendly…intelligence. That was a bonus and better than the angel. So far the angel had suspicious glances, but would always move on like nothing had happened. Foolish. A habit that would become a weakness to exploit by others…it wasn't perfected yet. He had to create the perfect being.

Or else there was no reason to have targeted the dragons.

☾︎☀︎︎☽︎

No difference. The children were about to turn five and they still behaved in the same manner. Perhaps a wolf wasn't the best suited after all, she kept them too protected. No matter…they were always moved after turning five. His attention left this batch quickly with the lack of improvement, turning back to the wraith. The child was almost ten and had attacked one of the demon children in a brawl over food. They won. He was impressed, though a bit dissatisfied. Why was the demon still alive? They had to go for the kill.

He sat behind the one way glass, observing all rooms at once using the nearby camera monitors. Wrong. All of it was wrong, wrong, wrong, WRONG! The doctor tapped the table, leaning forward and resting his chin in his hand with a rather deep scowl. None of them were satisfactory. He may need to start putting them in the pit again…he had no need for the ones that lose anyway. That demon was useless to him now, no other way to put it. And yet that ridiculous wraith wouldn't kill! He growled to himself and studied the caged areas.

The children were moved to cages often when they weren't good enough for his goal. He had some that were almost adults…if they didn't show results soon, he may need to put them down. That or he could add them to his cloaked men…their gender and race be forgotten, they would simply live to obey him and gather him new subjects. At least that way they actually had a use. The man watched all of them for many hours and still came up with no answer. Very well. He would simply force a result…extreme duress could trigger a response.

Decidedly content with that idea, he searched for someone to apply it to. His eyes landed on the new batch of five year olds. They were used to the comfortable environment of that plain white room, and he never failed to notice that the elf and angel both began to behave differently if he wasn't present in the room. This group…they were young enough to have potential. All he had to do is move them to cages immediately rather than the larger room. Perfect. His grin didn't reach his eyes in the semi-dark room. His plan was set.

☾︎☀︎︎☽︎

It was difficult for the boy, pretending to not notice the creeping chill down his spine whenever ‘father’ came home. The only name he knew was X1, like the strange mark on the back of his neck. ‘Mother’ always fussed over those marks, and he knew he had one too. Why would his siblings have it, and not him? He was always extra careful to keep his wings close to himself so his brothers and sisters wouldn't hurt them again, but it didn't always work. X1 really liked his sister, X4. She was so nice to his wings and mother said she was older too. He liked having a big sister.

X1 was sitting on one of the three couches, watching his siblings play with the soft, harmless toys they were provided. He was ready to help if someone tripped again, but he was otherwise left out when others played. All they wanted to do was play with his wings and got upset if he said no. It…also felt like he thought differently than they did. His siblings were loud, messy, and went wild when father visited. Father…he didn’t like father. Father looked at them funny, it didn't feel the same as how mother did. He wasn't sure why he knew that.

He shifted, wrapping his wings around his body and sighing in thought. This was boring. Movement drew his attention and he watched his mother as she sat beside him. She was smiling. X1 just stared at her when she ruffled his hair, loosening his wings somewhat. “Well? Are you just going to watch them again today?” Idly, he wondered why his mother looked so different from them. She was covered in fur and her face was shaped different…she had a tail and funny ears too. He leaned into her touch anyway, looking around for X4.

“Mother? Why are we different?” Her hand froze momentarily before sliding again as she tried to come up with an answer.

She tilted her head curiously. “I don't think we are? We're the same.” She lightly poked his nose. “We both have a nose.” She waved her finger in front of his eyes, “We both have eyes.” Then she smiled and her hand slipped down his head to his neck, lightly tickling him. He immediately made a strangled noise and squirmed, laughing with a grin--albeit quietly. “We’re both ticklish.” She kept going until he started batting at her and other kids wanted attention too.

He slipped away when they got crowded, flapping his wings awkwardly as he stumbled. X1 had never learned how to fly yet, though his wings were still a bit too soft to fly with. He watched his mother get swarmed, tucking his wings closer to himself at the sight. That would be unpleasant to be in. A hand touched his shoulder and his wings snapped right back out with a yelp. He spun around with wide eyes to see X4 smiling at him. She didn't speak, but she did reach over and poke his nose with one of her characteristic grins.

