#and I say 'God give me strength to make it real as accurately as possible'

[zu-is-here]

cupid

[hookitall]

4, 17, and 20 for the polytheist asks :))

4. How do you picture the universe? What is your idea of it's cosmology?

Honestly I'm quite cut and dry scientific in my view of the universe and cosmology in particular. I see some wonderful photos from satellites and it's beyond anything I could possibly imagine. It's all beyond me, the science and the scope of it, and awe inspiring enough. I do take comfort in legends and myths of heroes being placed amongst the stars in death; it coincides nicely with my hope that we come from the stars, and to the stars we will return.

17. Do you associate certain gods with specific songs? Share them!

Before I ever read the libretto Brindisi gave me some real Dionysus vibes. It's just got that bounce that I associate with him.

For Aphrodite (Venus) Billy Joel's She's always a woman just speaks to the nature of the goddess in a way a lot of standard love songs don't imo, also for broadly similar reasons Dead ringer for love by Meatloaf

Simon and Garfunkel's The boxer always makes me think of Hercules, just the lyrics speak to a life of battle and fighting and bittersweet ending

because it healed me more than anything else, and also because he died defying Zeus and Hades on behalf of humanity, I associate Billy Joel Only the good die young with Asclepius

20. List a few deities you worship and a quote you think represents them best

I try to mark the days of most of the major deities in some way, but as you asked about who I worship I'm going to give you the deities I call on during my daily prayers (that aren't necessarily required, i.e. Jove, Janus and Hestia)

I make a point to always include Asclepius in my prayers. He's the healer and the scientist, and if I was to say I had a patron deity it would be him. He wasn't the first deity I came to, but once I found home with him I never really left.

Quote: "There's nothing in this universe that can't be explained. Eventually."- House, M.D

I spent a lot of time avoiding Apollo before I eventually felt ready to let him in. He freaked me out for a long time because I had a lot of hangups about my own apparent gift for divination. In time I learned to understand that what I have is a gift for reading situations and people and understanding the context in order to make accurate predictions. Also apparently my atheist spouse thinks weird things happen around me a little too often for comfort.

Quote: "These days it seems like there's three sides to every story. There's yours, mine, lately there's the cold hard truth." - Bon Jovi (This is love, This is life)

It was Neptune who called to me first, I've always had an affinity with the sea and his power and strength protected me at a time when I felt incredibly powerless

Quote: "Wonderful is the calm of the sea. Here the weary waters lay their rage aside and the wild south winds breathe more gently. Here the headlong tempest bates its daring; the pool lies modest and untroubled, imitating its master’s manners."- Statius (Silvae)

---

Thanks for your ask!

[antiloreolympus]

7 Anti LO Asks

1. Do you know what really gets my blood boiling about this comic? Persephone and Demeter's relationship.

In the myths, Demeter and Persephone loved each other more than anything. Their reunion is so important - it marked the coming of spring and growth. A whole cult was dedicated to this for crying out loud. Yes, the myths were far from perfect, but the Persephone and Demeter myth showed the strength of a loving mother-daughter relationship with Demeter searching endlessly to find her child that was ripped away and had her innocence forcibly taken.

Now, RS is not the only author to make Demeter this over-bearing mother type in order to put more positivity onto the Hades-Persephone relationship. However, RS takes this trend to a whole new level - to the point where I would even consider it misogyny.

How is it, she takes this beautiful mother-daughter relationship and makes it out to be an abusive and controlling one, and then takes the Hades-Persephone relationship from a forceful one to a loving, perfect relationship with no problems? How is it ok to ruin one relationship to elevate another?

I understand that many versions of the myth try to downplay Hades' actions, and even make it so Persephone actually falls in love with him and there is no rape. But it doesn't change that this relationship was problematic, and meant to represent the loss of innocence.

Then fans have the gall to claim this comic is feminist and then claim on top of that that Demeter and Persephone's relationship was the same in the myth? These fans clearly don't know the myths, and neither does RS.

Making Hades a good person is fine. Changing it up a bit to make Persephone's loss of innocence something else is also fine. But ruining Demeter and Persephone's relationship? Especially when Persephone has to spend half the year with her? So horrible. 

2. im sorry, but rachel cant introduce KRONOS coming back and then dropping it for several episodes to focus on a stake-less trail and persephone not knowing what lingerie to seduce hades in. like thats too much of an earth shaking development and huge stake plot point to just ignore for months to focus instead on something as minor as hxp's relationship, which only points out a huge flaw: why is hxp's relationship so minor in this? isnt the whole point supposed to be about them?

3. I think LO completely dropped the ball over Hades’ characterization. 

From the first ep I thought ok, this is good, we have some bones to see he’s not that lucky in love and is just tired and lonely, and while ignoring the creepy actions towards Persephone, I thought ok, Artemis hates him, Hestia hates, even Ares hates him, maybe once Persephone finally sees the underworld and probably gets to know him it’ll be a clever twist and they’ll be proven wrong. The underworld will turn out to be fair and just, the citizens will love Hades, he’ll be revealed to be a good leader and king and not like his brothers, it’ll be like everyone saying Hades of myth isn’t actually that bad, and it’ll help reinforce why this sweet and bubbly Persephone wants him, she sees the real him, not the mean rumors and assumptions, this is perfect.

And then it just didn’t happen. The exact opposite happened, actually.

We’re shown the LO underworld is cruel and unjust, where the poor dead are forced into slavery and Hades created a harsh class divide with him and him only on top, the citizens hate him, the underworld gods don’t trust him and openly seem ok if he’s taken out of power, he’s not a good leader and king and doesn’t even want the job yet keeps it for his own ego and grip of power m, and on top of it all he is just like his brothers, if not worse. He loves to get violent over any little slight against him, he hoards wealth and resources to enrich himself while his citizens starve and struggle to survive, he’s corrupt, he controls all the media and laws to bend to his will, sleeps with his brothers wife for centuries behind his back while claiming to be holier than thou, he has sex with his secretaries who are made dependent on him for any way to survive, and now he lusts after his barely legal intern who is also now dependent on him for her way to survive, and that’s only what I remember off the top of my head.

LO perfectly set up to prove Hades isn’t the devil or the false pop culture assumption that he’s evil and to show some actual facts from myth, and yet Rachel only ended up reinforcing exactly that and even making him even worse with her made up ideas, all while thinking having Persephone ignore or excuse it somehow makes it not bad or even a good thing. It’s honestly kind of impressive just how bad of writing that actually is. 

4. Chapter 172 is not that interesting. It’s setup had me excited to see Hephaestus and Hera and learning more about echo, but it’s cut so short. Because again the story can’t leave HXP out for 2 seconds.

I can also see why Zeus is gonna go insane. 

5. i agree w/ other anon. LO should have pulled a PJO or a BoZ and just made up OCs and have them interact with the gods than whatever Rachel thinks shes doing, which is lying she's being accurate and faithful while completely changing all of it, removing what is needed, and adding what isnt so that it lines up with no actual myth besides like, various 50 shades fanfic she read in 2015 and some popular tumblr text posts.

6 . the animation studio behind blood of zeus literally can only draw one face for the men and one face for the women and they were still able to make the gods all look distinct and hot while LO can't even bother to use more than 6 colors and can only have the women look as tiny as possible with the biggest boobs while the men are all just lego men.

7. ////FP SPOILERS////

Okay so like I stopped reading LO way back before season 1 ended, and a majority of my knowledge of the series comes from what I read here on your blog which is enough for me lol and I decided to read the latest 5 chapters just to see what's up (on zahard. I refuse to give the actual series any views)

And I just. Could not take the whole scene with Daphne running from Apollo seriously? The anatomy and art inconsistency was so distracting that i genuinely could not find it serious. Even when Thanatos discovers her hibernated body I couldn't take it seriously because of how she looked?

And when Hades had that call (??? Was it a call? Or his inner dialogue? I couldn't really tell ngl) with Zeus and said he's causing Persephone unnecessary distress, and that she didn't pose any threat. B!tch??? She killed a ton of mortals??? She has no control over her powers???? She's literally a fugitive for the aforementioned things??? She apparently woke Kronos up? (Idk if anyone knows about that, again my knowledge only spans to whatever I read here) Hello????

And I have a lot to say about the chapters starting the trial but I'll only mention one thing; Hades saying "I don't think blindly supporting my little brother would be doing him any favours (as a ruler)" had me cackling. This is coming from a guy blindly supporting a girl he's literally only known for a few weeks, who's like what, only recently turned 20? Sit tf down Hades you're not cool, you creepy ass overgrown smurf.

Overall I still hate this series lmao. Regarding art though I feel like I wouldn't be so miffed about the anatomy much if the character designs were consistent and the story was compelling. They literally change hairstyles and body types frame by frame, and it's distracting.

The timeline from what I read here is laughable. 4 years in publication with almost 200 chapters and you're telling me only like a month has passed canonically. That's wild and such poor writing.

And as someone who literally will sympathise with any lead character pretty quickly, the story makes me hate them. It makes me want to root against them. I also hate the fact this trash is somehow top ranked on webtoons when so many other stories are far better then it.

Anyway, many thanks to this blog for existing and allowing me to dump so much text here to vent out my hate for this series lmao. You the mvp fam, hope you're having a good day 🥂🥂🥂

[twistedtummies2]

Well, you've done DC. How about Marvel?

Okay, this one was REALLY tricky. XD The issue with Marvel is that while there is one character who is consistently one I adore, the rest of the characters I can have kink crushes on tend to be in flux, so to speak. Like, sometimes I'll like them a whole lot, sometimes I'll only like them a small bit, sometimes I'll like certain designs or portrayals and not others, etc. So there are NUMEROUS Marvel characters I wouldn't mind writing for and can fantasize about, but how much those levels stand is forever fluctuating. Having said that, this won't REALLY be a Top 5 of favorites, but more...a Top 5 of consistency. Because aside from my number one (and maybe my number two), the other characters here fluctuate in terms of how much I like them compared to others. HOWEVER, they are ALL characters I CONSISTENTLY enjoy to some degree or another in a pred/big eater role. (Mostly pred, if you haven't guessed from previous answers.) Now, let's get into them...

5. Galactus.

Ah, yes, the Eater of Worlds himself. In point of fact, Galactus' literally cosmic appetite is both his biggest pro AND his biggest con. Galactus is a veritable god of destruction; a nigh-omnipotent being whose entire existence REVOLVES around consumption on a massive scale. Galactus literally eats worlds; he absorbs all energy the planet has into his being, and his hunger is neverending. Time and again he's come after Earth, but every time, he's outsmarted by the heroes and left to find some other place to gorge himself. On the one hand, God-level predators are freaking AWESOME, and that level of sheer hunger is INTENSELY squeak-and-blush-inducing. On the other hand, however, it doesn't leave much room for intimacy or for writing that will present an especially great amount of conflict. As a result, Galactus' appetite is both incredibly appealing and yet slightly off-putting for me.

4. Fin Fang Foom.

While his name is pretty silly, this giant dragon is actually one of Marvel's most underrated and intensely powerful antagonists. Originally imagined as a sort of unlikely cross between Godzilla and Fu Manchu - a monstrous distillation of all things that terrified people during the Yellow Scare - Fin Fang Foom has evolved with the times and, much like the Mandarin, still has a steady home at Marvel in the comics and in animation. He's not very well known, however, I think mostly because he hasn't appeared in any movies. As you know, I love dragons, and Fin Fang Foom is a dandy of a beast: a regularly rampaging monster who is, indeed, a canon pred. The image used here is actually from a defective clone of Fin Fang Foom, which had much of his power but little of his intelligence; the REAL Fin Fang Foom is actually highly intellectual...but this does not make him any less ravenous than the version depicted above. (Plus...come on, with imagery and writing like that, I HAD to make this the image I shared.) He's pretty much perfect for macro/micro type stuff, if you're into dragons.

3. Nightcrawler.

There are several X-Men characters I have had crushes on: Beast, Blob, Toad, and Sabretooth are the chief ones. However, in all four of these cases, how much I like them tends to fluctuate, as I've said before: it depends on a LOT of factors. However, the one X-Men character I seem to consistently want to stuff full of food or end up feeding myself to is, ironically, one of the least likely options: Kurt Wagner, a.k.a. Nightcrawler. I WOULD say this is because he's my favorite X-Men character (which is true), but I don't really think that's the reason. There's not much evidence of Kurt being an ESPECIALLY big eater, and certainly no evidence of him being of a predatory mindset...yet he has developed a niche group of vore-loving or belly-loving fans who really love the thought of feeding him one way or another, and I am in that niche. I think it's a mixture of his design and his personality: Kurt looks like a fanged, fuzzy demon, but his soul is actually that of a very fine fellow. He's an impish mischief maker, a charismatic and chivalrous gentleman, and a kind, charitable, religiously devout sweetheart, all at the same time. You can imagine Nightcrawler being a big tease to someone who has certain kinks, but you can also imagine him being very docile or very comforting. He's pretty much a tailor made character for the softer, safer, more playful sides of these interests almost without trying.

2. Tiger Shark.

I've only come to know Tiger Shark fairly recently, and I haven't READ much of him...but with what I have seen of him and learned of him, he's definitely worthy of the number two spot. Remember how I said in a previous thing of these sorts that Killer Croc was sort of "King Shark done right"? Yeah, I think Tiger Shark is an even more accurate example of that. In the comics, this rogue's story goes like this: Todd Arliss was once an Olympic swimmer who lost his abilities in an accident: desperate to regain his athletic capabilities, he gave himself over to experimentation, and his DNA was fused with that of a tiger shark, and also of the mythical Sub-Mariner, Prince Namor. The resulting mutation turned Arliss into a predatory monster, with superhuman strength and a savage appetite. Over the years, Arliss has been depicted less and less human and more and more animalistic by various artists; whether this is a canon show of his worsening mutation or just artistic license is anyone's guess. Tiger Shark has a more consistent personality than King Shark, and while his design has changed over the years, he's at least retained the basic concepts, as well as his hunger. I have to admit that I actually prefer a version OUTSIDE of the comics for my interests: the version that appears in the series "Avengers Assemble," which gives him a whole new backstory and a decidedly beastly design. If I were to write for the guy, I'd likely follow that one more closely. Still, the comic version definitely has some merits, too.

1. Venom.

Now, I'm specifically talking about the original Eddie Brock Venom; other versions just don't interest me as much. With that out of the way...Venom didn't START OUT as a predatory beast, but quite quickly, as time went on, the character became more and more focused on that aspect of things. Just looking at the guy, it's easy to see why. The Jekyll-and-Hyde-esque relationship between Eddie Brock and the ravenous Symbiote that controls him is one that can be used for both comedy and tragedy, and Venom's gluttonous, aggressive, and at times delightfully witty personality makes him a very fun character to imagine. He can devour massive amounts, has a canonical love of chocolate (as well as human flesh), and has more appealing dialogue than you can shake a stick at throughout his long history. He's right up there with Killer Croc as one of my favorite predator crushes in comics, and possibly the only Marvel character I can consistently say I adore above ALL others.

[shepard-ram]

The whole discussion of Disney Princess made me realize how easily you could combine Cinderella and yandere techno.

The Arctic Empire's holding a tournament in order to scout out potential army leaders for an upcoming conquest with the winner having to fight being against the crown prince Technoblade for 1st place. While the prize for 2nd isn't anything to laugh at the first prize is truly exorbitant like you could buy a palace levels of wealth because they need to give some incentive for people to not just instantly forfeit in the final round. You need money and fast in order to leave before the conscription goes out you want no part in this upcoming war and unfortunately getting the at least the 3rd place prize is required if your mental calculations on how much both the boat passage and setting up your new shop/home will cost are accurate but a higher place will give you more wiggle room. In order to not just get nabbed after the tournament you decide that a disguise is in order so you purchase a fairly durable mask (don't want it falling off or breaking during a match) and sign up under a false but believe name Ian moone, you did chuckle at the thought of the person who worked out that names message. The preliminary matches were a breeze after all just because you hated fighting didn't mean you were bad at it and if beating up a few noble brats who's only taste of combat was against their tutor's ment you didn't have to kill anyone in a war that was a compromise your morals would have to make. Once there were only 16 of you left however they introduced a new rule you couldn't forfeit before 10 minutes passed, ok them change of plans you would have to try and drag the last match before the prince so you could grab the 3rd place prize and run, with this in mind you made sure to end fights quickly in order to have enough strength to stall for the 10 minutes. There was one problem with this plan your opponent in the finals didn't conserve their strength so only a few minutes in to the fight they collapsed meaning you won by default, you would have to fight Technoblade and so you react they way any sane person would be cursing every god you could think of. You were going to throw the match that was the sane thing to do then you saw the pink haired prince's look of pure arrogance and heard the Emperor's speech about how glorious the upcoming war would be and that to fight for the empire is something every citizen should strive to do,well let's just say you were a bit ticked off. Your sudden burst of speed across the arena caught everyone off guard as your sword smashed into his shield with it splintering as if you had struck with a axe, if the royals wanted to glorify the frenzied close combat of war that their citizen would have to face while they directed the war from their palace an ocean away from the front well you'd be glad to knock them down a peg or two. The prince upon seeing his shield get split in half with a single strike ducked behind one of the obsidian walls in the arena that wouldn't help him though as instead of coming around the corner into the path of his crossbow you stopped on the other side of the wall putting your full strength behind your swing and sliced through the obsidian , through the prince's armour and only stopping once you shattered the bone in his upper right arm your iron sword shattering in the process, the prince forfeited,finishing the fight. You had ended the match with two blows, the arena was silent before erupting into cheers as you came down from the combat high to realise that you needed to leave now. As you were lead to your prize guards flanking once you were in the room alone you immediately looked for a way out and found a small window that lead out to a alleyway jackpot stashing as much of your prize as possible into your travel bag you shoved the bag through the window taking your mask off and placing it in the floor and squeezing yourself out of the window grabbed your bag and headed for the docks to catch a boat out of the empire before they were the royals were any the wiser.

Unfortunately as the boat was setting sail the Emperor and his eldest son finally entered the guarded room where you should have been only to find your mask and the prize money you couldn't fit in your bag. Technoblade liked to think that despite the voice he was a calm person but at this moment in time he was two steps away from murdering the incompetent guards that his father set to guard the masked fighter who bested him, who managed to stun even the voices into silence with your show of strength who would be stunned thought not only had you split his shield in two with an iron sword but you managed to slice through obsidian, his enchanted neatherite armour and would have cut off his arm if your sword didn't break. How had he never found you before, someone of you caliber should be known far and wide that fight though short made his heart race like never before he needed to face you again both the voices and surprisingly his pigling instincts demanded it to fight you, test you, to make you his. Grabbing his fighters mask he rushed past his stunned father to find your entrance form ( he hadn't be listening when the announcer said your name so sure you would be defeated with ease) he searched for his fighters name ah there it was Ian Moone and as soon as the voices hear it they erupted some bellowing with laughter, others applauding your cleverness,a few however became enraged that you wouldn't even gift them your real name. Having no patients for his confusion the voices yelled at him to rearrange the letters and like magic Ian Moone became I am no one, oh that's how you wanted to play you wanted to test him his pigling instincts surmised you wanted him to show his devotion before submitting as his mate, the voices upon hearing this chimed in saying you weren't in the empire you left by boat for once their limited omniscient helping him. As his fingers traced the details of your mask it didn't matter that you weren't in the empire anymore he would find you no matter how far you ran he would bring you to home and he wouldn't allow you to leave again.

Ender-anon

OK YES???

Just the whole concept of defeating Techno only for it to spawn a little crush is so good- the fact that you left behind your mask yet no one spotted you probable drives him crazy ksksjjdsj

[birdsareblooming]

Infinite is connected to Solaris

This is gonna be a long one, strap in.

Infinite, Infinite, Infinite. The most recent in-game villain, and the most powerful in recent history as well. Despite being only around 3 years old, he’s become extremely popular. and half of that is because of the song.

Mephiles, Iblis, and Solaris. Villains over 10 years old that haven’t been used since their original game appearance in Sonic the Hedgehog (2006)

Or... have they?

Now I want to say before all of this, this all could be coincidences, me being delusional, or something otherwise. It is ONLY a theory, but for something as crazy as I’m claiming I need to preface with this for my own sanity. 

But i’m gonna cut the bullshit. You’re here to see how I am going to bs my way to saying that Infinite the Jackal is connected to a dead god from what is regarded as the worst Sonic game. 

And, like most of these, I need to start with some house cleaning, some things you need to understand.

1. Time Eater is Mephiles

You might have seen me meme about this before...

...But yeah that’s exactly the situation.

I had theorized this before I knew Ian Flynn thought the same thing. Their identical color-schemes, almost identical aesthetic, and completely identical power-set. 

Even the name Time-Eater, that was Mephiles, and Solaris’s goal. To eat time. 

2. Ifrit is Iblis

Now i’m going to assume you have two questions

If Time Eater is Mephiles, than where’s his counterpart, Iblis?

Who the fuck is Ifrit

Long and Short, 

But, more importantly, 

Ifrit is what caused Silver’s Future post Sonic 06.

Ifirit was their retcon for keeping Silver’s future the way it is (even though they defeat it at the end of sonic rivals 2, causing the future to not be that way, hence why Silver was 3 conflicting backstories. Thanks guys.)

So, when it comes to fire demon that destroys the world and causes the future that Silver the hedgehog lives in, that’s a good amount of evidence already, especially with the preface that Mephiles is alive in the form of Time-Eater. If Mephiles was reborn, why wouldn’t also Iblis? and Ifirit is so uncannily similar theres no other candidate. 

also, might I add:

(thanks @zorloser​)

For you who don’t know, Ifrit’s story ended being re-trapped in it’s pocket dimension with Eggman Nega. 

3. The Phantom Ruby

The Phantom Ruby... Oh, the Phantom Ruby.

A very new addition to Sonic, and yet very important. It was the leading mcguffin of two games, and is made out to be very powerful. 

yes I know that’s a lot up there, but you need to understand the Phantom Ruby to fully understand this theory. 

It’s also very important that Eggman didn’t create the Phantom Ruby as he claims. He created Infinite, not the stone attached to him. Despite there being prototypes, which does confuse me, but from what info we’re given from the wiki the Phantom Ruby seems to have come from Classic Sonic’s universe, even retreating there after the events of Forces. This is also confirmed in Episode Shadow:

Although, Eggman did name it, seemingly on a whim.

~Tangent Time~

Despite being CALLED a Ruby by Eggman, the Phantom Ruby doesn't LOOK like a ruby, despite being magenta.

Rubies CAN be dark even to the point of being Black, but never connected. They’re usually just one shade.

(And don’t you dare say “The chaos emeralds don’t look like emeralds bc they’re not green. They’re all TECHNICALLY emeralds, they’re part of the beryl family, and even if only green beryls are called emeralds, they are all the exact shades of beryl.)

But what the Phantom Ruby DOES look like, is obsidian. 

note this for later.

4. Infinite

For those who don’t fully know Infinite’s backstory, it’s expanded upon on the wiki and Rise of Infinite 

Now that we’re all on the same page, lets continue to him now. 

Lovingly referred to as the “Masked Clown.” Infinite goes about the entirety of Sonic Forces revealing nothing of himself, the only things we know about him are from Episode Shadow and Rise of Infinite. We don’t even see his real face in-game. 

Although we have enough to know that his personality changed post Phantom Ruby, it’s even mentioned on the Wiki. Although how much of that change was spurred on by being beat up by a 15 year old, we’ll probably never know. 

Although his goal has always been the same. Starting the planet over as a desolate wasteland. What a fun dude to be around. Probably the life of the party.

5. Connections

(i’m using Mephiles and Time-Eater intermittently, same with Iblis and Ifrit.) 

Alright, now we’re all on the same page. Let’s move on.