He blinked, then tried to return a smile, shuffling his wings to keep them safe, wary of the crowd of children nearby. “Hey…” She lightly grabbed his arm, an action she’d done many times before, pulling him away to her usual corner. His wings fluttered when she yanked him to sit down with her, plopping down a tad roughly before crossing his legs. X4 gave him a questioning look and he immediately avoided her gaze. “I'm fine.” Her pointed look definitely doubted him. “It’s just…why are we here? Different? Why does father feel so scary?”

He looked at his hands, then the floor, lost in thought. Her frail hand entered his vision, tapping the floor for his attention before reaching up and setting it on his head. She was always so quiet. As far as X1 had seen, she rarely said anything. She communicated with her eyes and hand gestures. He’d heard his name once or twice from her, but he didn't really need her to speak. All he knew, is that when she gave him her gentle, calming smile, he felt safe. Mother had the same smile, but she only gave it when father visited. He didn't like that.

He hadn't moved, so of course, X4 chose to bend down and look up at him with a pout. X1 flinched back, then smiled. “I’m okay, I promise.” His worrying didn’t do them any good, their home was happy and he only had to help anyone if they fell wrong. He felt her start ruffling his hair and he closed his eyes, shuffling over so lean against his sister. She continued to pet his head, but her hand eventually slipped down to brush through his white feathers. He flexed his wings, but otherwise leaned into the contact happily.

The two of them sat there in a comfortable silence, leaving the wild crowd of their siblings as a fading noise in the background. Even though none of them knew how little they had, or how strange their life was, they felt like this was perfect. They were never hungry, they had toys and friends to play with, a family, and safety. Their mother was playing with the other children, and they both knew that, but neither wanted to move. Why would they? X1 fully relaxed against his older sister, trusting her to protect his delicate wings as he drifted off.

☾︎☀︎︎☽︎

His peace didn't last long. The last thing he knew, he'd been cuddled with his sister, the next he was being woken up by a rough voice and someone clinging to him. What he saw when opening his eyes made him freeze up, stealing his voice while filling him with a new kind of confusion. There were people in dark clothes, their faces hidden, pulling his siblings out of the room without a word. The children were shouting and screaming, his mother was pinned and had something around her mouth. Why was she making a sound he'd never heard before?

The most shocking part was how his gentle sister grabbed his head and shoved it against her chest, pinning him and trying to block his vision. Her voice came out weakly, even holding a strange note as if the language was new to her, “No…X1…” Why was she shaking? Then he finally registered pressure around his wings, causing him to automatically try and pull them free. Pain bloomed through his wings and down his spine, drawing a muffled scream out of him. What happened? Where was he? Why were these people here?

His sister only held him tighter when he tried to squirm free--he wanted to see what was wrong with his wings, but she wasn't letting him. He attempted pushing her away, but before he could, big hands grabbed him and the two were pulled apart harshly. Despite being desperate to look behind him at his wings moments before, his eyes were glued to the tearful face of his favorite sister, watching her resist the strange person even when she was put over their shoulder. He reached a hand towards her, their fingers brushing, but never close enough.

It was too late, as they were fully separated, his wings not moving, and everyone being taken. X1 struggled only briefly, then just went limp when all his movements only caused pain to flare down his back. They were walking somewhere, the walls strangely silver and very long, but the only sounds were these people’s steps and the crying of children. Eventually, he chanced moving calmly to see if he was allowed to look at his wings…and they didn’t stop him. Finding that out, he followed through with it and spared a glance.

His wings were bound by something, a rope stretching across them in just the right way that he couldn't feel it unless he tried to move them. That was better than what he thought happened, actually. As some calm settled over him, he began to process what was going on, observing his surroundings. Alright. So for some reason, all of them were being moved and their mother was still at home. Where was father? Did he do this? Probably. The young angel readjusted in the uncomfortable grip and stared at his crying sister worriedly. What now?

They group walked for a while, stopping when they reached a strange area that nearly made his feathers poof. It smelled weird, as if water went bad here…he didn't know the correct words for it. There were others here, however all of them were older than him and his siblings. Where were they? He stiffed when the dark clothed people began to toss his siblings into these things, separating everyone by a certain number in each one. He kept track of X4 closely, but stayed quiet and obedient. They only got hurt if they resisted anyway.

He yelped when he was finally thrown into one, tumbling over the rough ground and feeling his skin tear from the impact. When it finally stopped he curled into himself, but made no sound. He simply bit his lip, lay there for a minute as he waited for the strange people to leave, and listened. Everyone was getting hurt…he could feel it. They were taken from their home and their mother, but why? Maybe this was why he never felt happy when father was home, he might have done this. Worse, he was pretty sure they weren't going to free his wings.

Finally, their steps faded and it was replaced by the sounds of laughter from their new rough reality. He pushed himself up and began to use healing magic on his own wounds before truly looking around. Already, he could see those older kids messing with his siblings, the other ones visible from his own even though he couldn't possibly reach them. In his, there were…two of the other noisy siblings, and his sister. He stiffened when he realized she wasn't moving, scrambling to get to her and ignoring the older kids that were already messing with the others.

He touched her hesitantly, shaking her while activating his magic. “X4! O-open your eyes!” He was scared, his wings were cramping, and she wasn't responding. At the same time, he could see she was breathing and hear the laughter nearby over his actions. Ignoring all of them, he tried sitting beside her, lifting half her body so he could hold her safely. She was heavy to him, but he didn't even care. He just wanted to keep her away from the weird people in here with them--she didn’t deserve this. Her wounds were healing, but they were still trapped.

—

Masterpost

Backstory Master

Next Chapter

[bapydemonprincess]

Imagine Grelle briefly popping in at the manor around the Book of Murder arc because of the weird wombo combo of deaths listed for that night and... wait... INCLUDING SEBASTIAN MICHAELIS??

And when she arrives she comes face to face with some charming older man named Jeremy who meets her in the rain as if he heard she was coming, and he smiles amiably with a twinkle in those eyes and tells her.

"Fear not, madam. I have it on good authority that the tangles and twists going on under this mansion roof will work themselves out post haste."

And Grelle tries to come off as unbothered, waving him off.

"Ooh, I'm sure they will, good sir. I'm sure they will. This isn't my first dive into the doom and gloom of Phantomhive Manor.."

"Then whatever could have brought you out here, then, might I ask. Surely with that fine lovely suit you're wearing, you are a busy lady, I imagine."

"W-Well, yes, normally.." Grelle cannot believe this. This classy gent is taking her for a turn! Even if... unintentionally. Almost as if it comes naturally...

"However there's a man that works in the service under the Earl here, and I... erm.. fancy him you could say, hehee.."

DID YOU JUST GIGGLE GRELLE, LIKE A LITTLE GIRL???

"Ahh," Mr. Rathbone responds... Pauses as if in thought; as if caught off guard, and then.. his visage seems to turn solemn, eyes closing, head bowing.

"This man wouldn't happen to possibly be the head butler, would he?"

Grelle flounders and merely hums her ascent, nodding. She cannot, for the death of her, get over her own current state!

"Hmph, well, I'm afraid I must inform you that.. that very man has perished this evening. After a surprise attack last night on his evening patrol, while he was stoking one of the fireplaces."

"THAT-" Grelle shouts outright at first, looking absolutely scandalized by this news, finger pointing accusingly at the Vicar.

"That... that isn't true." She goes on, voice lower, shakier, but still firm.

The man still has his eyes closed. Not budging nor flinching an inch.

"I'm afraid it is, my dear. I've seen his lifeless form with my own eyes, by now. Though I was not present at the time of his death's discovery, everyone else in this manor was, and if you wish, you yourself can slip in to ask.."

He does then open one eye, that pins the reaper in place with it's stern and serious look.

"Might I suggest in particular the other servants that served under him, for they will most definitely will have something to say, I believe, to anyone who'd object to this wretched truth they must now live with."