I’m going to play a game we’ve played before. I’m going to name something about Infinite or the Phantom Ruby, and add something that’s eerily simmilar to Solaris (Mephiles + Iblis)

All of this Info can be found on the Sonic Wiki

Phantom Ruby: -It is an interdimensional gemstone of incredible power- Ifrit: It is an interdimensional, demonic fire-creature of incredible power- (wow those are, the same description huh)

Infinite: -After Infinite's fusion with the finalized Phantom Ruby prototype, he acquired the ability to generate, destroy, and manipulate virtual realities, which he could turn into virtual reality projections to interact with reality.[32] Said virtual realities are illusions, which Infinite creates by exercising control of one's visual and depth perception by feeding the brain false information- Ifrit: -Described as capable of binding one's soul, the Ifrit can enslave others with powerful mind control powers.- -Ifrit, which manages to use some kind of mind control on Sonic and/or Tails (or Knuckles and/or Rouge, depending on which team the player is controlling), but is defeated by the other teams, and is destroyed.-

Infinite: -Infinite's newfound strength proved so great that he was able to effortlessly defeat figures like E-123 Omega and Silver the Hedgehog, and ultimately best even Sonic the Hedgehog twice. He was even able to single-handedly overwhelm the entire Resistance army during Operation Big Wave. His power was such that not even the Miles Electric was able to give an accurate reading of his capabilities.[31] Time Eater: -the Time Eater has demonstrated immense super strength; even in its incomplete form, it easily knocked Modern Sonic and Classic Sonic unconscious with a single hit. After being completed, the Time Eater was able to effortlessly repel both Classic and Modern Sonic's and knock them out using brute force alone-

Phantom Ruby:  Its powers can also warp the fabric of space-time,[1] allowing it to create pocket dimensions such as Egg Reverie Zone and Null Space, as well as teleport entities from place to place. When used alongside the Chaos Emeralds' time-space powers, it transported Classic Sonic and itself to another dimension, and later sucked Dr. Eggman into a rift- Time Eater: Its signature skill however, is creating "Time Holes",[8] spacial rifts that lead to any point across time and space, including alternate timelines and across different dimensions.

Infinite: When everything you know has come and gone (You are at your lowest, I am rising higher) Only scars remain of who I was (What I find in the ashes, you lose in the fire) When there's no one left to carry on (This is an illusion, open up your eyes and...) This pain persists, I can't resist But that's what it takes to be infinite Solaris: -Much like his two halves, Iblis and Mephiles, Solaris is immortal and virtually indestructible.- -As a transcendent life form, Solaris possesses a unique state of existence that lets him exist in the past, present and future simultaneously, making him omnipresent throughout time and virtually impossible to defeat unless he is attacked simultaneously in all eras-

Possible reach:

Phantom Ruby:

Solaris:

(I’m refering to the odd red-stone in the middle, also that the wings somewhat resemble Infinite’s sword.)

~Tangent Time~

remember the first tangent? Where I meantioned that the Phantom “Ruby” looked more like obsidian than a ruby?

Well someone else looks like a certain type of obsidian, Snowflake Obsidian to be exact:

Alright Reaching time over. 

Now you might have noticed that the Ifrit-Infinite connections seemed to fit just a bit more-Maybe it was just me- even down to the Phantom Ruby and Ifrit’s OPENING DESCRIPTION being almost copy/paste, which i’m still amazed at.

This get’s to the next part of my theory.

6. Where are they (Mephiles/Iblis) now?

Welcome to~ where are they now!

Mephiles, or Time-Eater, So far is undocumented. It’s said they were “Destoryed” at the end of Sonic Generations, but for all we know it was just the machine additions, and Mephiles was “destoryed” over 10 years ago and he started kicking again.

Iblis, or Ifrit, was locked in it’s own pocket dimention along with Nega, and hasn’t been seen since...or have they?

haha that’s a callback! Do you remember the beginning of this post or is it too mindbogglingly long for your brain to comprehend in one sitting? 

7. The Phantom Ruby is Iblis/Ifrit

let’s talk about the power set of the Phantom Ruby. Interdimentional, very powerful, capable of some kind of mind fuckery.

Ifrit is, Interdimentional, very powerful, capable of some kind of mind fuckery, immortal and is constantly on fire,

You may be wondering about this “Fire” thing. “Solaris was a sun god and infinite has no connection-” WRONG! 

sorry that was forceful.

Infinite used a very specific and strange method to destroy the planet. He made an illusion of the sun, and set it on the planet. Out of all the methods, and interesting choice to be sure. But not for a sun god.

also: “What I find in the ashes, you lose in the fire”

“What are you saying you dumb bitch?” You might be thinking. First of all, rude, second of all, I’m saying that the power inside the Phantom Ruby IS Iblis/Ifrit, hence their connection.

Before I get to timeline and other stuff, some minor things:

The decision to have Infinite take on specifically Silver, and showing Silver being able to withstand a fight against him for a good amount of time, as well as giving them a minor repertoire, which no other seemingly “unconnected” Resistance Fighters get. 

the name “Infinite” fitting the naming scheme if “Iblis and Ifrit” and you know how this franchise is about naming schemes.

Now, where we last left Ifrit he was trapped in a pocket dimension with Nega. 

Where we first find the Phantom Ruby is “In Sonic Mania, the Phantom Ruby appeared on Angel Island after a dimensional breach occurred in the atmosphere.” (via sonic wiki)

Now, it is kinda hard to connect those two lines, but the dimensional causation is there. 

(I could add an ENTIRE subsection of me trying to connected Mephiles to the time-traveling nature of Little Planet, therefore connecting Solaris to Classic Sonic’s world ((and ��fun is infinite)) but this theory doesn’t need to be any longer and I cannot physically do any more research.) 

it’s possible Ifrit would be trapped, Mephiles was trapped in the Scepter of Darkness, so it’s more possible than impossible. 

But, Imma be fully honest with you guys, Most of this is because of the song.

If you haven’t heard “Infinite”, What is wrong with you. Go listen to it. Oh my god. 

But, some of the lyrics, don’t totally make sense knowing Infinite’s backstory. But it makes more sense seeing through the lens of the added Ifrit influence.

“And after all this time you're back for more“ (If talking about Shadow, it wasn’t a “long time” inbetween Infinite’s defeat and his rise. And Infinite has no stated relationship with Sonic. However, Solaris and subsequently, Iblis, do.) “When everything you know has come and gone“ “But that's what it takes to be infinite“

Even the name “Infinite.”

He chose that name after fusing to the Phantom Ruby and “ABAndoNiNg hIS pAsT SeLf” 

But, the Phantom Ruby has no connotations of immortality. None specified. it’s possible it’s power could be used to trick the user into immortality, but it’s never specified. You’d think he’d be called “Phantom” or, even, “Zero” (his working-and possibly true-name) But no. Infinite.

Now, think back to the connections earlier, and the info I took from Solaris’s wiki.

“Omnipresent throughout time and space”

Sounds pretty “Infinite” to me.

Am I saying Infinite is the new Iblis Trigger? Yes.

Ok my fingers hurt from writing this sorry it’s so long 

bye

[alice-in-wonderart]

I really like your writing and i was hoping you could do what you did with lxc jgy and nhs and i was wondering if you could do that with the juniors thx

OHMYGOSH, so many people are requesting UWU. ❤️ When I said the Juniors get the most love around here, I wasn't joking! (which of course is great, our lovely boys deserve the love) A day after making a post about having 3 similar asks, appeared a wild 4th one, so here we are, killing 4 birds with one stone! From what I recall, the boys are 16 (legal in my country) but for the sake of being politically accurate and tastefully uncreepy, I'll still age them up ~ This was quite difficult to write, since I'd never even so much as considered writing anything remotely un-soft for the boys, but I hope you ike it anyways. Somehow the softest hcs turned out to be for XXC too 🤣

Enjoy the spice, my lovelies! ❤️

P.S. Thank you all for being so kind, you guys make writing a true pleasure ✌️

P.P.S I know it took me forever to write this! i want to apologise for that, since university started, writing has become a luxury and quite frankly, writing nsfw for the juniors was nearly impossible to do 😵 Await more content in the *hopefully* near future.

Jin Ling

My gosh, getting him to undress would be difficult. For real, even after a thousand years of being in a relationship with you, he'd still be embarrassed when it comes to physical touch of any sort. Not to say he wouldn't want it, he just has to go through a semi-tsundere mini meltdown first. But worry not, it would only take him a minute to get over it.

Jin Ling? More like Jin Long. (I'm sorry) He may not be the girthiest of them all, but let me tell you - he takes great pride in his length.

He may act tough and macho, but underneath all that hot-headedness is somebody, who absolutely loves being coddled. More often than not, he'd let you take over the reigns, but believe me he won't go down without a fight. He is the absolute dictionary definition of a bratty bottom. In fact he the brattiest bottom. You want him to undress? Undress him yourself if you're so eager. But in reality, he'd be ready to indulge you in absolutely everything you wish.

Jin Ling is a sucker for praise. Tell him how good he is, praise him and he'll become putty in your hands. There's nothing he loves more than hearing you moan his name out in utter bliss. Knowing he's the one who brings you so much pleasure really strokes his ego, so to say.With Jin Ling, gentle gestures and kind words can get you very far.

He gets surprisingly dominant and demanding when jealous. The one sure way to get him to pound you into the mattress is making him jealous. It really only takes a random unsuspecting boy to chat you up the wrong way and you'd be in for the dicking of a lifetime. (as an aftermath, following a metric ton of complaining and passive agressive anger) He would absolutely mark up your skin as well - a precaution.

Sometimes, he might MIGHT get jealous of the other Juniors. Maybe you'd spent more time with them, or payed them more attention. Sometimes he'd be at work and miss out. Then, you'd have to remind him, that no matter what, only he gets to see you sprawled on his bed, his name on your lips, and tje sweet smell of sex in the air.

Speaking of work, you would be his best stress relief. After a long day of boring sect business, returning home and getting to ravish you would be his ideal evening, although he would never admit it. During those moments, where exhaustion would get the best of both of you, yet sleep would not come, passionate night of lovemaking would be the remedy for all your problems. And with those burning emotions in his heart, such nights would be the most memorable.

Lan Sizhui

You'd think Lan Sizhui would be the purest, most innocent of the Juniors, and you wouldn't be wrong, but at the same time you wouldn't be right either. Overtime, he'd transform from this sweet, gentle lover, who always makes sure you finish first, to this super experimental, utterly intoxicating beaST, who still makes sure you finish first. The more he gets accustomed to your body, the more confident and daring he'd become.

He's been pretty touch-starved for most of his life, so getting intimate with you would take some readjustment from him. Every single touch would excite him, every gentle moan would make his heart melt. And this sensitivity of his would, in turn, seek intimacy even more. He'd want nothing more than to hold you close and make you shiver in delight, to hear his name escape your lips and have you all to himself.

He'd be absolutely willing to experiment. Anything you'd want to try, he'd love to try with you. Here is a good time to say, he's also a pretty versatile switch. Whether you'd want to set your own pace and ride him to oblivion, or let him tie you up and make you see stars all depends on your mood. He loves it all and is a natural in both.

In fact, having you tied up with his ribbon (seems it runs in the family) is one of his favourite sights. To him it is so beautiful and delicate, yet at the same time it's his way of being possessive, of showing the world that you are his lover, that you belong to each other.

This boy has STAMINA. We all know the Lans are a force to be reckoned with, that underneath that sophisticated demeanor, polite gestures and snow white robes there is pure strength, acquired over years of training. That strength allows Sizhui to last for ROUNDS. If you're lucky enough (and away from Gusu) he could go nearly all night long with little effort.

One thing you found out completely by accident was his love for bitemarks..on himself. As long as he could hide them with ease, the moment he feels teeth on his skin, it's game over. And he wouldn't verbally admit it, but the sounds he'd make and how he'd move to give you more access to his skin is a perfect enough sign.

He isn't too rough per se and would much prefer lovemaking over straight up fucking, so quickies aren't all that common. He wants to take his time with you and explore your body. He'd nearly always rather wait until the bed at home is an option.

In general, sex with a Lan is like sex with an elf - beautiful, breathtaking, memorable. Lan Sizhui is no exception, though he'd go to great lengths for you. After all, there's nothing better than seeing you fucked out, drowning in pleasure.

Lan Jingyi

This boy, my gosh, this boy. Out of all the Juniors, this boy is the most dominant one. And when I say dominant, I mean he is the only one, who comes with all the jazz - bondage, teasing, roleplay, you name it - he'll do it. He is lowkey the kinkiest, who'll do nearly anything just to get you off. And honestly, he takes great pride in that.

His sex drive is that of a goddamn rabbit. There is rarely a moment he wouldn't want to be buried between your legs. His motto is "the more the wetter better". For that reason, being away from you for long is his worst nightmare. Not being able to hold you? To kiss you? To make love to you? Blasphemous. So, the moment you two see each other, after some time of being away, he'd be all over you. Of course, sex is far from being the only thing on his mind, but it it's a giant plus, which he wouldn't want to miss.

Lan Jingyi is a sucker for legs, no matter what length, especially thighs. He loves feeling you wrap your legs around him, or squeeze his head between your thighs. He is a firm believer, that this is the best way to go. Nine times out of ten, whenever you two are making out, his hands would be all over your legs. He just can't help himself.

Out of all the juniors, since he is the most experimental, so with some coaxing he might agree to a threesome. Of course, that would be much later in your relationship, when your mutual trust is hard as a rock. (and not only that) Though, he'd want to pick the 3rd person involved! (most likely Sizhui)

He would absolutely introduce food in bed. Actually, that would happen completely accidentally. It would all start with a handful of loquats, which you'd bring to him while away on a trip together. You'd feed each other the lush fruits between heated kisses, enjoying each other's company and he'd realize, that he could combine 2 of his favourite things - you and food. From that moment on, he'd try out all kinds of food - from sweet to salty, deserts, fruits and everything in between.

He would absolutely want to get you off somewhere in Gusu. The very idea of doing something so dirty and profane at a place with so many strict rules would turn him on to no end. And the thrill of potentially getting caught would be like a catalyst to him. The library pavillion? The cold springs? Just let it be in Gusu. His own chambers just aren't satisfying enough, they aren't risky enough.

He would quickly get addicted to you and your body, and when that happens - there is just no going back. Though I doubt you'd want to.

Ouyang Zizhen

Ouyang Zizhen is quite the catch through and through. There is nobody quite as cheeky as this man right here. As the proud, versatile, daredevil-esque boy that he is, he would love to tease the everloving god out of you in every single way possible. But the moment you tease him back, he'd be in shambles. He would totally sneak inappropriate touches whenever in public, but run a hand up his leg under the table while having dinner, or perhaps a friendly get-together, and suddenly his cheeks would go beet red and he'd go through a mini existential crisis.

Your long, heated nights together would become his reckoning. He'd never truly admit it, but goddamn, he'd become so addicted, to the feeling, the excitement. Especially when it comes to having sex in public.

Speaking of, while he wouldn't openly talk about your adventures in bed, he'd absolutely drop little hints about it in piblic, whenever you're freshly fucked and easy to tease. Intentionally letting himself look more disheveled than usual, pointing out any "little marks" showing on your skin and of course - that knowing smirk of his. And believe me, he fully expects payback.

The other member who might, MIGHT agree to a threesome would be Ouyang Zizhen. He is a curious man, who would like to try anything you have to offer, though jealousy could be a side effect. He'd want to have a say in who'd be the 3rd person. And while having two women succumb to his every beg and call is a very well-hidden desire of his, at this point he is so invested and in love with you, that such thoughts are out of the question.

The one thing that gets him riled up in bed is wax play. What started as "lighting a candle to set the mood right" ended up being one of the most passionate, lust-ridden, nights of his life. He loves how wax drips down on your skin, peeling off of your every curve. He'd get different kinds of candles, with all kinds of fancy textures amd smells, just to watch the expensive wax drip all over you.

Teasing is his go-to. He is a master of teasing. And his specialty is edging. He could prolong your orgasm, get you to practically beg for release, all while he's hard as a rock and still keep edging you. And his mouth is his secret weapon.

He'd learn how to play your body like a violin, all to leave you begging for more. He could go on for hours. And he would. Because of that, the orgasms would be godly. And he takes great pride in that as well.

Xiao Xingchen

This man is the dictionary definition of soft. His kisses are sweet, his touches are caring and his sex is phenomenally passionate. Intimacy is important to him, since he hasn't had the chance and desire to reveal himself before many people. (except you, that is.) No, he isn't just a soft lover. He is THE soft lover.

He is the king of love-making. To him, your pleasure comes first and there is nothing he loves more, than to hold you close and feel your body on his.

He generally prefers to bottom and leave the reigns in your hands, so he could just hold you close and enjoy your body to its fullest, but occasionally he'd absolutely be down to switch it up and spend hours loving you deep into the night. (his words, not mine) Knowing you are there, on top of him, riding him into oblivion, he'd almost wish he could see you. But then, he'd run his hands down your body, hear your angelic voice and immediately lose his mind into pleasure once more.

Lovemaking is his absolute specialty and gentle passion is HIGHKEY his forté. Each sweet touch of his, every choked breath, every heated kiss is so full of love and desire, you could drown in it. He wears his heart on his sleeve and whenever you end up tangled in the sheets, he pours all of his emotions into bringing you ecstasy.

He is extremely touchy, since that is his way of seeing you. He loves to just glide his hands over your smooth skin, exploring every curve, enjoying the warmth of your body against his. His fingers are long and nimble, so he uses them to his advantage. And somehow, every time he touches you, he finds something new to love about you. Because of that, being tied up is a little specific with him. He would let you do it, but only occasionally, since that would leave him completely at your mercy WITHOUT being able to feel you.

He is absolutely a fan of boobs. Big, small, size has never mattered. He loves the warmth, the softness and the fact, that whenever he lays his head on your chest, he can hear your heartbeat.

Whisper in his ear amd he's a second away from breaking. Moan his name and he's a goner. His ears are pretty sensitive, so hearing your voice and feeling your breath would turn him rock hard in record time. Call it a voice kink, call it obsession, whatever it is, it's the surest way to make him nearly beg for your touch.

Xiao Xingxhen is a gentle, yet madly passionate lover, who is ready to give you the stars. And once you get undressed for the first time, he'd find himself so utterly in love with you, he'd get nearly obsessed. And while extremities are not his thing, it wouldn't be uncommon for him to gently lead you away to your shared bed, whenever out on a stroll, just to undress you and kiss your breath away.

Thank you for reading~

[ofaprilflowers]

- part 2: home? - 

warnings: descriptions of injuries, not too detailed.

tags: shout out to my first-ever requested tags, @sista7-7​  @softieus​ and @marrambles​ yay! Thank you for reading and sorry for the late update TT. Hope you guys enjoy :)

disclaimers: I am not a medical professional, this is all part of my imagination and totally made-up therefore is in no way accurate. If you find any part I could improve on, do tell. I would appreciate the feedback. Other than that, enjoy! <3

previous/next

It took another week for me to finally be discharged. A week of rehabilitation and physiotherapy (which Dr. Hwang said would be continued after my discharge TT). I had lost strength in my extremities and also my sense of balance. This, I found out after almost falling down right on my face when I attempted to climb out of bed for the first time. Almost, well because thankfully, he was there. 

My parents had arrived the night I woke up. My mother immediately cupping my face, tears brimming in her eyes while my father just took my hand in his and smiled every time I looked his way. 

It felt surreal, honestly. My family and I were close. But we were not exactly the type to be crying and holding each other, or professing our love for each other. We were the laugh-at-each-other’s-life-problems-cuz-I-had-it-worse-than-you type of family. Then again, for me it felt like I was waking up from a long nap, while for them, they didn’t know whether I would make it or not so, fair enough.

Turns out, the accident was pretty bad. My head had to be stitched up and so now there was a nasty gash above my left eye (it was definitely gonna scar but let’s not think about that right now). My arms where full of cuts and scrapes from the broken windshield. My legs and chest, badly bruised. Dr. Hwang said they had healed fairly well in the past two weeks, but I still cringed at how ugly they looked every time I caught a glimpse. He also mentioned that I was lucky not to have sustained any other serious injuries other than my head trauma. I was grateful of course, but losing my memory was deleterious enough. 

I woke up every morning feeling confused as to why the heck I was at a hospital and it took a few groggy minutes to remember. Sometimes it took seeing Jaehyun- either curled up asleep on the armchair or standing next to the window with a cup of coffee in hand- for me to come crashing back into reality. 

I learnt through my mother- who had attempted to fit the past 2 weeks of my unconsciousness along with the last 6 years into a 2 day crash-course- that Jaehyun was the only one who stayed at the hospital every day and night. My mother had stayed the first week, as my condition stabilised however, she opted to visiting daily. That also depended on whether my father was available to drive her 45 minutes to the hospital from home. You see, my parents were rational people, but I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of hurt. I mean I was laying unconscious on a hospital bed yet there were still other important stuff to be handled. Well, as they say, life goes on, right? Kind of made me think if I had just hallucinated the tears brimming in her eyes the other day.

While my mother would babble on about looking on the bright side and starting my life again, Jaehyun’s presence was like having a burden be lifted. I know I’ve lived most of our “acquaintence-ship” hating him, but I made a mental note to properly thank him for this in particular. On every occasion that my head felt like it was about to burst from the overwhelming information my mother was flooding me with, he’d interject, naturally bringing her focus to something other than trying to piece me back together. Often times he’d ask her to join him for a cup of coffee, or show her things he was currently working on. I’d close my eyes then and pretend to fall asleep.

“So, you’re saying, I should continue my life ‘as normal as possible’. Meaning?” We (the doctor and I) were currently in his office. By tomorrow morning I was finally leaving. Goodbye to the sanitary, boring hospital, hello to......well, life?

The doctor had explained all the procedures and follow-up appointments that were to come. Both to Jaehyun and I. Then, we talked about going home and that’s when I realised, home had changed. I don’t know how we had avoided addressing it, or maybe I was the only one in denial of it. I mean throughout the week after regaining consciousness, although Jaehyun was there, we barely talked. Mostly because I became a selective mute, and he, well I guess he was respecting my space?

Dr. Hwang had noticed the awkward silence that had passed after he mentioned about going home and quickly changed the subject, calling in a nurse to guide Jaehyun in signing my discharge papers or something. After he left, the doctor didn’t hesitate in putting on what I call his “uncle-face”.

“As normal as possible, meaning that it’s better if you return to your daily routines prior to the accident,” he explained for the nth time.

I fidgeted in my seat. “But, wouldn’t that cause me more distress? It’s a life a barely know.” “Astrid,” he began, straightening his back. “I understand how hard it my be for you to wrap you head around all this. 6 years is a lot. But it is your life. Your experiences and memories throughout that period were real, and you deserve to remember them. You need to give your life a chance.”

Well, damn. He had a point. He should’ve been a therapist instead.

“And, what if my memories don’t come back?” I prodded.

“Well then, at least maybe you’ll learn more about yourself.” Okay, then. Here we go, Astrid.

We live in a loft?!?!

Pretty sure my eyes were bulging out of my head but wow.

Eyes wandering around the space, I tried to take in everything at once. This was certainly NOT what I had expected. This can’t be real right? I must absolutely be dreaming.

“Welcome...home?” Jaehyun said.

My head snapped in his direction, mouth agape. He smiled sheepishly, his infamous dimples popping out, his hands tucked into his jean pockets, his shoulders lifted briefly. He looked like a child, shyly presenting to the world his greatest creation. I almost smiled. Almost. 

“You like it?” he asked.

I scoffed. “For real?”

My eyes turned back to the space he had referred to as home. Well, it didn’t feel like home (yet. Remember Astrid we’re giving this a chance), but yes, I absolutely love it!

I took in my surroundings again and this time, couldn’t help the smile that crept up my cheeks. 

The space was gorgeous. It was big, but not huge. It was small, but not tiny. It was spacious enough to have everything and more. There was an L-shaped sofa that could probably fit 5 or maybe even 7 people if squeezed in together. There were even 2 more smaller ones in front of it. Perfect for a small gathering. Opposite the living room was a kitchen, with a small kitchen island. God, I’ve always dreamed of having an island. There was another floor and at the stairs leading up to it were ceiling-high windows with a bumped-out seat, all set with pillows on one end and potted plants on the other. It looked like the perfect spot to read or stargaze at night. I walked into the living room, the brick walls were covered in framed movie posters and artwork, some smaller frames containing pictures which I guessed were probably a collection of memories.

I stepped closer and caught a glimpse of some familiar faces in unfamiliar settings. One photo caught my eye. It was a photo I remember, taken earlier this ye- I mean well, early 2017, right after graduation. I was sandwiched between Jungwoo and Ten, holding up a peace sign to the camera. Jaehyun on Jungwoo’s other side, hand around the latter’s shoulders. Others in the picture smiling widely, so many poses, so many expressions. Literally, it felt like yesterday. 

“You remember that?” Jaehyun probed. 

I smiled. “Yeah, just a couple weeks before Taeil’s birthday bash, right?”

Then, something flickered in my mind. Of Jaehyun, smirking at a table with his friends, of them exchanging words and laughter, of me hearing something I probably shouldn’t have. Jaehyun had many circles of friends, being the typical extroverted, super-friendly campus sweetheart. This circle was one I wasn’t quite familiar with, least to say I didn’t really like them. I felt my cheeks heat up as my blood boiled at the thought of that memory.