His other eye opens then too, and his stern look appears even sterner.. If that is possible.

"Or perhaps the boy Earl himself who now appears even younger, weaker, without that butler by his side."

Grelle still frowned, having crossed her arms tightly during his spiel, and merely stared him down.

Gone was the floundering brief glimpse of a debutante-like version of herself.

And here stood a woman with even more questions than before.

"I'll have you know, Mister Jeremy, this butler in particular that I speak of, and I know is much more formidable than you've likely imagined possible. He. Can't. Be. Dead. It's.... IT'S. JUST. NOT. POSSIBLE, do you hear me??"

And again, the man still stood perfectly in place, not even blinking before the enraged woman as she snarled her insistences through sharp gritted teeth.

"Oh yes, I can hear you quite well, my dear. But it appears to me as if there's a clear barrier between what I'm telling you and what you are hearing. And perhaps it could be the wretched weather we are currently prithee to, or perhaps it's something possibly.. unseen at work. Like a certain foolish human device in ones chest cavity shouting above my words, drowning them out. But there's unfortunately nothing I can do about that. And alas,"

He swiftly took out a pocket watch, and checked the time.

"I must leave you to return to the others. As I explained earlier I've put it upon myself to help the Earl and his remaining guests solve this case, so,"

He clapped it shut, and looked up at the reaper again.

"I wish you well, madam, and pray that if perhaps we next meet it'll be on better terms. For both our sakes."

And his smile then at her was as smooth as a pearl, eyes closed and cheery wrinkles presenting themselves even more so.

He means only the best.. A voice insisted to Grelle, and she found her muscles relaxing.

Her eyebrows remained firmly pressed down, though, her mouth a single line.

"Yes," she heard her own voice murmur over the rumble of thunder, "for both our sakes, indeed."

And she automatically turned away as the man himself turned too.

Both parties quietly trudging away from the scene.

And yet Grelle's mind spun round and round at break-neck speed.

Something was definitely up here. For there was too many peculiar things going on in this one moment alone!

This Jeremy himself. A Vicar?? At Ciel Phantomhive's place?? In the middle of this storm that had likely been going on since earlier that day.. No, even since yesterday Grelle was certain the rain had been falling.

And his stance. How he was the one to come to her in this moment. Not any other servants! He was merely visiting wasn't he?? He surely wasn't planning on staying much longer after this event!

And and and..

Grelle wanted to hold her head and curl up.

He... He was either ACTUALLY the one somehow to KILL SEBASTIAN or.... or... OR....

...........

....

.

The pocket watch.

[naughtsimpossible]

I wrote a thing!! It's a very long poem, my longest to date, and I hope you all enjoy! It's under the cut so this isn't a massive post ^-^

Point northward, my soul! Tell a truth

In the north thou wilt find, so true as gold

A peddler, a sojourner with goods

He’ll invite you along, a merry old chap!

And will walk you both on thro’ the woods

You’ll walk for a while, about a day and a half

When all of a sudden, out of the quiet, comes his mouth!

Yes indeed, he will relate tales and stories

Of good and of evil, of north and of south

The majesty, this man! He speaks e’er so wise

How lucky one may be, such as you

To find such a sage, such as this!

He scratches that itch, fills that soul, brings you all about anew

At long final last, you reach the large port

Say ‘Ave!’ and salute, yes sal-ute and -utate

A man, what a man! who travell’d so far

Not only on earth, but in Heav’n, around all the great

Now! Be off, O Soul, to the west

After leaving the port, a sunnyside scape

The rocks multiply, the warmth disappears

There comes a great chill, a frost that will bite

It feels all so dreary, O why art thou here?

You wander, you wonder, when off in the distance

Where the sun has just set, you see a small light

It flickers, it burns, all orange of fire

Oh Grace! Oh what luck, it’s a fire, what right a delight!

Prance, nay: Run to the fire, the sign of dear life

Leave naught but footsteps and drear behind

Out of breath you arrive, and look o’er the scene

To see a candle, a small wee wax ear

How did it get here? Who put it asunder?