“You wanna see upstairs?” Jaehyun’s voice pulled me back into reality. I turned to look at him. He was standing right next to me, looking almost exactly the same as the Jaehyun I knew. The Jaehyun that I couldn’t stand being in the same room with. The Jaehyun that always had a competitive, mischievous glint in his eye. The Jaehyun that would take every chance he got to argue with everything I said. The Jaehyun that made me feel like I had to defend everything I had. 

There was a slight difference, though. The competitive, mischievous glint was somehow...softer. It made me confused, because I was angry, but looking at him now, I don’t know who to be angrier at. Me, or him?

“Ummm, I think, I just- I just wanna lie down,” I tore my eyes away from him and took a step back, putting just a little more distance between him and I.

I saw his fists clench and unclench a bit at his sides. A moment passed until he said, “Yeah. Sure,” walking back towards the doors he picked up my hospital bag and gestured towards a room behind him.

“This is actually, um, our bedroom, but don’t worry, I’ve moved most of my stuff upstairs so this space is all yours,” dropping the bags on the bed, he stepped aside to allow me in. It was a beautiful room, with slanted windows, decorated with some more plants. 

“So, feel free to look around, get used to the place and all. Oh yeah, um, this is the bathroom,” he opened a door on the left of the room, then gestured toward a closet in front of the bed, “Your pyjamas are in the top drawer and, uh, well, um, everything else is-”

“I’ll take a look,” I smiled at him briefly.

His eyes landed on mine for a moment, then quickly looked away. 

“Yeah, okay, so um, I’ll be outside, if you need anything just, um,” his hands, one scratching at the back of his neck, the other gesturing undecidedly, “yeah.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay,” he replied. He stood there for a second, then turned to leave the room.

“Jeahyun?”

“Hmm?” he snapped his head towards me, eyebrows lifted in question.

“Thank you,” I breathed.

I saw a bit of tension leave his body. “You don’t need to thank me, Astrid,” he replied softly. “This is- this is your home too.” With a tight-lipped smile, he closed the door behind him.

[tangyblock]

SMSBI AU Masterpost!

Ok so masterpost time! This is mostly a rundown of the happenings in the AU, what role each character plays/their rundown. As an important note, if a CC at any time makes it known that they are uncomfortable with anything I do or include in this AU, it will be removed! There will be no smooth narrative exit, I’ll edit so it would have never happened.

This is set in New York City, during the modern day!

Tommy Robin (15 y/o):

He’s a sophomore in high school (Year 11 for the Europeans)

He got his spider powers at the end-of-year field trip in 7th grade to a science center! He was bitten by a radioactive spider, thus giving him his abilities.

He spends his 8th grade year making sure he has a handle on his powers (I mean, come on, he’s read comics. Now that he has these powers, surely he has to go out into the city and become a vigilante!) and making his spidersuit with his best friend, Tubbo!

He has the following abilities: super strength, spidey sense, increased regeneration, able to stick to walls/ceilings, and his own ~~unique~~ ability to teleport within a short range (anywhere within a 15 foot radius)

He wears his emotions on his sleeve, and is not the best liar.

Wilbur Robin (16 y/o):

He’s a junior in high school (Year 12 for the Europeans)

He has a twin brother: Techno Robin! Wilbur was born second rip

He loves music so much, oh my god-- he has his own guitar and spends most of his time writing original songs and busking on the streets of NYC. 

Help this kid, he’s so sleep deprived, he spends way too much time trying to become a well-known musician. He’s really good, too! He’s just not getting recognized for his talents.

Wilbur (nicknamed Wil) is so oblivious to situations, god bless him man

Techno Robin (16 y/o):

He’s a junior in high school (Year 12 for the Europeans)

He has a twin brother: Wilbur Robin! Techno was born first tho lol

He works at a Barnes and Noble, and is on the high school’s Academic Decathlon team! He’s very smart, he knows his shit. You can’t fool him.

Probably has a caffeine addiction, let’s be real. Who is a gifted kid and doesn’t have some sort of caffeine addiction?

Unlike Wilbur, he’s not oblivious At All. He’s lowkey suspicious of Tommy: is he Spider-Man? He has a list in his head, but come on. There are so many people in New York, it can’t possibly be his little brother!

...right?

Phil Robin (36 y/o):

He works as tech support (like answering calls and helping customers) at Huxley Industries, which specializes in scientific/medical tech, as well as household gadgets.

Since he is raising three boys on his own, he has another part-time job at a convenience store.

I won’t go into too much detail, but the bio mom of the three kids divorced and they agreed for her to have no part in their lives.

ANYWAYS changing tone! He’s a very caring dad to his 3.5 kids (the half kid being Tubbo because he’s always with Tommy so he becomes a pseudo kid overnight)

All I can say is Big Dad Energy(TM)

He doesn’t want his kids to worry or overwork themselves. He just wants them to be safe and be successful in whatever career they pursue. No matter what, he’s supporting them. 

Tubbo Cooper (15 y/o):

Tommy’s absolute best friend, he’s ride or die, man.

A sophomore in high school (Year 11 for Europeans!)

Helped Tommy make his spider suit! He’s really talented with mechanical engineering!

He lives ten minutes away from Tommy, often visiting him and vice versa.

He learned basic first aide! After every patrol, he meets Tommy in an alleyway and helps cleanup any injuries that would raise concern to his family. Though, he did promise that if a fight ever got out of hand, he would call and tell Phil.

He’s the man in the chair! Think Ned from the MCU and Ganke from Miles Morales’s story.

Installs cameras in Tommy’s suit so he can see what Tommy sees at all times, so he can give the most accurate info.

God he loves his friend, and yes gamers, he still loves bees ;D

Jordan Cooper (25 y/o):

Tubbo’s older brother! He does his best.

This one isn’t too obvious, but it’s CaptainSparklez!

It’s the Captain! He got the nickname from Tubbo, since he was Percussion Captain in his high school’s marching band and Tubbo instantly started calling him Captain

He works as a video game designer/programmer, or so that’s what he says...

He has a mini-van and no you can’t convince me otherwise.

He watches over Tubbo, as his older brother, since their parents aren’t around.

He has a strict moral compass, he believes in justice above all else. Without justice, good cannot be accomplished.

He works out so much, he has a little gym in the apartment.

George Alexander (30 y/o):

Since I don’t think this one is inherently obvious, it’s GeorgeNotFound oop--

He’s the founder and CEO of Huxley Industries, and also the villain Inveni (thank you Jean for the poggers name)

He works with his two “buddies,” Dream and Sapnap, who only go by their villain names. 

Think Kingpin.

Messed up morals, but untouchable: if you try to bring him down, his money can make him recover.

Dream (??? y/o):

Think Mysterio, but like. Not special effects.

He is a master of illusions! He loves getting into his enemy’s head and just messing with them. To him, mental damage is the most powerful.

How he got his powers is unknown to the public, but it’s thought that he got them alongside Sapnap.

Sass Master 10,000(TM)

Sapnap (??? y/o):

Think Fire Elemental, but like. Human.

He has the ability to summon and manipulate fire to however he sees fit! He’s a bit more of a brute, and my god, he hates the sass he gets from Spider-Man.

His power’s origins, just like Dream’s are unknown, although there is speculation.

Future characters may be added, but the above are who we have so far!

Additional Facts:

Tommy has a white/red suit, with blue and purple accents. It’s mostly white with red lining!

Tommy has saved Wilbur and Phil, without them knowing. Wilbur began busking in the wrong area, and nearly got jumped, and Phil was on a hijacked subway train.

Phil panic cleans, this is canon.

It took Tubbo and Tommy MONTHS to figure out the perfect web fluid formula. Imagine their absolute joy when they figure it out!

We got a Spotify playlist! Here’s the link, enjoy~~: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0bM10OHfYRdL86UzKT7Frf?si=FTH-i9H8RK28zVgeOEdy7g

PS: Asks are open! Feel free to ask away about this AU, I’d be more than happy to answer!

PPS: SHOUT OUT TO THE BINGO STANS FOR HELPING ME MAKE THIS AU YALL GAVE ME SO MANY 10/10 IDEAS

[gumnut-logic]

Coffee

This is @godsliltippy ‘s fault because she was so kind to me and posted Pocket Virgil to help me through the day. Above is the original three clips, of which Pocket Virgil is part of Clip Two. After watching Pocket Virgil try again and again with no success, I kinda wanted to help him, so this fic happened.

Total meta crack, that really didn’t go anywhere, but hopefully will be fun nonetheless. Certain laws of both physics and worldbuilding were totally ignored, so there may be some brain frying concept-wise.

This is for Thunderfam and for all the kindness you continue to bestow upon me. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You guys are amazing. ::hugs you all::

Leave sense at the door. I hope you enjoy it :D

-o-o-o-

Virgil Tracy was grumpy.

He knew this idea was good an all and he fully supported Lady Penelope when she suggested they document some of their rescues for the general public.

But not once...not once! Did she mention that he would be dragged out of bed before the sun, thrown on a set to perform, and the only coffee they would provide would be thimble-sized, consequently cold and allocated to break times.

At the moment, ‘break’ was definitely a keyword. Sans coffee, Virgil Tracy was quite ready to do something of the kind to the director.

“Now, Virgil, I know you’re tired, but you are the calm brother, the respected peacemaker of the family. Snarling at the camera isn’t quite in character.”

In character? He was playing himself, for goodness sake. He was in character, character sans coffee! Across the studio, he eyed the Tracy villa swimming pool and wondered if there was a possibility of filling it with coffee.

“Can we try again?”

Virgil grunted at the director. Bet he had had his coffee. Bet he was allowed to access that wondrous machine up so high on that shelf. Bet he hadn’t given one thought to how his precious Tracys might feel about the matter.

Yeah, Virgil Tracy was not in a very good mood at all.

The director stood up from the set and stepped away to be half hidden by the camera again.

Virgil lowered Two’s hatch and climbed aboard. All prepared to launch Two with a smile.

He grit his teeth.

Backing her up into her hangar again, he closed the cliff face and waited for the call.

“Action!”

Practised fingers went through their motions and Two cruised out onto her runway under the fake sunlight.

A poke at a control and the palm trees moved aside...not quite the way they did at home, but well enough...and Two taxied towards her ramp.

“Cut!”

Oh, for the love of...what now?!

“Virgil, you are grinding your teeth. I would say we could mute it in post, but you look like you want to kill someone. You’re the valiant hero, the gentle giant, not Hannibal Lecter daydreaming about dinner!” Virgil stared up at him through the windows. Usually, Virgil would be mortified, but it was barely past 7am, he had been up late for a real rescue last night, hadn’t slept well, and there was no damned coffee!

The director stared at him a moment longer before throwing up his hands. “Okay, you know what? Take fifteen, go find some coffee, for all our sakes.” He ended that with a glare and turned away calling the crew to a halt.

Virgil sat there staring at the replica of his ‘bird’s controls. He had been in the real thing last night. Saved sixteen lives.

He was just tired and not really being fair to anyone, including himself.

He just wanted coffee. Please, I just need coffee.

If his inner voice sounded like a dehydrated man in a desert pleading for water, it was just being honest.

The thing was that the crew had coffee. In that machine on the shelf. Sure, the cup was bigger than he was, but it might be just enough to put his brain to rights.

But he couldn’t reach the button to activate it. In fact, the one time he had tried, some smart ass on set had filmed him jumping up, trying to reach it. It had made the rounds until it hit Gordon, who then promptly made sure the rest of the world had the opportunity to enjoy laughing at his brother.

But then Gordon still didn’t know who poured dye in his pool...while he was in it.

The full body make-up his brother had to wear that day to hide the purple was almost worth it.

But coffee...god, he needed coffee. If only he could extend his reach. If only he could grip the cup...

Virgil blinked.

The solution was obvious. Oh my god. He felt like kicking himself for not thinking of it before. You idiot!

There was one piece of equipment he had brought on set that wasn’t fake.

It was here for two reasons. The first was that it was built for Virgil, only he could wear it and it was cheaper to just wear the real thing than to build a poorly functional duplicate. Secondly, Virgil preferred to have one on hand as often as possible, just in case, and since they had been spending so much time in Aotearoa on set, he had stashed one with the lead model maker for safe keeping.

He exited the fake Two and leapt out onto the runway. The fact that one of the set hands saw him and immediately made herself scarce was kind of depressing. He had been a grumpy bear this morning.

But that was all about to be solved.

He eyed the director and, making sure the man wasn’t looking, grabbed one of the discarded thimble-sized coffee cups and slipped away towards prop storage.

It was a hike and he had to dodge wheels and staff who didn’t see him. Those who did all immediately looked at their watches and, just like the set hand earlier, hurried out of his sight.

Maybe he was beginning to get a reputation.

Serve them right for not giving him coffee!

He found his helmet and his exosuit exactly where he expected them to be. Some neurotic librarian type had attached a huge name tag with a barcode onto it.

Virgil’s shoulder mounted laser took care of that.

It was almost comforting to slide on the equipment. The surety of its strength settling on his shoulders, its weight snug at his hips and ankles.

He sighed.

Of course, that one moment of relaxation was interrupted by Steven, the lead model maker, suddenly bursting into the room.

“I don’t know, Scott. That sounds kind of dangerous. The real Thunderbird One might be able to handle you surfing it, but I’m not too sure of the mockups.”

“I’ll talk to Brains. We’ll make it happen.”

“Why are you feeling the need to surf on the outside anyway?”

“Because it looks cool?” Scott cleared his throat. “Ah, because that is what happened during the incident we are portraying and accuracy is important.”

Virgil hunched down behind a scarily accurate model of that moon buggy Scott was always raving about. He dared not move because the wheeze of the suit’s hydraulics was far too familiar a sound to hide from his brother.

But then, since Scott was buzzing around at Steven’s eye height thanks to one of his jetpacks, his older brother really didn’t have a single leg to stand on.

Mostly because he apparently didn’t need them.

Virgil found himself grinding his teeth again.

He really needed coffee.

“You actually surfed on the outside of Thunderbird One?”

“Well, yeah.”

“That is so cool, man.”

“That’s what I said!”

Steven reached past Virgil’s hiding spot and picked up one of the fake explorer pods and Virgil remembered that he was supposed to clamber up the side of an equally fake mountain later in the morning.

Hell, coffee was mandatory.

Fortunately, Steven appeared to have everything he needed and both he and Scott left almost immediately after that, Scott coming as close to raving as Virgil had ever heard him, babbling about surfing on One.

Sounded about right. Scott and Alan might as well have been twins if it wasn’t for their age difference.

They both gave Virgil grey hair.

But then so did Gordon.

John was easier, cool and calm and sensible most of the time. But that just meant that when he did slide off the rails, he did a proper job of it, likely taking most of them with him.

Hmmm, must remember to grab some more hair dye on the way home tonight.

With the coast clear, he secured his thimble cup to his suit and made a run for it.

He made it across the floor to the blessed coffee machine without interruption this time, though he had to admit, his suit was much noisier than he had realised. But a good percentage of the crew were focused on that scene Scott was filming.

He could still hear his brother declaring that he knew his stunts better than any stunt man.

Virgil had to agree. If anyone was capable of surfing Thunderbird One, it was Scott.

The idiot.

Now, not only was he doing stupid stunts to save people, but now just to show off.

Virgil had a good mind to kick his ass. He was as bad as Alan.

No, correction. Alan wasn’t that stupid.

Virgil found himself taking a step in his big brother’s direction and it was only the wheeze of his suit that made him realise exactly what he was doing.

Coffee, goddamnit, he needed coffee!

Without a second thought, he fired a grapple line up to the bench top and was gratified it secured with a thunk. Pulling himself up with the right equipment was so much more efficient than the equivalent pseudo rock climbing he had had to do last time.

Before he knew it, he was up there standing next to the huge dispenser of coffee. He gazed up at it for a moment and blessed its existence.

But unfortunately, Sadie who had been kind enough to set it up for him last time wasn’t available.

Hell, if his assistant hadn’t been called away at the last minute, he would have gotten his coffee that day. As it was, the director had found out about the incident when Virgil arrived late on set and had given Sadie a dressing down that involved images of Tracy brothers falling into giant vats of coffee and being boiled alive.

As if Virgil would be that stupid.

Boiling himself would be such a waste of good coffee.

But there were no more attempts at giant coffees for Virgil Tracy from that point on. It was banned.

So, this time, he had to set it up himself.

He was consequently reassured that yes, he was really good with his tools. The suit hummed in appreciation as he made it do what he needed it to do and despite dropping coffee granules all over himself at one point – he was considering eating them off the counter, but then considered that a caffeine overdose wasn’t wise – he set up the machine ready to dispense some black heaven.

The teacup he had used last time had been pushed away to one side, but his exosuit made it a simple job to manipulate it into position so he could stand on it.

With the extension of his claw, he easily reached up and hit the green button.

It was a pleasure just to hear the coffee machine start up.

He was seriously tempted to take off his helmet and breathe in the gloriousness that was the scent of brewing coffee, but he still had to get that coffee cup into a position from which it would be safe for him to drink.

He may be coffee and sleep deprived but he wasn’t an idiot.

So, he stood there watching the coffee machine make the drink of the gods.

It was a little mesmerising.

And then the process was complete. The machinery quietened and the coffee cup sat waiting for him.

He didn’t hesitate.

It took both claws and a secure grapple to the shelf above the bench for stability, but he manoeuvred the cup down onto the bench top.

Steam fogged up his helmet as he looked down from atop the upturned teacup, so finally, he broke the seals and lifted it off his head.

Oh.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

He almost melted on the spot.

The smell was heady, intoxicating. Drowning in the dark liquid no longer seemed a bad idea.

He leant over a little further.

Ohhhhhhhhhh, it was just too good.

“Virgil! What the hell do you think you are doing?!”

It was Scott’s voice. Unmistakeable.

He would want to take away his coffee.

No.

No!

Not his precious coffee!

His brother flew up onto the bench and alighted without a sound. “Virgil!”

Virgil hissed at him. “Go away.”

That earned him a worried frown. “That’s not safe.”

Screw safe, he wanted coffee. He unhooked his thimble cup from his waist and reaching down, scooped up some blessed, steaming liquid manna.

It was hot.

It was delicious.

He poured it down his throat.

Oh, god, yessssss.

Another scoop and he sculled some more. His tongue scalded a little, but he didn’t care.

More.

More.

He was guzzling like a dying man at water filled oasis.

“Virgil?”

“Virgil!”

And suddenly the coffee cup disappeared.

No, no, no, no, no, no!

He over balanced and would have fallen if it wasn’t for a sudden thunk of a grapple on the back of his suit.

He looked up to find Scott securing his grapple line to a coffee cup hook underneath the overhead shelf as Virgil teetered on the edge of his teacup, barely prevented from falling by the cable’s connection to his suit.

And there was no more coffee.

No.

Please.

“I need coffee.”

Scott floated down to Virgil’s eye level and Virgil realised exactly who had taken the coffee cup away.

The director was standing behind his big brother.

Virgil was in so much shit.

Damnit.

“I just want coffee.”

Scott was frowning at him. “Are you okay, Virgil?”

“DO I LOOK OKAY?!”

Um, that may have come out a little bit louder than intended. But then he was hanging partly suspended from an empty coffee cup hook.

Much quieter. “I just need coffee.”

Scott’s eyes were wide. “I think you’ve had enough coffee.”

No, he needed more. Buckets more. “Please, Scott.”

“Uh, no. We’re going home.”

Virgil blinked. “What?”

But Scott had turned away and was talking quietly to the director.

Virgil caught a glimpse of something shiny out the corner of his eye and turned to find a single drop of deep brown gold suspended from the coffee dispenser.

Coffee!

Without thought he leapt for it.

Perhaps it was a good thing that Scott actually did think, because a yank on that grapple line probably prevented Virgil from being scalded.

“What the hell, Virg?!”

He blinked as he hung fully suspended by his brother’s grapple line, swinging slowly back and forth, one very unhappy commander glaring at him.

Umm, yeah, maybe that was taking it a step too far.

Scott’s words were firm. “Shed the suit and go and sit in the car.”

“Sco-“

“Now.” Blue fire lasered him where he hung.

Virgil gave in with a single nod.

Scott lowered him to the bench top and Virgil dropped the suit with a clatter. He stomped off in a huff as Sadie was called over the PA system to come and assist him.

He only wanted a decent coffee, for crying out loud.

After all, Gordon did get that massive hot dog the other day, and John had slept in his bagel, for goodness sake.

Why couldn’t he have his coffee?

It just wasn’t fair.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[maxineswritingcenter]

Bray Road - Fox Mulder x nonbinary!reader part 2

Agents Mulder and (Y/N) investigate mysterious killing on a forgotten road in rural Wisconsin. A connection to a case in the past brings the investigation to a whole new level.

—

The agents decided split up. Mulder went to go speak with the surviving victim and (Y/N) went to the coroner’s office so that they could look over the victims so they could get an idea of what could have done this.

-

Mulder entered the ICU where the boy was being held. Jason Mulligan, age twenty-two. He was a graduate student at the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire. After getting directions from the nurse, he knocked on the door and made his way inside. Laying on the hospital bed, the boy looked like he’d been through the ringer. Any skin visible was covered in bandages, even his head apart from his right eye and mouth was covered. At his bedside was a woman he assumed was his mother.

“Pardon my intrusion, I’m special agent Fox Mulder with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.” He flashed his badge.

“This was an animal attack though.” Mrs. Mulligan said.

“We were called in, it’s just procedure. I just came to ask Jason a couple questions if he’s up to it.” Mulder said, looking at the boy in the bed.

Jason sat up a bit, “I can answer questions.” He spoke in a hushed voice.

“I appreciate that, young man. Now how did you find yourself out on Bray Road yesterday evening.”

“A couple of my friends from school said they saw the beast. We wanted to find it, take pictures and I don’t know… get some money for it? I don’t believe in this type of stuff but-…” He paused, his hands tightening into fists.

“But now you do?” Mulder asked.

“Look, I’ve seen bears and wolves. That thing wasn’t either of those. That thing wouldn’t let us leave the road. It circled us. Picked us off one by one. I got thrown into a ditch and played dead. I stayed there and passed out. I woke up in the hospital.” He recalled the night before.

“The officers said that you were saying a word when you were found. Repeating it actually. You were saying “field” over and over again.”

“I mean, we were right by a field. That’s the only thing I could think of.”

Mulder’s cell phone began ringing in his pocket. He handed Mrs. Mulligan his business card, “Call us if he remember anything else.” He made his way back into the hallway and answered his phone.

“Mulder.”

—–

(Y/N) arrived at the coroner’s office and was led back to the autopsy facility. Dr. Andrea Sherman was the doctor beginning the procedure. Dr. Sherman got scrubbed in and began speaking.

“We’ve pieced together about five bodies. Or what’s left of them. This is the body that’s mostly intact.” She motioned to the body on the table covered in a blue sheet. Dr. Sherman pulled the top of it away revealing the head and torso of Zeke Bruins according to the tag on his toe. His left arm was torn to shreds by the creature’s claws. His right arm, seemingly torn off. The doctor began her physical examination of the body.

“I think this is pretty open and shut.” Dr. Sherman began, “We’ve had a few bear sitting recently. These kids were just there at the wrong place and the wrong time. Probably just a mother defending her cubs.”

“But it’s only October, cubs aren’t usually born until January.” (Y/N) said without thinking, like the words just flew from their mouth. The doctor looked up from the corpse and eyed them.

“I suppose.” She squinted through her safety goggles, “By the way, are you from around here? You look really familiar.”

(Y/N) shook their head, “Nope, just have one of those faces.”

“Well anyway, rabid bear, black bear, the rare grizzly, it’s probably nothing-” She stopped mid sentence, “What the…”

“What is it?” (Y/N) asked. Dr. Sherman was staring into the arm socket of the boy, she took a pair of tweezers. With a little effort, she jerked free something that was embedded in the bone. She dropped it in a metal bowl.

“Oh my god.” Dr. Sherman said. (Y/N) looked over her shoulder and their eyes widened. It was a human tooth. Their stomach dropped and their heart leapt into their throat.

“Could you sent the xrays to the field office in Quantico?” The doctor nodded, “Good. I’ll be in touch.” They made their way out the door and called agent Mulder. He picked up in the first few rings.

“Mulder.”

“It’s (Y/L/N). Listen, one of the victims had a tooth embedded in his shoulder blade.”

“A bear tooth?” He asked.

“No, a human tooth. But that doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, (Y/L/N) the human jaw is capable of biting off our fingers like a carrot, whose to say it can’t be lodged into your bone?” There was just a hint of humor is his voice.

“It’s impossible. The wounds sustained by the victims can’t be human. The average strength of our jaws are at about one hundred sixty pounds per square inch. The force that it would take to do this damage would have to be over two thousand.”

“I have a hunch. I’m meeting up with a local journalist on the case can you meet me there?”

—-

The address agent Mulder gave them was to a small townhouse closer to downtown. They parked in the driveway behind Mulder’s rental and met him on the porch where he seemed to already be talking with the journalist.

“Speak of the devil,” He smiled, “this is agent (Y/L/N).” (Y/N) met the pair and extended their hand to meet the woman’s.

“Linda Godfrey, a pleasure.” They shook her hand. Linda smiled at them.

“Have we met? I’m getting the strangest sense of deja vu.” She said.

(Y/N) shook their head, “Nope. Sorry.”

“Well, like I was telling your partner, back in 1991, I started working for The Week which is the local paper for the county. We were just getting siting after siting. So I started compiling and unraveling. I’m actually writing a book about it, I’m going to call it: The Beast of Bray Road: Tailing Wisconsin’s Werewolf!”

“So you think the beast is a werewolf?” Mulder asked, looking somewhat pleased.

“Well, I don’t know what else it would be. From the descriptions given that could be the only possibility. I even have the testimonies of the only survivor from the attack in the seventies.” Linda said excitedly.

“The survivor was a little kid, it was dark and they were scared. I don’t believe any testimony they give would be accurate. It’s the power of suggestion, this child lives in a town that makes its revenue from a cryptid like mothman or the Jersey devil.” (Y/N) rationalized.

“Even if that were true, Agent (Y/L/N), it’s all we have to go on. The child was placed with family in another state.” Linda said, “Now, if you would like, I could get you a copy of my research and all the evidence I have. You just have to promise to not let a single soul see it.”

“Cross our hearts.” Mulder made a crossing motion with his finger over the left side of his jacket coat.

“Well, come on in.” The agents followed Ms. Godfrey into her home. There were met by endless imagery of wolves and bears on almost every wall, figurines on the coffee table.

“I’ll be right back.” She said, leaving them in the living room.

“I never told you her name.” Mulder said, bending down to look at a figurine of a bear fishing.

“Huh?” They said, mind taken away from the portrait of a wolf howling at the moon.

“When I called you over here I never told you what the journalist’s name was. But you recalled it like it was someone you knew.” His green eyes seemed to look into their soul and to the core of their subconscious. They avoided eye contact, chewing on the inside of their lip.

“Look, Agent (Y/L/N), if you want me to trust you then you need to tell me what’s really going on here.” He said. They stood in silence for what seemed like forever. That is until Linda Godfrey came back with a stand of files.

“Here we are!”

-

Back at the hotel, Mulder had been in his room reading through the files that he had been gifted. Every first hand account of the creature. When he got to the killings in seventy-four he stopped. The name of the child from the case had the same first name as his partner, nothing strange about that. A coincidence more than anything. But that made him think. If he could find this person, who would be around his age at this point, maybe he could convince them to undergo regression hypnosis. He placed a call to the bureau to try and get the adoption records and went next door to share the findings.

-

A knock at the door pulled (Y/N) out of their thoughts. They hadn’t even realized the tears that were trailing done their face until then.

“Come in!” They called. The door opened and Mulder appeared in the doorway. He came inside, shutting the door behind him.

“I was looking through the records and I think the kid from the accident is our best bet of finding this thing. I got in contact with the bureau and they’re uncovering the adoption records.

“That won’t be necessary.” They said, finally meeting his eyes.

“And why’s that?” He asked. After taking a good look at them, he sat besides them on the bed, “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not.” They paused, choking on back sobs. They cleared their throat and laughed a little.

“Mulder, it’s me. I was the child in the car.”

—–

Yay! Part 2! I’m really happy with how this is coming our so far. Thank you for reading!

Part 3 here!

Also just in case anyone is interested: Linda Godfrey is a real person who actually wrote a book about the Beast of Bray road. I only dramatized her for the sake of the story.

Shoot me a message if you like to be added to the tag!

Bray Road tag:

@theres-a-dog-outside-omg

[rightsockjin]

A Little Bit of Stress

Summary: You and Namjoon haven’t had sex in God knows how long because of your mutually busy lives. Namjoon was stressed for the next comeback and you had students to motivate but how were you supposed to focus on your job when all you could think about was your boyfriend naked?

Rating: M

Genre: Smut, Fluff, tiny Angst

Word count: 14,456

Warnings: There is sex in this. Oral. Female receiving. Sexual spanking and playful spanking. Erotica…duh. BIg dick energy. And literal. You can feel it in your guts ladies and gents. Fingering, slight dirty talk. na na na na na na na na na na na na Soft DomJOON! A little angst if you squint. Very fluffy. Namjoon loves reader with all he’s got. Unprotected sex. Multiple orgasms. Nipple play-kinda. Bratty reader. Slight choking. Sensitive neck Joon. Ear eating.

Please don’t repost without permission. I worked really hard on this y’all.

`-admin OperaNickle

    Stress. It was the root of nearly all of your problems.

    Whether it was your skin breaking out in places it never did before, or his sour mood that seemed to swing from mild discomfort to full on don’t-touch-me-or-I-will-scream, it was getting to you both.

   Currently, you were sitting on the warm beige couch that Joon had insisted on buying after you complained about the white one that the apartment had come with. You dropped your coffee all over it and painstakingly scrubbed it for hours with a resulting light brown stain.

Your hands were resting on top of one of the dark brown throw pillows you’d bought soon after, triggering his own purchase of an oversized, red orange, paisley rug to match. It was never ending. He’d purchase something, then you would equal it or outdo him.

   You had pointed out one time after he’d bought the most outrageous and expensive thing yet– a dark brown mahogany wood coffee table that looked like an old time-y trunk– that he was furnishing your apartment and that it was a waste of his money. He’d merely chuckled and commented on the sheer amount of time he had been spending at your place since you two  had become more than just friends.

  “I’m just trying to repay you for all of the food I consume when I’m here. Really, you’re the one who’s losing since you have to put up with me.”

   Still, you had made up your mind to somehow repay him for all of the things he continued to buy without your consent. He may be well off –that being an understatement– but he didn’t need to be throwing his money at you. You had a job. A fairly okay one at that. You could buy your own furnishings and feed him when he was over. Another reason for your submission to his lavish, albeit over the top, gift giving was because it had clearly been established as his love language. How could you say no to the way he expressed his feelings?

   The slam of the refrigerator door alerted you from the story you had been reading on your phone. Your fingers accidentally scrolled right and closed the chapter you were on, causing the app to suddenly glitch and close. Your heart sank.

   You frantically clicked on the app to open it and when the loading screen popped up you knew it was a lost cause. You hadn’t saved the story, nor had you memorized the title or author.

   You slumped in your seat letting out an audible groan of pure frustration. You had just been getting to the good part. The part you had started reading the story for in the first place, and just like your sanity, it was robbed at the worst time possible.

   “Damn it! Pinche iPhone de la pinche fucking madre, oh my God!”

   You let the phone drop with a ringing thud on a spot on the floor. It was slightly muffled by the fibers of the rug, but your voice was loud and shrill. From his place in the kitchen, Joon looked over. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the glare on his face shift into confusion. He leaned on the bar that stood between the living room and kitchen and took two deep, calming breaths.

   You were getting on his nerves. You could tell. It wasn’t his fault or even yours. He was constantly under a lot of pressure and recently he’d hit a rut working on one of the verses of his songs. Itt seemed to travel to everything he worked on. The melody he’d been producing that had been flowing out of him like a smooth river;  stuck. The lyrics to his next solo song that had been as easy as speaking; cut short. The rap line song that had been his idea; missing only his part now.

   The frustration and dissatisfaction had bled into his personal life. To be more specific, you. He’d been at your apartment almost daily. Something about how you usually get him to relax and therefore out of any writer’s block he’d have but now it didn’t seem to be working. On the contrary, you seemed  to be making it worse.

   It was torturous. To have him in your bed and not able to touch him or sooth him in any way was the definition of your own personal hell. He showered late at night after he got in from work on most days unless it was the weekend, in which case he showered at around nine to sleep a full eight hours or more. Then he woke up on the earlier side of the morning to try and write from the comfort of his – your – “our” couch. That usually lasted until you woke up, made some sort of breakfast that he pecked at then threw away because his lack of inspiration made “food taste bland”.

   In a way, you felt inadequate. Your sole wish in this relationship was to make his life easier and you hadn’t been able to satiate him for one single second. You had always prided yourself on being able to calm him down, and this no longer seemed to be one of your strengths.

   He even wasn’t as affectionate as usual. Now, you weren’t the kind of person to let things like this get to you. It was a dip. A problem that would eventually turn into a hill. The lower you fall the higher you rise . It was just a fact of  life…so why did you suddenly feel like you were walking on eggshells and he was throwing them at your feet?

   “Are you okay? Don’t think I’ve heard you curse like that…ever,” Namjoon said, sounding apprehensive.

   Your pulse raced as the unfinished scene raced through your mind.

   Namjoon caressed your cheek, his fingers rough from working out. His voice, deep. Gruff. Like he’d just woken up.

   “Oh baby,” he whispered in your ear. His warm breath tracing the shell. A shiver ran up your spine that he pretended not to notice.

   “Do you know how much I’ve missed you,” he kissed your earlobe, letting his tongue dart out for a split second to lav at the tender skin, “Your voice,” he kissed the shell with a slightly open mouth, “ your lips…”

  He traced your ear with his tongue, strong from all the rapping and his accurate pronunciation of every single syllable. You couldn’t help but sigh as a blush tracked up your body and settled in your cheeks.

   “Joon-“

   “Shhhh,” he whispered, still working at your ear, “just relax baby. Let me take care of you. Let me love you.”

   “Y/N,” Joon said a little louder, snapping you out of your reverie. Your breath was coming shorter, your own mind trying frantically to fill in what you hadn’t read. Did he kiss her next? Where were his hands? Still on her cheek? Was he as turned on as she was? What did he mean by “take care” of her?

   “What,” you said, trying and failing to keep the slight bite from your voice. Regret filled you instantly. It wasn’t his fault that the app was glitchy.

   His eyes widened, taken aback by your tone. Great. Now you made it worse. You must have hurt his feelings.

   “What crawled up your ass,” he asked, succeeding in keeping his tone playful and soft but it still agitated you.

    You felt a lick of fire flicked against your chest. Anger boiled in your stomach. He didn’t mean it. You knew that. Just as you hadn’t meant the snappy way you’d answered, but the monster inside of you was ready to growl.

   You bit your lip trying to keep the retort in your throat. If you snapped again, he’d just leave. He didn’t need to be here. He had a dorm and people much nicer to be around. If you wanted to be alone for the next couple of days, it would be the perfect way to do it.

   “Is it work still,” he asked again, his features softening once again in concern.

   The monster retreated as quickly as it had come. The way he seemed to search your whole body as if it could tell him without your words what was wrong was endearing.

   “Yes.”

   It wasn’t a total lie. He’d said “still” and yes, it was a part of your major frustration. Not only was your boyfriend being uncharacteristically cold but your students seemed to be trying less and less every class. It was like no one cared to learn English or to study anymore. Perhaps it was you. Maybe it was that you just weren’t as good of a teacher as you had thought.

   It had been plaguing you. Every time you walked into class, ready to inspire someone, yet they all seemed to want to run the other way.  It was always in the back of your head. What if you lost your job? You would get kicked out of South Korea for sure. You weren’t a citizen. You weren’t married to one… not even close…

   If you were sent back to the US, your parents would never let you hear the end of it. The “I told you so” s and reprimanding glares. The way they would no longer be able to brag about how brave and smart you were. It was eating away at you.

   Of course, you hadn’t told Joon all of this. His job was enough to keep him up for days without his girlfriend adding to the pile. You knew you should tell him what was really wrong, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You couldn’t tell him how crappy you’d been feeling without suddenly making the problem about you and not him and his much busier and more important life.

   It had been steadily building. The anger. The frustration. The guilt. That, coupled with Joon’s complete disdain of your touch, had your own stress going through the roof. you couldn’t even remember the last time he’d made out with you, let alone had any sort of intimate moment.

   So there you were. Frustrated. In far too many ways to count and no real way to fix it unless you wanted to do it yourself and honestly, you didn’t have enough alone time to actually try. As a result, you’d been scarfing down erotica fictions about your own boyfriend. The irony was not lost on you.

   The only problem was that now that you knew what he was like in real life, all the renditions of him were just a bit off. You found yourself rewriting the fiction as you went, trying to imagine what the real Joon would do in that situation. Some were too out there to even consider reading. Some too perverse even for you. Some were so far from the real life Namjoon that they made you laugh but this one, the one that you had been reading before your stupid phone glitched, was very close to what you would assume Namjoon would act like.

   The fake Namjoon was sweet. He was tender and called his girlfriend baby and jagi like he did to you almost exclusively in place of your name. He’d hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek multiple times softly just to remind her that he loved her.. He’d admire her hair and stared at her features as if committing them to his memory for later use. It was so purely Namjoon that it almost felt as if it was really him who had written it. Just for you. So you could have him when he was gone or unavailable. It had felt so real…

   “Too many papers to grade?”

His very much real voice jarred you once again from your thoughts. It seemed he’d been doing that a lot lately. Or maybe you were just dozing off too often.

   “Something like that,” you answered, crossing your arms over your chest. His oversized hoodie curling under your arms. You brushed a long braid over your shoulder with a satisfied grunt and let yourself slide onto the floor before you. Like his hoodie, you crumpled on the rug next to your phone which lay face down. Namjoon’s face winked up at you from one of the many photo cards of him you had and you couldn’t help but smile back at the miniscule Joon. You couldn’t help it. His smile made you smile. Too bad you hadn’t seen the real one in ages.

   Gentle footsteps resonated off the white walls. You didn’t move. Your eyes glued to the ceiling as they got closer and you let your arms fall limply to your side. His face appeared directly in your line of vision, the ghost of a dimple on his left cheek as he half smiled for what felt like the first time in years. He looked down at your unmoving form.

   “It’s got you all jelly like,” he said nudging your hip with his toes. You scrunch your nose in distaste.

   “Don’t poke me you dork,” you hissed, still not moving, having found a comfortable position.

   Namjoon rolled his eyes but sat down next to your head, his legs stretched out before him as he picked up the remote for the TV and went on Netflix. Within seconds you could hear the familiar music of your favorite franchise playing and you jerked unattractively to see.

   The coffee table was in the way.

   “Is that what I think it is,” you asked him, rolling your eyes to the back of your head to try to see him without moving.

   “Why don’t you move over so that you can see for yourself?”

    He patted his muscular thighs as an invitation. Did he want you to sit on him or lay your head on his legs?

   You straddled him. Your hands rested on his shoulders as his smile grew. He was getting hard. You could tell, but his face remained simply at ease.. As if you were the most gorgeous painting he had ever seen and his sole job was to admire you. The only signs of his arousal were his dilating pupils and the third leg in his pants.

   “Mmm,” you hummed looking back at the ceiling, “I’m kind of comfortable.”

   You heard him scoff and couldn’t help the slight smile that graced your lips at his disbelief that mingled with amusement.

   “Come on baby,” he groaned, “you’re going to turn down my thighs for the floor?”

   “I don’t want to move Namjoon,” you argued, breathing deep so that your chest rose high enough to see through the excess fabric on your body. You could sense his eyes on you. Or was that your own desire tainting your perception?

   “But… my thighs… and Harry Potter…” he whined. God, you loved it when he whined. Usually when you were being a huge brat and he turned into a puppy. It was delicious.  

   “But, the floor and my comfort,” you retorted, twitching your open fingers just for fun.

   “Jagiyaaaa,” he groaned, grabbing the hand you’d just moved. He pulled on it to get you to move closer. Your head hit the side of his leg that was mostly covered by his black shorts. The small trip had cleared your view to the TV and you smiled triumphantly.

   “Thanks Joon, now I can see,” you cackled as he let go of your hand and you turned on your side to see clearly. Professor Dumbledore had just started talking to a small cat with glasses.

               For a couple of minutes, you sat in silence and his annoyance seemed to return. Just as the floor was staring to get uncomfortable and you were regretting your stupid choice to stay on the floor and not his thighs, one of his hands dropped down onto your eyes, blocking your vision entirely.

   “Joon,” you said stiffly and you tried in vain to pry his… delectable… hands from your face.

   “You either lay on my lap and watch the movie with me, or not at all,” he joked as you continued to wrestle with his long fingers.

   “How am I supposed to get on your lap if you’re holding me down genius?”

   “Oh sorry,” he said, lifting his hand then used both of them to place your head on his right thigh. You begrudgingly settled yourself on his muscular leg, thought internally you were cheering, pulling your braids out from under your body and over his lap. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw him looking at your hair with innocent desire.

   “Jagi,” he said running his fingers over one of the braids that nearly touched the floor over his muscles, “can I play with your hair?”

   Namjoon ran a hand through your hair, sniffing it.

   “Jagi, you smell so good…” he said as he scratched your scalp lightly, “can I play with your hair?”

   You choked on your own saliva for a second. You couldn’t swallow and you brought your hand up to cover your lips in case you coughed but the moment passed and your skin flushed as you imagined the short story again.

   “Uh…ye-yeah. Go for it.”

   Namjoon hesitated but pulled the hair ties off the ends of your hair and very slowly and tenderly began to undo the knots that made up your Dutch braids. It would be frizzy when he was done but you could always throw it up in a bun later. Besides, this was one of those things that you just absolutely adored about Namjoon.

   He liked to play with your hair. It was soothing.. When you had mentioned it to Joon once as an anecdote that you enjoyed this action, he’d taken it upon himself to do it when he was sleeping over to help you drift off faster. He’d told you that he had an affinity for grooming people and the fact that you had mentioned that you enjoyed such ministrations made him excited.

   His fingers drew small circles near the front of your head as he finished unbraiding one side of hair. Your eyes drooped as he stopped his small drawings and started to undo the other braid.

   His fingers were skilled–there was no doubt about it–in many, many, ways, but maybe this was your favorite. You sighed, letting him massage your scalp as the movie played. You let your eyes close as the feeling of his hand on your head lulled you.

   After a few blissful moments you realized you were falling asleep and you jumped up, throwing his hand off your head and nearly hitting his chin with your skull.

   Joon’s eyes widened with surprise and confusion as he waited for an explanation. You smiled at the man before you cleared your throat and spoke.

   “I was falling asleep.”

   Namjoon relaxed his shoulder. He had been scared he’d done something wrong,

   “That’s okay baby. I just want you to relax,” he said, pushing your head towards his lap again but you pulled his hand away and straddled his lap before stretching your legs behind him and hooking your ankles together.

   “What are you doing,” he asked, his breath hitching as you rested your hands on his chest. You leaned into him slowly and rubbed your nose on his before nuzzling against his cheek.

   “It’s not fair that I’m the only one relaxing,” you answered, bringing his hand back up to your head and he sighed, tangling his fingers once again. You did the same, running your hand from the nape of his neck and up to his scalp.

   He let out a slow breath when you clutched at the strands and buried your head in his neck, running your lips over the skin there.

   He had a sensitive neck. Whether it was sensually or just on the daily, he loved neck kisses. So you delivered without complaint.

   As you pressed your lips softly on his pulse you couldn’t help but feel elated. Finally. He was letting you help. Finally, he was holding you like he used to. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask “why” as you usually would. You were too scared to shatter the moment. If all you got from him were caresses in your hair and all you got to give were kisses on his neck, then it would all be worth it.

   One of his hands began to draw on your mid to lower back and you couldn’t help but curl around his body. Tighter. Closer. If you could suddenly melt into him and become one, you would do it  in a heartbeat. But this was enough. For now.

   You lightly bit his neck in a couple of different places, letting your tongue lick small stripes in the same place before kissing the saliva away.  His breath deepened further. His hold on your body tightened as well, like he was trying to pull you into him. Both of his hands were splayed out on your torso. His fingers dig into the fabric of his hoodie on your body and his head lulled to the side so you could have better access.

   Elation filled you to the brim. To have him so pliant under your touch was all you could ask for. Him letting you take care of him; that’s all you wanted.

   You used the hand that had a grip on his hair to maneuver his head to meet your mouth.  You kissed up the tendon in his neck slowly, taking your time to appreciate his smooth skin.

   “Oh baby,” he groaned. His mouth was so close to your ear that his breath grazed the shell. A shiver ran up your spine as you kissed his jaw. You struggled to keep yourself present. It was about him. Not about you.

   “Jagiya,” he husked trying to move his head to try to kiss you. You held him firmly in place.

   He groaned again, this time in frustration. He wasn’t used to you taking control. It was always him who took the reins but the last thing he needed at this moment was to take care of you.

   “It’s okay baby,” you mumbled against his sideburns, “just let me take care of you.”

   You planted a soft kiss on his ear. You felt his body convulse. His legs began to fidget under your body. His hips bucked and his hands grasped at your waist as if to still you. It was too late. You could feel his arousal. Slowly, he was hardening as you continued to kiss and suck at his golden skin.

   “Wait wait,” he said, ripping you from his jugular and holding you at arms length. His breath was heavy, almost as if he had been running.  His pupils were dilated and his skin was flushed from his neck to the tips of his ears.

   Sinful. This picture of your boyfriend clearly turned on by the simplest stroke of your lips and fingers, was sinful. And Lord were you a sinner.

   You bit your lip, keeping a growl from ripping from your mouth. You could lose control. Maybe you were the one who was riled up. Your pulse thumped against your neck, your chest… your panties… it’s been too long. Much too long for your liking.

   “Wait for what,” you complained, clenching and unclenching your fingers in his lush locks. You ground your hips once down , pushing into his lap to create friction. He grunted, squeezing your waist to stop you from moving, but you wiggled and squirmed in his grasp managing to get a couple more strokes against his rapidly hardening erection.

   “Hold on,” he spat through gritted teeth, pushing you back and off his lap. The heat in your body seemed to pulsate in your veins as you watched him trying to catch his breath. His shorts were tented. His muscles flexed as if he was trying to stop his body’s reaction, his eyes lidded and his head heavy on his shoulders.

   You couldn’t understand why he had stopped you. He seemed to want it as much or maybe even a little more than you did.

   Suddenly, fear gripped you like a vice. The heat drained and in that moment, you felt stupid. How could you throw yourself at him like that? He’d asked you to stop and yet here you were pushing.

   You pushed yourself away from him a little more and hugged your legs to your chest and placed your forehead on your knees. Tears sprung into your eyes. You tried to keep them quiet but it was hard to breathe. Emotion consumed you. Just because his body reacted did not mean that he wanted what you did.

   Guilt flooded your head like a fog as you felt your body begin to shake. Maybe he just didn’t want you anymore. Maybe… maybe the couple of months that the two of you had as more than friends were enough for him. Maybe he realized that you were better as friends. That would explain his lack of affection. His lack of interest. That would explain his rut.

   “Whoa whoa, Y/N, what’s wrong? Why are you crying,” you heard his voice ask. His hand patting your head to try to get you to look up. You could feel your hair fanned around your arms and were grateful for the extra cover. You hated crying in front of people and he was no exception. In fact, you hated it even more.

   When you gave no answer, you felt him shift closer. He pulled your hair back into a makeshift ponytail . Air hit your burning cheeks but you refused to look at him.

   “Oh baby what did I do,” he asked but it didn’t seem aimed at you. You felt him press his own forehead to the back of your head. He nuzzled into your now frizzy hair and placed a gentle kiss. you felt your shoulder shake as you struggled to breathe.

   A sob escaped your lips and like a dam, it burst forward. It was ugly, to say the least. You hadn’t realized how much emotion you had been holding back. Hadn’t realized how bottled up you had been. Now you were paying for it.

   How embarrassing.

   “Y/N no,” he said, pulling at your legs and replacing them with this body. He wrapped his arms around your torso and settled your arms onto his shoulders. He cradled your head against his neck and kept his hand on the nape of your neck

   “Shhh baby it’s okay… it’s all going to be okay. Just tell me what I did. I’m so sorry…”

     How had you gotten here? How did you end up on the floor of your apartment with tears in your eyes when all you wanted was to kiss his stress away?

   You sat together like this for what felt like forever. Eventually, he pulled you back onto his lap. You assumed because it was more comfortable for hi than squatting on his knees.