When off to your right, an answer doth growl

The tyger, the gutt’ral, the meanest of stance

‘Twas waiting for you, and in you hope of no more a-prowl

Run, O Soul, run! as fast as thou can

Beware the snakes in the rocks, oh dear

Watch as the sun reappears, the warmth comes again

And you are back at the land of the clear

Thou be turn’d, O Soul, to the east:

No? What’s this? Why doth thou object? Throw your arms in the air and say “oh no, no sir, no ma’am,

not once nor twice am I off to there!

I delight in the peddler of North and shall meet him again.”

Indeed, thou doth come to a break in the path

A left and a right, one wide and one not

One trodden with vines, the other open and smooth

“An easy old choice” you think to yourself, and off you do walk

For days and for days it seems you wander all o’er

But time has no grip, no hold over you

Yes, lost your sense you have, adrift in the void

For everything is right and all easy to choose

There comes no qualms in any decision

No grief nor any angst all abloom; But is this truly the North?

“Turn unto the vegetated path” a little voice squeaks out

Oh! a little sparrow coming and flying says thus to you

Looking around for the first time you sense

Just how lost you have gotten, how untrue this place is

And heeding the words of the sparrow to turn

You find yourself back in the port in but a short time

The last departure: the South

You begin down a path, a foot-wide dirtway

When shortly you stop, and behold a sight

Off far on the ‘rizon is a jagged landscape

Mountains, O Soul, await you in spite

Continuing on, about a day’s travel now

You stop underneath a dear Sycamore tree

An odd sight, why sure, but who cares? It’s a rest

And so you tend fire and lie down to heal thy footly enmity

In your slumber you see in foggy visions

A sparrow, a man, and a tyger

The sparrow flies high, the man lets a laugh, the lion a-mirths

They grow, bigger, bigger, and bigger

Then all of a sudden, you awake with a start

As a wee bird pecks at your cheek

A brown bird, little can be, what a fortuitous sight -

An identical bird of the dream, though its eyes look just slightly more bleak

He sits in the tree, singing his song

You pack up your goods, and get on with the trip

He follows you, still tweeting aloud

You pay him no heed, lest you dash a rock and slip

Many moons on, you’ve reached the peakscape

All cover’d in snow, and pointy and sharp

You climb for hours, not making a sound

When comes a rival to silence, so sweet as a harp

Your teeth are a-chatt’ring, your fingers turn blue

You pass the first peak, the second, the third

Roundabout the fourth peak you see

A similar figure to that of the peddler of word

He speaks in false tongues as you near his face

He spits and he cowers, and greets you with haste

The bird, your bird, attacks his black eyes

And you away posthaste, posthaste!

After mounting the last peak of the trek

You spot a sight not seen ever before

A flat barren wasteland, completed with stone

Whether it be living, now that could be either/or

About a hundred yards out off of your spot

You see a dark shadow move into the light

You cannot see much of this beast,

Save for the chains and twisted delight

Yes, the creature, monster, fallen Form falls

It curls and it ‘torts all about the place

A shriek unparalleled in your time

Pierces your eyes, your ears, and your grace

You fall and you fall, deep, deep into despair

There is naught but hope, and hope is so far

Hope is for those who live and who laugh

Not for treacherous deaths, like you old mar

It laughs, though you cannot hear it

All you see, all you perceive

Is the failure you are, the offence to the Man

When what is this? a sparrow deceives

Yea, I say to you, your sparrow deceives!

He frees you from your bonds, lifts you from your cage

The grey disappears, the black and the hate

You fly all on o’er the mountains you wage

He takes you on back, way past your good old port

He flies you to lands with a man you so loved

Yes, you landed in the north, all free from the South

And found the peddler, the Man you so loved

He does not speak a word, merely pulls out a cloth

And tends to your wounds, unreal as they may seem

You feel the scar form, but the wound has ceas’d

For he is the master of all and of all

Yes, He is the master, the reason True North

Is the way that it points, and the place that it lies

True North is not there; rather, it is He

Turn due South if you choose, O Soul

But do not be fooled: The (s)laughter of It is no match for the stories and mirth told by He

“Your offspring shall be numerous as the stars,

“I am Who am, I am Who am,

“The Word became flesh,

“Eloi, Eloi, lamma sabacthani,

“Love abounds,

“Abide in me and I in you, abide in my love.”