   He didn’t ask again what it was that he did. He didn’t question the tears. Instead, he stroked your hair and kissed your cheeks while you calmed down. You felt guilty. You owed him an explanation but you could feel it in your bones that you wouldn’t be able to speak if you tried.

   Finally, you were able to breathe normally but you stayed in his arms for a couple seconds more in case he pushed you off again after he realized that you were feeling ok.

   You slowly pulled your head from his neck and searched around on the floor for one of the hair ties that he’d pulled from your hair earlier. There was one near your phone.

   You quickly tied your hair up and away from your tear stained face, letting the cool air conditioning hit your skin. Joon watched you, waiting on bated breath, but you didn’t want to talk.

   You let your hands rest on your own thighs as his hoodie sleeves covered your hands entirely. You must have looked pitiful. Hopefully you weren’t too red and puffy.

   You couldn’t bring yourself to get off of him so you simply sat waiting for him to break the silence. Maybe he had the same idea because he didn’t speak either. He let his hands fall to your hips and pressed softly into the flesh soothingly.

   You took a shaky breath trying to give yourself courage but- thank God- Joon beat you to it.

   “Baby… are you upset because I pushed you away? I just needed a second to cal down.”

          Baby? Would he still call you baby if he didn’t want to date you? Maybe he didn’t know how to end it and so he was trying to keep you from finding out that he wasn’t feeling it anymore. Baby. you remember when he first called you baby and even though it hadn’t been your favorite name to be called from previous lovers, when it had come from his lips, from his heart…it was different. It was praise. It made you feel warm and like you were glowing. Yet, this time, it was like he’d stabbed you with a heated knife somewhere below your ribcage.

          “If you don’t want me anymore you should just tell me,” your mouth said. Your voice sounded foreign. As if it had come from someone else. What you said surprised you almost as much as it surprised him. His eyes widened and searched your face.

          “Not-not want you,” he stuttered, a laugh barely concealed in his surprise, “are you kidding?”

          Ignoring your fear at how you appeared after your pity party, you snapped your head up to look at him. A small smile rested on his lips and the deeper of his dimples showed slightly. While there was worry behind his gaze, there was another emotion, deep within the brown of his eyes. It was mirth. He thought this was funny.

          “Namjoon,” you raised your voice, trying to keep your own smile at bay. You swatted at his arms and he feigned hurt.

          “What,” he yelled letting uncharacteristically dashing chuckles escape his lips, “You can’t expect me to think you’re being serious.”

          “I am being serious-“

          “Ahahaha,” his loud and somewhat funny laugh was back and with it your own smile. It felt like you hadn’t heard it in so long. Sure, he laughed when he was on run episodes or when he was with the boys but it seemed like around you, he was always down. It was nice to have him laughing even if it was at you.

          “Joon! Stop laughing, I’m not kidding!”

          He laughed even harder at that. His laugh reached a level of loudness that made your ears ring but you didn’t care. He looked happier than he had in weeks. You couldn’t help but chuckle along as he laughed until they subsided into snickers. All the while you continuously poked and pushed at his shoulders playfully.

          When he was finally composed enough to make direct eye contact, he cleared his throat and widened his pretty eyes at you as he tended to do after he heard a good joke. His smile was glued to his face as he rubbed circles into the hoodie.

          “Do you really think,” he couldn’t help but cough as he tried to stop another fit of laughter from escaping, “that I would ever, and I mean ever,” he paused, his fingers slipping down almost deafly to the hem of the hoodie you were wearing, “not want you?”

          You blinked at him as his eyes glittered, darkening impossibly so. It was like a switch was flicked and the small amount of lust that you’d seen before was back. Nimble fingers found their way under the oversized fabric on your body. His touch was slightly cold to the skin on your stomach. It sharply contrasted the heat that seemed to rush into your cheeks and your ears.

          “Well,” you managed with little to no effort, “it’s been weeks since I’ve so much as kissed you…” His index finger had found the lace of the bralette you were wearing. His thumb hooked under the soft edge and tugged at it slightly. Distracting. He was so distracting.

          “So-so I thought maybe it was something I had done,” you said in one breath as his thumb dug a little higher under the elastic that clung to your ribs to keep your breasts in place. Just in the nick of time too. Had he done it just one second earlier, you would have probably become mute for once in your life. A feat only Namjoon could achieve.

          “That’s on me,” he said suddenly halting his progressing fingers, his shoulders sagging, “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant lately.”

Namjoon rested his forehead on yours. His eyes shut tight as his apology fell from his pink lips.

          He stroked the section of skin under the pad of his thumb, the tip just barely brushing the underside of your breast. You felt a wave of heat rush through your body. Was it getting hot? Should you close the curtains?

          “I’ve just been stressed and I didn’t want to blow up on you. At the same time, well… I miss you and I feel the most comfortable around you. I don’t ever feel like I have to pretend that I’m alright. I didn’t mean to make you feel unappreciated.”

          When had his other hand found your bare waist? Had his voice distracted you? When had the rest of his fingers ended up under the soft lace of the bralette? Had his thumb traveled further?

         “I didn’t mean to…deprive you,” He whispered, forcing you forward to catch his low words. In hindsight, it was a trap. That’s exactly what he wanted but could you fight him when he sounded so delicious?

          Your thoughts were cut short when his hand on your chest shifted completely, cupping and gently squeezing. Your eyes widened, mouth dropping open in surprise. He gave another firm squeeze as his eyes squinted cutely, his high pitched giggle returning, like music to your ears as he leaned even closer and bumped his nose against yours.

          “Kim Namjoon,” you gasped but it was eaten up as he quickly connected his lips to yours in a spurt of short, chaste kisses that had you chasing after him. Frustration flooded your veins as he continued to pull away, leaving you wanting more and more the more he gave.

          Finally, having had enough, you grabbed his head with both of your hands and tilted it up slightly so you could kiss him properly. Forcing him to slow down. He would be in control soon enough. You should enjoy the power you had while you could.

          You forced your lips onto his. The kiss was soft, slow, passionate. He melted into it. He always did like when you took a hold of him in some way or another. Sinful, beautiful noises escaped his lips. His small moans seemed  to absorb into your pores. In turn you couldn’t help but answer each and every one of them. He nibbled on your bottom lip for a second, an action that you couldn’t get enough of and he knew, then went right back to sucking on your upper lip.

          “Fuck,” you could feel the arousal in your throat. He made you lose yourself. He made you forget where you were, who you were.

          “That’s right baby girl,” he groaned into your mouth as you licked his lips, “that’s exactly what I’m going to do to you.”

          You moaned. It was embarrassing how easily you could come undone under his ministrations. If you could kiss him for eons, you would. His lips were your favorite bit of him. He was so. Fucking. Good.

          “Baby please,” you groaned pulling at his lip with your teeth, “I want you…”

          “Shit,” he said, a gurgle of want bubbling from his throat. You shifted, trying to remind him of his hands on your body but what it did instead was remind you of another part of him that seemed almost as excited as you were.

          “Jagi,” he hissed, shifting his hips to get the same friction you’d just created, “do that again.”

          You pulled your lips from his, a thin strand of saliva connecting you. In any other situation, this would be gross, but in that instant, it only spurred you on more.

          “Yes sir,” you joked, winking at him as you rolled your hips against his half hard erection. A melody of noises fell from his blessed tongue. Lust was over taking you. Your eyelids became heavy. Your breath, shallow and hard.

          “You know that’s not what I want you to call me,” he hissed at you, his fingers on your chest picking at the nipple that had hardened at some point while you made out. You sighed, your tongue darting out to wet your parched lips but you knew that the thirst you were feeling could not be quenched this way.

          “Say my name,” he growled, twisting his finger and pulling at the sensitive skin. You were panting now, slowing your movements on his lap to enjoy his cares.

          You whimpered, pushing your chest into his hand, arching your back as you struggled to draw any breath.

          “Come on baby girl,” he pressed, his lips brushing against your neck. When had he gotten to your neck?

          “Just once,” he begged but you knew he wasn’t asking.

          “Make me ,” you gasped as he bit and sucked at your pulse. A smile tugged at your lips as you felt him stop and tense.

          He pulled his lips from your neck, a lewd squelch resonating in the empty apartment as he brought his eyes level with you. He withdrew his hand as well without even a warning and you whined, thought you knew this would happen as soon as you started to fight him. It was worth it though. You knew he always worked better under a little pressure.

          “Just what I needed to hear.”

          He shifted under you, locking your ankles behind his back. He then locked your hands behind his neck. You weren’t stupid. You could see where this was going. Now, Namjoon was obviously very smart. It was  obvious. But sometimes, on most occasions, he lacked the common sense to make proper choices.

          This was one of those times.

          “Hold on tight baby,” he winked, kissing your lips once more before pushing himself up by doing a bench dip with his knees bent. Namjoon had a lot of thigh and arm muscle. This much was true, but was he used to lifting both his body weight and your own? No.

          So when he started to shake under the joined pressure, it wasn’t a surprise. You would have laughed but Lord were you scared that he would fall, or drop you or hurt himself. Instead, you struggled to decide if you should be holding onto him for dear life or if you should fling yourself off him to avoid any major injury to either of you.

          The decision was taken from you as his left arm bent at a slightly awkward angle and his balance was thrown. Instinctively, you let go of him to brace yourself as the swooping sensation of falling gripped you with fear.

          You couldn’t tell exactly how it happened. Your eyes fell shut as you landed heavily on your side. Your elbow hitting first as you reached out to stop your momentum.

          “Ow,” you couldn’t help but groan as sharp pain shot through your arm. You heard Namjoon gasp near you but all you could see was stars. You began to giggle uncontrollably as tears streamed down your face.

          “Oh your God, Y/N are you alright,” he said, sitting you up with his strong arms. You couldn’t stop laughing. You’d hit your damn funny bone and in all honesty, this was a funny situation. Sex with Namjoon was nothing if not eventful and filled with awkward mishaps.

          “I’m fine,” you said through laughter, “i just hit my elbow.”

          You blinked away the tears in your lashes, looking up at the dope of a man that you were in love with. Worry was evident on his brows. He looked you over before taking your arm in his hand and examining the red mark where you had landed.

          “Does it hurt a lot? Do you think it’s broken,” he asked, touching it lightly but no pain was felt on your end. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was the fact that nothing, and you meant nothing- could stop you from taking this man in this very instant, but you couldn’t care less if your arm was broken. Hell, it could have been hanging off by a thread and you’d still want to have a quickie before we went to emergency care.

          Could you blame yourself? The man was gorgeous.

          This was, in fact, what you were focusing on at the moment. The way that his hair fell into his dark eyes. The way his jaw contrasted with his round cheeks. How his lips were slightly parted as he examined your arm with utmost delicacy. His shoulders. His neck. The veins in his muscular arms. His long… nimble…fingers…

          “Joon,” you snapped a bit harsher than you had meant to. His eyes shot up to meet yours, confused and shocked.

          “Did I hurt you…” he averted his eyes shyly, “More?”

          “Oh honey no,” you laughed, though this time you cut yourself off as you caught a glimpse of his hardening member under the loose shorts he was sporting, “I’m hoping you might though.”

          You weren’t much into pain and Namjoon knew this very well, but these words were enough to pull him back at what was at stake. You.

          “Are you sure,” he asked one last time, fighting with his own concern and sky rocketing arousal.

          “Very sure,” you said, pushing yourself up to your knees to kiss his cheek then ducking your head to kiss his neck.

          A shiver ran down his whole body. His eyes closed and squinted. His bulge twitched slightly and you couldn’t stop the smirk on your face. You reached out and ran a single finger over the tented area, drawing little circles as you worked your way to the tip.

          “Oh fuck,” he whispered gruffly wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pulling it away from his body. You giggled as he let his eyes fall open, a chastising spark in his pupils. Oh you were so going to get it.

          “Close the curtains,” he commanded and you shrugged, standing quickly and nearly yanking the curtains from the hinges.

          “Done. Now what?”

          “You seem a little eager to please,” He chuckled, standing from his place on the floor carefully. It must have been painful. He looked even harder now.

          “I always am. You know I’m a people pleaser.”

          He rolled his eyes but nodded at the stairs by your kitchen and with an excited hop, you ran towards them. Joon chased you, playfully swatting at your hips and behind every couple of steps. Your long hair bobbed with every step and your shoulders shook with every giggle. You tried to jump away from him but only half-heartedly. In truth, you loved his hands on your butt and you weren’t going to pass up some playful spanks.

          When you made it to the landing, you turned around. Namjoon was slightly shorter than usual due to him being one step behind you, so you took advantage, throwing your arms around his neck as he took the last step. As if he was on the same wavelength, he reached down, grabbing at your thighs and settling them around his hip.

          You giggled again, excitement and something a little purer flooded your system. His lips met yours unceremoniously, nipping and sucking light heartedly while you smiled into him. The scent of something flowery hit your nose and you realized he must have used some of his Chanel number five lotion. It strangely suited him well.

          Finally, you reached your bed. He climbed on carefully, setting you on your back. He pulled away and blinked at you. Your stomach fluttered at his expression. There was a softness on his features that you never saw with anyone else. A love that you couldn’t quite describe but couldn’t ignore.

          He let go of your leg to stroke at your cheek with the back of his hand. Pure, undeniable warmth surged through you at his touch. Your smiles match in intensity and adoration. It was weird. Maybe no one could understand it. How intimate sex truly was to you. Especially with the reputation that your boyfriend had of being a sexual deviant, but the truth was that while he was naturally very attracted to the human body, sex had a special meaning to him. It wasn’t something that he gave away easily. It was an expression of his trust and love. It was nearly never self-serving, and almost always to focus on you and your needs. He was a giver, contrary to popular belief.

          You buried your hand in his hair and pulled him to your lips, savoring the taste of strawberry Chapstick as if it would be the last time that you could ever do so. Not even for a breath of air did you pull away as he hooked his thumbs over the edge of the hoodie and slowly began to bunch it up around your chest.

          Cool air hit your warming skin, his touch only furthering the experience. Every nerve in your torso was in flames, the pulse between your legs growing stronger by the second. Like it was yelling at you to give it the attention it searched for. Namjoon angled his pelvis up so you could feel his own pulse against your own. His member twitched as he shifted his hips from side to side ever so slight, your legs still wrapped tightly around him. You couldn’t stand the thought of him being any farther from you than a couple of centimeters.

          Just as the thought crossed your mind, he pulled away from the kiss, his hands both at the lace edge of your bra now. His gaze darkened as you whined, chasing his sweet lips but he kept himself out of reach with a pleased smirk.

          “Joonie,” you groaned trying to pull his head back to you but he only rolled his eyes before prying a hand from his hair almost reluctantly, entwining his fingers with yours and kissing the back of your hand softly. He smiled and placed it over his chest, where you could feel his speeding heart. It pounded against his ribs at the same speed as your own. In sync, in one harmonious song.

          You relaxed a bit at the gesture. His heartbeat always had that effect and he never failed to use it to control you in the sweetest way possible. Your chest rose and fell dramatically as he memorized your features.

          “Can this come off,” he asked, tugging once more at the fabric of the sweater you stole. You smiled at him knowingly and nodded.

          “If you take it back after we’re done, I’m going to be upset,” you half joked as he placed tiny pecks on each knuckle and one last kiss on the back of your hand before he dropped it next to your head and took the hem of the hoodie with both hands.

          “Hands over your head,” he said, the slightest bit of authority in his command. Obediently, or maybe it was because you were so keen to please, you shimmed your hands over your ponytail and arched your back to make it easier for him to pull it off.

          He was cautious not to get it stuck on your ears, or to pull on your hair. Too many times had he accidentally snagged an article of clothing on an earring or accidentally tangled your hair into the fabric. He’d learned that lesson, as he more than likely learned not to try to stand up with you in his lap earlier.

          Once you were free of the fabric, he balled it up, smirked at you, then tossed it over to a pile of stuffed animals that you had set up on a small table. You had one from each tour he had gone to from every country they visited. In case you missed him he’d send you one from wherever he was so you could imagine being with him. It was such a sweet thought and a tradition you looked forward to.

          Namjoon kissed your nose faintly, bringing your attention back to him. You gave him a tight-lipped smile, his hands not dilly dallying any further. Instead he rested them directly on top of your breasts, squeezing, just enough to remind you what you were doing. What you were craving.

          “ Y/N,” he groaned, looking at the way his hands engulfed the hills on your chest. It was a reminder. You didn’t have huge breasts but neither were they tiny, and the way that his hands seemed to be the perfect size to hold each, only served to recap how big his pretty hands were.

          “I love you in lace,” he gasped, thrusting his hips against the heart of your femininity. You choked on a moan. He was so stiff, and the combined warmth of your bodies seemed to radiate into the air.

          “You’re blushing, beautiful,” He said against your neck. There was no denying it. Not only could he clearly see the tint of red on your skin, but he could also feel it against his lips.

          “Shut up,” you complained, twirling a strand of hair between your fingers as he nibbled on your burning skin. He  let a hand trace up to your chin. His thumb parting your swollen lips and pressing against your tongue. He wasn’t fond of you telling him what to do.

          “It’s pretty, baby,” he kissed a hickey into your neck loudly, “You know I love it when your skin flushes under my touch.”

          There was a hidden question in this statement. He was asking you if this is what you wanted out of this encounter. To turn pink under his hand. It wasn’t new. He’d done it to you on many an occasion and it was as enjoyable to you as it was to him.

          “You know I like it too,” you said shyly, glad that he couldn’t see how much blood rushed to your cheeks at the thought of what could happen next.

          His manhood twitched against your core, his breath hitched. He could read you like a book, or maybe he had you memorized. Either way, he pulled your legs from his body and pulled you to sit up. In a matter of seconds he had pushed you to the edge of the bed, stood you up and sat you on his toned thighs. Confusion clouded your mind. The other times that something of this sort happened in the bed room, you were across his lap not on it. In all honesty, you weren’t sure how this would work with the way he had positioned you.

          Namjoon was a man with a plan. He wasted no time in scooting you back until his shoulders were pressed against the wall.

          “Joon, what are you-“

          “Lay down,” he said, pushing you forward as he parted his legs. Your head facing towards his feet, your face in the comforter. You put your arms under your head to support yourself as Namjoon pulled your legs around his hips once more.

          That’s when it became all clear. Before you could process what was happening, he tugged at your leggings, pulling them down to about your midthigh. Cool air hit your behind and you couldn’t help the shiver that traveled up your spine.

          “Pink panties ,” he whispered so hoarsely that it was almost unintelligible, “My favorite color on you, did you wear this for me?”

   You took a deep breath, forcing courage into yourself before you said, “No, it’s for my other boyfriend .”

         He stiffened at the sarcasm but quickly relaxed knowing that you were just trying to rile him up. One, slender finger drew a small heart on your right butt cheek. You could almost hear his smile as he inhaled. His brain whirling with possibility.

          “Cheeky,” he joked, patting the spot he’d just traced on. The sound of skin on skin making your mind blurry with desire.

          You snorted, because, come on. That’s a good joke and he chuckled.

          “You know what happens when my baby gets mouthy…don’t you baby?”

          You hummed, loving your little banter. It was lucky that your face was firmly between your arms or maybe he’d see your mind working to sass him.

          “I don’t think that was mouthy,” you shrugged. His index finger found its way under the elastic of the panties on your body. You licked your lips in anticipation but nothing happened. Disappointment began to settle in right before you felt him tug it up then without warning, released it.

          The sharp snap of pain panged through the skin on your butt and lower back. You hissed as he pushed into the place the elastic dug. It was a start. A damn good one at that.

          “Maybe not, but I get to be the judge of that,” he said plucking the elastic up on the opposite side of your hip, “and I think that you’re mouthy.”

          Snap.  

           You groaned but adrenaline had started to kick in and arousal was pooling between your legs.

          “Turn me around,” you mumbled, enjoying the sting against your skin as he pressed into the area your underwear hit, “I’ll show you just how mouthy I can be.”

          “Fuck,” he spat, smacking your right butt cheek and yanking your hair just for his own added pleasure. The noise resonated in the large, partially empty, apartment. A gasp escaped your lips.

          “Maybe later,” he reasoned, hitting the left one this time a little harder than the last, “first, i want to see my handprint on your ass.”

          Two more fast slaps to your right cheek followed by one to your left. You clenched around nothing feeling the burn start to take over. His hand delivered delicious blows each time.

          “What-“ spank, “happened to-“ spank, spank, “pink?”

          “I’ve decided that you deserve more than just pink. What with that filthy mouth of yours.”

          “Filthy,” you mock gasped as he slapped one side multiple times quickly. So quickly, you couldn’t even count and your skin was starting to get numb.

          “You didn’t seem to have a problem with my mouth last time it was around your-” three more slaps and then a snap of the elastic of your underwear was enough to shut you up. A moan gurgled into your mouth that you barely held back. Namjoon rubbed the sting into the panging skin. His finger now felt cold against you and you knew you must be peachy at the very least. Cherry red at the worst. Judging by his giggle, you were somewhere in between.

          “Don’t laugh at me, you jerk,” you groaned, feeling your face flush as he ran a finger over your clothed slits. You shuddered in anticipation.

          “I love how you react to the simplest touches,” he mumbled, running his finger over and over the damp underwear, “You’re a little wet baby.”

          You could tell he wanted you to say something but you couldn’t bring yourself to voice a single thing. When you said nothing he continued.

          “Maybe we should get rid of these,” he slipped a finger under the side for a second, before pulling it out and grabbing your hips.

          “Or maybe,” he shifted himself pushing his manhood against your center, “we could just push these aside…”

          He pulled you back onto him, the friction heavenly to you both. A sinful, melodious moan left his lips. He was getting desperate but if you knew your boyfriend, he could draw this out for much, much longer and you…you were in no rush.

          “Or maybe,” you countered pushing yourself up and away from the bed sheets, “you could put my ‘filthy’ mouth to some use,” you threw a cautious look over your shoulder only to see his mouth hanging open in surprise and his fluffy cheeks flushing a pale pink.

  ��       “What’s wrong baby,” you asked with a smirk looking down at your touching centers then back at his eyes, your lip between your teeth, “cat got your tongue?”

          His eyes sparkled as he looked between you where you connected through fabric. You could almost see him salivate. You’d heard of this before your relationship with Namjoon. You’d heard of men loving to please a woman. You had heard of the way some men drooled at the thought but never had you experienced it. That is, unti the first time Namjoon disrobed you and he’d licked his lips and buried his face between your legs.

          And here it was again. That look. Feral. Primal. Thirsty. It was, so absolutely sexy. But this was not what you had in mind.

          In an instant, Namjoon rolled you off of him, shifting himself on his hands and knees. You adjusted yourself against the pillows of the bed, your chest heaving as he tore his shirt from his body as if it was burning him. He threw it on the floor next to the bed then turned his attention back to you, “Take it off.”

          “Take what off,” you asked genuinely not sure but his quirked eyebrow made you swallow the little saliva in your mouth and strip your bralette and underwear in a matter of seconds. You weren’t in the mood to be deprived of an orgasm after a couple of weeks hiatus.

          You propped yourself up a bit higher, your legs squeezed shut in slight embarrassment. You crossed your arms under and slightly over your breasts to cover your pert nipples. It had been a while, and it kind of felt like it was the first time he’d seen you naked even though, in the back of your mind, you knew he’d seen it plenty before.

          Namjoon’s chest rippled in the dim light, his arms, so toned and silky, flexed as he held himself up, devouring every inch of skin he could see. His tongue darted out to lick his plush lips. A shock of thrill went directly to your core. You had memories of that tongue in other places.

          “i’ve missed you baby girl,” he said, grabbing your ankles and pushing them apart so he could take a look at what lay in between. When his eyes landed on your slit, it was like he’d been sedated. His shoulders relaxed, his jaw slacked and his elbows buckled slightly.

          “Finally,” he grumbled, jumping at your body. He kissed your lips passionately, ripping your arms from your chest and entwining his fingers with yours to pin them to the bed on either side of you. You spread your legs even wider to accommodate his torso.

          He pressed his hips into your sex. The texture fabric of his shorts rubbed up against the little nub that was begging to be touched.

          You moaned into the kiss as his tongue found its way into your mouth. You were hot. So hot. You were burning up. Maybe it was the way that you could feel his erection so firmly between your legs. You couldn’t tell. But you were so freaking hot.

          “Fuck baby,” he groaned against your chin, kissing down your neck sloppily. Trails of saliva  followed as he made it to your chest. He wasted no time in taking one of your eagerly awaiting nipples in his mouth. He lightly nibbled and sucked on the sensitive flesh. His tongue was weirdly talented, even though he hadn’t had many girlfriends before you.

           You usually attributed it to his rapping skills as he had so eloquently put it one time when you, in the heat of the moment, asked him how he could possibly be this good.

          “You’ve heard of what guitarists can do with their hands? This is what rappers do with their tongues.”

          He pulled away from your chest, kissed the nipple, before he blew on it just a tiny bit. He drove you crazy and he knew it. Your eyes rolled into your head. God, you missed him.

          “Joon…if you don’t touch me, I swear-”

          “Baby,” he cut you off again, “I think it’s been too long. You’re forgetting who,” you looked down as his hands grabbed onto the inside of your thighs, “is in charge.”

          You opened your mouth to protest but his own mouth dove right into the folds between your legs kissing with an open mouth and you shut your lips instantly.

          “Fuck,” you said, trying to close your legs but his strong arms kept you open, vulnerable before him.

He lapped at your clitoris with just the very tip of his tongue. He drew shapes and letters. He must have spelled words even, in hangul by the way that his tongue was moving and you just lay there, shivering under his touch.. He really was a talented rapper if what he was doing was any indication.

          He mumbled something against your core, and it sent a vibration of pure delight through your body. You clenched around nothing and let a whine escape your lips. This was not supposed to be about you, but were you a horrible person for suddenly not caring?

          “Wh-what,” you asked, as waves of pleasure surged through your body, his plush lips clamping around the little nub between your legs and sucking gently.

          He withdrew his lips with a lewd squelch and you wrinkled your nose at it. Disappointment surged through you before his voice did.

          “I said,” he licked a long, wide stripe from bottom to top, his eyes firmly on your shocked and blissed out face, “so good.”

          You had no words. You floundered for any semblance of coherent sounds but nothing came to mind. How did sentences work again? Did your voice come from your lips?

          You bit the corner of your bottom lip as he gently kissed around your labia. He let go of your thighs, and used his index finger and thumb on both hands to spread you open. His eyes were greedy, excited. It was like someone had offered him some cotton candy or made him some of that expensive drip coffee he liked. He looked, hungry.

          Without your response, he once again kissed the now very visible and pulsating nub that was filled with blood from arousal. The sensation made your shoulders both relax and tense at the same time. Noticing your reaction, he chuckled, and stuck his tongue out sharply. Without hesitation, he licked back and forward a couple of times. Your legs shook and you had the instinct to clamp them closed but you forced yourself to keep them apart and bent.

          Within seconds, you felt your climax nearing. After a few rounds in this same position, he’d figured out exactly what to do to make you finish. You could still remember telling him when he had first suggested trying this particular act that no one had ever made you finish from just eating you out and not to feel bad if you didn’t climax, but he was determined and after a first time “failure”  -which was relative because what he had done felt great but he felt it wasn’t a success until you came- he set himself to research and was eventually, the first man to make you come in this way.

          It was safe to say that it had gone to his pretty little head. Maybe this was why he liked to do this so much. It was something purely his. Something he could proudly call himself a pioneer of and he was so damn good at it.

          “Joonie,” you whimpered, pulling on his hair tightly so he would slow down, but it was like he knew, and he probably did know, that you were close.

          He doubled his efforts, holding you apart, vulnerable to his talented tongue. You threw your head back. The pleasure was almost too much. Too powerful. The thought that it was Namjoon between your legs making you see stars was almost enough to push you over the edge.

          “Come on gorgeous. i know you want to cum,” he mumbled quickly, going back to the motion he had before with a slight bit more pressure.

          Maybe it was because he pointed it out, or maybe it was because you really were needy, but you did. You felt your body tense almost to the point of discomfort then like a dam filled with water, the pleasure burst, leaving you moaning his name as he lapped at the wetness that still coated your womanhood.

          “Namjoon please oh God,” you whined, trying to pull him off but he wasn’t slowing down.

          Overstimulation was quickly taking over. Your body shivered violently. This time, your legs did snap closed on his head but he didn’t seem to care. He let go of your labia and pried your thighs apart, sucking your clitoris into his mouth harshly.

          Tiny whimpers escaped your lips. It was like you were watching it happen rather than having it done to you. You couldn’t think. Your body acted of its own accord, reacting to every lick and slurp of your boyfriend’s perfect mouth as if on autopilot.

          “Namjoon, it’s too much ,” you begged but he only chuckled and brought a hand closer to your center.

          “I can’t have my sexy girlfriend thinking that I don’t want her anymore,” he said against your skin, “gotta show you how much I need you, baby girl.”

          You gasped, as a finger circled your entrance. The pads of his fingers were a little rough and the texture felt amazing against your sensitive middle. Without warning, he dipped the finger in. You were so wet at that point that his finger met no resistance and he instantly plunged a second finger after it.

          As if he had been trained his whole life for pleasing just you, he found your g-spot near instantly. A small scream of gratification left your swollen lips as he pressed against it over and over and over.

          It wasn’t long before you were at the edge again. Delirious. Desperate for release once more. The pain of over stimulation, long gone and replaced by hyper awareness and desire.

          “I think I’m going to-“

          Stolen from your lips were the words as you clenched around his finger and twitched under his touch. This time, he helped you ride it until goosebumps decorated your skin and when you tugged at his hair once more, he withdrew his head and his hand from your abused core.

          It was a couple of minutes before you were able to properly breathe. Your chest heaved. You could have just ran a mile in six minutes flat with the exhaustion that filled your bones to the brim. When you could finally think clearly, you pushed yourself up and looked for your boyfriend.

          He was waiting patiently on his knees between your own. His face, from his nose to his chin, glistened with the wetness that could only come from between your legs. His chest was bare, and a light sheen of sweat seemed to coat it. He too was breathing heavily but you could tell buy a single glance at his shorts, that he was nowhere near done.

          “Nam-mjoon,” you said, your voice wavering, earning you a giggle from the cute boy before you, “I was  supposed to suck you off. Not have you eat me out…”

          Your arms felt heavy as well as your legs. If you let yourself, you could fall asleep right then but you forced the tiredness away as you looked at Namjoon’s puppy eyes.

          “Do you want me to,” you asked, bracing yourself for his answer. This might be the worst blow job you ever give but if he wanted your lips around him, you would happily oblige.

          “Y/N, you look like you could fall over at any second. i think having you fall asleep around your co-“

          “Joon!”

          He rolled his eyes at your outburst. you always felt a bit strange about him being vulgar when it came to certain body parts but he usually ignored your please and said what he wanted. Today was no different.

          “…cock…would be a blow to my confidence not to my dick.”

          You giggled at his joke and sat up a little straighter. Usually, you would fight him. you hated not reciprocating and especially now that it had been so long since you had a proper night together but there was a real possibility that you could hurt him so you didn’t push on the blow job and made a mental note to award him one at a later date.

          “Okay, fine…but can we at least…” you paused, feeling a blush rush to your cheeks at what you were going to ask.

          “At least?”

          “Don’t make you say it,” you begged, getting on your hands and knees and crawling over to sit on his still, annoyingly clothed lap.

          He helped you settle on his legs and held onto your thighs to keep you close. you could feel his erection as hard as ever. It must be painful at this point. You ground your hips just once and he winced. Yeah, he was far too gone.

          You reached up to his lips and wiped some of your own slick from his skin with your thumb. You felt a bit bad at how covered he was. You wiped the thumb on his shorts at which he frowned before you reached up and kissed him softly. The taste of you on his lips was strange. You could never really tell how you felt about it but if one thing was for sure, you were lucky to have such a wonderful boyfriend.

          You managed to lick and kiss most of the moisture from his mouth before he spoke again.

          “Can I make love to you?”

          You blinked up at him, surprised. At this point, maybe you shouldn’t have been. He knew you like the back of his hand, or maybe even better than that. You mentally thanked him for saving you the awkwardness of asking for it and nodded your head vigorously.

          His dimples made an appearance as he very suddenly pulled you towards him and on to your back. You squealed, giddy to finally feel him inside you after so long. He let go of your legs and quickly, and might you add, very ungracefully, pushed his shorts and underwear off in one swoop.

          His shaft sprung up. The tip was a deep red and it leaked precum. You couldn’t help but lick your lips. It was thick and long. The kind of thing that you would expect to see in art or in paintings. It was ethereal. Delectable. How could you have let yourself be deprived of this view for so long?

          In an instant, you remembered the feeling of him inside you and your head reeled. If you remembered correctly, this was going to be a stretch.

          Namjoon climbed over you in the blink of an eye. You could tell he was excited because, well it was just something you knew. It was radiating from his body like an aura.

          “Do you think you’re ready,” he asked, kissing your forehead, then your hairline, ever so gently. He peppered kisses all over your face as a smile graced it. You grabbed a hold of his face in both hands and forced him to kiss your lips, which he did without argument.

          “You are too cute Joonie baby,” you mumbled against his lips before you let a hand trail down his toned chest, over his muscular but undefined abs and finally wrapped around his hardened member.

          His smile faltered for an instant, his erection twitched in your hand. You gave it a couple of slow and lavish pumps. You could see the fine hairs on his body stand on end at the sensation and you couldn’t help but giggle.

          “You’re killing me here,” he choked out through gritted teeth.

          “I’m sorry Joonie,” you lied, keeping your pace slow, “I just want to make sure that you’re ready as well.”

          You took his bottom lip between your teeth and sucked at it as you squeezed a little tighter around his rod still at the unbearable pace you had set. His body reacted accordingly. Shiver after shiver ran down his spine and his chest convulsed. Had he not jerked off either? He was so wound up.

          “Baby girl, please just let me get in there… I can’t take much more of this,” he whispered against your jaw, leaving a wet kiss before connecting his eyes to yours. you smiled kindly and aligned him with your entrance.

          As soon as you touched his tip to your middle, his shoulders seemed to tense further and you let go, letting him take over.  As if he had read your mind, he gently began to push himself deeper. Was it payback for jerking him off so slowly, or was he scared to hurt you? He was inching his way in so incredibly slow. you could feel every vein in his member, every stroke against your walls. It was both horrible, and amazing all at once.

          Finally, he bottomed out and despite how wet you were from your two orgasms, you felt tears prick your eyes. It had definitely been too long and you weren’t just talking about his member.

          You could feel it in your stomach and he pushed down your lower abdomen just so you could feel it better. This was another thing he was proud of. No one had gone as deep as him. He was by far, the longest and girthiest you had ever had and he always made sure you remembered it.

          A groan left his lips as he shifted his hips so you could feel him move inside of you. He wiped a tear away from your cheek and kissed the trail it had left behind.

          “You feel that baby girl,” he asked gently, “that’s all for you. Only for you.’

          He began to pull out at the same pace that he had impaled you and you whimpered, wanting…no needing more. He was almost fully pulled out before he slowly began to push back in.

          Namjoon grabbed the hand that had been jerking him off and replaced his hand on your stomach with it. Then that hand came up and gently gripped around your neck. Your heart skipped a beat.

          “How does that feel baby? Does it hurt?”

          “Yeah,” you nearly screamed and he stopped mid thrust. You could see the fear in his eyes as he looked all over your face for some sign of what he had done wrong.

          “It hurts because you’re going way too slow you doof,” you clarified, and he instantly relaxed.

          “You scared me, Y/N.”

          “Joonie please move faster,” you begged, ignoring his previous statement.

          He sighed which shook a little as your walls contracted around his length. His grip on your neck tightened with your muscles and a shock of pleasure ran through your stomach. You let an unsteady moan escape your lips which was swallowed up as he leaned down, his sex still only about a quarter of the way in, and traced your lips with his tongue.

          You clenched around him once again. He bit your upper lip roughly, then kissed it and your nose lightly. It was so confusing. The way he could be sickeningly sweet and at the same time be torturing you with his hands and his length. The mix of emotion made a fog in your head that kept you from seeing what was coming next.

          “I’ll move my love,” he whispered against the shell of your ear. Goosebumps erupted all over your body. You let your eyes shut to better appreciate all of the pleasure you were receiving , intoxicated with the scent of his skin, and the way that his voice floated into your ear.

          “If you say my name,” he whispered, licking the cartilage nearest his lips.

          You knew it would come to this. You’d been too mouthy. Too self-righteous. It had been a long time since we’d shared a bed this way and you let your eagerness and desperation get the best of you. Now, you were truly going to have to pay for it. That is, if you kept up your refusal to give him what he wanted. Would you really want to risk getting denied an orgasm just to keep up your brat routine?

          An mortified blush covered your cheeks up to your forehead. It wasn’t that it made you uncomfortable. It was a turn on to you too, but there was something embarrassing about calling him something so deeply fetishized. It sounded strange coming out of your mouth and made you cringe, but you knew that if you just gave him what he wanted, we would both be satisfied.

          “Yes daddy,” you whimpered.

          It happened in a millisecond. His hand squeezed around your windpipe, he bit down on your ear and he thrust his hip hard against your core.

          A muted cry was ripped from your vocal cords. His tip hit just as deep as it had the first time. You could feel it in your stomach. You never really thought that could be possible but here you were, and you couldn’t have been more wrong.

          Like a switch was flipped, he pounded into the wet mouth of your arousal, the slickness helping to keep it mostly painless. Still, the burn couldn’t be stopped as he stretched you farther than any fingers could. Moans fell from your lips like prayers. Namjoon grunted every time his hips met yours. A lewd clapping bounced off the walls.

          There was no stopping him now. It was like a magic word and you knew that as soon as you’d said it, there was no going back.

          Namjoon used the hand not around your neck to hold himself up and over you. Beads of sweat had started to form on his hair line with the effort he was exerting. A sexy wrinkle formed between his eyebrows as he squeezed his eyes shut. His breaths were coming out hard, and loud. He sounded like he was running a race and he was pushing himself to the end. It was music to your ears. Sounds more appealing than any symphony or singer you had ever heard.

          Maybe you had zoned out, because when you zoned back in, your voice was mixed in with his. His real name was mixed in with shouts of “more” and “don’t stop”. You knew that later, after it was all said and done, the noises you were making would haunt you, but in the moment, you pushed away your insecurities and focused on the feeling of being full.

          “Yes,” you gasped as he hit your g-spot, repeatedly on the way in and out. Gratification was flowing through you like a river.

          “Yes what Jagi,” Namjoon asked, readjusting himself onto his knees so he didn’t have to hold himself up.

          He grabbed onto one of your breasts and gave it a light squeeze before he flicked the nipple. Question forgotten, your breath caught in your throat but he abandoned your chest in favor of something lower. He traced lines into your stomach. Designs he’d come up on the spot that you’d have to remaster into a design of some sort if you still remembered them after you were done. It was beautiful. The way that you made love.

          Beautiful, how you  mixed together. A beautiful color that couldn’t be store bought or mass produced. It was you. Purely, and unequivocally you.

          You choked as his wandering hand found your clit once more, rubbing tight and precise circles. It was too much, and he knew this. His fingers on your pulse point, his index on your sensitive bud, and his member inside you. It was everything you could ask for, and when your body froze, tense from his caress, it was no surprise to either of you.

          “Namjoon,” you gasped as your walls convulsed around him, his speed even. It was getting harder to breath and it wasn’t because of the pressure on your windpipes but because once again, over stimulation was setting in. You winced as he pumped in and out at an inhumane speed. It was crazy. How could he hold himself off this long.

          “I’m almost there baby, where do you want me,” he asked, his voice hoarse and deep and gravely.

          “In-in me… I want you in me Joonie,” you panted.

          Was it slightly inconvenient to have his ejaculation inside you? Yes. Was it nice to be so wet after we had sex? No. Did you give a single crap in that moment? No. No,you didn’t. All you knew was that you needed him. You needed to feel like you were his and like before, this was something that only he had ever done to you and it made it special.

          As if that was all that he was waiting for, Namjoon stilled. His erection twitched inside you and then he came. He spilled into you. Hot and thick. you couldn’t help but let your eyes roll back into your head as his ejaculation dripped from your entrance. You squeezed around him just to try and help and were rewarded with a grunt of satisfaction.

          “Fuck Y/N,” he huffed, removing his hand from your neck and your core to help steady him. His length had started to soften and you could tell that, much like you, he was exhausted.

          He pulled out, wincing as the cold air hit his member.You, in turn, grimaced as his cum dripped down your thighs. You’d have to wash the bed sheets today.

          Namjoon laid down beside you. Your body bounced as he adjusted his body. He draped an arm around your waist, cuddling into your side. Your bodies stuck together. Sweat, and well…other liquids clung to your skin.

          You allowed yourself to relax into him for a couple of minutes. Your breathing pattern evened before you sighed happily and pushed him off of you. Namjoon whimpered as you carefully swung your legs over the edge of your bed. The uncomfortable feel of something flowing out  of you made you shiver.

          “Where are you going,” he asked in Korean. His tone whiney and you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at him over your bare shoulder. His eyes were big and a small frown decorated his lips. He was too cute to handle.

          You planted a kiss on his frown before you turned back to the edge of the bed to press your legs together. Maybe it would stop the ejaculate.

          “I need to shower,” you reasoned, bracing yourself, knowing you would have to run to the restroom if you wanted to avoid having to mop the floor again.

          “Can’t we cuddle for a little while,” Namjoon begged but you just shook your head dreading what you knew was to come.

          “After we shower, yeah.”

          You felt him sit up behind you. He gently kissed your shoulder and wrapped his strong…muscular…arms…

          You blinked at his muscles around you like a deer in headlights but shook your head. You could still feel how tired your muscles were from what you had just done. You couldn’t do it this soon again.

          “Can I at least shower with you,” he asked, nuzzling into the back of your neck.

          “Yes, of course,” you said, reaching behind yourself and scratching his head. You felt him, rather than saw him, relax against your back and you smiled.

          “Are you less stressed,” he asked you and you sighed.

          “I feel alright, Joonie. Could you tell I was really stressed?”

          You turned to look at him. He had a knowing smirk on his face that made your blood boil and embarrassment pool in your belly. He grazed his lips over the damp skin that spanned under his finger and when he spoke, it was against the nerves on your body that stood on end for him.

          “You talk in your sleep sometimes,” he said matter-of-factly. You sighed. Given away by your subconscious.

          “Oh.”

          “Besides, I have been watching you grade papers. You get this cute little fold between your eyebrows when you’re thinking too hard,” he rested a finger against your forehead where he indicated and massaged it in little circles. You let your shoulders fall. Who did you think you were kidding?

          “I see… well I’m feeling a little better. Hopefully I can get some ideas to get my students to be more interested now that I’m not so wound up.”

          “You’re a fantastic teacher,” Namjoon reasoned stroking your slightly messy hair, “you’ll figure it out.”

          “Yeah… I know you’re right,” you sighed letting a comfortable silence fall between you. Your brain was buzzing once again but this time it wasn’t stressful. It was with ideas for your classroom. You smiled, feeling a weight being lifted from your shoulders.

          “I’m sure I’ll come up with something,” you shifted the conversation, “what about you? Any sudden inspiration for your lyrics?”

          He didn’t speak and his chest tensed behind you. You felt like you had popped the bubble you were in. you should have kept your mouth shut.

          “Yes actually,” he said but it didn’t feel directed at you. Within seconds, he’d let go of your body and was up, pulling on his boxers and looking for his phone. He frantically pulled up the notes app on it and typed furiously.

          The shock quickly melted into amusement. You giggled at how his fingers slid over the glass screen. His focus on his cell.

          “Well I’m glad I could help,” you said, finally standing up. you felt the liquid inside you shift and with a panicked last look at your inspired boyfriend, you ran to the restroom on the first floor.

          “I’ll be in the shower. Have fun writing,” you yelled.

           You thought you heard him say something but it was too muffled for you to understand. You didn’t wait for him to meet you in the bathroom. Instead, you jumped in,washing between your legs thoroughly and scrubbing your skin. When you were done, Namjoon was sitting on the floor of the living room. His laptop, journal and phone spread out on the coffee table. He had his airpods in and he was bobbing his head to something you couldn’t hear.

          You didn’t interrupt. Instead you looked over his makeshift workstation and smiled.  His journal was turned to one of the pages of lyrics that he’d been stuck on for months. Fresh ink rested on the browning lines and my heart soared. Turned out that our bad moods and mutual slumps were directly related to our lack of sexual life. Duly noting that fact, I kissed the top of his head and made my way back upstairs to get my bed sheets to wash, a smile plastered on my lips.

[downwiththeficness]

In the Bond-Chapter 21

Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.

Word Count: ~4,100

Warnings: Gore, violence, knife play, blood play, blood drinking, smut

A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.

Taglist: @symbiont13

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To be fair, Lilah had definitely not been expecting the explosion. Sitting at the bar, nursing a bourbon with a single cube of ice, she had been scrolling through her phone while she waited for Brasa to be done with his meeting. The meetings were endless—finance, marketing, general council, outreach—they all meshed together, one right after the other, until she stopped keeping track.

When the elevator door opened and the bomb went off, Lilah had experienced something more than surprise—shock, possibly. Her ears were ringing, the left side of her body bleeding, shrapnel embedded in her arm and leg. She couldn’t speak, could barely see over the dust and smoke.

It took four attempts before Lilah could stand, her limbs refusing to obey the commands of her brain. She leaned heavily against the bar and looked around. The booths nearest to the elevator were destroyed, along with a few of the tables. The bar top was shattered at the far end, glass from liquor bottles dusting the broken wood. The bar tender’s torso was torn in half, the top end blown into the shelves behind the bar.

The more she looked, the more Lilah was overcome with the sight of scattered bodies, staff and visitors, alike. She wobbled on her feet, pain working its way past the adrenaline, throbbing all over. It pulsed behind her eyes, threatening to blind her.

Struggling, Lilah tried to gain her bearings. It took considerable effort to make the first step towards the back door. The second step was exponentially worse. Her fingers left the bar, and all she could do was fall to her hands and knees, bile rising in the back of her throat.

Dry heaving, Lilah couldn’t keep her eyes open. The earth spun around and below so that not even the solid foundation of the floor could ground her. A soft sob reached her ears, and she realized that it was her. She was crying, hot tears dripping down her cheeks.

“Lilah.”

She reached for him blindly with her good arm, her fingers meeting leather and heat. He was saying something, but she heard him as if through deep water. It was here that whatever strength she had gave out. Her body crumbled, rolling limply to lay on her side. Through blurred tears, she saw his face hover  above her, felt him cup her jaw.

Offering no resistance, Lilah let him gingerly open her mouth. A moment later, she tasted his blood. Sweet and warm, Lilah swallowed it down, the stream so fast that she nearly choked on it. He must have cut deep. Desperate to live and for the pain to stop, she took whatever he was willing to give.

It was a long time—or, it felt like a long time, Lilah had no real sense of the minutes passing—before she could open her eyes without pain. The room was dark. She could hear the faint ripple of water. The floor below her was cool stone.

He’d moved her into his public office.

Lilah didn’t dare try to sit up. Her left side still burned with pain, her stomach rolling with nausea. Her ears, however, were perfectly able to hear the conversation happening not far away.

“I want his people dead, Javier. I want him found and brought to me.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“No mistakes.”

“Of course.”

“Go. Now.”

“Immediately, my lord.”

Footsteps walked past her, beautifully tailored slacks swimming past her field of vision. Lilah remained where she was, though she followed him until he turned towards the door. She felt Brasa move closer, saw him kneel down and sit beside her.

“How are you feeling?”

She took her time with speaking, “I hurt. I feel...tired.”

That was accurate. Though his blood was helping with the pain, her left side still throbbed, her head aching. She was exhausted in a way that told her she might not wake up if she slept.

Brasa hummed, acknowledging the statement, “If you’re feeling well enough, I will take you home.”

Lilah probably wasn’t quite up to the trip, but the possibility of sinking into their bed was too tantalizing to put off. She nodded, helping him to gather her into his body. He lifted her into a firm cradle, walking through to the back hallway. They took several turns, until she’d lost the ability to navigate, finally climbing up a set of steps.

It was near dark when he carried her out, and she recognized the far end of the garage. Brasa moved through and across to where they’d parked a few hours earlier. He eased her to stand so that he could open the door. The movement jarred her side, a grunt working its way out of her unwilling throat. She drew a breath and steadied herself.

Lilah looked over to the primary elevator, smoke seeping through the doors. She wondered how fast they could get the repairs in place, how many patrons had died, which staff she would never see again. The consequences of the attack were clear. Brasa would personally see to Benny’s end. It would be both vengeful and violent. She didn’t have the energy to sympathize with Benny, not when her legs shook beneath her weight.