Turn north, and do not fear: South is only but a choice, and ne’er a punishment

[yuuniee]

“Hey, would you like to know how machines are made in our dorm?”

Name: Micah Prescott

Japanese: ミカ・プレスコット

Dorm: Monsville (@fumikomiyasaki)

Birthday: 20th November

Age: 19

Height: 176 cm (208 cm in monster form!)

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous

Homeland: Interstate Hill

Family: Unnamed mother, unnamed father

Voiced by: Tetsuya Kakihara (Keith Clais)

Nicknames/Aliases: Plankton (Floyd), Monsieur Cyclops (Rook), Sir Lime Juice (Sakae), Mr. Prescott (Henry)

Grade: Third

Class: 3-E (no. 08)

Club: Science Club

Best Subject: Magical Power Engineering

Hobby: Reading

Favorite Food: Rice pudding, grilled meat

Least Favorite Food: Burnt food

Pet Peeves: Anything that disrupts his work/studying

Talent: Coming up with jokes

💙👁️💙👁️💙👁️💙👁️💚👁️💙👁️💙👁️💙👁️💙👁️

Appearence: Micah is a young boy with pale skin, straight green hair that covers his left eye, blue eyes, a pair of sharp fangs, sharp ears and overall a skinny figure.

In his school uniform, his hair is tied up in a half ponytail, he wears an eyepatch on his left eye and doesn’t wear the black jacket. Also he wears a metal earring. Besides that, everything is basically the same; white shirt, dark blue vest, black pants with a vertical line on each side facing outwards. He also wears a pair of dark green sneakers with white laces.

In his dorm uniform, he doesn’t wear the eyepatch but his eye is still covered with his hair. He wears a hat with the Monsville logo on top and two holes for his horns. He wears a white shirt with light violet collar and his dark blue jacket is wrapped around his waist. On bottom, he wears a pair of dark blue pants and red shoes.

Personality: He is funny, smart and quite popular in school. Always lends a hand to those in need and helps out others when needed. But there are times when he comes across as snarky and smug when he doesn’t actually mean it.

Unique Magic: “Little World”

It allows him to get bigger or smaller. When he uses it on someone or something (like an object), it adjusts their sizes. It consumes very little magic by the way!

👁️💙👁️💙👁️💙👁️💙😈💙👁️💙👁️💙👁️💙👁️💙

💙👁️💙👁️💙👁️💙👁️💚👁️💙👁️💙👁️💙👁️💙👁️

Fun Facts:

Due to him being a honor student, he tends to get praised a lot. Not that he minds of course!

He is best friends with [TWST!Sulley].

Being a lawyer and an engineer, his mom and dad often expects him to get in somewhere good. That’s why he tends to overwork himself sometimes.

He likes rain and snow, and walking while it’s raining. He’s aware that he might catch cold, but he finds it relaxing.

His horns are ticklish when touched.

He is always in the top three in his exams and also teachers like him for that. He is that one guy who always asks questions about the topic if he doesn’t understand it.

He also bites into his ice cream and gets brain freeze.

He idolizes [TWST!Frank McCay] and aspires to be like him.

His favorite candy is apple flavored ones.

He is a comedian in Magicam, sometimes he even does livestreaming where he sits on a chair and cracks jokes. His little show is called “A Laugh A Day”.

He LOVES puppies. He even volunteers to help in an animal shelter.

In his Birthday Boy card’s story, he mentions wanting to become a vet when he graduates. When asked why, he tells Yuu that he wants to help animals, especially the abandoned pets and the injured ones, so they can go find themselves a new home where they can be happy, cozy and warm.

In his Birthday Boy card’s story, he reveals that he had braces in middle school.

Although he is good at singing, he rarely sings and does it whenever he is alone.

[More facts are yet to come, please be patient!]