Brasa hoisted her into the car, closing the door and moving around the back to the driver’s side. The engine turning over, the air kicking on, the familiar way the wheels rolled beneath the carriage. It was both normal and surreal.

Lilah was glad for the sunset, glad that the light was beginning to fade. Her head was still hurting, though it had dulled down. The low light let her keep her eyes open, let her focus on the landscape as it passed.

Not long after they left, Brasa’s phone rang. Lilah listened to him speak, worry building in her chest. Something had happened, possibly others were killed. He relayed the incident at the bar, relayed that Lilah was alive, though hurt. He relayed that he would see to her and then meet the other party later. Then, he hung up.

“What happened?”

Brasa’s hands gripped the wheel tightly, “Benny hit Jackknife’s as well.”

Somehow, she was both surprised and not surprised at the same time. It made perfect sense to hit both places at the same time, take out as many of their people as possible. He might have hoped, in the act, to have knocked down some of the major players. He almost succeeded with her.

Lilah gasped, “Was anyone hurt?”

“Richie was burned across his back, but the others are safe.”

Relieved, she asked, “Same technique?”

Brasa nodded, “In a liquor shipment.”

“Fuck,” Lilah breathed. “Fuck.”

He’d told her. Brasa had told her that Benny was going to resort to violence, that he would start making more aggressive moves. She was stunned at her own naivete. All along, she’d thought she knew how to plan, how to maneuver so that everyone got what they wanted. All along, she thought she knew what she was doing. Lilah had to finally admit to herself that she didn’t know shit.

“That is my feeling, as well,” Brasa murmured, taking the turn off the main highway.

“What are we going to do?”

He cast her a stern look, “You are going to rest. Javier is tracking him down. I will handle this.”

Lilah’s mouth thinned, “We can’t wait anymore. We have to close it. We have to stop this.”

“I know,” he said, one hand landing on her knee, “I will.”

Her chest tightened, her eyes watering again, emotions that she couldn’t describe pulling at her for her full attention. Lilah worked to calm her breath, one hand covering her eyes.

The car pulled to a stop, Brasa’s hands falling onto her shoulders, “Lilah, look at me.”

She shook her head, the tears coming faster. Emotions bubbled up, unchecked. She didn’t have any hope of keeping them inside.

“Please look at me.”

Reluctantly, Lilah lifted her gaze to him. His dark brows were drawn together, his mouth turned down in a frown.

“You’re alive, and I will ensure you are safe,” he told her in a soft, reassuring voice, “Your friends are safe. I will end this. I promise you.”

Blinking, tears touched her lashes, rolling down her cheeks and jaw, dropping to the hands folded in her lap. Brasa brushed them away, kissing her on the forehead.

He held her for a moment more, then leaned back to look her in the eyes, “It’ll be over soon.”

“I know,” she croaked.

Taking another second to check that she was, indeed, at a place where they could continue, Brasa released her and put the car back in drive.

When they reached the entrance, Brasa helped her out of the car, then picked her back up to carry her to the elevator. He held her all the way down and through the hall to their door. Gently, he eased her to standing, opened the door, then picked her back up, taking her directly to their bed.

With the greatest of care, he laid her down, taking off her shoes, socks, shirt, and jeans. Her clothes were shot through with her own blood, the fabric sticking. Every little hiss, every jerking moment, was noted. He watched her face for signs of further injury, hands barely grazing her skin as he revealed cut after cut, most of them on their way to healing.

Brasa continued removing clothing until she lay before him naked. He then went to the bathroom, returning with a bowl of water held between both hands, a towel over his arm. He cleaned her wounds, washing dirt and blood from her skin. Afterwards, he dressed her in an oversized shirt from her pajama drawer.

He let her rest against the pillows, hands pulling at the tails of his button up. He pulled free his cuffs, then worked down the long line at the center, tossing the shirt into the laundry. Turning from her, he worked at his belt, throwing it on a nearby chair, his slacks going the same way. Stepping into a soft pair of sleep pants, Brasa joined her on the bed, laying near enough that she could feel his body heat, but not touching her.

She turned her head to look at him, the hand by her face stretching out to touch two fingers to the skin just beneath his chin, “Thank you.”

The calm of his expression cracked open, his eyes flashing with something on the edges of grief, “I almost lost you, and you’re thanking me.” He sniffed, taking her hand, “I found you on the floor, bleeding. I felt your fear.”

She turned to her side, bringing his hand to her lips, kissing it, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, “This wasn’t you.”

“I know.”

She tamped back the urge to apologize again. His pain was playing out in front of her, emanating through the bond in a ragged, crawling ache. She could feel how much he cared for her, how scared he was to see her hurting amongst the chaos of the explosion.

“I’m okay,” she said, eventually. “I feel better already.”

That was the truth. Her injuries were healing, the pain still present but no longer so piercing that she couldn’t think. He’d done what was necessary to not only ensure her safety, but her comfort—a fact that had not escaped her notice.

Brasa nodded curtly, rising up a bit to kiss her. Another, slower kiss followed, touched with sweetness and relief. She took the kisses as eagerly as she ever had, glad both for his support and for the fact that she was still alive.

He pulled away, looking her over, “I need you to do something for me.”

“Okay.”

He sat up, turning to pull open the nightstand. When he faced her again, he was holding his preferred knife. Lilah looked from the blade to Brasa and back, confused.

“I know I said that I would do this slowly, but I am...desperate to see that you are strong enough to withstand whatever happens while I close the portal.”

Fortified. The word rang in her head, bouncing off memories that were tainted in amber and smoke.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” she confirmed confidently.

Letting loose a held breath, Brasa set the blade aside and wiggled his hands beneath her, pulling her to sitting, and then astride his thighs, one arm circling her waist to help her balance. He’d held her like this over and over throughout their relationship, pulled securely into the comfort of his arms. Lilah felt more tears try to escape as she thought about how she might not have been able to do this again, how close she actually came to real death.

She had to shake herself free of the feeling, wanting to be strong for him. Bracing her hands on his biceps, Lilah relaxed her hips, all her weight resting on him. When he handed her the knife, she took it, looking to him for direction.

“You need to be able to do this, when I cannot,” he explained. “Cut deeply.”

Mouth open, Lilah regarded him with both shock and hot embarrassment. All the incidents where she’d needed to open a cut rushed by her, followed by the feeling of failure. She squeezed the knife, any further action aborted.

With practiced, easy movements, Brasa opened the blade, curling her fingers over the handle so that they fell into the grooves. Then, slowly, he set the sharp edge against the smooth skin of his chest.

“You can’t hurt me,” he murmured, his forehead touching her hairline, a physical support.

Lilah held still, her heart beating loudly in her ears, teeth tearing at the inside of her cheek. It took more willpower than she would ever care to admit to press the knife into him. She kept going until she felt the skin split apart. From either side of the blade, little beads of blood welled up. She looked up at him for signs of pain, finding none.

“Take,” he rasped, a hand at the back of her neck guiding her down.

Lifting the knife, Lilah followed the guidance of his hand, tongue sliding up the length of the cut, drawing the line of red into her mouth. She did it again, pulling back to swallow. Her fingers traced the mark as she watch it heal in real time.

“I heal quickly,” he drawled, as if it weren’t immediately obvious, “I need you to go deeper than that.”

Flushed and nervous, Lilah put the knife back to the same spot, allowing herself to push harder, past the point of the skin breaking, into the meat. He bled freely, if slowly. Lilah gathered it up, her mouth settling over the cut and sucking gingerly.

Brasa shivered under her mouth and hands, his chest expanding with an indrawn breath. She looked up at him, checking for signs of discomfort. He only nodded at her, taking her wrist and bringing the blade back to his skin.

The mark she’d made was no longer bleeding, though the area was raised and angry looking. She switched sides, cutting a longer line. This time, she’d gone deep enough that blood flowed heavily from the wound, dripping down over his stomach. Panicking, she pressed a hand over the cut, dropping the knife onto her thigh as she tried to gather the river of red onto the fingers of her other hand.

“Sorry, sorry,” she whispered, her voice reed thin.

Brasa laughed as he helped her clean the sticky mess across his chest and stomach. He drew her wet fingers into his mouth, tongue lapping at her palm and over her wrist. She swallowed, pushing back the first bloom of arousal in her belly. Her attempt was effectively thwarted when he tapped her lips with the pads of his first two fingers, sliding them into her mouth and over her tongue.

Lilah drew them deeper, sucking on them as she held his eyes, the warm brown already flooded through the whites with black. Behind the open seam of his lips, she could see the points of his fangs. With deliberate slowness, Brasa pulled the hand still on his chest away, giving it the same attention as he had the counterpart.

Skin tingling, Lilah watched him lick her clean, becoming more and more aware of the heat that seeped into her body where they touched, of how he burned against her.

Pushing the knife back into her hand, Brasa directed, “Again.”

The next cut marked a line from his massive shoulder down and over his collarbone. She tongued it, listening to him check a groan in the back of his throat. Beneath the thin fabric of his pants, she could see the outline of his erection, half hard.

Tempted as she was to touch him, the pleasure of watching him react to every cut, the feeling of her mouth on him, was more attractive. His hands massaged her sides, flexing over her body as if he were just barely overcoming the urge to pull her close. If she sucked hard on him, he’d emit a high, choked, moan, his eyes closing as he fought for control. Behind and underneath her, his legs shifted restlessly, sliding against the sheets.

The more she drank from him, the hotter he got, his breath coming in gasps and shudders. Lilah felt herself wondering how far he would let her go, how much he would let her take. The wounds on her body no longer ached in quite the same way, her fatigue fading similarly. Lilah could feel every drop of his blood working its way through her veins, overcoming injuries her human body couldn’t hope to repair so quickly.

She’d lost count of how many cuts she’d licked from him, most of the marks already healed. Brasa had started leaning into the blade, forcing her to push deeper. Blood had dried in some spots, in the creases of her hands and on the metal of the knife. Lilah looked him over, noting the glassiness of his eyes, the relaxed muscle in his frame.

He kissed her, tongue rolling along hers, his nose pressed into her cheek. Lilah held onto him, the rising tide of her arousal working its way past her defenses.

Pulling away, their foreheads touching, Brasa breathed hard. They remained like that, the air sizzling around them, until Lilah brought the knife up to lay against his neck, the point indenting but not puncturing the skin.

“Go on,” he urged, his eyes watching her intensely.

She pushed it in. Lilah had cut him deeper in other places, had opened him wider not minutes before. But, as she pulled the knife free and fixed her mouth over the wound, Brasa’s head fell back, a feral sound rumbling in his chest. She anchored herself with a hand behind his head, fingers tangled in his hair. Mouthful after mouthful passed her lips. She drank until she had to pull back for air.

He’d wrapped both arms around her waist, pulled her so that their chests were pressed together, her hips resting intimately in the cradle between his thighs. She couldn’t help but to rock against him in small circles, the friction of his pants against her folds tantalizing and delicious.

“Can you…?” He asked, body shaking as he held himself as still as possible.

It didn’t really matter to her whether or not she physically could, Lilah needed to be closer to him. She needed to have him inside her, feel the safety of being in his arms.

“Yes, yes,” she said airily, “Please.”

His weight shifted, and she knew he was going to put her on her back. Lilah stopped him, both hands on his chest, pushing him down. He went, his dark head landing on the pillow. She kissed him as she worked his pants down, freeing his erection. With one hand, she held him steady, balancing on his chest with the other. And then she was sinking down on him in one slow, unrelenting thrust that drew him in to the base.

Brasa pulled his lips between his teeth, strain at the corners of his eyes. The hands on her thighs squeezed, an entreaty to end the agony of delayed pleasure. She rose up, letting her body fall back down a few times, until she built up a rhythm. Her hips worked, his cock dragging against her walls as she tried to find the right angle.

Her slick dripped down between them, the sound obscene in the all too quiet room. Despite the fact that his blood was coursing through her, she felt her muscles begin to burn with the movements. Frustrated, Lilah rested her body against his chest with a defeated whine.

Arms coming up to hold her to him, Brasa kissed her, saying against her mouth, “Let me help you.”

Below her, his core flexed, broad ropes of muscle working to ease his cock in and out of her. He tilted her head to the side and bit into her neck. Lilah winced, her whole body tensing at the intrusion. He drank slowly, his teeth holding their place inside the bite.

The first tingle of venom ran along her arm to her fingers. Then, it moved down into her chest, before it burst outwards, exploding all over her body. He kept feeding it to her, kept pushing more and more of it into her veins. Lilah’s eyes rolled back as her arousal, already at a boil, overflowed the containment of her body.

She ground down on him, the movement catching her clit and scraping against the flushed lips of her folds. The firm bracket of his arms kept her from moving to freely, kept her focused on the way he intermittently hit her g spot.

“There,” he praised, licking at his bite languidly, “So good. So fucking good.”

Panting, Lilah buried her face into his neck, digging her nails into his shoulders. Little moaning gasps left her with each thrust, every time he filled her bringing new higher sensations. It rolled upwards, unstoppable, until she keened against him.

With a gratified rumble, Brasa palmed her ass, holding her in place as he fucked her harder, seeking his own release. He came on the tail end of her orgasm, meeting the slowing spasms of her body with a hard, circling grind.

Lilah might have passed out, she didn’t quite know. But, when she was able to focus again, she was laying atop Brasa, sweat cooling on her body, a little sore, and smiling.

“I need a shower,” she murmured, salt and dried blood dotting her skin.

“In a moment,” he replied, pushing her hair back from her face, “Let me get the feeling back in my legs.”

Lilah laughed, easing off him and to her side, “We’re gonna have to change the sheets.”

“Tomorrow.”

She had to agree with that. Anything more the absolutely necessary could wait.

From the floor, Brasa’s phone rang. He sighed heavily and rose, answering. Lilah watched his expression turn stormy, watched his eyes grow red in anger. He said a few words in Xibalban and hung up.

“What happened?”

He glanced at her, “They’ve lost track of him. I’ll have to hunt him down myself.”

The way he said it. The way he was already pulling out clean clothes told Lilah all she needed to know about his intent.

Lilah sat up slowly, “Be careful.”

There was no use in attempting to set him off track, not with the way his shoulders and jaw had set.

“I will.”

Brasa dressed, his hands and body covered in leather he hadn’t worn in days. She kissed him goodbye, her gaze following him through the bedroom door. When the front door clicked shut, she sagged against the pillows, drowsy.  Petulantly, she pushed to standing and showered. Pulling on one of Brasa’s shirts and a pair of underwear, she crawled back into the bed and let herself doze.

The smell of smoke awoke her. It billowed down the hall from the direction of the living room. Lilah rushed from the bed, choking as she found the end of the hall completely engulfed in flames. Without thought, Lilah turned and hauled ass to the door leading to the caves, thankful that he’d left it unlocked following their little game of hide and seek.

With quick feet that slammed against uneven stone, Lilah moved, trying to retrace the path to the hole in the ceiling.  It took four dead ends and the sudden fear that she’d gotten irreparably lost before she saw it.

Lilah crawled up the ramp, dragging herself through the opening and out into the dark of the desert. On her knees, she caught her breath, one hand on her chest.

“Well, this isn’t how I thought smoking you out of hiding would go, but I’ll take it.”

Lilah looked up, startled.

Benny.

[maomao-words]

Hi there! Will you be okay writing a hc of the MLQC boys finding out that MC self harms and then help her with her depression? I get that Depression and Self Harm are sensitive topics, so if you are not comfortable, I'd understand too !

Hey, dear! I have written for several fandoms so far and each time a request such as yours comes to me I always feel terrified of writing it for the fear of it coming off as mocking or trivializing depression. 

Depression is not an easy topic to write about and I absolutely do not wish to offend anyone with this. But when I think of the possibility of these HCs somehow making someone, anyone, out there feel a little bit better about themselves, I always decide to write them even if it is out of my comfort zone.

Just few words of serious warning here. I am not an expert on mental illnesses nor am I a doctor. Although I am not exactly mentally healthy myself, I have never been diagnosed with depression either. I will try my best to make this as accurate as possible, based on my readings, my own experience and my friends’ struggles.

So, please, do not hesitate to tell me if something is erroneous or can potentially offend or trigger anyone who has depression and I will immediately take this post down, you have my word.

The purpose of these HCs will be to heal and to comfort and NOT to belittle or mock depression. For all of you out there, who are battling with depression, you are real warriors and I pray to God you never stop fighting. Keep clinging to hope and never be ashamed to seek out help. 

Trigger Warning: Depression, mentions of self-harm.

MLQC Boys helping an MC who self-harms and is struggling with depression:

Victor:

Victor knew from the start. He noticed the abnormal long sleeves in extremely hot days, noticed the unconscious tug you give their hems each time you think they are going to expose your skin and noticed the way your eyes violently tremble each time his touch gets too intimate. Victor knew something was wrong, knew that you were hiding a secret from him, but he never pressured you to say a word. He wanted you to come to him by your own free will and tell him what you were holding back whenever you felt ready and comfortable enough to do so. Only when your face got so much pale, your eyes grew empty and hallow, your appetite for food almost disappeared and your sleeves got longer and longer until they reached the tips of your fingers that Victor finally spoke to you.

It was during a late dinner date in Souvenir when Victor broke the silence with a quiet “How can I help?” spoken in a whisper. He didn’t want you to push yourself to speak nor did he want an explanation for the thin cuts scattered across your wrists. Victor simply wanted to help. In any way, in any form, using whatever means he had. If you wished for his own life, Victor would give it away for you, without as much as blinking an eye. Victor just doesn’t you to shut him out. He will not judge you or scorn you, nor ask you to “fix” yourself. Victor fell in love with a human; a human with abilities and flaws, strength and weakness and he will accept her as she is.

Victor will be there for you each step of the way. If you choose to seek professional help, be sure he will arrange to you the most talented psychiatrist out there no matter which country they reside in and makes sure that you are comfortable enough with them. Rest assured, Victor’s behavior will not undergo any major changes even if you choose to tell him all about the demons residing in your head or lift up your sleeves to show him your scars. He will continue you to treat you in the same way since he does not consider you to be any different. In his eyes, you’re the same dummy he fell in love with. It doesn’t matter for him that at certain days, you would feel too empty to even get up from the bed or too tired to brush your messy hair or drink your coffee. It does not matter for him if at days you feel incredibly happy and smile so brightly before suddenly sinking into darkness and sobbing your heart out to him. None of this matters because Victor will be there in any case, every day, whether good or bad, and will kiss you good morning, insult your bed hair before threading his fingers through it, tenderly kissing its ends.

No matter which path you choose to walk, Victor will be there for you. He did not fall in love with you to force you to wear a mask or pretend to be happy when all you want to do is scream your heart out. Victor fell in love with you because you are clumsy, spontaneous, strong, vulnerable, fierce and weak all together. You deserve to be loved for who you truly are, and Victor will make sure to do exactly that.

Gavin:

The blood. He needed to stop the blood.

Visiting your apartment on a Saturday afternoon with a carefree date plan in mind, Gavin was not exactly ready to be greeted with the sight of you sitting on the bathroom floor as blood trickled down your wrist and pooled beside your legs. Gavin’s initial reaction could be described as calm. The nature of his job, which made him quite used to scenes of blood, would enable him to rapidly make a rational observation of the situation and directly act. Gavin’s first priority was snatching a towel from a nearby shelf, tightly wrapping your wrist to stop the bleeding before carefully carrying you in his arms to your bedroom. His first instinct was to immediately bring you to a hospital and get you properly checked up by a doctor, but the empty look in your eyes as well as the silent tears dripping across your cheeks as you slowly shook your head in refusal, made Gavin reconsider his options. After all, the last thing he wished to do was put further pressure on your already broken self by dragging you against your will to a hospital and leaving you exposed to a variety of questions and pitying looks there.

So Gavin unwillingly compromises. He checks the cuts on your wrist himself and sighs in relief as they turn out shallow enough to be treated without risk. As Gavin picks up the first aid kit from your bathroom and sits down on your bed to carefully disinfect the cuts, the feelings of anguish, grief and self-hatred finally bursts to the surface. After holding all of these feelings back for the sake of taking care of your bleeding body and controlling himself to the best of his abilities, Gavin finally felt tears pricking his eyes. His lover, his world, his everything was suffering in front of his eyes. The woman he loved with all of his heart, the beautiful and kind soul was constantly putting a brave face even when the pain got too overwhelming that she wanted to scream and cry out. His sweetheart was facing a seemingly never-ending battle with the demons inside of her head everyday and still she found enough courage to wake up and face the world every morning. How could he not cry?

“How can you be so strong?” was the first thing coming out of Gavin’s lips. He gently squeezed your hand and looked at you in the eyes, gaze carrying all of the unspoken words he wishes to say. He wanted to sit there all night and tell you about the amazing woman you are. How brave, how strong and how fierce you are for facing the world while carrying so much upon your shoulders. The woman Gavin loves is a soldier much, much braver than him and he cannot be any prouder of you for not giving up on life despite it all. If you need an attentive ear to listen, Gavin will be there for you whether it’s four in the morning or two in the afternoon, whether it’s just to cry your heart out to him or to tell him all about those venomous thoughts swirling inside your head. If you ever wish to seek professional help, be sure that Gavin will support you in every step you take and will never leave your side. He loves all of you and that will not change no matter what your situation is. Whether you are laughing or crying, hurting or enjoying life to the best of your abilities, Gavin will be there, holding your hand, giving you the strength and comfort you will always deserve.

Kiro:

“It’s more than okay to feel this way,” Kiro softly whispered in your ear the day you decided him to bare your all for him, body and soul.

His hands tightened around your waist, bringing your naked form close to his chest. His long, smooth fingers tenderly trailed across your stomach, up to your breasts and down your arms until he reached your wrist. Kiro ever so gently traced the scars scattered on your soft skin, barely applying pressure as if scared he will hurt you if he pushes the slightest against the skin. You could hear him take a sharp intake of breath as his fingers traced your arm up and down, sending shivers of pleasure and comfort across your whole body. Kiro’s hands continued to do so for a short while, letting your tense body unwind and comes undone under his careful and tender touch before he spoke again. Kiro’s voice was no higher than a whisper beside your ear as he told you how grateful he is that you have never given up on life and how much he loves and adores you with all of your scars and pains. You could hear his voice tremble the more he talked and you could feel something wet hit the side of your neck as Kiro nuzzled his face in the crook of your shoulder. At that moment, one thought was swirling in your head: In Kiro’s arms you were home. And home is where you are simply accepted and embraced with no questions asked.

Once Kiro learns of the venomous demons inhabiting your head and pushing you to make yourself bleed, he will make sure to pour more of his addictively sweet love to you. So be ready to be pampered to death by this man. Do you feel like staying in your room all day doing nothing at all? Kiro will make sure to empty out his schedule, gather all of the soft blankets in the house and huddle up next to you under the sheets with snacks in hand whenever the darkness in your head gets too overwhelming for you to fight it. Do you feel a little bit better, ready to go out for a date? Kiro will also be there, hand intertwined with yours, as he allows you to pick whichever destination you want to go to, without ever pushing you too far or forcing you do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable. 

So, in your dark just as in your bright days, Kiro promises he will be there. He will smile when you do and hold you close whenever you feel like crumbling down. He will give you space and time whenever you need them and stick close to you if you feel like the world is crashing around you .Kiro will be more than content to simply walk by your side and match your pace in your journey towards healing. He will be there when you feel courageous enough to take baby steps forward and he will never abandon you even when you shut yourself in your room and come so close to giving everything up. Kiro will be there, through it all. So do not be afraid, and lean on his sturdy back, and let his gentle warmth and kind heart heal your very soul. 

Lucien:

Lucien would have definitely noticed your mental situation long before you decided to tell him anything. Lucien’s strongest forte of observation would enable him to tell the darkness you would often find yourself drowning in and he would always try his best to help you as subtly as possible. Once you feel ready and confess it all to him, Lucien’s help would turn more explicit and vocal, now that you have given him your consent to receive help. Lucien might not be an expert in mental health but he is more than ready to introduce you to one of his psychiatrist friends, whom he has absolute trust in their skills. But if you do not feel ready to talk to anyone yet, Lucien will respect your decision and encourage you to take as much time as you need. He will be there for you, whichever choice you make.

Expect small gestures that make you feel instantly better every day from now on: Your favorite flower on your desk on days where work feels too overwhelming, a delicious breakfast in bed in the mornings where your eyes are puffy from crying and you’re feeling too hallow to even get up, the cutest diary in your favorite color left beside your pillow for you to write your heart out. All of these and more will gradually manifest into your life as days go by. 

Lucien understands. He understands very well, probably more than anyone else, that he cannot exactly banish all of your doubts and insecurities. Life is not a fairy tale. Life is harsh and unfair. It will knock you down and mock all of your attempts to get up. It will hurt you and scar you and turn your soft heart into a torn, bleeding mess. That is life and Lucien will not try to sugarcoat reality. But Lucien knows how to make you look at life and feel something else beside pain and hatred. He will bring you to parks and let you soak up the sun and doze off on his lap. He will bring you to watch your favorite movies over and over again and drive you to see the sunrise even if at the cost of his own sleep. He will invite you to cat cafes and watch as you swoon over the fluffy and cuddly animals and hug them closer to your chest. But Lucien will also be there if you choose to shut the wold off and you could no longer see the light surrounding you. He will sit there in silence with you and pat your head until you fall asleep. He will switch outdoors dates to indoors ones and try to lessen the weight on your heart as much as possible without ever giving up on you.

No matter how much your demons whisper and scream, Lucien will be there to deny all of their words and remind you that you are loved and that when all of this is over, “I will still be here and so will you”.

[zaph1337]

Monster Hunter Rating 28: Lao-Shan Lung, the Old Mountain Dragon

Welp. I knew I’d get here eventually, but I spent almost the entirety of this project thinking that I would talk about a different monster of this caliber. If you’re unfamiliar with Monster Hunter, you might be confused as to why I seem so trepidatious about this. I mean, I’ve already covered Rathalos--the big cheese of Monster Hunter! What could be a bigger deal than that? Well, back when I was talking about Diablos, I mentioned that the only monsters it wouldn’t attack were things called Elder Dragons, which, by the way, are some of the only monsters that have a good chance of killing a Rath(ian/alos) in a 1-on-1 brawl (though I didn’t mention that during the last two reviews). It’s finally time I talk about why.

Elder Dragons aren’t just “dragons that are really old”; in fact, they don’t have to be dragons at all. Elder Dragons can look like they belong in a different group, but there’s one reason they aren’t: power. Now, saying that something shouldn’t be in a biological taxa just because it’s stronger than what’s currently in that taxa may seem stupid, but let me put it this way: saying that an Elder Dragon should be in a mundane category is like saying that the Greek gods should be classified as hominids because most of them look exactly like humans. It doesn’t work like that. They’re in a completely different league than we are, and the same goes for Elder Dragons and mundane monsters.

Elder Dragons are like forces of nature made flesh; some have been compared to gods, while others have been viewed as living natural disasters due to the destruction they can bring, if they so choose. And the scary part is, some of them do. Behold the Old Mountain Dragon, Lao-Shan Lung!

(How it appears in Monster Hunter 1)

(How it appears in Monster Hunter Generations Ultimate)

(How it appears in Monster Hunter Online)

Appearance: Lao-Shan Lung is fairly simple, design-wise: it’s a brown, quadrupedal, wingless dragon. It’s certainly prickly, though, having sets of sharp scutes on its back, as you can see in the MH1 render. Its head also has a lot of pointy implements, with a serrated nose horn and eight normal horns (at least the wiki says there’s eight, I don’t think I can accurately count them on the renders); it also has some weird-looking teeth-like spikes on its jaws that look like black fangs which erupted out of its face, and I hope for its sake that that’s not what actually happened.

However, what’s easily the most noticeable thing about Lao-Shan Lung is its size. Of all the monsters I previously talked about, Plesioth was the biggest at 127 feet long at its largest. But Lao-Shan Lung isn’t called the “Old Mountain Dragon” for nothing; it’s never been seen at any size smaller than 6960 centimeters...which converts to 228.3 feet long, and the wiki says that they can potentially be 7000 cm or bigger. The wiki also says that they’re 1294 cm (42.5 feet) tall, and considering how long they are, I’m guessing that the height measurement is for when they’re on all fours. In other words, thassa chungy boi. And when you’re looking at something that big, you’re not going to think about how basic its aesthetic is, you’re going to be in awe of the sheer presence it exudes just by existing. Of course, that wouldn’t make up for it looking difficult to take seriously, but it’s a freaking dragon, so of course it makes it work just on concept alone. 7/10.

Behavior: Hoo boy, this is gonna be a long one. The Ecology page for Lao-Shan Lung is longer than those of the previous monsters I’ve reviewed. Pretty weird for something that people don’t know a lot about. We don’t know its main habitat due to the fact that it wanders around a lot, we think that it feeds on ores and other minerals, and it’s believed that the stone-like shell its scutes make up are made from airborne mineral particulates which stuck to and accumulated on its body, a process that would likely have taken about a thousand years. They like to wander, and if anything’s in their way, even if it’s a mountain, they’ll bust it down and keep on moving.

Lao-Shan Lung has been nicknamed “The Walking Natural Disaster” because of the damage it causes just by existing. Its footsteps can cause landslides and shake buildings to the point of causing them to crumble, and like I said, they’ll bulldoze their way through anything in their path, regardless of what it is or who gets hurt. Why go around an obstacle when you can go through it? This is a big reason why Lao-Shan Lung is compared to a natural disaster; it doesn’t try to kill anything, but just like a disaster, it doesn’t care if it does, and even if it did, the very nature of its existence makes it dangerous. It doesn’t even care about people attacking it; it’ll keep on moving and never even try to defend itself. And even when it gets to a fortress in its way, it won’t make an immediate attempt to break it down (at least in Generations Ultimate, based off of the one video I watched on the subject). My guess is that when it does make an attack, it immediately destroys the fort, so the devs made it take so long to actually try to do that to make killing or repelling it before then possible, and they didn’t make it have to constantly attack the fort to break it down to preserve its sense of power; how can you expect it to destroy entire mountains when it can’t destroy one dinky little fortress in one hit?

I believe that the force of nature Lao-Shan Lung embodies is an avalanche, due to its title of “Old Mountain Dragon” and the fact that the threat it poses comes from the fact that once it starts moving, it won’t stop for anything. It crushes and destroys everything in its path not because it wants to, but because that’s just how avalanches work. The only way to stop it is to kill it, or to repel it by making its death an inevitability if it doesn’t go the other way. Obviously you can’t kill a real avalanche, nor can you scare it off, but in terms of Lao-Shan Lung’s attitude towards everything, they’re scarily similar.

But there’s one more lore aspect to Lao-Shan Lung that I want to bring up here: The Five Incident. See, Monster Hunter actually has a reason why there’s a 4-person-limit on Quest parties; according to in-game lore, the chief of a place called Kokoto Village went on a Quest to slay a Lao-Shan Lung with four other hunters--one of them being his fiancée, who wanted the Quest to be her greatest triumph, as well as her last one before she retired. And as any trope-savvy person will tell you, if a part of your story is that you’re one job away from retirement, you’re almost certainly going to die. And she did. The end But after her death, the story of the tragedy spread, and with it, what seemed like a jinx. A disproportionate number of five-person-hunts resulted in at least one person dying. Obviously this is a coincidence, but the Hunter’s Guild was not going to take any chances; they set a limit of four for hunting parties to (hopefully) lower the death toll and out of respect for Kokoto’s chief, who was presumably less than pleased that the death of his beloved was being viewed as the start of a curse. In times of crisis, larger groups can be allowed, but only if there are more than five people involved. And all of this happened because a Lao-Shan Lung couldn’t be bothered to just go around whatever the hunters were keeping it from.

Lao-Shan Lung is interesting because of its impassive nature. It’s not even slightly aggressive, but it’s dangerous to everything around it because it just doesn’t take any notice of the consequences of its actions. It seems like it lives its life ignoring everything that doesn’t present an immediate problem to it, and even when it’s close to death, it doesn’t fight back against the hunters that are killing it, which makes me believe that the Kokoto chief’s fiancée was killed as a consequence of the damage Lao-Shan Lung dealt to the environment around it, not because the monster actively attacked her. In that sense, it really is a natural disaster; it’s never going to make an attempt on your life, but if you’re around it in the first place, then it doesn’t need to. Its presence alone is a weapon of mass destruction. 8/10.

Abilities: Lao-Shan Lung lacks any form of supernatural ability aside from immense strength, and that’s the weakest aspect of it. It only ever relies on its bulk to destroy things, and even then, it only ever tries to deal damage to things that are in its way. Now, normally I’d say that the fact that it doesn’t need to do anything else in order to be one of the most dangerous monsters makes up for that, but like I said before, when it reaches the fortress that you spend the whole hunt trying to prevent it from breaking, it doesn’t break the fortress down right away. It just stands there like an idiot letting you attack it. Again, I know that this was probably a decision the devs made in order to preserve the notion that Lao-Shan Lung can obliterate the fort in a single attack, but in-universe, it’s ridiculous. I know that this is a section on rating abilities and not the fight with the monster itself, but the way the monster uses those abilities is important to informing my opinion on it, and my opinion is that Lao-Shan Lung is a bit of a letdown in this department. 3/10.

Equipment: Despite being a Dragon-element monster with an earthy look, most of Lao-Shan Lung’s weapons are fire themed, even if they’re Dragon-element. An easy example is the Long Sword called the Fire Dragonsword:

This looks sick. I don’t think the tongues of fire make sheathing that thing easy, but they still add a lot to the sword. Something else I noticed is that the tip of the blade looks like someone just took a normal sword and put an orange filter over it, which seems really sloppy until you notice that the sword starts becoming a more vibrant orange starting from the first flame, giving the impression that the sword really was on fire, but it’s been frozen in time, and the sword’s tip still bears the light of the flame’s glow. Of course, that’s just my interpretation. Next up is a Hammer that doesn’t look like they stuck the monster’s head on a stick, the Dragon Destroyer:

This is cool, but as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, neither of the weapons I’ve shown really look like they were made from Lao-Shan Lung parts. My guess is that that’s because the devs wanted Elder Dragon weapons to look fancy and powerful, and Lao-Shan Lung’s color scheme and design elements would make such weapons just look bland. If that’s true, then they figured out how to make cool looking Lao-Shan Lung weapons that look like Lao-Shan Lung weapons in Generations Ultimate, such as this Switch Axe called Dragon Ripper:

They kept the fiery glow on the blade, but the body of the axe has Lao-Shan Lung’s scales and spines. Don’t know what the rope tie is for, but the weapon still looks cool. As for the armor, there are unfortunately no images for the normal sets on the wiki aside from the ones from MHO, so I hope you don’t mind that I’m using those here. Here’s the Blademaster armor:

...I’m sorry, what does any of this have to do with Lao-Shan Lung? They don’t even look like they’re differently gendered versions of each other! And this isn’t a case of MHO screwing things up; the wiki has an image from Monster Hunter Freedom Unite of a special version of the Lao-Shan Lung armor that appears in that game, and while I didn’t want to show it here because being a different version means it has different colors, both the male and female sets have almost the exact same designs you see above! The dude looks like a samurai wearing a historically-inaccurate Viking helmet, and I don’t even know how to describe the woman. Neither of these look very appealing, either. Is the Gunner armor any better?

No. No, it does not. Looking at this is and thinking about how it’s supposed to be based off of Lao-Shan Lung just makes me angry and confused, so I’m wrapping things up here.

Okay, so obviously the armor sets were real stinkers, but the weapons really helped this section out. I still can’t give it a very high score, but at the very least, I can say it’s above average. 6/10.

Final Thoughts and Tally: I’m...disappointingly lukewarm towards this monster. From a conceptual and lore standpoint, it nails the concept of a sentient disaster, but the fact that it barely does anything in its fight and the sucky armor that really doesn’t say “I killed a dragon bigger than a house to make this” hold it back. Still, the MH design team did a good job at making a monster that introduces you to the power Elder Dragons can possess. Hopefully, it only goes up from here. 6/10.

[chal-lelerc]

ok so like. here’s my harry potter house thing. i’m ngl i tried to do this but then i deleted it bc it was getting too long and i didn’t have the attention span but. it kept sticking in my brain so i decided to pick it back up and as such, i’ve lost the original post but it was a quarantine activity (sort drivers into houses, assign quidditch positions, explain) posted by @verstappened​. houses done first, then positions, then explanations for both. i tried to make feasible teams, i.e making sure there arent too many of a single position per house, so this really screwed some of the sorting but oh well.

i did the houses first, then positions, then explanations in that order for the most part.

5/13/20: the sorting was mostly done before i heard all the differing opinions (of which there were many!)

5/19/20: alright so this is literally like 2 months old but i’ve just finished it lolol

Lewis Hamilton:

Slytherin: THE GLORY MAN. the aloof kind of superiority, confidence, is top dog, he’s simply the pinnacle of it all. kind of lethal and doesn’t do the whole ‘looking up to others’ things (outwardly, but he seems very soft on the inside tbh). very majestic and is almost a gryffindor, the kind of slytherin that Merlin is. hard-working, got here from incredibly humble beginnings, which kind of stands out from the rest, but he’s clearly now at the top level of society. still very protective of Others. scarily ambitious. Was originally a gryffindor but I wanted the brits to be in different houses for their quidditch positions to work. Could honestly go either way though.

Seeker: more glory. periodt. he stays winning and scoring the most points. clutch-man. Speedy boy, kind of in a different world than everyone else when competing (he’s always at the front lifetimes away from everyone else lmao. playing a diff game.)

Valtteri Bottas:

Hufflepuff: HE SEEMS. LIKE. A. BIG. CHILD. always relegated and brushed off but is literally God-Tier and no one can convince me otherwise. i consider him to be rather reliable (reflecting only the 2019 season at least lmao). a bit of a vindictive streak bc he knows what he’s Capable Of even when others underestimate him. has a very bright smile.

Beater: have u seen him. he’s a big boy even though he’s 5′8 and only an inch taller than lando norris he seems bigger than he is ok

Charles Leclerc:

Slytherin: this bitch. what a snake. hiss hiss.

Chaser: he wants what lewis hamilton has but chose the wrong position. still a star in his own right. pride and joy of his house, will be at the lead of every formation play unless told otherwise by his head of house, to which he will brood and complain ab but comply in the end bc he wants Team Success and loyalty to his Family. scores the most points on the team and people act like he carries even though he literally has a partner(s).

ok but fr my gut said charles is a slytherin (do i really need to explain why? very critical, doesn’t accept inferiority, somehow succeeds. just a feeling his brain seems to fit motorsport politics well), but i was seriously contemplating whether he’d be a gryffindor to max’s slytherin instead. but then i saw someone mention the whole lion schtick and i was like for all of max’s brattiness he is Gryffindor so sharl is snake. sorry don’t make the rules just follow them.

further edit: this was written before he started streaming (this is how old this draft is) and can u believe him he’s the epitome of the “not all slytherins r evil wenches” idea

Sebastian Vettel:

Ravenclaw: idk for all of Seb’s goofiness he just seems cerebral to me. Seems to know mildly irrelevant facts and is really quite smart however is hopeless in the modern age. Kind of that wise old(er he’s not that old) man knowledge. I’d trust him to give me all the life advice I need but also to write a 10 page essay on the nuances of the effect of emotion on verbal language (which we all know he is very experienced with).

Keeper: it’s the protective Dad Power.

Max Verstappen:

Gryffindor: WAS REALLY GONNA PUT HIM IN SLYTHERIN BC HE’S A NASTY LIL SHIT. TOTAL BRAT. GIVES FUCK ALL WHAT OTHERS SAY. BUT HE IS LION AND LION IS HE SO GRYFFINDOR IT IS. also just bc he needs to oppose sharl in every way possible it’s called Poetic Cinema. also his driving style is clearly the bravery and confidence to the point of recklessness that is prevalent among gryffindors.

Chaser: again, he must oppose Charles. so, not a seeker although he’s clearly singularly the most prized competitor. just like Charles, pride and joy of house, their star chaser. the comparisons never end. the competition never ends. the fighting never ends. one of the most interesting and dynamic performers to watch, is predictable in that he’s not predictable except that he will always be aggro to the max. will always be in trouble for getting rough bc that’s Not His Job but that’s just the gryffindor disregard for rules. master point scorer.

Alex Albon:

Gryffindor: was really a toss up btwn this and Hufflepuff but the ultimate deciding factor was the fact that I wanted all the British Boys to be seekers. he really just sticks it out as max’s teammate like a real one (nothing against max, everything against Helmet Merco) for the good of the team, still is sweet with max anyway. fitting that they’re in the same house too.

Seeker: he’s not the small boy that lando and lewis are but he is (thai/)British. very special boy (big ups on the promotion even tho it was Sad Times for Pear) deserves very special job. also he has a hot girlfriend (alex albon who i only know lily he’s boy toy) idk how that’s relevant but it seems fitting.

Carlos Sainz:

Ravenclaw: bc he’s a spaniard but is still better at english than Lando (i think everyone is tbh). Seems to be a quiet type of smart, sensible, but perhaps this is just the consequence of being compared to Lanno at all times LMAO (no hate all love bby Lannd). would be the type of ravenclaw to follow his friends on absolutely idiotic ventures but would step in to prevent near death or likely-legal-problem causing actions (and only then; otherwise it’s every man for themselves and everyone is free to make a fool of themselves and break some laws. carlos may dabble in such practices.)

Chaser: seems to be a go-getter, not going for points doesn’t even cross his mind. will always be the one driving up the pitch, the strategist of sorts bc he seems big(ger) brain (than lando lololol).

Edit: I wrote this part ab him long ago but this entire section of this post is now irrelevant and canceled.

Lando Norris:

Hufflepuff: you all know why. zero explanation needed. like, none.

also has a bit of an aggressive streak which tends to catch ppl off guard. is not afraid to confront u (hello pageNO) and at times defies the hufflepuff stereotype of being perpetually happy go-lucky (he has his bad days!). but when with His True Crew he is absolutely a hufflepuff ball of energy.

Seeker: small and speedy. energetic to the max. small. quirky and different from the rest, so he gets the special job. small. everyone would kill to protect him. small.

Daniel Ricciardo:

Gryffindor: AW I DIDN’T EVEN REALIZE THAT I PUT HIM AND MAX TOGETHER. LOOK I EVEN MADE THEM BOTH CHASERS. AH HOW BIGBRAIN MY MIND IS. everything ab dan is gold. golden skin, the colors in redbull and renault, his smile, just the vibes. he’s just got the enthusiasm and charisma and this intensity of a gryffindor. super aggressive, his late breaking (from his rbr at least) is legendary and maddening with how he pulls it off. is almost a hufflepuff but the gut said no.

Chaser: is Max’s teammate. so yeah. was obviously the star until younger max came to the show. a bit lost in limbo bc of it but they still work well together.

literally want to make him a hufflepuff so. bad. but i couldn’t split up maxiel. also his vibe is just different from other ‘puffs like stroll so.

Esteban Ocon:

Slytherin: ask max.

Chaser: being characterized off of their relationship with max seems to be a theme here. will go head to head with max w/ absolutely zero shits given. talented, but the rivalry with max is entirely secondary to charles imho. still yet to show his full potential but is still quietly a thorn in max’s side. many are interested to see what he is able to do in the immediate future.

Pierre Gasly:

Hufflepuff: GUYS HE WANTS TO OWN A PANDA

Chaser: constantly trying to prove himself and score big boy points. had a stint as seeker until lando came along. did not do as well as ppl had hoped, returned to chaser and proceeded to crush it from there. praticed a lot with charles as children (the friendship dynamic w/ their houses was definitely unforseen but is amazing).

Daniil Kvyat:

Hufflepuff: really wanted to make him a slytherin but the quidditch positions didn’t work out. firmly believe this works though. more of the rough and tumble type, definitely the kind that will sock u in the nose if u write off hufflepuffs as a joke. could honestly probably be a gryffindor too with how unapologetically aggressive he can be in the name of His Beliefs. gives me big dumb himbo vibes now that i think ab it tbh which is mostly the justification here. also he has a child omg.

Chaser: but the one that’s always headbutting bludgers out of the air (torpedo bitches). also had a stint as seeker before but it Was Not His Thing. he’d much rather be chasing and throwing things than seeking things. also he’s pierre’s mate :,) would’ve been a beater but romain and valtteri will not be anything else so daniil took the boot whoops.

Sergio Perez:

Slytherin: it’s just the vibe. knows his weaknesses and is able to make up for it with his confidence and talent in his strengths. very ambitious, plays the right cards at the right times to get the right results. something ab him puts me on edge, but like in a good way; i feel like there’s always a trump card up his sleeve, like when he gets to q3 out of fucking nowhere in a racing point.

Keeper: he gives me the same vibes as seb idk what it is. very dependable, backbone of his team.

Lance Stroll:

Hufflepuff: guys have u seen the guy. he’s just here to have a good time. may seem a bit airheaded at times but he means well 99% of the time. untapped potential. seems like a no thoughts head empty canadian hockey boy (and every one of these types is a hufflepuff don’t fight it); may or may not be the only accurate description of him.

Chaser: he’s just trying his best out here. i

KEEPER?: SO I DID A QUICK GOOGLE AND HE USED TO BE A HOCKEY

GOALIE?????

so scratch my initial thoughts (tbh i didn’t really know where to put him and i originally had romain as keeper but that’s an issue to fix later on now) BECAUSE LANCE STROLL IS A keeper GOALIE AND NO ONE CAN REFUTE THIS. ABSOLUTELY NO HUMAN OF THIS EARTH. WHAT GLORIOUS INFORMATION TO STUMBLE ACROSS.

Kimi Raikkonen:

Slytherin: guys i really don’t have an in depth analysis of this but i don’t think iceman needs one.

Beater: see above^. y’all must get the vibe.

tbh could also be a keeper tho similar energies to seb and checo, but honestly his no fucks given attitude is ultimately what swayed me

Antonio Giovinazzi:

Gryffindor: he just has that majestic quality (that could also fit a slytherin but i only see red when i see antonio). look at that lion’s mane. also he’s one of kimi’s to paddock friends? seems fitting that he’s a gryffindor to kimi’s slytherin.

Chaser: plays second fiddle to the duo that is max and daniel, often regulated to vibing on the side. but he’s there and he’s important and he has potential (i’ve been seeing ppl talking ab a ferrari move and i’m positively shaken). [edit: again, this post is old.]

im sorry its glaringly obvious idk much about him asdfjasldkd

Kevin Magnussen:

Slytherin: guys lots of these are just self explanatory sorry if i seem like im taking the cheap way out but it’s fact. brundle and crofty call him a great white shark for crying out loud.

Beater: unapologetically chaotic. lurking around the edges making people feel hunted. spends more time playing baseball in the middle of the matches than quidditch and sometimes it backfires but it’s good fun and it sometimes works.

Romain Grosjean:

Hufflepuff: y’all he’s such dad energy and he likes to cook. gets written off a lot but he actually cares (he’s a part of the grand prix drivers assoc.!). he seems so wholesome and he spends time with his kids and their school work when he can do u feel those water drops yeah those r my tears.

Beater: i really wanted to make him a slytherin beater to make him teammates with k-mag but he’s just. not a slytherin. but i kept the beater part. spends the majority of the hufflepuff v. slytherin matches sending bludgers kevin’s way even when he doesn’t mean to. it’s always reciprocated.

George Russell:

Ravenclaw: I’VE SAID IT BEFORE AND I’LL SAY IT AGAIN THIS KID. is so marvelously well spoken and he just has such a simple yet effective way with words. he knows what’s reasonable to expect but never fails to expect the most that he can given his circumstances. again, mentioned this before but a lot of it is his accent. the glottal stop is a historically stereotypically rural (i.e. “uneducated”) thing but I’m American and I Don’t Listen to the Rules, so the accent just makes him seem so sophisticated to me especially when he’s saying things like “horriiiiiiiific” and presenting his hefty powerpoints.

Seeker: my British Boys Are Seekers headcanon continues. definitely a Golden Boy of the team kind of guy (hello tragic dumpsterfire that is williams :/ ).

Nicholas Latifi:

Hufflepuff: same boat as lance. his twitch streams are so wholesome he’s just chilling man. twitter made me write him off as daft and unnecessary at first but like fuck twitter i’m all here for ninky latvia now.

Chaser: lowkey gives me keeper vibes as well? the sensible, level-headedness. but obvs that’s lance so chaser it is. still the level-headedness that helps him hold down the fort btwn pierre and daniil who can tend to get a bit imaginative, and also the energies of them + lando.

5/19/20: so it’s quite clear to me that i grew tired of brain functions the more time i took on this and the later ones are a bit lacking and for that i’m very sorry. that being said i’m still happy to see this finished bc the idea was VERY exciting for me.